#Direct Drive Wheels
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"I quit my job and became the Princess Bride"✨ Have you read this romance novel? 😇
#twsb#when the third wheel strikes back#섭남파업#서브 남주가 파업하면 생기는 일#cedric riester#christelle de sarnez#jesse venetiaan#<--finally... tagging an art w only him and not also the tag jung yeseo... KDBSJ#its actually him this time#IM FINISHED AAAH#this was just... a practice... but it took longer than expected (but at the same time still p short? only 2 days#i didnt color it v detailed but oh my god#coloring on procreate is a fking pain#the shitty excuse for a fillbucket that doesnt even use accurate colors... drives me insane#MY EYES HURT#red eyes white clothes cedric.... who are you#(also christelle w sky blue eyes... pushes them more to the aqua/teal direction to differentiate them more#jesse without ahoge... the ahoge is yeseo's thing <3#my art#RIP jesse but also thank u for dying(?) so cedyeschris can be a thing yaaay😚#did u guys notice that i didnt give cedric orange highlights like i always do too...#its weird looking at him... technically ur the same person but... who r u...#QPB
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Just when I think the day's going well, I crash a golf cart
#summer camp tag#ace is a mess#i do not have a drivers license and i havent even been behind the wheel in like 4 years since i stopped lessons cus of the pandemic#the day was going fine i got loads done didnt feel like i was irritating my director too bad#doing some paperwork for her and she says when im done well take the golf cart out while its not currently raining#im like ooh fun never been in a golf cart before i see the higher up staff in them im not gonna say no to chilling in a golf cart#i did not realise that meant i would be driving esp when she asked if id been in one before and i said no#she then asked if i could drive and i said not really thought that would be it#cus i was supposed to be studying for my theory before working towards my practical#but no she insists im driving and first off i gotta reverse outta this bay now at least i didnt have to think about gears#but i hate tryna figure out how to turn whilst in reverse in mess with my brain im not great with shape visualisation#we do all our stops its fine for the most part a lil too fast going down some of the hills#and some tight turns but my turns were always like that cus im too busy focusing on the most immediate thing#we get back i park fine and then shes like oh actually there are some more stops we can make so i reverse and turn back out#do our two stops with only minimal confusion about direction then as i go to park into the bay we came from#shes like oh actually park in the bay closest to the health centre and what i should have done was reversed and adjusted my angle#instead i drove directly into the supporting beam separating the two bays 🙃😭#i immediately turn the cart off and expect her to switch with me instead shes like laughing it off oh it was just a little bump it was fine#im like it was not that was a loud ass bang i feel so bad and then she lifts up the light cover i broke off saying its just a scratch#and i feel worse so pf course thats when the camp director comes out to check on the noise and i dont think ive ever worn a guiltier look#but theyre both laughing it off oh just having a little driving lesson :) and i am mortified#she gets back in the cart and shes still insisting that its fine and i should still park after that which i do with great trepidation#but there are no more problems and the lights still work but the cover does need fixing and i just oh my god#ive never crashed before never clipped or scratched a car so of course id crash the golf cart trying to park of all things 😭
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so... does the electronic steering thing on tesla cybertrucks mean that you can't turn the wheels towards a certain direction when you've stopped the car? you know, the way you're supposed to when youre parked on a hill so if your car starts rolling it just goes into the curb instead of into the street???
#because its supposed to be like an electronic thing right? the steering wheel is not directly connected to the wheels#which is for some bullshit thing about turning differently in different situations or something#which is useless#but does that mean that you cant turn the wheels a certain direction when youre stopped somewhere#yall remember that whole lesson in drivers ed about how when you park on a slope you need to turn your wheels#so if your car starts rolling it rolls into the curb instead of into the street.#is that. is that not possible in a cybertruck.#im seriously asking actually#to be clear i hate those trucks. they are so ugly. but i'm watching a danny gonazlez video so now i know more than i ever wanted to know#and i hate them so much more#the tiny wheel. the terrible gear change??? the doors??? the stainless steel the way the back closes its all awful#but i just thought of the wheel curb thing and i dont do youtube comments so i have nowhere else to express my concern#i mean i guess if someones driving a tesla cybertruck they probably arent going to park in a safe way no matter what#so moot point overall#reblogs are off because im like genuinley curious but also hate the fucking car so
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i know that they just included Mac Finds His Pride at the end of that 'episodes to watch before s16' post cuz they were going in chronological order w the eps listed and they're gonna bring up the dance this season ofc, but deep down i want it to have to do with Dennis Takes a Mental Health Day being at the end of this season and MFHP being a finale that did something unexpected and grounded in the emotional reality of a character somehow correlating to Dennis' ep....
#i just... man itd be so good#also i know some ppl are very against ppl making MFHP abt anything other than Mac#but truly theres just a gaping hole in the ep that is shaped a LOT like dennis#which is valid however#i still have my more literal theory that dennis was supposed to come out with/dance with mac in s13... but he decided to stay in the closet#so mac had to find a new dance partner to do the dance with#but i think the more grounded subtextual thing of it is dennis' arc in Gets New Wheels is a direct FOIL of Macs in MFHP#(dennis is afraid of his father and stays in the closet in Gets New Wheels V.S. mac is afraid of his father but comes out and STAYS out in#MFHP....)#esp considering the joke in MFHP where dee's like 'just get the gay man to dance on the gay#float its not that hard!' then IMMEDIATELY charlie comes into the scene talking abt how 'dennis got claustrophobic n he doesnt wanna drive'#like that ... the joke is LITRLLY that dennis is gay too but wont come out#AND THEN THEY GO BACK IN ON THIS JOKE THE VRY NEXT SEASON IN TEXTS WITH THE GRINDR BATHROOM SCENE LOL#i mean how can u argue its not insignificant that frank aka DENNIS' FATHER is being guided thru this journey where he sees the struggle#of someone whos been in the closet?? u think that could not even possibly be related TO HIS SON???#but one fear what if they actually keep him in the closet forever cuz mac came out#WHAT IF#dennis takes a mental health day
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Absolutely ECSTATIC to report that I am two months seizure free today!! 🥳🎊✨️
This is the longest I've gone without a single seizure since I was fifteen years old. I've been working with my therapist, taking my medication as prescribed, and have been practicing coping mechanisms and learning to recognize my cues. I'm actually feeling better, and I never thought that would happen.
#not saying i'll never have another seizure ever but i feel like even if i do i'll be okay#and like i have the resources to keep going in a positive direction no matter the circumstance#which is w i l d#four more months and i can get my learner's permit!!#and after i get my drivers licenses i really wanna get a class m license so i can get a trike#i'd love a traditional two wheeled motorcycle but i feel like it would be better for me personally to drive a trike instead#that way incase i have a seizure while riding a whole ass motorcycle isn’t falling onto me#pnes#psychogenic non epileptic seizures#non epileptic seizures#seizures#seizure disorder#good things#moving forward#feeling better#mental health
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i wish i was better at character analysis because like. kabru (dunmeshi) and enrico (gayepo) are such similar characters it makes me want to Bite someone but the moment i try to explain how i feel my brain just gets fuckin fried. i think about either of them for 0.5 seconds and i explode on the spot
#benjitalk#theyve both got this whole. '' oh im the most friendly person ever you can totally trust me haha! ''#but then when you read their internal dialogues its just. the direct opposite or a complete contradiction of what theyre ACTUALLY saying#enrico is... idk how to say it but moreso open about his intentions? kabru is a completely fucking shut closed book. cant read him at all.#well i say that but then fucking. chapters like 76 happens and its like. jesus christ what is Wrong with this dude.#and the main thing driving their characters id say is their hometowns but in two entirely Distinct ways#but still in a way that haunts them both in a sense to their core. litterally in kabrus case rip Utaya and kabrus mom.#if i smashed enrico and kabru together hard enough i swear to god i could crack both of their characters wide open but i am Stupid#so i unfortunatly do not have the ability to do that. c'est la vie or whatever#this is the like 4th post ive tried to make about this btw. i hope enrico and kabru both explode so i dont have to think about them anymore#also this is INCREDIBLY unrelated to the post but laios and enrico have rlly similar hairstyles and its SO funny to me.#do you think enrico would eat monsters if he was in dunmeshi. i actually kind of do tbh.#what if i just did a gayepo dunmeshi au. is this what this was leading to. someone help me i feel like a hamster stuck on it's wheel here
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"two third wheels and a steering wheel," folks, new ship dynamic, pass it on
#ship dynamics#character dynamics#two third wheels and a steering wheel#kakavege#vegebul#goku#bulma#vegeta#god i love these three#himbo and gremlin#and bulma!#yo boyfie's wifey#your gremlin's himbo boyfie#the only place we're driving is crazy#we are going to crash#no airbags on this thing#that steering wheel should not be controlling the direction#there are no turn signals#only gas pedal#no brakes#u kno it's dire when gege is the voice of reason#lol
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Shout out my muster joint problems!
Turns out driving is very bad for the following joints:
Back
Neck
Shoulders
Elbows
Wrists
Fingers
Hips
Knees
Ankles
Toes
If you said “hey Ani, isn’t that just about all of the joints?” Then you would be correct!
#I need to get some fuckin braces or something#because A LOT of my joint issues stem from them hyper extending/going to far in both directions#like my fingers go to far back and get all numb and tense and sore while I’m holding the steering wheel#basically my entire right leg is just angry and sore now#and that’s the one that you have to use for both fuckin pedals#I need to get my family to fuckin take my joint issues seriously but they will never do that#which is extra great because they’re the ones that have been pushing me to learn to drive even though they think they didn’t#anyways I’m in pain and I’m cranky#TLDR my family doesn’t support my disabilities#but in order to do anything myself I have to do things that exacerbate my issues and are also fuckin shitty in general#being disabled is a fucking curse
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World Champs || LN4
lando norris x fem!reader
summary: a trip to abu dhabi as mclaren win the wcc
warnings: pregnancy
part two of “two red lines”
1.6k words
masterlist
"Be careful, okay?", you whispered in his ear, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. "I will, I promise", Lando smiled, sneaking a soft peck on your mouth before letting go of you.
It was the first race you were openly talking to each other in front of the media, which had you standing on the grid, next to Lando’s father right before the lights will go out.
He went on to hug is father who gave him a few reassuring words before clapping his back. "Let’s do this, son!", Adam said, a smile beaming on his face. Lando chuckled and walked over to his car, placing his hand over your stomach while passing you.
You took a few steps back, keeping close to Adam to follow him, as he’s been here quite a lot more often than you had. He led you back through the mass of people, getting you to your designated spot in the Mclaren garage next to Lando’s sister and mother.
Cisca was already nervously nibbling on her fingers. "This is probably the most nervous I’ve ever been before a race", his mum confessed. You chuckled, trying to hide your own anxiety. "I think we have a good rate tho, with Y/n here", Adam replied, putting an arm around his wife.
"Her first race was Miami, and she’s been in the paddock in Zandvoort and Singapore", he laughed at the coincidences.
Your attention was directed to the screens as the first flag waved, indicating the formation lap. Your heartbeat sped up, like every time before a race start.
Lando led the field around the track and came to a stop in the very first position. The anticipation of the lights going red one by one, killing you like so often before.
The lights went off and Lando had a good start, driving a bit on the right to give Oscar enough space while taking the outside of the corner.
The whole garage gasped when Max’s car touched Oscar’s back wheel, causing both cars to spin around. Cisca let out a yelp next to you, instinctively grabbing your hand and squeezing it tightly.
Thankfully Oscar was able to keep going, but the task of the Constructors Championship just got a whole lot harder, especially with Leclerc already being up in 8th.
It was solely on Lando now. He needed to win. If he did, Mclaren were assured Champions. Not even a double Ferrari podium could take that away then.
Throughout the whole race you watched the gap between Lando and Carlos behind him, your heartbeat speeding up whenever the number got smaller. Looking back, you probably couldn’t name you a lot of things that happened during the race, apart from Oscar’s penalty that made the whole task even more difficult, as your eyes were glued to the screen that showed Lando’s onboard and the gap to Carlos behind.
After an amazing 2.0 pitstop, that was crucial to Lando coming out in front of the Ferrari, you watched the gap widening more and more.
Excitement started rising up inside you and you squeezed Cisca’s hand tighter as Lando rounded the final few corners.
Cheers erupted in the garage, louder than what you had ever heard. You swore you could hear Zak screaming from the pitwall, as a tear fell down your cheek.
You turned to Lando’s parents, seeing Cisca’s eyes swelling as well before she pulled you into a hug.
"HE DID IT!"
You nodded frantically, stroking over your belly and grinning broadly. "Podium, podium!", Lando’s sister reminded you, pushing her mum by her shoulders out into the pitlane.
You giggled and followed the two of them.
The cheers from all around the track were unstoppable as Lando walked out to step on the highest step of the podium.
His eyes met yours and if it was even possible his smile lit up even more. You waved at him to which he replied with blowing you a kiss.
After the podium, Lando had to do countless of media duties, from post race conferences to the media pen, while you waited in front of the hospitality.
You looked up from your phone, when a flash of papaya orange caught your vision and your smile widened when you saw Lando approaching. His steps quickened and he ran the last few meters until he stood in front of you, grabbing your cheeks softly to pull you into a gentle kiss.
You giggled into his lips, slowly pulling away and pressing his wet body against you.
"I’m drenched in champagne, baby", he laughed in your hair, putting a hand against the back of your head. "That’s okay", you muttered, pressing him tighter to your body. Lando pulled back a little and sunk down on one knee.
"Thank you", he mumbled before pressing a soft kiss to your stomach. You giggled, stroking through his wet and sticky hair. He rose up again and his eyes met yours. "I’m so proud of you!", you smiled. Lando gave you a shy smile. "Thank you for being here", he muttered and pulled you back into a hug.
"You should probably go to the garage, I think your whole team is waiting for you for the team picture", you chuckled after a while. Lando sighed and pulled back. "Come with me?", he asked, holding out his hand for you to take.
You smiled and interwinded your fingers, letting him lead you through the garage and out to the pitlane. In front of his own garage there was a sea of papaya, while the whole Mclaren team was waiting on Lando.
You let go of his hand and slightly pushed him forward, signaling him that this was his moment and that he should take it all in. Lando nodded and ran, followed by Ash, towards the crowd of people who all started cheering for him.
You giggled at their antics, watching how first Zak and then Andrea embraced your boyfriend. Just as Oscar and him were shaking hands, Zak spotted you and walked over to you.
"If all we need is you present at the races, then we can call Lando the champion for next year already", he joked, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You let out a laugh and saw how Lando watched the two of you, a smile wide on his face.
"Zak, come on, we’re all waiting for you!", Lando called, causing the whole team to let out a round of laughter. Zak squeezed your shoulder again before hurrying back for the team photo.
Someone shot confetti from canons and a rain of papaya colored snippets fell on the whole team. You felt a pair of hands grab you and pull you back at the last minute before Lando started spraying champagne everywhere, his team joining in.
"Thanks!", you laughed at Adam, putting a hand over your heart. "No worries, gotta protect the little one", he joked, clapping your shoulders.
Once the spraying had died down, Lando waddled over to you. "I think I’ve got champagne in my shoes", he called, wrapping an arm around your neck to press a kiss to the side of your head.
"I’ll send you the details of the club in a second", Zak smiled next to the two of you, slapping a hand down on Lando’s shoulder. His eyes met yours for a second before uncomfortably looking back at his boss. "Zak, I don’t know-" "Uh uh uh, shhh!", you quickly interrupted him, putting a hand over his mouth.
"You think I’m gonna let this opportunity pass? Hell nah, I might not he able to drink but I sure as hell can celebrate", you giggled, pressing your nose to his cheek. "Bonus for you is, you don’t need to worry how you’ll get home because I can watch and take care of you the whole night."
Lando let out a laugh and squeezed your side.
"That is in fact very tempting!"
tagged: yn
liked by: yn, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 2.638.726 others
landonorris: Definition of good luck charmthanks for being with me through all four wins this year, baby.
comments:
yn: Aww, baby🧡
landonorris: i love u
mclaren: Thanks for your contribution to the wcc!
yn: My pleasure, any time again
mclaren: Might take you up on that coming March…
user1: HARD LAUNCH??
user2: i mean she has been to multiple races and there’s literally videos of her on the grid before the race earlier
user3: I’m so confused how we never caught on to this???
user4: Idk, they never interacted at the races and weren’t seen outside the track as well
user5: We all assumed she’s some influencer invited by Mclaren, none of us even thought she was there for Lando😭🤚🏻
user6: She’s so pretty omg!!
user7: That picture from Miami tho🫣
landonorris: ikr, i took it😎
user5: LANDO LMAOOOO
user8: Uhm idk if you saw those videos from her at the track today but like… is there a chance she’s pregnant??
user3: Let’s not…
user8: I don’t wanna assume, but his hand on her belly, she rested her hand there quite a lot, too, and people say he kissed her belly after the race🤷♀️
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📍Abu Dhabi
tagged: landonorris, mclaren, kellypiquet
liked by: landonorris, oscarpiastri, kellypiquet and 372.628 others
yn: Abu Dhabi highlights ✨🧡
comments:
landonorris: your my highlight
yn: Babyyyy
user4: The spelling mistake tells me he in fact wrote that himself🤏🏻
kellypiquet: Ahh, i love youuu
yn: Let’s meet as soon as we’re back in Monaco
kellypiquet: Yes pleaseee
user5: Lando and her live together???
user1: Her fits slay so hard omg
user2: QUEEN TBH
user3: P and Lando awww
user6: He’ll be the babies favorite uncle for sure
user5: How do they even know each other??
user2: I think through Instagram
user5: I’m so confused on their relationship timeline, because the first time we ever saw them at the same place was the Miami race
yn: We met in Miami, you’re welcome guys🤚🏻
user2: So y’all met and Lando won the race after?
yn: Pretty much, yeah
user2: Geeze for real a good luck charm!!
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liked by: mclaren, kellypiquet, carlossainz55 and 4.628.520 others
yn & landonorris: Baby Norris coming Spring 2025🎀🤍
comments:
mclaren: TEAM BABY!! we’ll provide as much clothes and training as possible
landonorris: gg team
yn: thanks for the clothes, i might have a talk with you about the training part tho…
kellypiquet: Congratulations!!
yn: Twinsss
maxverstappen: Congrats!!
landonorris: Thx maxxx
carlossainz55: Do I get favorite uncle privileges?
yn: Might have to fight Max for that🫣
maxfewtrell: That’s alright, I’ll be the godfather
user1: SURPRISE???
user3: DIDNT SHE SAY THE MET IN MIAMI??
user1: SHE DID
user4: Miami was almost 8 months ago, it’s not that short
user3: For her to be pregnant now?? Still a bit early imo
user2: No way was that planned…
user5: Yeah, let’s not!
user4: It doesn’t matter if its planned or not, let’s be happy for them
user6: Baby Norris omgggg
user7: All I see is Daddy Norris incoming😎
liked by landonorris
user8: Lando liking that comment😭plsss he’s so unserious
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masterlist
#lando norris#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#mclaren#ln4#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1
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Suomi mainittu! Rulla-Pekka the mecha version.
Steam power
#art#locomotive#finland#not to be critical but the artwork misses a lot of what makes the looks of this particular loco class special#why are there two domes? the p1/hr1 had just one dome#where's the driving wheels? and the typically finnish driver's cab?#why does the boiler get smaller in one direction when the deal one had a straight one?
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i’ll drive, i’ll drive all night
bf!rafe cameron x fem!reader
cw — alcohol, brief talks abt arguing, this is lowk short
summary — you drunk call rafe for a ride home from your friends house.
a/n — whipped this up in a few minutes so please don’t be too harsh. request!!
do not copy or post my work anywhere else.
you sat outside with the warm breeze as you waited on the steps to your best friends house for your boyfriend to pick you up. you were completely out of it, eyes feeling heavy, body all soft and feeling like jelly from the copious amounts of alcohol coursing through you.
you’d probably had one too many drinks and you were expecting a lecture from rafe when he arrived but you were too far past the point of caring. you just wanted to see him and go home after the terrible day you’d had.
the two of you had argued earlier in the afternoon which eventually led to you both parting ways and not speaking for a few hours. you were both very opinionated and you had attitudes that often didn’t mix well when you were frustrated. one of you usually apologized though and you guys moved past it.
this one was different though. you knew you’d been a little mean in your replies but you also felt like he deserved a little reality check. you currently couldn’t even remember why you were arguing due to your drunken state, but you knew it was something you guys could easily get over. you two would probably forget about it by morning anyway.
when you finally saw the big truck pull into the driveway, you quickly stood and almost immediately regretted the sudden action. your head began to spin and a pain accumulated behind your eyelids as you drunkenly stumbled to his car. he was standing on the passengers side waiting for you.
once you approached after tripping over your own feet, he opened up the door for you without a word and helped you up the big step to get inside. he shut it behind you and made his way into his own seat. he assured you had your seatbelt on and began reversing out of the driveway without a word.
“i’m sorry,” you slurred quietly, noticing the way both his hands held the steering wheel instead of one of them resting on your thigh. “didn’t know who else to call.”
you heard him sigh and begin to drive. “would rather you call me than anyone else,” he admitted honestly and spared a glance in your direction. his heart broke a little at the soft pout on your lips and the sad glint in your eyes. “‘nd i’m not mad at you, baby. ‘s fine.”
your eyes glistened with tears as you looked at him. “you’re not?” you mumbled under your breath, eyes feeling heavier and your head getting all foggy.
he shook his head with a shrug and gently rested his hand on your lower thigh just above your knee, thumb soothing over your skin reassuringly. “could never be mad at you,” he said before the car fell into a comfortable silence. the only sound being the quiet song playing on his radio.
you didn’t know when you fell asleep or how long it’d been since, but you began to wake to the sight of rafe standing in front of you looking extremely focused and a soft towel being dragged carefully over your cheeks. you were sat on the bathroom counter with your legs spread slightly and him standing between them with majority of your body weight leaning against his.
he was holding your jaw in one hand while the other hand did what you assumed was taking off your makeup. when you finally fluttered your eyes open for real this time, he scanned your face and placed the towel down on the counter. “you have fun tonight?”
you nodded and smiled softly. “mhm. morgan’s friends are really nice. the bar was so cool,” you replied, awkwardly rubbing your hands along your thighs not knowing whether or not it was appropriate to touch him. “‘m really sorry, rafe.”
he went silent for a moment but his eyes stayed fixed on yours. “its okay, sweetheart. we both said some shit we shouldn’t have. ‘s alright. people make mistakes.”
“i was bein’ a bitch earlier,” you mumbled, leaning your forehead against his chest.
he laughed softly and smoothed a hand down the back of your head comfortingly. “i think i can handle your attitude pretty well by now,” he replied just barely above a whisper. “c’mon. time for bed.”
you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands found the backs of your thighs, lifting you and walking you to your shared bedroom before dropping you down gently on your side. he was quick to pull his shirt over his head and crawl under the covers beside you.
you scooted closer to his side and sighed at the familiar warmth you enjoyed so much. his arm loosely fell to the dip of your waist as he scrolled through netflix to find a movie on, knowing you couldn’t sleep without the tv on. “i love you baby,” you muttered through a sleep-laced voice.
he smiled and pressed a kiss to your hair. “i love you more, angel.”
#gracie writes rafe cameron 🌺#rafe cameron imagine#rafe angst#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#outer banks#rafe cameron obx#obx#drew starkey
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TEACH YOU HOW TO GET TO PUREST HELL - L.H.
Summary: On the way to one of his cage fights, Logan's truck begins to break down and that's how he meets you, the owner of a repair shop in Northern Alberta. He promises to pay you with his winnings - but what he ultimately offers is far more interesting.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut 18+ only, Fluff, Flirting, Dirty talk, Praise kink, Fingering, Unprotected sex (against the cage), Aftercare, Logan's a snarky motherfucker (but secretly a softie)
A/N: The filthiest 4k I've ever written. I just know he was a menace during his cage fighter era. It's okay though, I'll still be clawing at the enclosure. Title creds to Radiohead. Hope you enjoy!
MASTERLIST
Smoke curls around him, bearing a semblance of warmth against the biting wind. Logan's grip on the steering wheel is loose, the other arm draped lazily across the window. He flicks his fingertips ever so often, the ashes of his cigar disappearing into the falling snow. Mile after mile, the same barren landscape stretches before him.
He's lost amidst the silence, having turned the radio all the way down in frustration at the nonsense plaguing the stations earlier. As sunshine glares through the windshield, he scrunches his eyebrows, vaguely entertaining some ideas swirling in his mind.
Hours pass by painfully slow. He tries to ignore the low rumbling that interrupts his flow of thoughts, body firmly protesting against this all-alcohol diet he'd unintentionally adopted. Logan skims a hand into the glove compartment, clicking his tongue when he discovers only a few wrappers lying inside. Slumping back into the seat, he takes another drag, disappointment etching onto his features.
An orange, flashing icon on the dashboard snaps his attention. His eyes dart to the blinking light, a sense of irritation washing over him when he recognises the ‘check engine’ symbol. In a haste, he pulls the truck over, slamming the door shut behind him as he ventures into the cold to inspect the issue. Though he has an extensive knowledge of motorcycles, by no means does that expertise carry over to whatever mess he finds beneath the hood. Logan returns with a sigh, recalling a faded road sign he'd passed ages ago - at least he isn't awfully far from his destination.
In the distance, the town welcome monument brings him some sort of peace. After driving by plenty of dimly lit diners and pubs, he reluctantly asks a stranger for directions to the nearest repair shop. Logan arrives shortly thereafter, parking at the entrance of this seemingly empty building. Curious, he scans the place, sliding out of his seat in search of anyone.
The distinct ring of metal hitting the floor has him spinning around. He fights back the amused huff at the sight of you, bottom lip slightly caught between his teeth in an attempt to stop the smirk threatening to break free. His eyes rake over your figure as you come closer - appreciating the way your overalls perfectly capture the slopes and curves of your body - before finally, rising to meet your unimpressed expression.
"What're you here for?"
There's a smidge of annoyance in your words, a reaction he very much enjoys being the reason for. He nods towards the truck parked out front, "Problem with the engine."
When you brush past him, Logan spots a name neatly embroidered onto your otherwise soiled clothes. Smiling, he follows after you, shamelessly dropping his gaze to your ass for a moment.
Waiting patiently while you poke around the hood, he steals glances at your profile, filled with the sudden urge to wipe away the grease stain remnants off your cheeks, "Yeah... looks like the head gasket needs replacing."
Logan groans to himself before agreeing with your judgment. He runs a hand across his face, stilling in brief confusion when you chuckle quietly.
"Somethin' funny?" He asks, noting how you browse the insides of his camper with a flair of barely-masked mockery.
"Just admiring the interior design."
That one almost draws a scoff out of him. Logan knows his living quarters are rather bare-bones in nature, at best, providing decent shelter for when he's on the go. Inside, a makeshift bed large enough for a man of his size and basic kitchen appliances - though he rarely uses those. It's all he cares for anyway, yet there's a tinge of self-consciousness he shakes before gruffly responding, "You can do it by tonight?"
"Tonight?" Your eyebrows raise in surprise, "Fine... but it's gonna set you back about three grand."
"I got half for now."
A sharp laugh pierces his ears. And even though it's undoubtedly fake, he thinks you look pretty like this - shooting what can't be anything less than a deadly glare just for him. The corners of his lips tilt up when your tone suddenly becomes stern, "That's not how it works, buddy."
"Listen, I got a fight later, I'll be good for it."
"What? You that sure you're gonna win?"
You're teasing him. You know it, and so does he. Logan studies the way your hand rests against your hip, a challenging glint behind your eyes while you consider this ridiculous suggestion. He moves one step closer and proudly welcomes the surge of satisfaction at the slight crack of your demeanour.
"Darlin', I always win." It's a whisper that leaves him, hushed and dangerously low. Giving your shoulder a playful nudge as he walks by, he circles to the trailer behind the truck, retrieving his motorcycle. He smirks, pleased to witness such a glimpse of weakness, "Eleven-thirty. O'Malley's. I'll see you there."
The engine revs with each twist of his wrist, the movement so precise and natural. As he sinks onto the bike, the suspension adjusting to his weight, he sends you a wink.
"And if you lose?" You shout over the blaring sounds.
With one final grin, "Just fix my truck, alright."
Even from outside, O'Malley's is deafeningly loud. The wooden door creaks lightly with the gentlest push, and a mixture of overly enthusiastic yells paired with the clashing of glass greet your presence. You're no regular here whatsoever, but the fights that occur in this bar are usually the talk of the town. And despite its reputation, you've never had much interest in being surrounded by a crowd of angry, intoxicated men - all drowning beneath the crude insults and empty threats tossed into the air.
Some of the patrons, customers you recognise from work, acknowledge you with a polite smile while you settle into a booth near the cage. As you observe the utter chaos around the room, it only cements your distaste for this so-called form of entertainment. The current match's loser staggers past your table, barely walking on two feet even with the support of his friends.
All you can think about is returning home with your hard-earned cash. It was a rather tiring day, running around salvage yards scouring for spare parts to tend to the old piece of junk he'd called a truck. Not to mention the unforgiving weather, which seemed determined to make your day more miserable. And to top it all off, the jerk wanted it done by nightfall - the audacity! Just the simple reminder of today's events has your body tensing from restlessness.
Behind you, a group of men sneer amongst themselves and between their slurring, the words "pretty boy" and "his ass kicked" grasp your attention. Turning around, you watch as they hand over money to some younger fella, taunting others to join the bet. Oh, that makes your blood boil. This Logan had strolled into your shop with nothing but a superficial promise for your services, and now, he's presumed to lose?
You stand up abruptly, peering across the space in search of him. A rush of fury courses through you at the same time you spot him casually lounging in the corner. As you approach, the faint glow of the bulb illuminates his face, a cloud of smoke momentarily hiding the smirk playing on his lips. His chuckle cuts through the hum of the jukebox he's leaning on, eyes crinkling with a kind of smugness at your arrival.
"You're joking." The bottle of whiskey between his fingers shocks you the most, "Are you seriously getting drunk before your fight?"
Logan grins at your concerned expression, eyes tracing you up and down, "You fix it?"
"Yes, I fucking fixed it. Took me all day!" Fists clenching, you stare at him intently, "Look, I did my job - you better do yours."
"Don't worry 'bout it, darlin'. I'm a man of my word." He dismisses you completely, taking a prolonged swig of his drink. A beat passes before he lazily holds up two fingers right to your face, "Scout's honour."
He laughs again when you roughly shove his hand aside, not sparing another second for this cocksure attitude. You grumble under your breath, making your way back to the booth, "It's three fingers, asshole."
A few matches take place over the next hour, and you're only getting more antsy as each of the competitors exits the cage with nothing short of bloody faces and broken bones. The audience roars all of a sudden, some even rattling the fence as this new person strides into the threshold.
Of course, he'd stripped his shirt off and the sight of his muscle-toned chest only serves to further fuel your irritation. Logan's eyes find yours immediately, looking past the crowd of hecklers now whistling at him. With a nod, he throws you a confident smirk and turns to his rival.
The man he's up against is much more burly and has a couple of inches on him. Though that doesn't seem to faze Logan in the slightest, instead he's flexing his arms almost playfully before adopting a fighting stance. Every punch and kick has you twitching in your seat, your feet firmly stuck to the ground in anticipation.
Remembering how he'd chugged an entire bottle of liquor earlier, you're astonished by the ferocity with which he attacks his opponent, dodging most moves with deadly precision. As he lands more jabs, the spectators begin to jeer and boo, swarming the enclosure of the cage in a tantrum. You peek over their shoulders, ducking away from the things they're flinging around. There's a collective gasp when he knocks out the other man, and you sigh in relief.
Leaning towards the cage, a cigar lightly pressed against his mouth, Logan's focus shifts to you. His chest is heaving from all the physical exertion, skin damp from the sweat. As he exhales the smoke, blowing a kiss in your direction, a satisfied expression returns to his face. He runs a hand through his wet hair, leaving the arena with no regard for the protesting crowd.
You follow after him, squeezing through the tightly packed space. He's settling a score with the owner, a wad of rolled cash passing between them as a reward. After a nod of mutual agreement, Logan faces you, tossing his leather jacket on. And while you're ultimately happy he won, there's also this urge to smack the cheeky look that seems to be glowing as you come closer.
What's more upsetting is the fact that he is undeniably gorgeous - especially like this, all sweaty and wound up from the adrenaline rushing inside. And of course, he doesn't miss how your gaze wanders to the sliver of skin peeking through his jacket, every slight movement only revealing more.
Logan grabs a few bills from the roll of money and stuffs them into his back pocket, holding the rest out towards you. As you reach for the cash, he swiftly draws his hand back with a teasing smile, "Have a drink with me."
"No."
"C'mon." He drags out, repeating the same thing when you try again, "No one needs their cute, little mechanic right now."
Watching you sigh triggers a thrill of excitement, an unspoken victory he claims with no shame. With a simple gesture, he leads you towards a secluded booth, determined to make this a worthwhile exchange. Despite your hesitation, he maintains a sort of relaxed energy, draping his arm along the seat - his eyes not straying from yours.
Two shots of vodka are placed on the table and Logan mirrors your action, slowly raising the glass to his lips. In no time, the air of unease dissipates, replaced by a comfortable silence while the drinks keep coming. As the night wears on, casual conversation flows between you and he asks a few things like how long you've lived here, why you became a mechanic and eventually, when he slides you the money, "What now, darlin'? You gonna leave?"
His voice, dripping with honeyed sweetness, sends a shiver down your spine. You can't exactly place the feeling, but it's a tangle of exasperation and something else - something you're not quite ready to define. Instead, you blame it on the drinks, the late hour, and the fact that there's an incredibly attractive man just inches away.
As frustration envelops your thoughts, you suddenly excuse yourself and head towards the bathroom. The alcohol, previously a gentle companion, now seems to be taking its toll. Looking at your reflection in the mirror, you try to fight against the sensations running through your body. The splash of cold water does little to your state of mind, yet you're back outside in what feels like a tilted world, using all your strength to walk straight.
As you brush past the cage, someone collides into you. Desperate for balance, you reach out to grip the fence, but a strong hand lays steady on your lower back. With a gasp and a tilt of your head, you're caught off-guard when Logan comes into your view. His arm snakes around to gently hold your waist, his body now pressing into yours.
Overwhelmed by the sudden proximity, you tear your attention away from him and glance at the wire pricking your fingers, "This is fucking sharp."
He doesn't break the eye contact. A low hum vibrates through his chest as he leans in, the warmth of his breath dancing with yours. The space between you slowly shrinks, whatever lighthearted facade he'd worn earlier vanishes only to be replaced by something raw and inexplicable.
"How're you not bruised?" You whisper, remembering the way he'd been thrown against the cage earlier.
"Call it a special talent."
Despite your better judgment, you find yourself captivated by him, the intensity of his gaze reeling you in. And so, you decide to play his game, "Can you teach me?"
Logan pauses, "You wanna learn... how to fight?"
"Just a little punch or something."
A faint smile spreads across his face, you're absolutely sure he can feel the way your heart is pounding. When his lips lightly brush against your ear, a quiet rumble escapes and something flickers in your gut - a twist of exhilaration laced with a hint of caution.
There's barely anyone left in the bar at this point besides the one or two stragglers hanging around. Logan and you stand alone in the cage, seemingly tucked away in a little pocket of your own. He doesn't wander too far, remaining within an arm's distance while demonstrating the proper technique for a jab - the motion so fluid and effortless.
Your initial attempts to mimic his movements are clumsy and awkward, his amusement only growing more evident with each try. Slipping behind you, he sheds the jacket, once again exposing his glorious muscles and the thought of tracing his vein-riddled biceps with your tongue leaves you dazed for a moment. This time, he circles his arms around you and guides your hands into the correct position.
As you practice, your bodies nudge against each other, his breath fans across your neck and ignites a fire within you. The tension is palpable, the air thick with implicit desire. You can almost feel his gaze burning into you, every second posing a challenge to cross this imaginary line.
The rest of the patrons are ushered out the door, the owner nodding at Logan before disappearing into the back room. And the silence settles in, a stark contrast to all the commotion that lingered for hours prior. You notice the difference, inching towards the exit, "Looks like they're closing up."
Before you can move away, Logan's hand shoots out to catch your wrist, "And we got it all to ourselves."
"What?"
"Might've slipped the owner a little somethin’."
His fingers trail up your arm, thumb gently pushing your soft skin. Slowly, he brings you closer, his words just a whisper of heat on your cheek. You can feel the rise and fall of his chest, a rhythm echoing your own racing heart. Your voice, hoarse and strained, barely manages a response, "Is this how you budget? No wonder you're broke."
It's his laughter that breaks you at first, followed by, "You got a smart mouth, darlin'. Tell me, what else can it do?"
His lips hover mere inches above yours, there's a moment of hesitation hanging in the air - an out, if you don't want this. But, temptation is a dangerous siren and you're already ensnared by her song.
Fuck it.
Logan's dog tags hang pretty between the slopes of your breasts, his mouth moving against yours in a rough, demanding fashion. It's sloppy. It's wet. And it's goddamn heavenly when his fingers thread through your hair, the gap between you now completely erased. You cling to him as if he's an anchor, nails digging into his shoulders while he pins you to the cool metal of the cage.
He wants to touch you. To feel the warmth radiating straight off your body. The straps of your overalls fall from his force, he takes the opportunity to slide one hand through the side, kneading your waist with a kind of tenderness that surprises him too. When you take a second to breathe, Logan peppers kisses along your jawline, then some beneath your ear before grazing his lips on your neck.
The pulsing vein he finds nearly has him growling in pleasure, "Fuck, darlin'... feel so good already... can't wait to taste you when I'm done..."
He stills when you gasp, glancing up through his lashes and then quietly chuckling at your flustered expression. Yet, he can't revel in his victory for any longer than a blink, your palm tilts his head back before you fiercely capture his mouth once more.
His name rolls out your lips, drawn out and glazed with an obvious need. Taking a deep inhale, Logan feels the bulge in his jeans growing with each passing moment. You're only getting restless as his hands roam over your body, becoming nothing more than a whimpering mess all from his doing.
"Lemme hear you for real, baby... don't be shy." His fingers latch onto the cage, using it to thrust forward and deepen the kiss. Your clothes end up pooling at your feet, the barriers between you peeling away with every layer gone. Now, skin to skin, sweat glistening on your brow, you're left bare and vulnerable to his touch.
Logan reaches down, spreading your thighs wide enough till he can push your panties aside, stroking the outside of your entrance. Clenching his jaw when he's met with a distinct wetness, "Hidin' all this for me?" He almost laughs at how you curl forward and then whine his name, craving for any part of him to be inside you, "Hm... what'd you say to me before? Three fingers?
With no warning, he slides exactly three inside your cunt, pumping in and out as best as he can, "So fuckin' tight, darlin'... c'mon... show me you're ready for the real thing." He knows he's doing something right when you squirm at his actions, jumping at the invitation to delicately flick your clit before sinking his fingers back into you.
"Logan-"
Pain consumes you as he continues, tears springing to your eyes. You've never felt pleasure like this, so intense and so profound, words lost amongst the moans trembling out your lips. Your knees begin to shake under the pressure, and his free hand immediately cups your thigh, securing your body to his. As you call out for him, urging him to fuck you senseless, he tugs his fingers away.
The belt flies, jeans tossed behind in an instant and he grunts, freeing his hard length from his boxers. The tip of his cock teases your folds, the precum slicking down from the head. His nose presses against your cheek when your hand runs up and down - getting him all nice and ready. Breath hitching at the sensation, Logan involuntarily bucks his hips, your eagerness carrying him over the edge.
He's careless about lining himself up, giving it no more than a fleeting thought before thrusting into you. Whatever floods your brain at that moment is much more potent than anything you've ever experienced. It's vigorous, almost animalistic in nature, how hard he fucks you. The veins on his arms become more apparent as he hoists you up, pushing you against the cage. He can hear the little fibers of your skin tearing because of the friction, yet he does little to ease that pain, knowing you're enjoying the hurricane of emotions whisking you away.
Logan pants into your tits, nipping at the soft flesh, "Wanted to ruin that pussy since I saw you this mornin'... all dirty and pissed off at me - god. Thought 'bout somethin' else on your face too."
"Logan - don't... fucking stop. Feels amazing... wanna feel all of you." The words escape you - laboured and breathless - your eyes soften in delight, watching this sort of enraptured expression wash across his face, "So good for me, Logan."
So good.
For me.
And boy, if that doesn't spur him on.
Picking up speed, his movements turn greedy, grinding into you with a degree of passion he's never felt before. As you tug his hair, fingers raking through the dark tresses in a frenzy, Logan taps into the primal energy swelling within. His hands squeeze you further, your thighs constricting his waist as he drives up into you, "That's it baby... fuckin' perfect. Takin' all of me like a good girl... mhmm."
The way your body helplessly arches has him grinning, but that quickly gets swept away when his cock twitches inside you, aching to burst at any given moment. He tries his hardest to control himself, longing for your cries of pleasure as you finish. Thrusts weakening to a leisurely pace, Logan grunts into your neck, mumbling a string of curses while he rides out this wave. Thankfully, you're on the precipice as well, your body reaching its peak with a shiver.
His cum trickles out of you, thighs getting sticky as it seeps lower and lower. Lost in a daze, Logan thinks he can see the damn sun in your eyes. With a gentle swipe of your cunt, he sheepishly licks his own fingertips, a smile brightening his face.
The mattress, once a source of great discomfort, now feels like paradise as you cuddle into the crook of his neck, the soft rhythm of your breath soothing him to a state of peace. He'd carried you to his truck earlier, threatening you with a barrage of kisses when you dangled his keys in front of him. There was a rather short game of tag before you relented and collapsed into his embrace, tiredly blinking up at him. He'd tucked the loose strands of your hair back then tenderly caressed your cheek. It took all but one affectionate grin to convince you to spend the night in his camper.
Not a single inch of your body is free from his touch. He pulls you even closer, tracing patterns around the tiny scratches spreading across your shoulders. If you'd asked him yesterday, he would tell you he has no plans of sticking around this town, grown used to a life of impermanence. Yet, as he rests, tangled in your arms, Logan finds a reason to stay.
#logan howlett#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett angst#logan howlett fluff#logan x you#logan howlett imagine#wolverine x you#wolverine#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine imagine#wolverine fluff#wolverine angst#logan smut#wolverine smut#logan x reader#logan howlett xmen#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan x f!reader#logan x female reader#logan howlett x f!reader#wolverine x female reader#wolverine x f!reader#james logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction
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diet pepsi - ln4 (+18)
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where you and Lando have a rather interesting way of resolving an argument.
Pairing: lando norris x fwb!reader
Word Count: 2k
Warnings: kinda cute ass fighting so fluff??, sex in a car, fingering, penetration, manhandling, no use of protection (wrap it before you tap it!!), cursing, minords dni!!
Request: “okay but what about good old car sex with lando pleaseeee”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! first of all, who knew addison rae had the power to make a song that made me write this whole thing under 3 hours?? i certainly did not. secondly, i thought it would be nice to take a little break from the charles-carlos drama, and before i finish the third and final part to that little mini-series, i thought you guys would enjoy a little treat in the meantime! i have to admit writing for lando again was an interesting experience for me, but who knows, maybe i'll do it more often (i have one request that i'm obsessed with so that’s definitely coming your way as well!) also, i have an oscar fic in the works as well, so maybe the sudden change in mclaren also started to affect me lol. a quick psa, i know many people asked me in my last fic, but i do NOT have a taglist and i won’t be making one any time soon either! anywaaays, i hope you guys enjoy this fic, and feedback is welcome as always! thank you to the anon for their request, and good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.
“I can’t believe you’re drinking that in my car.” Lando complains, shooting you a sideway glare as you sip your choice of beverage contently.
You tilt the cup slightly in his direction, grinning. “Relax, it’s not like it’s going to explode, nor it is your car.”
“It might as well,” Lando mutters, eyes back on the road. “Knowing your luck, the second I hit a bump, that thing will be all over the place and I’ll have to explain what happened to Zak. Do you even know how much it costs to clean these seats?”
You laugh, swirling the drink in the cup. “You’re being dramatic, it’s not like you are the one to detail the cars you use. It’s fine, I’ve got this under control.”
“Famous last words,” Lando grumbles. His grip tightens on the steering wheel as if he’s preparing for impact.
You glance at him, amused. “Are you always this paranoid about your car, or is it just me?”
“It’s you. Definitely you.” He shoots you another look, this one laced with mock suspicion. “You have a history, you know.”
“Oh, puh-lease,” you drawl, rolling your eyes as you turn your upper body to face him. “Tell me one time I actually made a mess in your car, and I’ll throw away this can right now.”
Lando doesn't hesitate as he answers quickly. “Monaco. Last year. You remember that smoothie incident, right?”
You blink a couple of times, taken aback. “That doesn’t count! That was your fault for speeding around the corner like a maniac. How was I supposed to hold on to it?”
He smirks, clearly enjoying the memory. “Oh, so now it’s my fault, huh? You were the one who insisted on bringing a smoothie into my car five minutes before a race.”
“You didn’t even have to brake so hard,” you mutter, crossing your arms defensively. “I had it under control until you decided to turn it into a F1 race.”
Lando chuckles, shaking his head. “Doesn't matter. I still won, throw it away now.”
“That doesn’t count, it was clearly your fault!” You complain, holding the can protectively. “There’s no way I’m tossing this because of your bad driving.”
Lando laughs, shaking his head. “Bad driving? I think I’d take that up with the people who hired me to race professionally.”
“Professionally doesn’t mean you’re not reckless,” you quip, a playful glint in your eyes. “Especially when there’s a smoothie involved.”
“Fine,” he contends, shrugging, “how about that time I made you come too hard, and you leaked onto the seats?”
This manages to shut you down for a moment, with eyes nearly bulging out of your head, you gasp at Lando’s sudden choice of words. “Lando!” You exclaim, reaching over the console to hit him on the arm gently, “That’s vulgar!”
Silently chuckling at your reaction, he reaches over as he places a hand on your upper thigh, his hand tightening as you hold his wrist in warning. “It’s the truth,” he reminds you with a smirk, “don’t go shy on me, now, you were the one to get the seats all messed up because of how wet you were.” If you weren’t blushing before, your face most definitely resembles a tomato now as he continues his stream of consciousness, “Not that I’m complaining, though, I’m pretty sure I came in my pants when I made you cum just from my fingers.”
“You– you did?” The question flies from your mouth before you can stop yourself.
The smile that overtakes the smirk on Lando’s face is almost sweet, and he coos at the innocence of your question as he squeezes your thigh again. “Oh baby,” he coos, “it was the hottest thing ever.”
Your thighs attempt to trap his hand as you inadvertently press them tighter together, your nose scrunching up in confusion. “But it was messy.”
“That was the best part,” Lando confirms, his thumb caressing your skin. “I loved getting to clean you up afterwards, didn’t I? Almost as much as you loved it.”
“Sure.” You mumble, shrugging as you do your best to ignore his burning stare. You’d be worried about the fact that he was supposed to be driving if it was someone else, but considering he’s a F1 driver, you don’t comment on Lando’s lack of his surroundings as he pushes your thighs apart. “What are you doing?” You ask, confused as he moves his fingers further up your skirt.
“You just focus on finishing that drink, okay?” He mumbles as his fingers pull your underwear to the side. “I’m suddenly in the mood for something sweet myself.”
“Lando, I don’t think we should do th–hat.” Your voice waivers towards the end as his fingertips press on your clit, drawing lax circles on the bundle of nerves. “Lando,” you try to warn him, but your voice comes out as a high-pitched whimper.
He shushes you gently as his fingers spread your wetness around your skin, causing you to bite down on your lip to silence yourself. Lando lets his dissent known by clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, mumbling, “Don’t silence yourself, let me hear you, baby.” And when you give him what he wants and let out a loud moan as your hips involuntarily buck against his hand. Grinding the palm of his hand against your puffy clit, Lando uses your wetness to slowly push two of his fingers into you, drawing out another moan as you lean your head against the headrest. “My God, baby, look at you. You’re already making a mess on the seats.”
“N-no,” you manage to whine, shaking your head as you give him a pleading but stubborn look, “I’m not making a mess.”
“No?” He asks, mocking the pout that has found its way onto your lips. “Then who is so wet against my hand that it’s dripping, huh?” You're not sure if it’s his words or the way his fingers keep moving in and out of your cunt, but in either case, the overwhelming need of just something more causes you to attempt to put the can in your hand down, when Lando tuts again in warning, “You don’t get to put your drink down until you first come on my fingers.”
After his words set in, you finally come to your senses, suddenly opening your eyes as you give him a shocked look. “Wha–what?” You ask, “What if I spill?”
He shrugs, an innocent smile on his lips as he throws you a glance, “I guess you’ll just have to be careful and not spill it.” The smile on his lips grows as you let out a frustrated sound, and he responds by moving his fingers in a come-hither motion to git the spot, which causes your body to arch into his touch. “Are you going to give me what I want?” He asks, his concentration still on the road as he tries to find a secluded spot to park the car.
“Uh-huh,” you mutter, voice shaky as you focus on not dropping the can in your hand, “I will, Lando, just keep doing that.”
“Doing what?” He asks in a faux-innocent tone, as he goes back to simply continuing the pistoning movement of his fingers. “Like this?” He asks, with a shit eating grin on his face as you whine. “Or, like this?” He asks again, but this time, he repeats the movement of his fingers previously as he hits your g-spot again.
You can’t control the scream that gets released from the back of your throat as your body shakes violently. “That,” you breathe out, your free hand holding onto the seatbelt so tight that you can feel it starting to cramp your hand a little bit, “don’t you dare stop doing that.”
Lando lets out a low chuckle, clearly satisfied with your desperate plea. His fingers continue their relentless pace, teasing and coaxing you closer to the edge. “Oh, I won’t stop,” he murmurs, his tone soft yet commanding. “Not until you give me what I want.”
Your entire body feels like it's on fire, the combination of his skilled fingers and the impossible task of not spilling your drink has you teetering on the edge. The car feels smaller, the world outside irrelevant, as Lando’s attention is focused solely on you. Being so consumed by the way Lando’s fingers move in and out of your cunt, you don’t even know that the car you are in at the moment has been abandoned in the side of a deserted road. You grip the can tighter, your hand trembling as the tension builds in your core. “Lando,” you gasp, a hint of desperation seeping into your voice. “I— I can't—”
He smirks, enjoying your struggle. “You can,” he counters smoothly, leaning slightly closer while keeping one hand on the steering wheel. “You can do it, just let it go, baby.” His thumb presses harder on your clit, drawing another loud moan from your lips.
“Lando, please,” you beg, your voice almost cracking under the weight of your impending release. “I’m going to—”
“Good,” he cuts you off, his smirk widening. “Let go for me, baby. And don't you dare spill that drink."
His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure.
His words are your undoing. With one final flick of his fingers, you shatter around him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you ride out your high. Your head falls back against the seat, your hand gripping the can so hard you’re not surprised it bursts under the pressure.
You hear Lando’s satisfied chuckle as he eases his fingers out of you, giving your thigh one last affectionate squeeze. “Good girl,” he murmurs, glancing over at you with a proud smile. “Look at how good you look.” He shamelessly holds his fingers in front of your face, then without missing a beat, he brings his fingers into his mouth. The way he moans is nothing short of sinful, and you watch him with your lips parted as he mumbles around his fingers, “I think you spilled it a little bit.”
“E-Excuse me?” You stutter, looking at Lando with the horrified look on your face. “No, I didn’t!”
Lando raises an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering as he glances down at the mess on the seat. “Oh, but you did,” he teases, licking his lips after savoring the taste of you on his fingers. His eyes gleam with amusement as he points at the spot between your legs. “Not the drink, though… you.”
Your face burns with a mix of embarrassment and desire, your breath still uneven as you try to process what just happened. “That’s not what I—” you stammer, crossing your arms over your chest, but Lando just laughs softly.
“Relax, love. It’s nothing a little cleaning can’t fix.” He leans back in his seat, eyes never leaving you, his hand returning to the steering wheel like what just happened was the most normal thing in the world. “Besides, I’d much rather clean you up later.”
You feel the heat spread through your body again, and despite yourself, you can’t help but feel a wave of arousal wash over you. Lando’s confidence, the way he handles you with such ease, is almost intoxicating. But as much as you’re enjoying the moment, a small part of you knows this is ridiculous.
“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, trying to regain some composure, though your flushed cheeks give you away.
Lando just grins, completely unbothered. “You love it,” he says casually, shooting you another one of those playful sideway glances that makes your heart race. “Admit it. You like when I make you lose control.”
You bite your lip, fighting the urge to throw a retort his way. But you can’t deny it, not after the way your body reacted to his touch. “You’re lucky you’re good at this,” you finally concede, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lando’s smile softens, just for a moment. “Good at a lot of things,” he says, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. Then he pulls the car to a stop, turning off the engine before leaning toward you, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “And I’m just getting started.”
#monzabee#requests open#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 smut#formula 1#fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#imagine#fluff#angst#smut#lando norris fluff#lando norris smut
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My uncle's friend asked if I wanted this machine that he has no use for, and yes I very much did want it, so now I have a beautiful crusty old friend to clean up!
I've never sewn on a White before, but from what I've read online they're very good. Quite a bit different from the Singers I'm used to though. The hand wheel moves in the opposite direction.
It was manufactured in the U.S. (more specifically - Cleveland, Ohio) sometime around the mid 1880s. I'm told it hasn't been used since about the 1970s, but that it used to belong to a woman who made her living by sewing on it for many years.
There's a lot of gunk and old dust to remove, and I need to shorten the drive belt and probably replace the rubber ring on the bobbin winder, but the moving parts are already spinning very smoothly and quietly so I'm hoping it won't be too much trouble.
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𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here
cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar.
You see both sides of him now.
“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince.
“Hello,” you call back.
The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?”
“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!”
“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step.
“Shit, you wanna see?”
You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.
He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin.
“Another bat?” you ask.
“Not cool?”
“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?”
“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?”
You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre.
The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him.
“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes.
“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands.
“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically.
You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch.
“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says.
“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways.
“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”
“You don’t wanna line up?”
“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that.
“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.”
“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.”
You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained.
Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms.
“You okay?” he asks.
You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move.
“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”
“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.”
“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.
He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long.
“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.”
You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…
“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.”
You pull your head up slowly.
He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours.
Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter.
You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his.
With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.
You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation.
Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath.
“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable.
You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth.
“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?”
“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.”
This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers.
His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop.
“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.”
“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.”
He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”
You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips.
“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.”
He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour.
You breathe out happily. “Thank you.”
“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.”
You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it.
“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.”
You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x you#stranger things fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#eddie munson lives
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Taxi Driver : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: with his car in the garage, lando relies on you to get him home, much to the delight of his teammates in papaya
You honked the car horn as you noticed the door of the MTC opening up as Lando walked out, laughing and joking with a few other members of the McLaren team as they finished up for the day.
“See you guys in a bit,” Lando shouted out, walking away from the rest of the group when he spotted your car parked up, hidden at the back of the car park away from the rest of the cars around.
“Where are you going?” Oscar shouted back at him.
Lando tried his best to keep walking, but the rest of the team didn’t stop looking at him. They were suspicious as Lando tried to brush them aside, with some of them looking, and failing, to spot where his car was either, the spot that he usually claimed vacant.
You watched on from your car, confused as to why Lando wasn’t moving into your direction, soon spotting Oscar in front of a group of them, sinking down in your seat to make sure that none of them saw you.
“How did you get here this morning?” One of the engineers asked Lando, smirking across at Lando began to get a little unsettled, keen to get over to him.
His question had the rest of them looking around too, trying to piece together the clues that they were spotting that something wasn’t quite right with Lando.
“I got dropped off,” he told them, taking a few more steps in your direction, only for the rest of them to take a step too, keen to see where Lando was going.
“Who dropped you off all the way over here?”
Lando’s heart continued to race, moving back away from your car to keep you hidden. He continued to pushed for details, none of them willing to let him go without probing him.
“Did you go home last night?” Oscar asked him, “or did you get a lift from the person whose house you stayed in?”
There was a nervous silence from Lando, his eyes momentarily glancing in the direction of your car. It didn’t take long before some of them picked up on who was behind the wheel, several cheers coming from them.
“You’ve got your girlfriend picking you up!” Will called out, walking over to Lando and throwing his arm around his shoulders. “Look at you go Norris!”
“She’s waiting, I’d just like to head home now please.”
Lando started walking towards your car, but he had plenty of followers behind him too, unable to stop themselves from teasing him and playing with him.
“Tell them to go away,” Lando chuckled as he opened up your car door, eyes asking you to help him out and get his team off of his back.
You took your seatbelt off and climbed out to a chorus of shouts, with Oscar making sure that he was by far the loudest of them all.
Despite it being his second season, Lando was still very much the newbie at McLaren and on the receiving end of many jokes. As much as he wanted to get in and drive away with you, he secretly loved being teased by them all and feeling as if he was part of the team.
“Were you just going to hide from all of us?” Oscar challenged, placing his hands on his hips as he sassily looked across at you. “Weren’t even going to come and say hello?”
Your eyes rolled at how dramatic he was before you. “Funnily enough Piastri, I didn’t drive all the way over here just to say hello to you, I’ve got much better things to do instead.”
“I’m so offended, I’ll have you know I’m so much better than your boyfriend.”
Before you could reply, Lando got in there first and hit Oscar against his arm. Lando then slid his bag off of his arm, throwing it in the back of your car before walking around to the passenger side and opening up the door.
“You can’t leave so soon,” Oscar grinned, but you both shook your heads, getting into either side of the car and closing the doors behind you before Oscar could speak again, with Lando hurrying you to turn the ignition on.
“I’m sorry about him,” Lando told you, slowly placing your foot down as the team moved away, several of them waving as you drove off just to try and embarrass Lando one more time before you headed back home.
“They enjoy messing with you,” you laughed across at Lando, “they must be jealous they have to drive themselves home.”
Lando hummed in agreement with you, “I could get quite used to having my own personal taxi driver coming to pick me up every day.”
Your eyes rolled as you focused on the road, driving around the side of the building and up the driveway, catching glimmers of the sun heating the water out of the corner of your eye.
A line of cars started to stream out behind you as you headed out, the team following behind you. “I feel a bit of pressure driving now knowing that there’s a line of racing drivers and racing experts behind me now,” you laughed as Lando glanced back too.
“I’d drive slowly just to really annoy them and get them back for trying to humiliate me,” Lando suggested, watching as your smile turned up in reply to his idea.
“How much do you think it would annoy them if I went down on the brake?”
“Let’s try it,” Lando grinned, especially as he looked back and noticed that it was Oscar's car that was the one closest to you, watching you closely.
You slowed your car right down, deciding to take the next corner nice and slow, glancing through the mirror to see the sudden braking that happened behind you.
“He’s already getting irritated,” Lando chuckled, keeping is eye on Oscar through the reflection as he threw his arms up as if to ask what you were playing at.
“What are we doing?” You grinned, taking a look for yourself as Oscar’s eyes rolled in frustration at the slow speed that you were going down the road.
It didn’t take long before Lando’s phone buzzed in his pocket, glancing down to see Oscar’s name at the top of the screen.
“Hello?” He innocently chimed down the phone as he answered the call. “You shouldn’t be on the phone whilst driving, I could get you in a lot of trouble.”
“I don’t think you can call the speed that we’re moving at driving,” Oscar shouted down the phone, “you two better hurry up or I’ll drive you into the water.”
“As long as you promise never to tease me for being picked up again,” Lando replied, much to Oscar’s disapproval.
A groan came from down the phone, “I promise to never tease you for being picked up,” Oscar reluctantly told him.
“See you tomorrow,” Lando laughed as you put your foot back down again, creating a gap between you and Oscar’s car.
You couldn’t help but chuckle, “now I understand why you enjoy annoying Oscar, it’s actually quite fun.”
“It’s my favourite part of the job!”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#lando norris#lando norris imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 reaction#lando norris drabble#lando norris x you#lando norris fluff#lando norris x reader#formula x reader#formula one drabble#formula 1 drabble#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 drabble#f1 fluff#f1 x you#f1 fic
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