#HES ALSO TAKING AN OPPORTUNITY ANY OF THE DRIVERS WOULD | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neptuneiris · 14 hours ago

Text

Champion | (One-shot)

Everybody is a Ferrari Fan

pairing: driver!aemond (Formula One) x wag!reader

summary: runs in the family to get into the F1 fanaticism, where you not only learn about engines, racing teams, championships and drivers, but you also meet a certain driver who is currently getting a lot of recognition; Ferrari driver, the Sapphire Prince, Aemond Targaryen.

words: 12.5k

my masterlist

sé que prácticamente ya será Febrero, pero feliz año nuevo atrasado! espero que les guste esto, pero primero quiero agradecerle a mi bestie @silverdragonfly for giving me the idea to write this Formula One AU, she also writes amazing stories so go support her ❤

also, if you don't know anything about F1, don't worry, you can still read it since i didn't add so many terms and if there are, i made sure to put a simple and easy to understand explanation. still, the fic is more about the relationship between the driver and his wag. enjoy!

warnings: language, sexual content, smut.

The Formula One has won over thousands of fans all over the world with its incredible races where drivers compete and fight to be the world champion.

It is one of the most expensive, exclusive and prestigious sports in the world, where unforgettable experiences are lived in the world of motor racing with ten teams and two drivers belonging to each one, for a total of twenty drivers.

The sport has gained more popularity in recent years with its impressive and thrilling races. Not to mention the talented drivers. Your family, especially your dad, has always had an interest and fascination for the sport.

And who knew that you would also become a fan once you really paid attention and your dad would also explain the basics of understanding racing and how it works.

But not only that… the sport also literally took over your heart.

It was last year, at the Monaco Grand Prix near your home in France, that you went with your dad to experience it. Your dad, being a millionaire businessman, can afford such luxuries. And at that time you were on vacation from college, so why not?

Your dad got a paddock pass for him and for you. A whole VIP experience with a privileged location over the garages of the teams, with a view of the starting grid, the pits, access to the backstage area and also with the opportunity to see and meet the drivers.

You really only went to that Grand Prix knowing the basics. And being right there, watching the race live, helped you understand more concepts and moves, and it was a truly amazing experience.

Until, of course, your dad wanted to meet the drivers and take a look at the garage of his favorite team; Red Bull.

It was in that area that you saw him, Aemond Targaryen. Number 08, Scuderia Ferrari, the Sapphire Prince.

You already knew the drivers. And you weren't excited to meet any of them in particular. Until, well, you saw him and the urge to talk to him, get close to him, at least ask for a picture, was too much.

Seeing him in pictures and videos was one thing but now seeing him in person…it was breath taking.

Silver hair, pronounced jawline, pointed nose, sharp and very well detailed features, besides a charming smile making him look like some kind of Greek God… you fell for him.

Everyone is a Ferrari fan. And at that moment, you understood very well why. Not just because of the famous team, but because of the drivers who represent it. And Aemond Targaryen represents it just right.

His talent for motor racing keeps him as one of the best drivers of the last seasons. So far this year, in most Grand Prix he had stood on Podium as third or second place and in other races, he had already won four.

“Oh, it's that boy… Targaryen.”

Your dad had said next to you, pointing him out into the short distance.

Aemond was signing some T-shirts and hats with fans, so your father slowly approached and you followed him, watching him captivated and attentive, inevitably starting to feel quite nervous without knowing exactly why.

Roger, your dad's friend and also one of the many important workers in Formula One, leads you both in the direction of him to introduce you.

The fans suddenly disappear and the next thing you see, he's shaking hands with your dad.

“…businessman in France, big fan of Formula One and Red Bull,” Roger introduces them, ”And Aemond Targaryen.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Aemond tells him politely, with a small gentle smile on his lips.

“The pleasure is mine, lad. You are indeed incredibly talented.”

“Oh, thank you so much. That means a lot,” he holds a hand to his chest, ”Red Bull huh? But you're also a Ferrari fan,” he says amused, making the conversation more enjoyable.

“Well, it's inevitable,” your dad confesses with a shy little smile.

You both laugh and you're still like… watching him in slow motion.

You watch as he runs a hand through his silver hair, which shimmers in the sunlight, tossing it lightly with those long, pale fingers. And his captivating smile, his blue-gray eyes, the way he speaks, his tone of voice, how good he looks in the red sports suit, everything about him is truly captivating.

“This is my daughter, Y/N.”

Suddenly your dad's voice brings you out of your trance, also as the three of them and especially he watches you inside the small circle you are in.

You quickly compose yourself, about to have a nervous breakdown. Then you smile kindly and extend your hand to him, which he takes instantly.

And if it weren't for the fact that he's holding you and also because you're embarrassed, you would have already fainted the moment he smiles at you.

“Aemond, nice to meet you,” he says smiling at you.

“Nice to meet you.”

You let go of his hand and your dad watches you the whole time with a curious little smile.

“Still no scudder takes hold of her. But I'm slowly getting her to follow in her dad's footsteps.”

´Oh God.´

“Is that true?” Aemond asks you, amused, “Did you already join the Red Bull team after watching the race? Because we can still make a spot for you on the right team.”

You let out a small laugh, feeling your cheeks flush.

“If I join Ferrari, you'll have to teach me all the special moves,” you tell him, with a condescending smile.

“It will be my pleasure,” he tells you, without even hesitating.

And it was at that moment that you liked him the most and you were struck by Aemond Targaryen. You also understood why he has so many fans and the media is so interested in him.

His very genuine personality, his kindness and charisma makes so many people fall for him without even trying.

“Will I see you both again soon?” he asks you and your dad, “We're halfway through the calendar and I'd be happy to see you around again.”

“Sure, we'll try to make a space,” your dad nods.

Obviously the drivers' job is not only to race, but also to attend a lot of interviews, meet a lot of people, attend to their fans and a lot more on each qualifying and race day.

So you and your dad say goodbye to him and Aemond leaves, where instantly people surround him, like his assistant, manager and so on.

“It doesn't look like he had an accident.”

Your dad says suddenly and you watch him almost instantly, talking to Roger.

“Surgeries and rehab.”

“But he hadn't lost his eye?” your dad asks confused, ”That one he has isn't fake?”

“No, it's just rumors. He couldn't see out of that eye for a while, but he didn't lose it. The surgeries saved it. Also with surgery he was able to cover the ugly scar he was left with.”

“Oh,” your dad nods, thoughtfully, ”And how old was he when that happened?”

“Ten.”

This definitely gets your attention but you don't ask your dad any questions. At least, you don't until you're both on your way home, on the plane.

Apparently, in his early days and when he was just beginning to discover his talent for motorsport, Aemond was involved in an accident at the age of ten.

Aemond's dad, the late Viserys Targaryen, was a world champion in his time. He had impressive skill in his youth, being a driver for Williams, then Mercedes and finally Red Bull.

Yes, he was amazing, but only for a time. Still, he was a bad dad.

Scandals were known to surround him regarding his wives and children. Terms like negligence and lack of responsibility always haunted him, even to this day despite his passing.

And Aemond, in an attempt for him to appreciate him and prove to him that he would be a great driver someday, took his car unsupervised to practice and suffered the accident, where he almost lost the sight in his left eye when he was cut with metal from the car in the middle of his face.

You didn't notice anything strange about his face either. But Roger was right. Since he was a little boy he underwent surgeries to forget that accident that almost killed him and almost made him never drive again.

But not only did you keep this information about your dad, you also researched more online about his life and accident, suddenly captivated by Aemond Targaryen.

After the accident and his rehabilitation, at the age of eighteen, he signed a contract for the Hass team in Formula Two.

The difference between Formula One and Formula Two is that in Formula Two the cars are different in terms of engines and power, which are not as powerful as in Formula One. There is also a lower speed limit in the races.

And this is intended to demonstrate the true skill of the drivers at the wheel, rather than the ability of the teams to build superior cars as in Formula One.

Then, he ascended to Formula One to become a driver equally for Hass and finally, he ascended to Ferrari after demonstrating his incredible skills so young and scoring points for both the team and himself, where he has been racing for them for two years.

This and more is what the internet tells you about him and his family. You also learn of an affair he had with a woman, Alys Rivers, apparently older than him and a Formula One worker.

It was a scandal for a while, as the woman is too much older than him and it was supposed to be a secret, until they were discovered.

You also read apparently rumors of ´infidelity´, firing of that woman and that he didn't really claim to have a serious relationship with her or anyone else, so he's single.

You also stalk him a bit on Instagram and unable to help yourself, you follow him. But what you least expected is that he was going to follow you back.

As you get back to college and walk out of one of your classes, you look at your phone and the notification of Aemond Targaryen has started following you pops up.

It was silly to get excited about it as a little girl but you did it anyway. And soon after, the Italian Grand Prix is announced. Races always take place on weekends, so you and your dad again attend a race at Monza, the home of Ferrari.

The whole trip, knowing you'd probably see him again, kept you excited. Until it finally happened.

Walking through the paddock, you spot his silver hair in the distance, obviously with a lot of people around him, with half an hour to go before the start of the race. Your dad is walking next to you and when you are in the same area as him, you pretend not to see him and focus your eyes on everything around you except him.

Totally ridiculous but you want to play it cool.

“Mr. Y/L/N.”

You try to control your emotion and finally look at him, where he politely addresses your dad and you.

“Mr. Targaryen,“ your dad greets him, extending his hand towards him, “How nice to see you before the race.’”

“Aemond, please,” he shakes his hand, then looks at you with a small smile on his lips, ”Hey.”

“Hey,” you smile softly at him.

“How are you feeling, lad? Ready to win today?” your dad says to him, smiling.

“Oh, well, that's the plan,” he nods, letting out a long sigh as he looks around briefly, ”Lots of pressure today.”

“It's Monza, the home of your team. Last year you made it, today you can too, and with a teammate like Sainz, you'll make it.”

“Very kind of you, sir,” he says, holding a hand to his chest, ”Thank you.”

“I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thank you.”

Then, at that moment, you decide to speak.

“You'll come out in third,” you speak softly, your voice quiet but confident, ”You have a good chance.”

He places his small, soft smile in your direction again.

“So you saw the qualifying?” he asks you, his tone playful but curious.

“Yes, we were here,” you reply, without missing a beat.

“Really? I didn't see you around.”

Alert!

Your mind immediately tells you the moment he continues with his eyes so strikingly set on you and that fucking smile on his lips. The way he addresses you, so close, so direct. His smile, his stare, his posture, it's all too much.

“Well, you'll see us from over there…” your dad points to where your seats are, “on the last lap celebrating when you win.”

Aemond suddenly pauses, his eyes darting first to your dad and then to you.

“And you don't want to celebrate in our garage?”

The question hangs in the air, as you stand in shock and disbelief.

You know that those who are allowed in the garage are obviously the whole team and people who know someone within the team who can get them in. Sometimes, celebrities are also allowed access if the team invites them, also the family of the drivers.

And also their girlfriends, or also as they are known; wags.

“Can we?” your dad asks him a bit skeptically.

“Sure,” Aemond says immediately.

“We don't want to get you in trouble—

“It won't be any trouble, sir,” Aemond again assures, ”Besides, it's my chance to make you a Ferrari fan… and your daughter too.”

He adds, giving you a smile and a subtle look that makes it clear that he is playing with being in front of your dad, but he means it.

And you just stare at him, unable to take your eyes off him, where the moment seems to stand still in time. It is so intriguing, so striking, and it envelops you completely. When your dad's voice brings you out of your little trance.

“Well, it's not every day that a Ferrari driver invites someone to his garage,” your dad says, enthusiastically, ”We can't turn down the opportunity.”

Aemond, upon hearing the affirmative answer, smiles in a way that makes his face light up with a confidence that only a driver of his caliber could have.

“Great. It will be my pleasure. Follow me.”

After a few minutes, you and your dad find yourselves in the Ferrari garage, led by the Sapphire Prince.

The atmosphere is electric and striking. The air is charged with concentration, but also with an adrenaline rush that can be felt in every corner of the place.

The roar of the engines in the background, the bustle of engineers and technicians in their suits working on the single-seaters, and the sound of orders traveling through the red headphones with the Ferrari logo create a unique atmosphere.

Everything is perfectly organized in this little chaos that draws you in.

You are both fitted with a new collar with a new card that specifies the rest of your stay to watch the race through the screens right here in the garage. You are also given a complimentary cap and jacket, all in the team's representative color, red.

Aemond guides you through the restricted area, where he watches you over his shoulder as you walk, making sure you follow him without missing a beat.

“So this is the heart of the racing team,” your dad says, in awe, looking at everything around him.

“It's impressive,” you agree, looking around curiously.

You inspect every corner, letting the place envelop you. The red single-seaters, seeming to take on a life of their own under the intense lights.

The glow of the engine, the precise touch of the mechanics' hands, the engineers' strategy… all this is part of a whole that only true fans can understand.

Obviously it's a privilege to see how the whole team prepares for the race and you enjoy it, while Aemond talks to your dad and another man and they explain everything in the garage.

You, on the other hand, stand back a bit and head towards the screens where you can watch the race, which is no different than watching it from the comfort of your own home.

Still, the atmosphere here is totally different.

You stare at the screens, analyzing how they work and seeing that each screen shows a different shot, but they focus more on the two Ferraris. You receive several curious glances from some people who are here, but you don't give them importance.

You look at the clock and it's fifteen minutes before the race starts, so you go back to inspecting all the technical equipment.

“Impressed?”

Aemond's voice comes to you suddenly, causing you to turn to him. He stands next to you and looks at the screens with the same intensity you do.

“Yes,” you admit, with a small smile as you pull back a little so he can see what you're looking at, ”Everything here is so… different.”

“It's just the beginning,” he assures you, ”When the race starts, the whole place gets intense. Especially today.”

You nod, understanding, since they're at Monza and expectations are sky high.

“Nervous?”

“I'd be a fool not to be,” he tells you slightly friendly.

“Sure,” you let out a small laugh, ”With Russell and Norris in the lead and Verstappen right behind you, it's going to be tough.”

“I thought you said I had a chance,” he tells you, a slight smile playing on his lips, but not the typical arrogant one. It's more like a friendly challenge.

“You've got it,” you assure him without hesitation, feeling the rush of confidence wash over you, ”If you do it right.”

He lets out a small laugh.

“Okay… what would you do in my place?” he asks you suddenly.

“Oh n-no, no, I couldn't tell you any of that,” you say instantly, flustered and embarrassed, ”It's not like I—

“Please,” he interrupts you, taking a step closer to you, “I want to hear you.”

You think about it for a moment, watching the grid projected on one of the screens of the F1 TV channel, the perfect medium for those who follow every race from home.

And it's not as if you're an expert on the subject, obviously there are people who are in charge of analyzing all this for the team, the options and the possibilities, deciding which is best to win.

Still, it's not quantum physics, it's something that can be solved with strategy and reasoning.

“Someone of the two has to hold Verstappen off, your teammate or you,” you start to say, pointing at the screen, ”Although moving up from eighth to fourth for Sainz won't be easy either. As for the top positions, Norris is trickier than Russell. He definitely won't want to give way.”

Aemond nods, watching the screen as you do next to you.

“Yeah, it's a tough grid.”

“You could do an undercut,” you suggest, “Or gain even one more position on the grid and leave Norris to Verstappen. But holding those two off, it won't be easy. You'll have to be very fast,” you say, ”What has your team told you?”

He gives you a smile, watching you.

“The same thing you did. Only in different words.”

You let out a small laugh.

“You do know about this kind of stuff, after all,” he adds.

“You don't need to be Einstein to understand either,” you say amused.

“True,” he nods, “Although we'll need a miracle if I want to pass Norris and outrun Verstappen,” he points again to the screen showing the grid.

You take a second, deciding to change the atmosphere.

“What about your lucky charm?” you ask with a light smile, hoping the touch of levity will break the tension a little.

He hisses, bringing a hand to his chin, watching you in amusement.

“Actually… I don't have one.”

“What?” you say instantly, surprised, ”But everyone has one, don't they?”

“I know, I know,” he smiles softly, shrugging, “It's a sentimental thing,” he says nonchalantly, “And I haven't found that something that brings me luck, yet.”

That's unexpected, but it doesn't surprise you. Everything about him is always calculated, logical. And luck never seems to enter into his equations. But then, his gaze softens and he looks at you with a look that you don't quite understand, but still catches your attention.

“Although, maybe…” he says, his tone lower and more personal, “knowing that you'll be here, watching me at all times…” his finger points toward the screens, “that might bring me luck.”

Alert! I repeat, alert!

Your mind again screams as your cheeks flare like never before and you can't help but smile as you lower your gaze, completely flushed.

You can't believe this is really happening. Him flirting with you? You didn't expect that to happen. But it is happening and you don't want to make him see that you've already fallen at his feet since the first time you saw him and talked to him.

So you quickly pull yourself together and look at him with a knowing look and a genuine, subtle little smile.

“Then don't look bad.”

“I won't,” he replies, his tone full of determination.

He looks you up and down as that fucking grin appears on his lips that almost makes you faint. But before he or you can say anything else, at that moment a man calls out to him, announcing that the race will start soon.

“I'll see you when it's over, then,” he tells you before leaving.

“I'll be here,” you assure him, smiling softly.

“Hm…” he cocks his head thoughtfully, watching you, “yeah but you'll need one of these,” he says suddenly, picking up one of the red Ferrari headphones attached to the screens, “So you can listen to them announce my name when I win.”

You're already blushing enough without him telling you this too. And as if that wasn't enough, he puts the headphones on you himself, while you allow it and watch him attentively at all times with your little soft smile, trying not to melt.

And when he's done, he watches you with that satisfied look.

“Much better.”

'Don't faint. Don't faint.'

“Thank you,” you say as you arrange them better in your ears, ”And good luck.”

He gives you a last grin to finally walk away, while you see him in the distance finishing his preparation, where like an expert racer, he puts on the red helmet with the Ferrari logo and finishes making some adjustments to his racing suit to finally get into the car.

As the hours go by, all the Tifosi in Monza go crazy. Red Bull, MacLaren, Mercedes and Ferrari put up a great fight. The race is very intense and exciting, where everyone in the garage is on the edge of their seat to see their two drivers in the lead.

You don't miss a single detail, while your dad next to you also watches the screens with his red headphones on.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't just watching Aemond, but that's what you're doing. You don't know if what he said, about you being his lucky charm, he's taking it seriously but you are, looking forward to seeing him on the podium and as the winner of the race.

Then, there comes that moment where they're in the final laps.

And finally, after an eternity, you hear through your headphones with a huge smile on your lips: Started third on the grid, the Sapphire Prince, is the man of Monza! The tifosi are roaring him home! And for the second time in his career Aemond Targaryen is the winner of the Italian Grand Prix!

Everyone in the garage applauds and hugs each other excitedly, while you watch through the screens as Aemond celebrates and runs towards all his people waiting for him at the starting line, while all the Tifosi out there are shouting and celebrating.

Your dad next to you shakes a few hands, while you continue to watch all the celebration, feeling very happy for him.

You don't expect him to come here. It's impossible. He has interviews to give and he also needs some rest. Then he has to go up to the podium and celebrate. You don't know if you will see him again, but you know it won't be possible on this day.

And even though the thought makes you feel disappointed, you accept it.

You take off your red headphones and together with your dad, you leave the garage to enjoy the podium. The screams and victories of the tifosi fill the air. From where you are you can't see much, so you walk a little further through the crowd, looking for a better place to witness the awards ceremony.

“Excuse me.”

You hear behind you and someone taps your shoulder, so you stop and turn around, seeing a blonde-haired girl with a tablet in her hands and formal attire.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes?” you say, somewhat confused.

You watch her carefully, as you get the impression you've seen her before, but you can't quite remember where.

“Mr. Targaryen apologizes for not saying goodbye personally,” she says, extending a small card to you, ”But he asked me to deliver this to you. It's the invitation to tonight's victory party. He says he hopes to see you there.”

You take it carefully, surprised. Your gaze rests on the card for a moment before returning to the girl, now remembering that she is his assistant.

And you nod to her gratefully, though your mind is still processing everything that's happening.

“Thank you,” you say, with a small smile.

She nods politely and disappears into the crowd, leaving you with the invitation in your hands. The tumult of tifosi, the shouts and general joy seem to fade for a moment, as if the whole world is focused solely on that card and what it implies.

You glance at your dad, who throws you a questioning look and you, for your part, hold up the card with a slight blush coloring your cheeks.

“That boy likes you, doesn't he?” your dad finally says.

“Dad,” you say embarrassed, not being able to help but grin like a fool.

“You could see it all over his face when you were talking in the garage.”

You let out a small laugh.

“Will you come with me?” you ask him to somehow avoid the subject.

“Me?” he inquires pointing to himself, ”The winner of the race has asked for you. Not for me.”

“Dad,” you reproach him softly.

“Nothing to be ashamed of, my love,” he smiles at you, ”I like that boy.”

'Oh God.'

The night in Monza is perfect.

The lights of the buildings and establishments near the ocean reflect on the water like glints of falling stars and in front of you, docked at one of the most exclusive piers, is the luxurious three-deck yacht where the Ferrari victory party is being held.

From this distance, you can already feel the atmosphere of celebration, laughter, music and the sound of glasses clinking.

You watch the walkway that connects the dock to the imposing yacht, uncertain. You also watch as people continue to arrive at the party, people who look important with their fine clothes and expensive accessories.

And seeing everything, as well as the people already aboard the yacht, you feel insecure.

You mean, you don't feel inferior, this is your world. It's nothing you're not used to. Besides, Aemond Targaryen himself has invited you. However, the feeling of being an outsider among all those people who already know each other is what makes you feel insecure.

You just hope that once you're up there, you won't be all alone.

Finally, you take a deep breath, adjust your dress, steel yourself and walk up there. You wait for the people in front of you to move forward, who are being held back by security men.

You wait patiently and step forward when it's your turn.

“Good evening, miss,” the big man says kindly and you nod with a small smile, ”Name?”

You tell him your name and he checks on the list he has in hand, then nods and gestures to the men behind him to let you in.

“Welcome. Enjoy the party.”

“Thank you.”

The second floor of the yacht is a spectacle in itself, with marble floors, crystal chandeliers hanging like cascades of light, and walls decorated in a modern but warm design.

All around you, animated conversations fill the air, interspersed with the soft clinking of glasses and background music. Guests are spread out on different levels, forming small groups of family, friends and team members.

As you advance, one of the waiters offers you a glass of champagne from a tray and you thank him kindly, taking it.

You continue on your way while looking around, looking for a corner where you won't be in the way. So you head to the small bar, while you pick up your phone, looking at the notifications on your screen and read some messages from your college friend.

You're already there?

Praying for something to finally happen with the sexy driver🙏🏽

Girl, you've got him totally crazy!

You let out a small chuckle under your breath and reply to her message, telling her that you doubt anything will happen because there are too many people. And she quickly replies to you not to be negative, fingers crossed.

You are about to respond when, suddenly, you feel a peculiar and intense gaze fixed on you. And as if you are used to it, you recognize him instantly. You know it's him. Excitement takes hold of you and you turn slowly, looking around you.

And there, a few meters away, next to a group of people, is Aemond.

Pants and a formal black shirt, highlighting his silver hair and the beautiful color of his eyes, as well as his expensive branded watch and a silver chain around his neck, he watches you with a discreet smile and his burning gaze on you.

He looks so handsome and so elegant, that your nerves completely overcome you. But you compose yourself, telling yourself that you just have to be yourself.

When your gazes meet, he says a brief goodbye to those around him and starts walking towards you with a confident stride, as you wait for him with a small soft smile on your lips.

“You came,” he says placing himself in front of you, smiling at you.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you tell him softly, “And congratulations on the victory. It was amazing to see you win, especially here in Italy. The people love you.”

“Thank you. The tifosi are unique. But today they made it special.”

His words, though simple, are loaded with meaning. There is a brief comfortable silence between you, broken by his gaze that seems to study you carefully.

“Also…” he says suddenly, leaning a little closer, his voice taking on a more serious and personal tone, ”I think I've found my lucky charm.”

This catches you off guard and instantly, heat rises to your cheeks before you can control it. Aemond smiles at your reaction, his lips curving into an expression that mixes amusement and tenderness.

“So you meant it,” you tell him softly.

“Of course I meant it,” he tells you, slightly confused, ”You didn't believe me?”

“Yes I did,” you confess, ”But I always had a suspicion that maybe that's what you always tell your conquests.”

He lets out a small laugh, shaking his head.

“No.”

Then he takes a step closer to you, the space between you reduced to almost nothing. And he speaks again, his voice low and soft, laden with a sincerity you feel in every word.

“Only to the pretty girl that I first saw in the paddock at Monaco.”

The way the words slip out so naturally, they disarm you and take your breath away. The intensity of his gaze, that mix of curiosity and as if he's making sure you understand what he really wants to tell you, creates a brief silence between you. Not awkward, but charged with a connection that seems to speak for itself.

“I-I—

“Darling.”

A voice comes toward you, breaking the moment and the silence, as you and Aemond turn your heads instantly, seeing a brown-haired woman with a tall black-haired man at her side.

“Mom,” Aemond says to her at your side.

“Sorry to interrupt but they need you to take some pictures,” she tells him in a soft voice.

Her name is Alicent. You saw her in pictures when you googled Aemond and in person, she is even more beautiful. Her elegant demeanor and intense gaze make it immediately clear that she is a woman accustomed to this kind of event.

And waiting for Aemond to speak, she watches you with a small warm smile and you return it, again feeling instantly nervous.

“Mom, this is Y/N,” Aemond introduces you, “Y/N, my mom Alicent and family friend, Criston,” he points to the man next to him.

“Pleasure to meet you, dear,” she says, extending a hand toward you.

“The pleasure is mine,” you reply, trying to sound as calm as she seems, shaking her hand.

You shake the man's hand as well, smiling kindly.

“She comes from France. She and her dad have come to the races,” Aemond tells her.

“Oh, nice,” she nods, “And your dad has come too?”

“No, he's resting,” you tell her softly, ”We fly back to France tomorrow.”

“Oh, then another time I will have the pleasure of meeting him. What is his name?”

You tell her his name and at that moment, you know what she is doing. In this world, it is of relevance to know what kind of people the driver is interacting with. It's obvious she wants to make sure her son isn't around just any girl and after Alys Rivers, you suppose all the more reason.

And honestly, you don't blame her. Your mom and dad are exactly the same. They want to see you next to a man who is on the same level as you or more, who can contribute. So it's no surprise but still, it makes you nervous.

“I'll be there in a moment,” Aemond tells her, over the photos, “I'll continue to introduce Y/N.”

“Don't be too long.”

She walks away along with that man and he starts directing you around the second floor of the yacht, pointing you out to his coworkers, telling you their names along with a few friends and distant relatives.

“She's my sister, Helaena,” he points out to you in the distance to a beautiful girl with silver hair, talking to a girl with black hair, “She comes with me on every race. She's in love with Oscar Piastri.”

You let out a small laugh, as you both slowly make your way over to her.

“I didn't see her in the garage.”

“She was in another section. She doesn't really like being in the garage,” he explains to you.

“And you have other siblings?”

As if you didn't know.

“Two brothers, Aegon and Daeron,” he nods, ”Aegon is the eldest and doesn't like to draw attention to himself. He decided to live his life quietly, away from all the press, social media and events, but he still supports me. Daeron is the one who wants to become a driver and for now he's practicing.”

“And he's the youngest?” you ask attentively.

“Yes,” he nods, “We have another sister, half sister actually. But we don't see her much, we're not very close to her and her own family. Still she supports us.”

The two approach towards Helaena and you are instantly captivated by her presence. She seems an absolute contrast to her mother, looking more like Aemond. Her silver hair falls in soft waves and her gaze has a dreamy gleam to it, as do her eyes.

“Hel,” her brother calls to her.

Helaena turns to you instantly, her lips curving into a sincere, warm smile.

“Oh, hi.”

“This is Y/N.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” you extend your hand to her.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, shaking your hand.

“Targaryen,” speaks a fourth voice.

The three of you turn your heads and see a man dressed just as formally as the other men here. He says nothing, just watches Aemond and he seems to understand instantly, turning to his sister and you.

“I have to go talk to some people,” he says, then turns to Helaena, ”I'll leave her with you, okay?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“I'll be back soon,” he tells you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Sure,” you nod, trying not to show how much that gesture affects you.

He leaves and you are left alone with Helaena, who smiles at you.

“Come,” she says kindly, leading you to the railing on the second floor of the yacht.

You follow her, enjoying your glass of champagne, as the soft clinking of glasses and distant laughter fills the air. Afterwards, the two of you lean against the railing, gazing at the lights of Monza reflecting off the water.

“Monza is beautiful, isn't it?” she asks you.

“Yes,” you nod, admiring the scenery, ”Really beautiful.”

She sighs.

“I wish it could all be like this,” she says delusionally, longingly, ”Just enjoying the world, without all these sophisticated people, the parties, the press and the constant pressure. Sometimes I feel like I'll never get used to it.”

“Really?” you look at her in surprise, ”But your family has always dominated this world.”

She laughs softly.

“Well… yes, of course, since my father's time,” she nods, “And now Aemond… in his early days, it wasn't easy. He just couldn't quite fit in with so much attention and so many eyes on him, until he did. Now he seems so flawless, so confident that even Daeron is following in his footsteps as well. But I…” she shrugs, “Despite growing up in all of this, I've never felt like I quite fit in.”

“You don't seem to,” you say, sincere, ”You have a very… calm presence. Like nothing can affect you.”

“Thank you,” she smiles softly, ”Though I think that's more because I live in my own world most of the time.”

“It must be hard,” you murmur, admiring her honesty.

“It is,” she nods. “But it has its moments, too. When I'm traveling with Aemond, I feel like I can do something for him. Support him, be there when he needs it. That makes it all worthwhile.”

That makes you smile.

You thought about asking her why she didn't choose to walk away, just like her brother Aegon. But now that she has spoken to you like that about Aemond, you have an idea why she didn't.

You wish you could understand her better too, but you have no brothers or sisters. You're an only child and your dad's only heir.

“And speaking of my little brother… what's up with you and him?” she asks you interestedly, smiling softly.

This catches you off guard and again your cheeks burn, lowering your gaze for a moment.

“N-no, nothing,” you say nervously, ”We've barely met.”

“Still, he doesn't invite hardly anyone to these parties,” she points around, “He doesn't invite just anyone to watch the race in his garage either. Especially not anyone who isn't from the team or family.”

You take a sip of your champagne, nervous and blushing.

“Well… maybe he meant to be nice.”

“Maybe,” she cocks her head, ”But Aemond doesn't do anything just out of kindness. If you're here, it's because he wants you to be here.”

You watch her intently and curiously, that especially getting your attention.

“He's really not playing games with me?”

“No,” she smiles softly “Aemond can be… intense,” she confesses to you, “But he's a good man.”

The next few minutes, Helaena's company is delightful. You both talk about everything; the tifosi, Formula One circuits, some travel, anecdotes about her family, she asks you about yours too and you both get to know each other better. It's easy to chill out in her company and she doesn't make you feel lonely.

She also introduces you to a couple of people, making you feel more comfortable and included.

You see Aemond in different parts talking to different groups of people. He looks busy and also taking pictures, so you don't bother him. You continue touring the party with Helaena, even taking a couple of pictures and enjoying different cocktails.

Afterwards, Helaena is asked to take some pictures too, so she leaves you alone for a few moments. While she finishes, you decide to go up to the terrace on the third floor, where there are no people, to clear your head a little.

With a mojito in hand, you lean against the railing, admiring the view. The cool breeze caresses your face and, for a moment, the hustle and bustle of the party seems a distant echo.

You think the same as Helaena; you wish you could stay like this forever. But tomorrow you have to go back to France, to college and take care of your responsibilities.

“Running away from the party?”

Aemond's voice pulls you out of your thoughts, not expecting to hear him. Turning, you see him in front of you, his hands shoved in his front pockets and his gaze fixed on you.

“Not exactly,” you reply, smiling softly, ”I just needed some air.”

“Hm,” he says, then approaches you with nonchalant movements, placing himself next to you “You scared me for a moment,” he says as he admires the view, “I thought you were gone.”

You frown slightly, curious.

“Why?”

He shrugs.

“I don't know, it's too many people down there,” he points with his gaze, leaning against the railing, ”It can be overwhelming.”

You understand what he means and honestly… it surprises you.

There's something in his tone, in the way he's there with you, that makes you feel like this is the real Aemond, away from the cameras and the expectations. And you can't help but wonder; is he feeling this too?

This… whatever it is, so sudden, unexpected but intense and real.

You don't know what he's done to you. You're so interested in him. Too much. And not because of his job, his money, his importance and name recognition. But for just him and this side of him that he rarely shows to everyone.

You feel wanted for him. And you want him too.

“I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye,” you say, your tone soft but firm.

Aemond turns slightly to you, studying your face with that look that seems to disarm you every time.

“Tomorrow you return to France,” he says, his voice laden with something that sounds like resignation.

You nod slowly, averting your gaze to the water for a moment, trying to hide the mix of emotions boiling inside you.

“Yes,” you murmur, trying not to sound disappointed.

The thought of not knowing when you'll see him again, if ever, makes you feel more disappointed than you expected.

The schedule goes on. He has to keep working, keep racing in different parts of the world, attending interviews and races almost constantly, practicing and training. And you, you have to go home, focus on college and now update through social media about him and the results of each race.

And you can't be constantly traveling to the cities where the races will take place. You can't neglect your responsibilities.

“I have to go back to college,” you say later, forcing a smile that you hope will make the conversation lighter, ”Attend some of my dad's work events and all that.”

“What are you studying?” he asks you interestedly, cocking his head to the side.

“Business management.”

He nods, with that little sideways grin on his lips.

“Sure, how I didn't think of it.”

You let out a small laugh.

“It was obvious.”

“Yeah, I know.”

You both laugh softly, as the sound of conversations down there and the music slowly fades like a distant echo, making this little space of the two of you, alone and with this beautiful view, more enjoyable and comfortable.

“Well, that makes sense. But it sure can't be as bad as being on the road almost all the time, having to talk to a lot of people a day, attending events, taking pictures and having people recording everything you do either at work or on the street.”

You look at him, studying the contours of his face in the dim moonlight. There is something in his tone, a kind of hidden vulnerability, that he rarely allows himself to show.

“No, maybe not,” you murmur honestly, ”But still, it's exhausting to always maintain a good image at all these events and to be smiling all the time. You're seen as the most important, influential people with so much money and power that you simply can't make a single mistake.”

He is silent for a moment, as are you.

Equal worlds, different circumstances.

You both understand each other. There is nothing about each other's world that you are not used to. You understand all the attention that's on him, as well as the pressure and expectations, just as you are, in your business world.

“And yet, I can imagine you leading something important,” he says next, getting your attention.

His comment, as unexpected as it is sincere, warms your chest. And you smile softly, lowering your gaze. You are about to say something when he speaks again, leaning slightly toward you, watching you with renewed interest.

“Will I see you again?” he asks, his tone lower and more attentive.

Your lips part, but the words don't come out right away. You don't know what to say to him because, honestly, you don't know.

“I don't know,” you murmur, watching him intently.

“You don't know?” he repeats, his voice almost a whisper.

There's something about his tone, softer, sensual and almost hypnotic, that makes the air feel heavier. You can't help but swallow, caught in the intensity of his gaze.

He takes a small step toward you, and though you could back away, you don't. The little distance between the two of you begins to shorten imperceptibly, as if something larger and you don't understand is pulling you toward each other.

“Remember, you're my lucky charm,” he says, leaning toward you, ”And I need it.”

The confession takes your breath away, but you don't have time to process it. And before you can say anything, with alarms in your head going off to keep you from passing out, you don't know who closes the distance first, him or you.

But the next thing you know and you feel, it's his lips on yours.

A slow kiss that starts soft and exploratory, with Aemond testing the waters, trying to know if it's what you want too. And you lean closer to him, lifting your hands and placing your arms around his neck, being signal enough.

Time seems to stand still. The sound of the sea, the distant music of the party, everything dissolves. The only thing that matters is the warmth of his mouth against yours, the way his hands wrap around your waist in a firm and demanding way, drawing you even closer to him.

Your fingers, stroking his silver hair, and you cling to him as if you fear this moment could vanish at any moment.

You completely forget where you are, you completely forget about the party and you both simply focus on that moment. That moment… where it all began.

The next day, you had to return home, but the distance was not an obstacle. Communication with Aemond was not lacking.

He had to keep racing and you followed him at all times through the social media, you also talked to him by text or FaceTime, where you not only talked about work, but also about seeing each other again.

The break time between races varied. Sometimes it was a week, sometimes two, or even a month, and during those times, you both took the opportunity to see each other. Whether it was him visiting you in France or you traveling to London.

Soon, you started attending some of his races. You were excited to watch him compete, but you weren't prepared for the attention that began to surround you.

The media noticed your presence in the Ferrari garage, where you were always with your red headphones on, following Aemond's every move. Cameras caught more than once moments of you talking, laughing or sharing glances at post-race parties.

Ferrari fans and especially Aemond's followers began to speculate who you were. The interwebs were filled with questions, theories and pictures of you in the paddock.

At first, the photos were just captures of the two of you talking or walking together. They never took a video or a compromising photo of you with him, but everything changed the day someone captured the moment you kissed him before a race.

The video was posted almost instantly and social media exploded.

Then, there was no longer any doubt that you weren't the new girl he was dating. People had already found your Instagram and you decided to make it official, posting a picture with Aemond.

It didn't take long for the attention to intensify. People not only wanted to know who you were, but they started digging into every aspect of your life: your age, your country of origin, what you studied, your parents' jobs and their names.

Messages of support started pouring in, as well as messages of hate and criticism. It was something Aemond told you about from the beginning.

It was no surprise and eventually you stopped caring if people accepted you or not, nor what they might think and say about you because you both know what you are worth, not just for being his girlfriend, but for yourself.

And so people not only started to recognize you, but also to call you wag.

At every race, when they saw you in the Ferrari garage with the red headphones, the cameras would focus on you. On the giant screen, your name would appear next to his: Aemond Targaryen's Partner.

At first, you were uncomfortable with the attention, but gradually you realized that it didn't matter what others thought.

The only thing that mattered was what you shared with him, that bond that had begun on a magical night and that, against all odds, grew stronger with each passing day.

The British Grand Prix.

Every Formula One fan in the world is looking forward to the next big race at Silverstone, which starts in less than five hours.

You stretch as you yawn and immediately feel your boyfriend's strong arms around you holding you close to his body, still in his sleep.

You smile softly and turn your body towards him. His face is inches from yours, his eyes closed and breathing softly. You leave a soft kiss on his lips and then bury your face between his chest and neck, inhaling his clean, masculine scent, so characteristic of him and completely comforting.

You know today is a great day. He knows too. So there will be a lot of pressure today, both on him and on the whole team.

“You have to get up, my love,” you say finally, knowing he's not awake but not fully asleep either.

“Mgh,” he says reproachfully and sleepily, locking you more firmly in his arms.

You let out a small laugh.

“Come on. Today's a big day.”

“I don't want to,” he says in his hoarse voice, “Five more minutes.”

“Frederic will kill you,” you warn him amused, “And I don't want to be left single.”

He doesn't say anything. In fact he doesn't even move anymore, because he's trying to go back to his sleep. And you sit up a little, lying on top of his body, starting to run your lips all over his face, leaving resounding kisses.

“Hm,” he murmurs, his eyes closed.

“Come on,” you croon.

“No,” he says like a little boy, pouting.

You repeatedly kiss his cheek, then his forehead, his eyelids, his nose and finally his lips, not stopping and more in a way to tease him.

“That feels good,” he murmurs afterwards.

You let out a small laugh.

“Should work.”

Your next target is his neck and the moment your lips brush the skin of that area, you instantly feel his skin bristle and he cocks his head, giving you more access.

“You're not exactly making me want to get up with this, Y/N.”

You raise your gaze to him, with a smile.

“I'm not?”

“Hm…” he murmurs, placing his hands on your waist, ”No.”

“I have my ways.”

You sit up and swing one of your legs over his hip, sitting on top of him. You place both of your hands on his bare chest and this particular action gets his attention, finally getting him to open his sleepy eyes.

You smile like an angel and lean into him. As he watches you curiously and suddenly interested.

“This is supposed to make me want to get up?” he inquires you, now slightly amused.

“Did it work?”

“Well, I'm awake now. But for me to want to get up, having you on my lap like this, of course not.”

You let out a laugh, bringing your lips close to his, nuzzling his nose with yours.

“And how do you have me, exactly?” you murmur.

“So beautiful completely naked,” he says hoarsely.

“But you've woken up, haven't you?”

“You reminded me of what we did last night.”

He tells you in a completely different tone, and as you watch his eyes, you see that glint in his gaze.

You smile softly, looking him straight in the eye, not taking your gaze from his, to again sit up, still sitting on top of him, allowing him to have a perfect view of your bare breasts, right in front of him.

You push your hair aside so it doesn't get in the way of the view and he immediately groans. His burning, intense, desire-filled gaze makes you feel completely sexy and desired.

He purses his lips, his pupil dilated in desire, watching you completely, as if it's the first time he's seen you like this.

“We don't have much time,” you tell him later, leaning into him again.

“Five minutes seems enough to me,” he says, taking you by the waist, ”The perfect time to repeat last night.”

You don't reproach, you don't refuse, and you immediately accept his kiss.

He leans into you too, where one of his large, firm hands takes you by the nape of your neck to hold you exactly where he wants you, kissing you deeply and slowly.

You gasp softly into his mouth and bring both hands to his neck, clinging to him completely, moving your lips in rhythm with his. Then his tongue makes its way inside your mouth, making you feel a curious sensation in your lower belly.

It doesn't help that you're naked, completely. And the only thing he's wearing at the moment are his boxers.

You feel how your desire increases every second for wanting to feel his closeness, also that little tingle in your between your legs. You kiss him with more need, enjoying his warm, consuming lips, not wanting to stop and needing more.

“Fuck, baby,” he gasps into your mouth.

You settle better into his lap, specifically just above his friend, where you instantly feel the hardness beneath the fabric of his boxers.

“Someone's already awake too,” you croon against his lips.

Aemond moans into your lips, feeling that heat expand in his chest again, just as he feels a fire begin to grow inside him. Not wanting to waste any more time, he holds you more firmly by the waist, wanting to lift you up and place you under him.

But noticing his intentions, you stop him instantly, placing your hand on your chest and pushing him back, leaving him right where he is, him against the mattress and you on top of him.

“Stop right there.”

“What?” he looks at you confused.

“Stay like this,” you tell him softly, ”Just this once.”

He doesn't understand at first, since he's usually the one who always takes control, because that's how he likes it and that's what he's used to. It's not like you weren't in control before either, but only for a few moments and then he does all the work.

Although… now, the idea of you being in complete control, he doesn't dislike.

“Now do you want to lead the race?” he asks you with a smile, placing both hands back on your waist.

“I want to take care of the winner of the race,” you tell him with the same tone he is using, amused and mischievous, ”Give him his trophy. Because he deserves it.”

Without wiping away his smile, he begins to trace small circles on the skin of your waist with both hands, moving down your thighs and the cheeks of your ass from time to time.

“The race hasn't happened yet.”

“But we already know who will win,” you say condescendingly.

“So we're celebrating in advance?”

You let out a small laugh.

“Yes.”

“And if I lose?”

You lean toward him, watching his lips.

“You're still the champion to me.”

With your hand around the edge of his jaw, you pull his face close to yours to kiss him again. His warm, moist mouth welcomes you back, kissing you needily and deeply with wet sounds.

His hands gently caress your curves as you again settle on top of him, with purpose. And both he and you moan as your naked pussy rubs against his covered cock, demanding to be released so it can be properly serviced.

You slide one of your hands down his neck, inhaling deeply to reciprocate his demanding kisses, as he continues with his hands on your hips, squeezing and rubbing you against him, letting you feel what's happening inside his boxers.

You let out a moan as you feel his stiff, hard, hot cock beneath you rub against you, where instantly your juices begin to flow and you feel your pussy begin to throb, sending waves of aching pleasure throughout your body, needing something inside you, soon.

“Hm,” Aemond gasps into your mouth.

Then he pulls his lips away from yours and begins to leave soft, wet kisses down your neck, starting a trail, making you gasp loudly and tilt your head to the side to give him more accessibility.

You begin to roll your hips on top of him and he grunts into your neck, then squeezes both cheeks of your ass and move harder on top of him back and forth, needing that friction for his relief.

You bite your bottom lip and moan, closing your eyes, feeling your desire coursing through you.

“So pretty, so fucking sexy,” he murmurs hoarsely, his warm breath hitting your bare skin.

You lower your gaze to him with your parted lips and breathing hard, still moving, watching as he focuses on your breasts and brings both of his hands to cup each one, kneading them in gentle motions, making you moan and arch your back towards him.

“I love my trophy,” he says to then take a nipple into his mouth.

He knows exactly how you like it when he licks and kisses your nipples with need, grunting in between his licks.

“Yes, like that, p-please,” you whimper, arching your back more and bringing one of your hands to his hair to push his face further against your breasts.

“Yeah? Like this, baby?” he says sensuously against your skin, to again draw your nipple into his mouth as he kneads your other breast with possessive, demanding motions.

“Yes, like this,” you say in gasps.

At the same time, you stop your movements and raise your hips a little, bringing one of your hands to touch his cock above his boxers.

Aemond's breath catches and he stops licking your nipple, continuing to knead your breasts as he watches you with his lust-filled eyes and parted lips.

Finally, you free his huge, hard, hot cock from his underwear and immediately wrap one of your hands around it from the base, caressing it with deep, long strokes.

“Oh fuck,” he grunts, watching you all the while with pleasure and utter voraciousness, especially feeling that pleasure every time your thumb brushes his sensitive, red tip.

Aemond bites his lower lip as he watches your entire naked body. He shamelessly watches your pussy glistening with your juices, then your face and finally your perfect breasts with the two hard nipples that make his cock throb in a painful but delicious way at the same time.

At least he's getting relief and friction from how you're touching him, but he needs more.

“I can't take it anymore,” he tells you, breathing hard, ”I need to be inside you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod immediately.

He sits up a little, his face right in front of your breasts, reaching out and sneaking one of his hands straight to your exposed pussy, stroking his long, pale fingers up and down your entrance, checking how wet you are.

“Oh, fuck,” he says with recognition, pleased, “You're dripping, baby. All this for me, right?” he lifts his gaze to you, still touching you.

He brushes his lips against yours, as he curves his fingers and they enter you, making you gasp into his mouth as you feel the ease in which they have entered you, so slick they make you close your eyes in pleasure, moaning.

“My pretty girl,” he murmurs fondly, “So good for me, ready to squeeze my cock in your pretty pussy, aren't you?”

“Yes,” you moan, then he kisses you deeply.

You wiggle your hips against his hand, needing that and more from him, but for now settling. No sooner does your boyfriend break the kiss, however, than he also stops inserting his fingers into you and instead brings them to his cock, soaking its red tip with your juices.

You bring his hand also to the base of his cock, stroking its tip with the lips of your pussy, moving your hips back and forth without taking it inside you yet, biting your lip.

“Fuck,” Aemond says in a whisper.

He bites his lower lip as he watches the way you play with him. Then he places both hands on either side of your body, watching you expectantly and in pleasure.

The feeling of relief makes a pleasure run through his whole body, accompanying the fact of seeing you like this; your slightly sweaty body, your perfect breasts with both hard nipples and your expressions of pleasure that only he causes in you.

Then, slowly, still holding the base of his cock against your pussy, you begin to descend, entering all of him in you.

“Oh m-my god, Aemond,” you moan loudly, feeling him open all of you as you close your eyes in complete delight.

You both moan and grunt deliciously. The sensation is too delicious and makes you feel wetter and wetter.

Aemond grunts and holds you tightly by the waist, letting out shuddering sighs, watching the way your pussy squeezes him all over.

“Squeezing me so fucking good," Aemond moans, "Fuck, baby."

“So good,” you praise, completely drunk with pleasure, ”So fucking good.”

Only he fills you like this, being exactly what you need. And without waiting any longer, you begin to move your hips against him.

“Oh, yeah, baby,” he growls, ”Just like that.”

He lifts both hands and fondles your breasts, giving your hard buds attention with his tongue as you begin to bounce on his cock.

You gasp and moan at the sensation of his cock thrusting in and out of you and his hands caressing and kneading your breasts with possessive movements that send shivers down your spine.

You continue to move back and forth, moaning his name, feeling his warm breath against your breasts. You lower your gaze to him and watch as he releases your nipple with a wet pop and looks down at you with that twinkle in his eyes, still kneading them.

“Do you like it, baby?”

“Yes,” you murmur, rocking your hips on his cock, ”I love it.”

He takes the other nipple into his mouth, giving it the same attention as the last, as you moan at the delicious sensation.

Then he releases it with a wet pop and kisses you, as he moves his hands down to your ass, kneading both cheeks and squeezing the skin appreciatively, while you this time move your hips harder.

He grunts again and lets out a curse in your ear, hugging you tightly around the waist as you bounce on top of his cock.

You feel only more surges of pleasure that his cock calms as you watch his gorgeous face smooth but slightly contracted from intense pleasure, with a few strands of his short hair sticking to his forehead from his light sweat, looking so sexy.

Each drag of the head of his cock sends electricity throughout your body and a feeling of euphoria. His breathing is just as fast as yours, also hearing the slapping of your ass against his thighs each time you push him deep inside you again.

“That's it, baby. Just like that, fuck,” Aemond's voice cracks with a growl, from the intense sensations.

“Yes, yes,” you moan in his ear.

You rock against him, tightening around his big cock every time your skins meet.

“Fuck, you're so fucking tight,” he moans, moving slightly to get a better angle, “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

And the next thing he does as he feels your walls contract around him, he wraps his arms around you and clasps his warm hands around you from the small of your back, grunts and begins to accompany your movements as he too thrusts his hips upward in hard, fast thrusts.

The air completely disappears from your lungs again and you moan louder.

“Fuck!” you whimper, closing your eyes in complete pleasure, ”Oh my-”

“I'm not going to last long the way you're squeezing me, baby,” he growls.

Your pussy squeezes him harder, making him grunt and curse with his brows furrowed in concentration, his cheeks flushed with heat and his lips half-open, breathing hard.

“Fuck, fuck,” you say quickly, clinging to him tighter in desperation.

He is driving you to the edge of the abyss, as he continues to ram your G-spot repeatedly and at the same time you feel one of his hands descend between your legs and begin to stroke his thumb over your bud with just enough pressure to make you moan and feel more pleasure on the verge of exploding.

“You've fucking ruined me,” he tells you between grunts and gasps, ”This is all I'm going to think about the whole race. You, my perfect girl,” he croons in your ear, ‘And my tight, little, perfect pussy."

As if the situation itself couldn't affect you more, his words do and you move with more fervor on top of his cock.

“D-don't say that,” you speak as best you can, “The team needs his driver. Especially to win on his own house. Oh fuck.”

“Believe me, I'm feeling pretty victorious right now.”

You bite your bottom lip and kiss him.

You feel like you're on fire, the sensation engulfing you completely. His hard cock hitting your exact spot is too much and makes you roll your eyes behind your skull.

And with three more strokes of his thumb over your clit, you get goose bumps and collapse on top of him.

You moan his name and every muscle in your body tenses at once, you tingle and your mind goes blank as you let out a high pitched moan louder than the previous ones and you see stars behind your eyes as a wave rolls all over your insides.

You feel the euphoria all over your head and you shake for a moment, almost aching from it all, feeling too much as Aemond continues to fuck you during your orgasm, reaching his own peak.

“Oh, fuck,” you hear him moan and with one last hard lunge, the hot, liquid stream of his cum filling you from the inside.

You watch as he drops his head back, his eyes squeezed shut and his brows furrowed, his cheeks flushed, his skin burning and the light sweat all over his body and forehead. Truly a sight that steals your breath away.

Pleasure burns all over you, it courses through your body and you gasp, breathing hard. Time seems to stop completely, as you both slowly begin to come down from the high, even with him inside you.

Then, you feel him leave a loving kiss on your shoulder, then move up your neck, your face and finally your lips. You laugh softly against his lips as he smiles at you and you kiss him deeply, loosened and weak, just as he does.

But you both know you can't be late for his work today. So once you are both recovered, you get out of bed and get ready for the day.

The time for the race finally starts.

There are cameras everywhere. All the people around the circuit with direct views of all the cars are excited. Fans are dressed in the merch of their favorite teams and holding big banners or flags while shouting the names of their favorite drivers in support.

All the people in charge of projecting the race live make the whole moment more exciting. The entire team of mechanics is ready. All the equipment is ready and the race will start in less than ten minutes.

You are in the garage, as usual, with Helaena at your side. She prefers to be in another section, but considering that you are in her and Aemond's country, she wants to bring all the good luck for her brother to win at home.

Not only she is here, there is also Aemond's mother Alicent with her two brothers, Aegon, who you finally have the pleasure to meet personally, Daeron and his grandfather Otto.

Even Aemond was surprised when they let him know that his older brother would be coming to support him.

That only added to the stress of knowing the great expectations that are upon him on this day, but it also made him happy to know that he will have his whole family supporting him from here.

You watch the screen in front of you, focusing on Aemond inside his red car, positioning himself on the grid just like the other drivers, ready to start the race.

Helaena places a hand on your shoulder in support mode and you smile softly, placing your hand on top of hers, as you both watch the screen that focuses entirely on Aemond.

You are both positive today, even if he doesn't win, everyone knows what a great job he has done and will still be very proud of him.

Aemond's dream has always been to win at Ferrari's home as well as his own in the same year. He has not managed to win at home, this would be the first time if at all.

Starting from fifth place, it's not too bad and you have to hope he can do it.

Then finally all the cars are perfectly positioned on the starting grid. Everyone in the place is attentive and ready. The countdown to the start of the race ends and the lights start to show their colors at the same time you hear through the headphones the voice of the presenters.

“We all set for the start of the British Grand Prix halfway through the 2025 season and… lights out!”

The driver speaks through your headphones and all the people out there scream in excitement as they watch all the cars start, beginning the race.

You watch Aemond intently and hopefully, watching as he takes advantage of passing the drivers in front of him on the starting grid, going from starting fifth, to second.

The applause and cheers are not long in coming, as is everyone in the Ferrari garage and Aemond's family. But they are not singing victory yet. It's only the first lap, fifty-one to go and anything can happen.

You don't know if he's thinking about what you both did this morning even though he said he would. You certainly are as you follow his footsteps across the screen. You can't see his face but when he takes off his helmet and you see him in his sports suit, it sets off all your alarms in you.

But… you know he was thinking about his prize you gave him this morning, when after two hours, you see and hear: “He is about to head to victory as he comes into the final corners here at Silverstone, the crowds are going crazy! Aemond Targaryen wins the British Grand Prix!”

The deafening roar of the crowd fills the air, mingling with the thunderous sound of the engines. The commentator continues to narrate with excitement as your eyes remain fixed on the screen.

Your heart is pounding, watching every movement of the red car representing Ferrari, representing Aemond.

The moment is surreal. You watch as it crosses the finish line, the car glistening in the Silverstone sun as the checkered flag waves. You can barely hear the commentator's voice amidst all the shouting and cheering from the crowd out there.

“Aemond Targaryen takes his first-ever victory at home! The Sapphire Prince has done it!”

The garage erupts in celebration. Everyone hugs, jumps and shouts as if they were the ones behind the wheel. You can't help but smile, eyes shining with pride.

You hug Helaena, Alicent, Aegon, Daeron and shake hands with Otto, as everyone smiles and is congratulated by more team members, proud of Aemond completely, as are you.

Finally the first three places arrive on the grid, Piastri, Verstappen and Targaryen. Photographers pile up, capturing every second, and you can barely contain yourself. You want to run to him, hug him, kiss him, but you hold back… for now.

Finally, you see him get out of the car, strike a pose, strike a pose, celebrate and run to his entire team, launching himself at all of them, as they all scream, celebrate and hug him.

You watch still from the garage, knowing full well that he has to take a drink of water, rest a bit in the middle of all the celebration and do a little interview. Afterwards, he has to wait with the other two winners for the awards ceremony to be ready.

Certainly, you can't get close to him until it's all over. But you see him at all times. Proud, attentive and completely happy.

You watch as he takes off his helmet and his silver hair, now damp from the effort, falls messily over his forehead and the smile he wears makes the air around you become unreal.

Then, you watch with pride as they place the gold medal around his neck, he holds his trophy above his head as he waves and smiles at everyone, finally culminating the award ceremony by opening the bottle of champagne and throwing the foam to his coworkers, at the same time that they also soak him.

And when it's all over… you finally go to him.

You hug him tightly, feeling his heartbeat still racing from the adrenaline of the race. You don't care that they're probably filming you, you just want to kiss him, hug him, celebrate with him, let him know how proud you are of him.

And that's what you do, you kiss him deeply and hold back your tears of emotion.

“You did it,” you say with your contained emotion, placing your forehead against his.

“No, we did,” he tells you, clinging to you with both hands on your waist.

You laugh softly and again kiss him, unable to get enough of him.

After all, he will always be the champion for you and you will always be his lucky charm.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #hotd aemond #modern hotd #au modern #modern aemond #aemond one shot #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond fic #aemond targaryen smut

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23fallencomets · 5 months ago

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okay i have time now to put my thoughts in order

1) i knew logan was going to get dropped, but we did get pulled into a sense of false security because the rumors have been going on for-fucking-ever that we didn’t actually think they were going to do it. Some are saying james did want logan to finish out the season, but his hand was forced by higher ups (i doubt it since this man has vocally wanted logan out for so long and basically re-signed him as a seat warmer for Sainz)

2) i think the reason why everyone was surprised regardless was because of how horribly they went about it? like first you announce his replacement before you make a statement about Logan, and when you do it’s one post with three complete sentences overall, in the middle of EIGHT post of Sainz. Secondly, you announce that Franco is replacing him before you announce that Logan was dropped. Time and time again, we have seen the disrespect Logan has gone through and he still shows up ready to go.

3) There was no way red bull was letting liam go.period. And if Toto wanted Mick to show what he was made of, why didn’t Toto sign Mick for the second Mercedes seat? He had already said Fred wasn’t what they were looking for.

4) James has been focusing way too much on the future rather than the present. I get the whole remaking history thing, but that’s hard to do when you can’t even manage your team! He’s already thinking about 2026-2027, when they have barely gotten the upgrades to even try to put up a fight. The one time they did put upgrades they failed so bad they had to take them off completely.

5) what are they going to do with Franco? he can’t go back to f2, will have four fp1 sessions (counting the monza practices) and then what? be put as a reserve driver until a spot opens up? can he even go back to f2?

anyway, that’s all i have right now. the whole situation is just so illogical and ridiculous. they’re risking franco’s career just like they did with logan and the risk-reward factor just doesn’t seem worth it.

i hope franco gets to prove himself and williams actually does support him rather than hanging him out to dry. my heart goes out to logan and i hope he pops back up and is able to put this behind him.

*don’t hate on franco, he is quite literally just doing his job at this point.

#logan sargeant #f1 #williams racing #ls2 #williams racing when i get my hands on you #he deserves the world #his statement also isn’t there on the LS2 app either so #i hope he takes time to himself before he announces anything #ALSO #DO NOT HATE ON FRANCO #HES ALSO TAKING AN OPPORTUNITY ANY OF THE DRIVERS WOULD

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scorpiossslut · 9 months ago

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pairing: lewis hamilton x Wolff!fem!reader

author’s note: GOD this might be awful but please keep in mind that it’s my first story and english is not my first language :) WILL most probably go through major adjustments.

summary: in which her father, Toto Wolff, has always told her to stay away from the young drivers. He never said anything about the older ones though…

warnings: 18+ smut/nsfw, masturbation(f), oral sex(f receiving), fingering, cursing, size kink, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, age-gap, praise kink, bit of choking.

Being the daughter of a Formula 1 Team Principal never failed to be exciting.

Always VIP treatment, lots of traveling to beautiful countries, numerous job opportunities and getting to meet famous people. You were always grateful for your privileged life but never took advantage of it in a selfish way, although you enjoyed the things it had to offer from time to time. You always refused being treated differently just because of your status. You just weren’t that type of person. You liked working for the things you desired. Your adventurous side always loved a challenge, and that was also the thing your father admired and feared the most about you.

He always encouraged this side of you, ever since you were a kid. If you wanted to learn how to skate, he’d buy you a skateboard. If you spontaneously wanted to spend the next 3 months away from home in another country, he’d book your flight. One day you showed up at his office to show him your first tattoo. You always said you’d never get a tattoo, you didn’t think it would look good on you. But one day you randomly found yourself in front of a tattoo salon and couldn’t resist the curiosity. Your father was never a big fan of tattoos, but he laughed anyway, called you crazy and snapped a few pictures of the tattoo before sending them to your mom.

Toto didn’t have a lot of rules for you. He always told you “Just don’t get yourself in jail, maybe.”. But the most important and unwritten rule was “never involve yourself with the young drivers.”.

He thought they were immature boys and walking red flags, although he deeply respected them for performing in such a dangerous sport as Formula 1. You, on the other hand were never interested in any of them anyway. You befriended a few of the drivers, sometimes partied with them, but no one really caught your interest. No one besides Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis was your father’s most prized possession in the team. 7 times World Champion (or 8 if you ask me), a genuine person, an expert in what he was doing and the best he could get.

Lewis Hamilton emanated power everywhere he went. He always took his work and image very seriously, always told it as it was and his charming personality never failed to impress everyone in the room. Even the drivers looked up to him, hoping to one day be as great as him. Your first encounter with him was when you were only 15 years old, and to say that you were immediately intimidated by him was an understatement.

The nervousness you constantly felt when you were around him was originally a reaction to all the things you heard about the driver. But as time passed, you found yourself intimidated for others reasons. Maybe it was because you were a teenager and your hormones were going crazy, or because of all the books and fanfiction you used to read at that time, but you couldn’t take your eyes away from him anymore. Everything about him drew you in. His tall and muscular body, his numerous tattoos that gave him a dangerous and playboy vibe, his soothing but rough voice adorned with the most beautiful british accent, his braided hair and smooth skin… That man was basically sex on legs. One of God’s finest pieces.

He instantly took a very protective role in your life. To him, you were basically a child, especially due to the big age-gap between you. But you were also his boss’s daughter so he naturally felt the need to protect you.

Now, at 23, you managed to keep a close friendship with the driver. He was always there if you needed advice for something, always there to rant to about your crazy life and always there for a good time. You spent a lot of vacations with him and his friends. Went to a lot of road trips, skateboard dates, dinner or breakfast dates, countless movie nights, sometimes just the two of you. And although your crush on him never went away, in fact the adoration and attraction only deepened, he not once tried anything with you. He always kept things friendly between you two, decent.

And it frustrated the shit out of you. Sometimes you would catch him staring at you, or even touching you for a minute longer, but never more than that. And you slowly began losing hope that one day he’d see you as more than a friend and his boss’s daughter.

————————————————————————

It’s Friday night. Since you didn’t have any plans for today and were bored out of your mind, you decided to call Lewis to ask if he would go out with you tonight. He apologized and told you that he wasn’t really feeling like doing anything crazy tonight, but insisted that you could come over and spend time together, maybe watch a movie or something. You accepted immediately.

So here you were now, 1AM in his living room, with your head on his lap and eyes closed. You didn’t mean to fall asleep really, but your fucked up sleep schedule was beginning to take a toll on you, making you doze off at very random times. Plus, the way his hand was mindlessly running through your hair felt too good.

You slowly open your eyes when you feel Roscoe licking at your hand. With a groan, you try to sit up and take in everything that’s going on. How long have you been asleep for? “Suits” is still playing on the TV, the room is almost dark except for the light of the television, Roscoe is sitting by the couch, looking back at you with his tongue hanging out, and Lewis is on his phone, probably reading through his emails.

“Thought you’d never wake up.” He chuckled, locking his phone and throwing it on the couch.

“I’m so sorry, Lewis.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your hands in hope of getting rid of the sleepiness and the headache you just woke up with. “I didn’t mean to, lately I’ve been having trouble with sleep. Maybe it’s because of school, I don’t know. My schedule doesn’t really allow me a healthy bed time anymore.”

He looks worried as he reaches out to you, shaking your arm a little.

“You can sleep here if you want. It’s late, you’re obviously very tired. I don’t want you driving back home in this state.” He proposes.

“Yeah? I can?” You chuckle, placing your hand on his. Your stomach flutters when you feel his soft, warm skin.

He looks rather angelic in the low light. His eyes are shiny but tired, his lips look soft and juicy, and his body is comfortably spread on the sofa.

“You know you can, bunny.”

Bunny. He loves to call you that. Ever since you were a teenager, he’d always call you that. You found it cute.

“Okay, then. Can I borrow some clothes, though? These jeans aren’t the most comfortable thing in the world to be honest.” You say, getting up from the couch.

“Yeah, sure.”

You follow him to the guest room. The bed looks cozier than ever, and you quickly find yourself hopping into it, groaning at the feeling of the comfortable and soft mattress. Lewis laughs and leaves you for a moment, but comes back a few seconds later, throwing some clothes on the bed beside you.

“Got you a shirt and some pants. But I’m not sure the pants are gonna fit though. You’re… a lot smaller than me for sure.” He spoke, crossing his arms to his chest. “Sorry.”

“No, Lewis. It’s all good.” You giggle, waving your arm lazily. “Thank you.”

You take a moment to look at him again. He has a soft smile on his face and his body is leaning against the door frame, the dim light in the room accentuating the muscles in his arms. He looked huge. And delicious.

Jesus.

“Good night.” He gently whispered. You say it back and then he finally leaves the room, leaving you all alone. And frustrated.

With a deep sigh, you grab the clothes he gave you and inspect them a little. A simple tie dye t-shirt(he loves these), and a pair of shorts, probably the smalest he had in his wardrobe. And they still looked big. Making a decision, you throw the pants on a chair and only keep the t-shirt, then start to change out of your clothes.

Once that was done, you floop back on the bed and check your phone real quick, before turning off the lights and pulling the blanket over your body.

————————————————————————-

You woke up sweaty. With a groan, you quickly pull the covers off your hot body to try and get some air. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the massive headache you just woke up with already makes you irritated.

Stretching your body a little, you reach for the phone sitting on the nightstand to check the time. 4AM.

“God dammit.” You curse under your breath, rubbing your face with your palm.

You could feel the faint smell of Lewis’s cologne on the t-shirt he gave you. Le Labo’s Rose 31, his favorite. Biting your lip, you bring the material to your nose and inhale the scent. A moan almost escaped you. You could basically feel him, it was like he was in the room with you again. And that definitely didn’t help your current state.

You start wondering what he might be doing right now. He’s probably sound asleep, spread on his king sized bed with nothing but his boxers on, quietly snoring, like he always does. You wish you were there to see him. Admire him. Touch his skin.

Subconsciously, you let your hand travel down your chest and under the shirt, touching at your hot skin. A shiver hits you, and you curiously start to feel around your stomach with your fingers. With eyes closed, you imagine Lewis touching you like that.

It wasn’t unusual for you to think about him like that. But in your defense, you just couldn’t help it. Everything about him felt masculine. His energy, his body, his voice, his gestures. He was basically the man you always dreamed of having, even for one night. You always wondered what he would be like in bed.

Maybe he’d whisper softly in your ear, call you “sweetheart”, take his time on making you feel good, praising you for how good you are for him. How good you take him. Or maybe, he’d manhandle you, make you do whatever he asks, put you in any position he wants while choking you with his big arms and mockingly slapping your face, degrading you for being such a whore, as his cock would slide in and out of you at an abusive pace, making your juices drip out of you with every deep, harsh thrust.

You don’t even remember the exact moment your fingers started rubbing your clit through your panties. You were definitely soaked, the wetness making a faint noise everytime your middle finger would flick at your pussy down to your enterance. A needy whimper escapes you. You needed more.

With the other hand, you quickly grab at your boobs, softly massaging them one by one and pulling on your sensitive nipples. It was all too much but still not enough. The material of your panties was drenched at this point, so you quickly moved them aside.

Circling your awaiting hole a few times, you insert a finger inside slowly.

“Mm, fuck.” You moan, hiding your face into the pillow so you could hopefully hide the sounds you were making.

You imagined Lewis doing this to you. Sitting between your thighs so he can have a clear image of your creamy pussy as he is pumping his fingers in and out of you. He’d have his mouth on you from time to time, sucking your clit harshly and moving his tongue from one hole to the other. His deep brown eyes would never leave your figure, trying to take in every single inch of you and memorize it, so he can always remember how desperate and ruined he makes you.

“Such a pretty pussy. U’re doing so good for me.” He’d praise.

The squelching sound of your cunt momentarily takes you off the trance. Your hand is wet and you’re working one more finger inside of you now, as your other hand desperately rubs at your sensitive button. You can’t believe you’re doing this in Lewis’s house, especially when his room is so close to yours, but you shamelessly don’t care enough about that right now, not when you’re so close to your orgasm.

“Mphh, Lewis…” You cry out, eyes shut.

As your back arches off the mattress, you start scissoring the fingers inside your pussy faster. You gasp for air as your legs begin to shake violently, your swollen clit throbbing uncontrollably. You moan louder than expected as you come all over your fingers, and the thought of Lewis hearing your needy sounds almost excites you more.

After a few moments, you remove the fingers from your pussy. You needed a shower so bad, maybe it would wash away the shame you were feeling at the pit of your stomach. Were you too loud? Did he hear how pathetic you’ve been, just from his scent and a few scenarios of him fucking you with his mouth and fingers?

Sitting up, you scrunch your face in disgust at the feeling of your drenched and cold underwear. You curse in your head for not taking them off early on. What the fuck were you supposed to wear now?

Deciding to swallow your shame, you finally get up from the bed to make your way to the bathroom that was connected to your room. After washing your hands twice with the expensive soap bar, you look into the mirror to see just how messy you really were. Your cheeks were flushed, your mascara was smudged, skin was glowy with sweat and your hair looked like a bird nest. Basically, it was as if you had just taken part in a gangbang.

With a sigh, you take off your panties and run them through the water, trying to wash away the sin you had just committed. Getting lost in thoughts, your stomach almost startles you as it begins to growl loudly. The little amount of energy you had left and now you felt hungry, and incredibly thirsty. Balancing your options, you wonder if you should leave the room to go get something to eat from the kitchen. Your panties were still wet and you couldn’t imagine wearing them now, but you knew you’d never be able to fall asleep again if your stomach constantly demanded food. Plus, drinking tap water was never an option.

“Fuck.”

Slipping your underwear back on, you inspect yourself in the mirror a little and pull on Lewis’s t-shirt, making sure that it covers enough, just in case.

The whole penthouse is silent as you walk to the kitchen. A few lights are still on, but that’s just how Lewis prefers it. You assume Roscoe is in his room fast asleep as well, because you don’t run into him on your way. Opening the fridge, you immediately grab a bottle of water and place it on the counter, before scanning for some food. The indian takeout boxes were really calling your name right now, so you grabbed two of them before closing the door with your foot.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You almost drop the boxes from your hands when you hear his voice. Turning around, you find him staring at you, with a little smirk on his face.

“You almost shit your pants, bunny. Did I scare you?” He laughs, approaching you.

“Jesus, Hamilton. Almost gave me a heart attack, could’ve died right here on your kitchen floor.” You exhaled, dropping the boxes on the table and placing a hand on your chest, trying to see if your heart was still beating.

“I’m sorry. Won’t do it again.” He chuckles and briefly massages your shoulders, before pushing past you to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. After he takes a few sips, he speaks again. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” You bite back, drinking from your own water, almost gulping down the whole thing.

The thought of what you just did a few moments ago creeps into your head again, and you suddenly wish the ground would swallow you. What if he heard? You get self conscious remembering that you’re only wearing his shirt and your destroyed pair of panties that were still wet and uncomfortable, so you pull on the hem to hopefully try and cover yourself as much as possible.

His top lip twitches for a second, then he smiles and shrugs. “Was thirsty.”

He looked absolutely delicious now, with nothing on but a pair of grey shorts and his braids down. His abs were shining underneath the dim lights, and all you wanted right now really was to drop down on your knees and lick them. You couldn’t look further down though, you feared you might pass out if you saw the imprint of his dick in his pants.

You had the opportunity to take a peek, though. Multiple times. Especially on race weekends, when he would just grab his dick in his hand and struggle to readjust himself through the racing suit before hopping in the car. You knew he was big. You fantasized about how he would feel on your tongue, heavy and large. About how he would fuck your throat rough, making you choke on his cock. About how he would hardly be able to slide into your tight, warm pussy, but when he would finally make it, he’d rip you apart with it until you were left a crying, overstimulated mess.

“Why are you so red, bunny? Are you ill?” He asks, furrowing his brows.

When you finally snap out of your filthy thoughts, he’s already in front of you, checking your temperature with the back of his hand, looking concerned.

“N-no.” You almost sound unsure, your voice cracking a little.

“No?” He shakes his head, cupping your flushed cheeks in his hands.

You couldn’t make eye contact with him, even though you knew he was intently watching you. He was so close that there was almost no space to breathe anymore, and you couldn’t take it, so you hesitantly backed off.

A cheeky smirk was plastered on his face though, and he quickly looked you up and down before grabbing a fork and digging into the food left on the table. You just stood there, petrified. No thoughts behind your eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” He spoke again.

Well, the hunger disappeared, that’s for sure.

You shake your head then clear your throat. “Not hungry anymore. I think I’ll just go back to bed.”

“Hm.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, so you grab the bottle of water and make your way past him, whispering a “good night” softly. After a few seconds, he speaks again.

“Maybe this time you’ll be able to get some sleep instead of moaning my name while you’re touching yourself.”

Your stomach drops. Maybe you’re imagining things. Maybe you’ve gone crazy. But there’s no way this was happening right now. This can’t be real.

You’re stuck in your place for a few moments, calculating your possibilities of escape. Throwing yourself out the window sounds like a good idea now. But you feel cornered, and you can’t think of what to do or say. You were doomed, for sure. But you choose to play dumb instead, so you anxiously turn to him and speak.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been asleep the whole time.”

He says nothing, and that worries you even more.

Then he throws the fork in the sink and finally faces you. He lifts his eyebrows and leans on the counter, with his arms folded to his chest.

“No, you weren’t.” He spoke. “Come here.” He gestures with his hand.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you decide to listen to him and get closer.

“Please don’t tell dad.” You beg. There was no point in denying anymore. He knew.

He chuckles then, and furrows his brows, looking at you funny. God, you just wish all this would be over already. It felt humiliating.

“You think I’d tell Toto about how his daughter is pleasuring herself to the thought of me?”

His words come out as a whisper as he carefully moves a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t know…”

“What were you thinking about?”

You finally get the courage to look into his eyes then. You’re not sure you heard him right.

“What?”

“I think you heard me just right, princess. What were you thinking about when you had these pretty fingers deep inside your pussy?” He asks, lifting your hand and pressing a few kisses to your fingers.

A whine almost escapes your mouth while you’re watching it happen. You’ve never heard Lewis talk like that, especially towards you, and it both sexually frustrated you as well as made you impossibly shy. A deep shade of red is present on your face and you seriously don’t know if you should just risk it all and tell him about your little fantasies or act dumb about it.

“Y/n”

You snap out of it. “I-I don’t know what to say, Lewis. This is so humiliating.” You sigh deeply, covering your face with your hands.

“Hey, hey.” He shushed you, pulling you into his arms. He smelled so good, and his skin felt hot pressed against yours, even with the t-shirt you were wearing as a barrier. “No need for that, bunny. It’s just me.” His words come out as a whisper as he is moving his hand up and down your back. “…Just us.”

Lifting your head slowly, you look into his eyes and bite your lip. This was all you ever wanted. For him to want you back. And now that he finally hinted that he might be into you in that way, had you at a loss of words and action.

Fuck it, you thought. It’s been too long. Too much time spent on secretive glances, crushing, overthinking, masturbating to the thought of him. Maybe you could finally get something out if it.

“I was thinking of you… Touching me.”

“Good girl. How was I touching you, hm?” The praise goes straight to your core as his head falls to your neck to press a few wet kisses, and you swore you could die right there on the spot. His hands squeeze your waist a little before traveling down to your ass, massaging patiently, waiting for you to respond to his question.

You moan at the action, getting lost in the feeling of him touching you like that. In a second, he lifts you up by your thighs and you unconsciously wrap your legs around his waist. He sits you on the counter then positions himself between your bare legs. His warm hands touch the insides of your thighs, making your breath hitch. You still can’t believe this is happening.

“You look so good in my clothes…” He mumbles, lifting one of his hands to your shirt and squeezing your skin a little. When he reaches your breasts, he squeezes harder.

“Mm… Lewis…” You whine pathetically, waiting for more.

“That’s what you were moaning a few minutes ago, baby?”

You look up to find him staring at you intently with his teeth pulling at his lower lip. His eyes were darker, full of lust. You enjoy having him like this, you realized. A man, the man you dreamed about, about to pleasure you.

“Yes.” You confess sincerely, batting your eyelashes at him.

“You’re such a naughty girl…” He whispers, touching your soft cheek with his finger.

His other hand starts wondering further underneath your shirt, and you find yourself opening your legs wider, waiting desperately for his touch. You can feel one of his fingers pressing against your clit only a few seconds later, and you can’t help but moan already. He rubs tight, circular circles on your sensitive button and groans, pushing your body back. You lean back and let him lift your legs on the counter.

“Shit, bunny. You look so delicious right now."

He reaches the band of your underwear and pulls on it urgently, leaving you bare in front of him. Normally you'd get self conscious everytime a man saw you naked, but for some reason that wasn't the case now. The desire to have Lewis eat you out was much bigger than any insecurity you may have. You grow impatient already just thinking about it and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing. He notices.

“I’m going to eat this pretty pussy.”

“Please.” You say immediately, eager to feel his tongue on your most sensitive spot.

He pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and gets on his knees, holding onto your shaky legs. You played this scenario in your head over and over again so many times, and you craved to see it finally happen. You really need to see him.

Standing up a little, you think you might just pass out. There he was, propped between your legs, licking a fat stripe of your pussy. He makes eye contact then and moans, connecting his lips to your puffy clit and sucking, hard.

Your body twitches on instinct and you whimper, pushing your needy pussy into his face. He moans and starts licking up and down your cunt, pushing his tongue inside you from time to time.

“Yes… Just like that.” You manage to say.

He’s hungrily lapping at your cunt like he hadn’t eaten in days, collecting all your sweet essence with his eager mouth. You can’t help but yelp a little when you feel two of his thick, long fingers pushing inside your tight pussy. It stings a little, but he doesn’t let you adjust, instead he pushes them deeper and curls them, making your eyes roll and your jaw drop.

“Oh my god." You gasp, arching your back so hard that you think it might break in half. His mouth is still attached to your sensitive clit, pressing torturous licks on it.

He pulls away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers push in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were glued to your pussy, like he was hypnotized by the sight. And he was. Suddenly, his eyes snap to yours and you think you’d never seen something hotter in your entire life.

“Look at you, baby… Hear the sounds your pretty pussy is making for me? You’re so fucking wet.” He humms and gives your puffy clit a sharp slap, fucking his fingers faster inside you.

You scream his name, like you always dreamed of doing. You’re desperately trying to hump his hand to get more, already feeling the familiar tightness in your lower stomach building rapidly. He doesn’t like that, so he quickly pushes your hips down with his free hand, keeping you in place. You don’t get to protest, because then he curls his fingers right on your g-spot, having your body tense immediately. You’re almost breathless and trashing your tiny body on his counter, and when he gets his hand on you and starts to flick your clit with rapid movements, you know you’re done for.

“That’s it. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.”

You don’t hear anything for a few seconds after that. Your ears are tingling, your toes are curling and your whole body is shaking violently. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers.

While you’re busy trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t stop. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, a bit slower now, and he reattached his mouth to your pussy, licking it slowly.

Feeling overstimulated, you immediately jerk away from his touch, twitching uncontrollably.

“N-no… too much!” You whimper, pushing his head back.

“Mm.” He slowly removes his fingers, and you feel yourself clenching around nothing. He’s chasing a trail of cum that your pussy is pushing out with his tongue and moans. “Such a sweet pussy. Sweetest I’ve ever had.” He praises.

You don’t say anything. Mostly because you can’t. Your whole body feels like jelly, still shaky from the powerful orgasm you just had. But you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. No, he gets up and grabs your chin forcefully, smashing your lips together. You can taste yourself on his lips and it makes your head spin and your pussy leak. Again.

When he finally pulls away, he takes a moment to look at your fucked out expression and humms, licking his lip.

“Was it good, bunny?” A smirk creeps out on his face.

“Yes…” You reply, the shyness taking place in you again as you batt your eyelashes at him.

“Good…” He whispers softly, tugging slowly on your bottom lip. “God, I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

God, the things this man makes you feel. He just fucked you stupid with his mouth and fingers and now he wants to fuck your pussy? It had to be a dream.

You want to take advantage of this moment for as long as you can.

“Fuck me, Lewis. I want it.”

The way you just look up at him so innocently but so seductive at the same time, with lips swollen, slightly messy hair and smudged mascara, makes his dick twitch. It isn’t the first time he’s rock hard for you though. No. You never knew this, but he had his eyes on you too. For the past few months, at race weekend, everytime he’d see you, you’d have him losing his mind. Walking around in short skirts and crop tops, or those lovely sundresses you adore so much. It made his dick throb, and he had to make up some excuses a few times just to run back to his driver’s room and touch himself. But he wasn’t only attracted to you because of those things. Your energy captivated him completely, and he knew he wasn’t the only one dreaming about having you. He wasn’t blind, nor stupid. He saw the way the other younger drivers or random people in the pit crew looked at you. How they smiled at you or tried to make you laugh, subtly touching you. It made him feral.

Toto was his boss. They go way back. Lewis admired your father, in many ways, and the bond they formed through working together was tight, for sure. He knew about the stupid rule he had for you, about dating or messing around with the drivers, and he respected that. Up until recently, when he started looking at you in a different light, and the rule suddenly frustrated him deeply. He never had a problem staying away from you. The need to protect you was the only thing on his mind. Then he started to finally see you.

How smart you were, how much joy you bring when you walk into a room. How everyone stops to look or listen to you when you talk. How adventurous you are and openly emotional without a care about what other people might think of you. The way you’re always there for people, the warmth you possess. Your unintentional seductiveness. Your charm.

Now, he had you exactly where he wanted. He wasn’t sure at first if he should tell you that he heard your sweet sounds when you masturbated to the thought of him, but he became desperate. All he needed was confirmation that you felt the same way about him as he felt about you. And he got it. He wasn’t gonna let you slip away this time. And he was done thinking about how complicated the situation is with your father.

Grabbing at your hand, he helps you get off the counter. You look at him confused, scared that he might realize that everything was a mistake and he’d changed his mind. But the thought quickly vanishes when he starts kissing your neck and nipping at your skin, lifting your shirt with his hands.

“I’m not gonna fuck you in a kitchen. My sweet baby deserves a bed, no?” His raspy voice sends goosebumps on your skin and you nod, letting him walk you backwards to his room, as he finally manages to get rid of the only material left on your body.

When you get to his room, he carefully pushes you on the bed, with him on top. The cold air in the room hits your sensitive flesh and makes your nipples harden. Licking your lips, you raise your head from the soft pillow to look at him. His gaze is darkened and his bottom lip sits between his teeth, pulling at it desperately, like he was trying so hard to keep his control. You wanted him to lose it. All of it.

“Please, Lewis… Fuck me. Wanted this for so long.” A whine escapes your lips and you pout, caging his body between your legs as your legs wrap tightly around his torso.

Your confession made him groan. He wanted to keep this moment in his memory forever. How needy you are begging for him to fuck you, how pretty you looked all spread out on his bed, with your hair tousled on his pillow, your lips puffy from his kisses and your eyes glossy and dazed.

Finally, he gets rid of the shorts he was wearing, pulling them off along with his boxers. You're left speechless as you shamelessly stare at his very erect cock. It's thick and you can spot a few angry veins almost popping, running up towards the head. It's standing proud and tall glued to his pelvis, almost reaching his belly button, and it has your mouth water.

He notices how you stare at him with your cheeks flushed and your lip between your teeth and smirks, tapping your thigh a few times to get your attention.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"It's so big..."

"Yeah? Never had a real man before, princess?" He asks, raising your leg to his shoulder and pressing soft kisses on your soft skin while maintaining eye contact with you.

You shake your head timidly.

"Gonna make you feel so good. You trust me?"

"Yes." You respond immediately, squirming under him.

"Just hold on for a sec. I gotta have some condoms in here." He lets go of your leg and leans towards his nightstand to search for the condoms.

"W-wait." You stopped him, pressing a hand to his chest. You were anxious when your next words left your lips. "I... I'm clean, and on birth control, so if you want, there's no need for that."

He turned his head to look at you and stopped in his tracks.

"Want me to fuck you bare, bunny?" He reached a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and looked at you lovingly, with a grin on his face.

"Mhm." You mumbled, nodding your head. "If that's okay with you, of course!" You rushed the words out.

"I'm more than okay with that." He hummed, caressing your hip with his thumb. "Come 'ere."

He pulled you lower on the bed and leaned forward, gripping your cheeks and smashing his lips with yours. He kisses you slow at first, taking his time to taste you. Then, as his hands start to explore your naked body, it turns wild. You feel dizzy as you wrap your hands around his neck to bring him even closer and your hot bodies stick to each other. It feels so intimate, you've never experienced something like this with someone before. His erection is standing right between your legs and it makes you raise your hips eagerly. You want him inside already.

"So eager." He whispers and smirks, pulling away a bit.

You glance down and lick your lips as he lines himself up, watching him tap your clit a few times with his cock, then pushing his head through your sensitive folds to collect all your juices. It sends jolts of electricity through your body and you whimper, spreading yourself a bit more. When he finally slides in, it's so overwhelming that you let your mouth hang open with a loud moan. The stretch is stinging a lot, but there's another sensation that comes with it that makes it so pleasurable at the same time.

Lewis watches you carefully and stills his movements, to let you adjust to his size. Your eyebrows are slightly furrowed as you try to relax as much as you can to accomodate your thight walls around him. Once you feel the pain diminuate a bit you nod your head, letting him know that he can move further.

He slips in a little more then and lets himself moan at the heavenly feeling of your bare, tight pussy squeezing him tightly.

"Doing sooo good, baby. Taking me like a pro." He praises, moving your damp hair out of your face.

He bottoms out inside you and you whimper. He's so deep that you could swear you felt it in your stomach, but you want more.

As if he could read your mind, he slowly pulls out a bit then pushes himself inside again, making you let out tiny mewls and moans as you got to feel every ridge and vein of his cock. Lewis humms and buries his face in your neck, leaving wet, hot kisses all over it before going down to your breasts and taking one of them in his mouth and swirling his tongue around your hard, sensitive nipple. He starts to thrust his hips in a steady rhythm while taking your other breast in his mouth and all you can do is arch your back and whine, overwhelmed by the intense feeling.

"So fucking tight." He hissed, leaning back to grab your thighs and lift them on his shoulders, the new position allowing him to hit your spot better. You felt so full of him, and you were ready to cry from the pleasure.

"Lewis." You let out a loud moan and touch his abs, scratching them as he suddenly surprises you with a rougher pace that makes you roll your eyes back and let out a cry.

“Shit.” He curses, groaning when he feels your pussy clench around his fat cock. “Thought about fucking this pretty pussy every single day lately. And now look at you, all fucked out on my bed.”

His words make your head spin. You had no idea he thought about this just like you did, so many times.

“Y-you thought about me?” You manage to ask between moans, looking down for a second to catch a glimpse of his dick sliding in and out of you at a fast pace.

He went in for a messy kiss then pulled back a little, looking at you with half closed eyes. “You have no idea.” He mutters, grabbing your neck softly.

The sounds in the room are intoxicating. It’s filled with heavy breaths, moans, skin slapping repeatedly and the filthy sound of your impossibly wet pussy getting filled to the brim by Lewis. Your gaze is locked with his and it feels like there’s just the two of you left in this world. Nothing matters anymore. Not your dad, not your age gap, nothing. It’s so intense and intimate that it almost has your heart burst out of your chest.

Your thighs are trembling as he folds them to your chest, and your hands are frantically searching for something to grip onto, while incoherent sounds are dripping off your lips.

“You wanna cum, princess?” He asks, smirking down at you.

“Yes! Yes, please please don’t stop.” You beg, shaking your head as short screams leave your mouth.

He’s quick to drag a hand down to your pussy and starts rubbing your clit harshly with his thumb to force your release. The added pleasure makes you pulsate rapidly around his cock and you find yourself arching your back off the mattress again, struggling to breathe as your orgasm is nearing quickly.

“Come on, want you to make a mess on this cock, baby. Can you do that for me?”

You nod your head pathetically and yelp when he pinches your swollen clit, letting out a loud cry as your orgasm washes over you. It hits you so quickly and so violently that it makes your breath get stuck and your eyes squeeze shut while your legs are uncontrollably shaking. Your juices are dripping down Lewis’s cock and onto the mattress underneath you, and it’s a sight to die for as he watches it all happen.

“Good girl. Did so good f’ me.” He coos, but doesn’t stop the movements of his hips, although he slows down a bit to let you come down from your orgasm.

When you open your eyes to look at him, you find him already looking at you, with an enamored expression on his face. His hand is softly caressing your thigh while he is admiring the post-orgasmic glow of your skin.

Soon enough, he is picking up his pace again and you whine in discomfort and overstimulation, furrowing your brows.

“Can’t. Please. Can’t.” You squirm underneath him.

“You can, baby. Come on, just a little bit more.”

Using his arms, he spreads your legs wider so he can have more access to you. His thrusts quicken again and his fingers attaches themselves to your clit again, pressing into it in circular motions. You were squeezing him so tightly that he could barely move inside you but he pulled through, ramming his hips into yours with brutal force, trying to chase his own release.

“Oh.” You gasped and glued your eyes down to where your cunt was greedily sucking him in. Your milky essence is visible at the base of his cock and the sight is downright filthy.

“Fuck.” He grunts, also watching where you two are connected before he lunges towards you and grips your neck more tightly and yanks you forward a bit. You prop up on your elbows and look at him with wide, doe eyes, moaning uncontrollably. “Where do you want it, bunny?”

“Inside!” You respond immediately, placing one of your hands around his wrist. “Want you to come inside me. Please.”

Your eagerness to take his cum inside your tiny walls makes him shiver with enthusiasm. His tip hits your g-spot with every powerful snap of his hips and it made you part your lips in bliss. Lewis takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you messily. You suddenly start to feel a different kind of pressure at the pits of your stomach and you wince, pulling back from the kiss.

“Lewis… I think there’s something wrong. Feels different.” You slurred, your eyes widening in fear.

“It’s alright, baby. I’m here. Give me one more, yeah?” He grunted, flicking at your clit with his palm rapidly.

The bed is moving with the rhythm of his aggressive thrusts and you feel your muscles contract and twitch with every move. You’re fluttering around him desperately as you scratch down his back with your polished nails and he moans deeply.

“Fuck. Gonna stuff this cunt. Come on, come for me. again, baby.” You know he is close by how much you can feel him throb inside of you.

With a particularly sharp thrust your orgasm washes over you, and you scream, letting your back fall on the mattress as you squirted, your juices making a mess on both you and Lewis. The sight makes him burst instantly and he groans, throwing his head back while he stills inside of you, pumping you full of his cum.

You’ve never done this before. I mean, you definitely heard of squirting, but no one was ever able to get you to this stage. You quickly become self conscious. What if he didn’t like it? What if he found you disgusting now? Terrified, you look up to him only to find out how wrong you were. He is already looking your way, with a huge smirk on his face.

“Look at that. My girl squirted all over the place.”

You blush deeply at his words and cover your face with your hands, but he is quick to grab them and pin them to the bed around your head.

“Why are you hiding? What’s wrong?” He chuckled, amused by the childish action.

“I… I’ve never done that before.”

“Did it feel good though?” He asked with a smug grin.

“Mhm…” You bite your lip and writhe slightly, making him moan at the sudden movement.

He carefully pulls out of you and leans back on his heels, only to see both of your releases slowly drip out of your cunt. He humms and brings two fingers there to massage around your hole, and then he pushes them inside, fucking the cum back into you.

You whine and he stops, looking back at you.

“Wait here for a second, hm? I’m going to draw you a bath.”

You nod and thank him quietly, watching him lovestruck as he gets up from the bed, collects his boxers from the floor and pulls them on, then disappears to the bathroom.

Few minutes later you’re both in the tub, your back is pressed against his chest and your eyes are closed in relaxation while he is lazily running his hand through your hair.

Even though the silence is comfortable, you can’t help but start to overthink. What was he thinking about? You didn’t necessarily think he regretted what you did, but what did it mean? Was he going to ghost you after that? Act like nothing ever happened? You wouldn’t judge him, especially considering the situation with your father, but you hoped that it wouldn’t be the case. Part of you was convinced that he wouldn’t just leave you in the dark like that. That wasn’t Lewis. Could never be Lewis. But your insecurities are still eating you alive.

Then he takes you by surprise again by reading your mind. “What are you thinking about?”

“I was actually wondering what were you thinking about.” You chuckle, leaning your head back a bit to look at him. God, how can this man be so beautiful?

He smiles softly and nuzzles his nose along your cheek, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to it.

You let out a breath and sigh, closing your eyes at the sensation. “I was just asking myself… what now, I guess.” You shrugged, with a heavy heart.

He furrows his brows and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “What do you want?”

You gulped and licked your lips, looking at him through your lashes. “I want you.”

“Then you have me. And you know I want you too. But it’s going to be a lot more complicated than that.” He whispers to you and you feel your heart drop on the spot, afraid of what he might be insinuating.

Noticing the broken look in your eyes, he quickly places his hands on both your cheeks and leans forward. “What I mean by that is, that we should be careful. I know keeping things a secret isn’t healthy, but giving the circumstances, I don’t think it would benefit either of us right now if someone found out about what we have going on. I promise that it won’t last forever, I would never keep you a secret, but for now that’s just the way things are.”

You take in his words. You know he is right. And you’ll take anything as long as it means that he’ll be finally yours. Even though the thought of keeping a secret like that, especially from your dad, makes you feel uneasy. But you’re so ready to give it a shot, just for him. What if everything turns out alright in the end?

“I know. And I understand.” You nodded, closing your eyes and pressing your lips against his in a tender kiss.

When you pull back, he gives you a quick wink and a smile, tapping the inside of your thigh lightly. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #lh44 #lh44 x reader

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pastryfication · 5 months ago

Note

Can you pls do an Oscar x reader fic where the reader has pots or just faints a lot and she was with lando when she fainted and he gets rlly concerned xx 🩷

a helping hand

pairings: oscar piastri x reader, platonic!lando norris x reader. content warnings: mentions of fainting, reason why not specified. note: i feel like lando is a really good friend and i hope this mirrors that!! i wrote this while watching the f3 race and i feel so bad for gabriele :(

you knew the exact feeling that entered your body when you were just about to faint. it was as if you lost control of your body, as if a thick blanket laid itself over all your senses. everything blurred and small dots appeared in your vision.

and because you knew exactly when something about to happen, you also managed to always alert the people around you.

your friends and family knew exactly what to do when you pulled their sleeve and told them you were feeling dizzy. they would help you sit down immediately and let you lean on them as the world disappeared, and would hold you until you again came to your senses. it was a foolproof routine you had created, and it had worked for years, making sure nothing bad had the opportunity to happen.

but sometimes, the routine was ruined. that happened when you weren’t around any of the people who usually helped you.

and that was exactly what happened when you in that moment reached for lando’s arm.

the two of you were standing in the mclaren hospitality, chatting away about your summers as you waited for oscar to come back from some media duties.

you felt the feeling enter your body while lando was in the middle of an enthusiastic retelling of a party he had attended, and at first, you ignored it. a lot of times, it was a false alarm, and you didn’t want to worry the older mclaren driver if nothing was happening.

but when the feeling wasn’t going away, when it only intensified, you reached out to hold onto his shoulder, trying to steady yourself.

“lan,” you interrupted him, and he immediately frowned, a concerned look filling his eyes.

“whoa, shit, are you alright?” his arms came around to support you.

you opened your mouth to answer him, to warn him about what was about to happen, but you didn’t have time before the entire world went black and your body went slack, crumbling to the floor like marionette who’s strings had all been cut.

lando immediately caught you in his arms, gently lowering your still body to lay on the floor as he looked around for help. some people had stopped in their tracks to look at the scene but no one came closer.

“why are you just staring?! someone get oscar!” his voice came out an octave higher than usual, and people immediately stating scrambling away, some in the direction of oscar, some just as far away as they could get.

panic was still gripping at lando, but he forced himself to take a deep breath. his fast-beating heart came back to a normal pace, and as he slowly came back to a feeling of levelheadedness, he started looking around for a place move you, somewhere you wouldn’t get ogled at by all the people rushing around you.

he thought for only a moment before he felt something shifting in his arms and he looked down to find you blinking up at him.

“lan?” your voice was shaky as a lingering fatigue started to envelope you.

you blinked a couple of times to try to steady yourself, slowly feeling your senses coming back. “can you— can we go to oscar’s room?” your voice still felt small, like it wasn’t exactly your own, and you felt vulnerable sitting in the middle of the hospitality. you wanted to get away.

“yeah, of course!” lando was immediately on his feet, eager to do something to help you. “can you walk? or do you want me to carry you?”

you smiled at his words but shook your head slightly. “i think i can walk.”

he nodded in reply, helping you to your feet and placing an arm around your shoulder as you started walking towards the room oscar had been designated for the weekend.

the two of you were nearly halfway there when a deeply frowning oscar came into view.

“love, hey.” he was at your side immediately, replacing lando in holding you up. “are you alright?”

you nodded. “yeah, i think i’m alright now. lando helped.”

oscar sighed in relief, leaning down to press a kiss to your head before sending a grateful look to lando who was still lingering next to you, clearly still shaken up and filled with a protective feeling towards his teammates girlfriend. a person who had grown to become one of his great friends.

“thank you.”

lando only smiled in reply, nodding his head as he slowly started retreating. “anytime. hope you’re alright now.” his eyes lingered and he leaned down give you a half hug, searching your face for any discomfort before finally taking a deep breath. you were alright and he had helped you reach that point.

a small feeling of proudness bloomed in his chest as he watched oscar lead you the last way into his driver’s room. he had helped you.

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leilakisakabiri · 5 months ago

Text

Cut The Camera (LN)

Summary: Working as a reporter at the Miami Grand Prix when your boyfriend wins it.

Warning(s): None.

A/N: She's back! and with an F1 story of all things. Requests are open.

Word Count: 1.3k+

Masterlist

It was a warm day in May and you and your team were gearing up for another race weekend, this time in Miami.

Since Miami was the home base of your organization, and also your hometown, you decided to take the trip over from Monaco a few days earlier than everyone else.

That meant you had also left Lando behind, promising to see him once the race weekend started.

You wanted to spend some time with your family before work took over.

Now the weekend had arrived and you were busy getting ready in the garage, running through your pre-race questions and attaching your mic.

You were beyond excited. This would be the first time since you began working with F1 that a race would be held in your hometown and you had the opportunity to interview the drivers. Nothing could go wrong.

Pre-race questions went off without a hitch and you were able to interview at least three different teams drivers, which was a win for you.

Of course, you interviewed Lando, who was more than eager to answer any questions you had for him. In reality, he was just excited to see you again after being apart for a week.

"Good luck today." You gave him a genuine smile that the camera couldn't pick up.

He grinned back, handing you back the microphone, hand lingering on top of yours for a second too long, "Thanks. Feeling good about this one."

Since you had started dating six months ago, the longest the two of you had been away from each other was only a measly two days when Lando took a quick trip to London - other than that you had been attached at the hip. Of course both of you working in the same place and traveling to the same locations helped significantly.

However, although the staff at McLaren and around the pit were used to you two being affectionate, the rest of the world was not.

To them you were just y/n, the F1 reporter, who interviewed drivers and had no relations to anyone outside of that. They had never even seen you and Lando interact outside of work. Half the fans didn't know your name, so you flew under the radar pretty effectively.

You and Lando had been talking about the possibility of making your relationship a bit more public, nothing crazy, but just something small so people got the hint that he might be seeing someone. You wanted a soft launch, in hopes of reducing scrutiny, and Lando just wanted whatever you did.

As you passed the six-month mark in your relationship both of you grew annoyed at the prospect of never getting to be around each other. If you guys went to dinner, you would have to arrive first, and then around 15 minutes later Lando would show up. If you went out in a group, again, one of you would have to go first, with the second trailing behind after a couple of minutes.

You planned to wait until the season ended before making any decisions.

That was until today.

Things slowly started unraveling the closer the race got to finishing. You were sitting in the reporter tent, eyes trained on the monitor with bated breath as you watched Lando take the lead. You couldn't help the smile that broke onto your face when he managed to break through, you clasped your hands together, resting your chin on them while staring at the TV and trying your best to seem unaffected.

You shot out of your chair as the race drew to a close and you had to squeeze your eyes shut to not get overwhelmed with emotion once you heard the crowd start chanting Lando's name and your co-anchor in your earpiece screaming about Lando's first win.

You wanted to celebrate with him, so badly. He had done it. And in Miami no less.

You rushed your team as you tried to get to the barricade to watch the trophy celebration. You saw the McLaren team running to the podium, letting out a laugh once you realized a certain driver had jumped on them.

The entirety of the trophy celebration consisted of you yelling your lungs out cheering for your favorite person while also trying not to cry every time he looked up at the sky in disbelief.

"Y/n we're on in 10 let's head back." Your cameraman yelled over the crowd.

Once the drivers started to trickle back into the paddock after the celebration it was pure mayhem. Everyone was excited about Lando's first win and didn't have much to say in the debriefs leading to very short responses.

Finally, the man of the hour himself, came out drenched head to toe in champagne, a large grin settling onto his features once he spotted you, prompting him to immediately cut his conversation short and making a beeline to you.

He reached out to hug you, eyes twinkling with sheer joy, seemingly forgetting the camera was there, and you had to push his hands away below the camera lens so no one would notice.

His eyes immediately shot up to yours at the rejection, and you hoped he would understand once you started talking,

"Hello, Lando! Congratulations on the win, you're very first! How do you feel?" You couldn't hide the excitement in your voice.

He continued to gaze at you for a beat longer before responding, "It feels amazing. I'm so happy to have won, I feel like our team really put in the effort this week and it paid off. I for one wanted to win this weekend in particular."

You arched an eyebrow, a smile ghosting your lips, "Any reason why?"

His smile mirrored your own, "I've always loved Miami. Think this city has my good luck charm," He boasted.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his response, his boldness taking you off guard, as you moved to hastily tuck your hair behind your ear, his eyes following your every movement.

You glanced back up at him, "What does this win mean for you?"

"It means everything." His words were rushed, almost like he physically couldn't hold them back any longer.

You waited for him to continue, "It means that all the sacrifices my parents had to make, all the years spent helping me, supporting me, and allowing me to chase my dreams even though it was a long shot, finally paid off. It means that I was finally able to make a team proud that has believed in me time and time again even when I gave them reasons not to. This win isn't just for me, it's for every single person who helped me get where I am, every person who made me who I am, and for those who continue to shape the person I'm becoming."

Your heart melted at his answer, and you could see the sincerity and passion so clearly in his eyes that it was hard to form a response,

"Well you earned the title you got today, and I'm sure every person you mentioned is immensely proud of what you've just accomplished. I'll leave you to celebrate with your team."

You wanted to end the interview there. After his emotional response, you weren't sure how much longer you could remain professional.

It seemed Lando had other plans though.

As you reached for his mic, his hand landed on top of yours, stopping you.

"No."

"No?" You looked up confused, but he was already leaning down.

His free hand wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you closer as his other hand pushed the mic against the camera, trying to block the shot.

Your head tilted back in his grip and your hand instinctively wrapped around his shoulder bringing him closer. It took your brain a few seconds to register what was happening, and where, and by then he was already pulling away, tugging you into his side as he looked down with a shit-eating grin.

Your cheeks were pink, and your mouth was slightly open, not believing what just happened.

You looked at your cameraman, and he seemed just as shocked, finally you spoke, voice unsteady, "Cut the camera?"

#lando norris #f1 #lando x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #lando imagine #lando x you #mclaren

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sixosix · 8 months ago

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no one's ever had me, not like you

timeskip!hinata shoyo x reader

“Are you really sure that you’re swearing off of dating?”

You wonder how many times you’ll be asked that before you finally get pressured into mingling just to get them off your back. But Akane, bless her heart, looks genuinely concerned, like choosing to stay single was a cruel fate she wouldn’t wish for anyone to bear.

“It’s not a big deal,” you tell her. “Dating’s just not for me.”

You think back to all your previous relationships, and find that you have never been more sure of your decision.

“It just means you haven’t found the right one!” To your left, Yuki, who is alarmingly a lot of shots in, exclaims. She becomes violent when drunk. You would know, your arm is starting to turn red from her smacking when laughing.

You shrug uncomfortably. “I’m not looking for any right one.”

Akane and Yuki share a glance.

“Well, if you say so,” Akane cedes.

Then Yuki slams her hands on the table as she bolts upright, expression grave and voice low as she says, “We’re doing it, though, right?”

You laugh under your breath. Yuki looks a little ridiculous, drunk, and swaying on her feet even when standing still. Her grip on her glass wavers, and you quickly pluck it from her grasp, ignoring her protesting wail.

Akane brightens. “Yes! Of course we’re doing it!”

You instead hand Yuki a glass of water. “Doing what? Are you two up to no good again?”

“Yes!” Yuki exclaims at the same time Akane calmly clarifies, “Noya’s inviting close friends out for dinner tomorrow.” Which makes sense, because they were pretty much the same thing.

“Oh! Nishinoya’s back?”

“Just arrived today! He said he’s visiting for a while.” Akane fishes out her phone from her hand, then pulls out the class’s group chat that you could never bring yourself to check ever since it hit 999+ notifications. It displays a picture of Nishinoya holding up a peace sign, face serious, and next to a large airport sign.

You hum thoughtfully. “I guess if you guys are coming…”

“Let’s go!” Yuki pumps her fists in the air. Akane smiles and tells her to settle down. Akane drank twice as many shots than her.

“Who else is coming?” You ask. “I might pass if it’s the entire school.”

“Noya’s not that wild. I heard it’s just his volleyball team, Ryuunosuke, and us,” Akane says. “I heard they’re also celebrating because Noya’s treating his kouhai’s return from Brazil.”

“Brazil?” The other side of the world! “Yuu and his friends sure are adventurous,” you remark in amusement, sipping idly on your own drink. It’s milder than either of theirs since you were assigned as the designated driver.

“You’ve heard of the guy. Hinata Shoyo, I think it was.”

You inhale your drink and start heaving. Akane’s hands flutter all over you in panic while Yuki descends in deep thought.

Yuki snapped her fingers. “Oh, right! Wasn’t that the first year who had a big crush on you when we were in second year? Noya’s favorite kouhai, Shoyo.”

Hinata Shoyo.

The first time you met Hinata Shoyo was when Nishinoya decided to invite close friends to watch them play. It was an ordinary day, and they had just come back from the Interhigh preliminaries. Their coach agreed to let them take it slow and relax, so Noya used it as an opportunity to invite his friends (it was just you who was free) to watch (read: to show off).

Having nothing better to do during club hours, you agreed.

You were late, stuck with cleaning duty, and forced to catch up to Noya, who had first wheeled into the volleyball gymnasium. The door was shut. You took deep, deep breaths before sliding it open and nearly having your face flattened by a volleyball speeding towards you.

Well, of course, it was a volleyball gymnasium.

Luckily, you managed to swerve out of the way and prevent long-lasting damage to your face. But the shock was more brutal than the would-be impact. You gaped at the ball that rolled onto the grass miles away. Just how fast was that thing?

“Y/N!” Nishinoya’s voice rang throughout the stunned silence of the gym.

Your head whipped around just in time to see a little guy with a mop of orange hair bound over to you.

“Sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry—-” He then looked up at you, now only inches away, and seemed to have run out of apologies. His face exploded in a bright shade of red, but his eyes looked like they were bluescreening.

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s fine!” You wave your hand to dismiss his guilt. “I didn’t actually get hit. Well—almost. But I didn’t! That was amazingly fast!” You hoped the praise would snap him out of it, but he was still gaping at you like you’d grown two heads. Or maybe you had something on your face?

Nishinoya comes barreling over soon enough, brows furrowed. “Y/N! Are you okay? You could’ve died!”

You frowned. “Idiot. I’m not going to die from that.”

Your statement seemed to shatter the tension that froze everyone in place. The captain murmured for them to continue practicing as Noya fluttered all over you like a mother hen, insisting on an ice pack.

Tanaka materialized out of nowhere. “Y/N! It’s you!”

“Ryuu!” You exclaim in delight, returning his hug. “Ryuu, it’s nice to see you again!”

Nishinoya turned to the tiny redhead with a raised eyebrow. “You good, Shoyo?”

Shoyo finally flinched out of his daze, narrowly avoiding your curious eyes. “Y-Yes! I’m just—I’ll go get the ball!” he squeaked out, nearly tripping over his own feet on a flat surface.

Nishinoya snorted, sharp eyes following Shoyo. “I think he has a crush on you.”

Tanaka cackled. “No way! Is that why Hinata looks so constipated?”

Hinata Shoyo. You glanced back just in time to catch him fumbling with the volleyball, trembling like a frightened mouse. It’s cute.

Now, you can confidently state that Hinata Shoyo is no longer just cute. Five years later, July, in an unsuspecting get-together party hosted by Nishinoya, and Hinata Shoyo definitely isn’t the same as before.

“Everyone!” Nishinoya’s voice bellows out throughout the venue. For such a small guy, he has the voice of a booming speaker. “Everyone, quiet! Shoyo’s here!”

Choruses of Hinata! echo through everyone as the crowd dispersed and bounded over to where Nishinoya was. You hear a faint laugh and a “Thank you!” From here, you could tell that his voice had gotten deeper. Still light and high, but it was different from the squeakiness you remembered.

Ever since finding out that Hinata had been back from Brazil, it turns out that his grand debut in the Nationals was aired all over. He’s famous now, not just some kid in Karasuno’s Volleyball Club.

“Ooh,” Yuki giggles maniacally. She hasn’t drunk anything yet. “He’s here. Do you think he still has a crush on you?”

“I doubt it. It was probably because I was his senpai back then. Remember how you reacted to Daichi-san visiting our hall? Everyone in our class was swooning, especially the boys!”

“Something about volleyball players, I tell you,” Yuki says, her gaze drifting over to where Akane was giggling as she talked with them. “Hmm. Speaking of them, I think one of them is on his way here.”

“What?”

Yuki takes one last sip of her tequila shot and leaves without another word. You didn’t have to turn—didn’t even have to move. You can feel his presence the moment he is right behind you, like a burst of warmth hovering, but it’s gold and bright, so you’re not terrified

Hinata Shoyo sits beside you, asking for a drink. You can’t help but stare.

He turned to you, then seemed to do a double take. Hinata Shoyo—now built twice as big as he once was; no longer the cute, lanky, and short kouhai from your past; with neatly trimmed hair and a much deeper voice—stares at you in astonishment. Hinata Shoyo emits a wordless exclamation.

“Senpai!” he exclaims in disbelief.

“Hinata,” you laugh softly, fondly. “We’re not in high school anymore. I’m pretty sure we’re the same age. You can just call me Y/N.”

“Y-You—” He splutters, face tinged pink despite the untouched shot in front of him. “Thanks!”

“You’re welcome.” You smile, tilting your head and grinning wider at the way his eye catches on the curve of your neck. “So, how have you been?”

He forgets about the drink he just ordered, seemingly getting redder in the face as you inch closer. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve assumed he was drunk. Hinata Shoyo grins sheepishly, blushing and looking beautiful under the dim lighting of the venue.

Swearing off of dating, hmm…

You consider him—his bright eyes, his wide and ever-genuine smile, and his undivided attention on you. Does he still have a crush on you? Or was it just the surprise that had him so flustered? You throw your head back and gulp down a shot, ignoring the burn that slid down your throat. You suppose there was no harm in finding out.

#haikyuu x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo x you #hinata shouyou x reader #shoyo hinata x reader #haikyuu imagines

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incomplete-leclerc · 14 days ago

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　𝗔𝗙𝗙𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝟭 𝗚𝗥𝗜𝗗.　formula one · #f1

　　　the f1 grid drivers' favourite ways to show affection.

genres : fluff ... established relationships ... f1 grid x reader (lando norris, kimi antonelli, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, oscar piastri, ollie bearman included).　word count : 1.2k (around 200 per driver).　warnings : kissing in carlos' ... just cute fluff ... not proofread.　 note : these are finally done yay!! super happy to be posting this, and hopefully more headcanons otw soon.　　　( masterlist )　( taglist )

　𝗟𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗜𝗦 · 𝗧𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗔𝗜𝗥

You love tousling Lando’s curls, taking any chance you can to mess up his hair. But he loves to do it in return and it eventually became your love language. Always calling each other funny names like idiot, muppet, moron, or dummy, but it all comes from a place of affection, and you’ve grown quite attached to the names.

Lando also loves trying to style your hair, whether it’s short or long, he figures he can do something with it. He can successfully do a ponytail, and you’ve tried to teach him braiding to… limited success. But what he does love is hair accessories (bows, clips, ribbons, headbands, anything he can get his hands on). But, of course, you turn the tables on him eventually and he ends up with pink hair clips all over his dark curls which look both adorable and silly. He might say he doesn’t like them, but deep down, he would let you have full reign over his hair again just to see the excited smile on your face and contagious giggles.

After tough races or when you’re both tired, playing with Lando’s hair makes him super drowsy, and he’ll often fall asleep on your lap. You let him doze off whenever he wants, but not before snapping a few cute pictures of him for future teasing.

　𝗞𝗜𝗠𝗜 𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗜 · 𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗦

Kimi needs to hold your hand whenever possible. Needs seems like an exaggeration, and indeed, Ollie ruthlessly teases him whenever it gets mentioned, but no other word quite describes it perfectly. Whenever there is an opportunity to clasp his hand with yours, he takes it.

When you get up to go out the door, his hand leads you outside. When you’re standing in line to get food, his thumb traces your knuckles. Before he gets into his car for a race, he gives your hand one last little squeeze for good luck. It became more than just a mere gesture over the years. It’s his habit now. Kimi holds your hand so often that it feels wrong when he doesn’t have the option.He loves the feeling of your soft skin, the fact that it keeps you two close but not too close. He can keep it on the downlow as well, hidden away from cameras, and it still works when he has his helmet on (which is where kisses fall short). It’s the perfect mix of romantic and subtle. When he needs comfort, he already has your touch, and when he feels extra affectionate, he can press a small kiss to the back of your hand. Hand holding is Kimi’s way to show affection.

　𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗟𝗘𝗦 𝗟𝗘𝗖𝗟𝗘𝗥𝗖 · 𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗘

Charles loves your face. He loves to look at it, hold it, kiss it, see it scrunch up in annoyance or melt with a look of love because of him. And there’s something so gentle and careful in the way he cradles your jaw or brushes his thumb over your cheek. It has butterflies swarming to your stomach at the sight of his smile. You can tell he adores every feature of you, watching his green eyes study your face so lovingly, because it’s his favourite thing to look at. Sometimes Charles swears he could drown in your eyes because of how beautiful they are. I just can’t look away from you, mon ange.

He’ll press kisses to your forehead, or lead your face closer to his so he can give you a kiss on the lips. It is usually only during quiet intimate moments, after a long day, or during a romantic date, that you both get completely lost in each other’s eyes, finding some sense of calm by getting lost in the way he looks at you. There’s overflowing love in each look and gaze, and only the sweetest words would fall from his lips during these moments.

　𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗟𝗢𝗦 𝗦𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗭 · 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗦

Some would save romantic kisses on the lips for a special moment, but not Carlos. He will make up any excuse to kiss you every hour of the day. And he quite literally does. Every moment calls for a kiss from Carlos, whether it was a race win, waking up in the morning, before a meal, during his morning coffee— he really finds excuses at any time of the day.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the taste of your lips, and he really hopes he never does. Because that would be tragic as far as he’s concerned.

There have been multiple times when he showed up to work with lipstick smudged on the side of his lips that he never noticed (he likes to interrupt you when you do your makeup). You rarely tell him when it happens because you think it’s funnier to send him off oblivious.

He likes all the romantic moments between you two, but especially when he gets lost in a kiss, holding you gently in his arms, sometimes swaying back and forth. The laughter in between kisses and touches that speak a million silent words. Those are the moments that Carlos adores and thinks back to often whenever he daydreams.

　𝗢𝗦𝗖𝗔𝗥 𝗣𝗜𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗜 · 𝗙𝗢𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗦

Oscar shows his affection in the way his eyes are always on you; in the way he is always listening to whatever you have to say like it’s the most important thing, even if it was a silly comment that didn’t matter; in the way there is always a smile playing on his lips as he watches you do anything.

His attentiveness speaks for itself. Perhaps he isn’t the most overly romantic person. He likes things to be simple. But you could never doubt how much he cares, because it’s clear every single day.He really doesn’t think he’s that obvious with how much he is endeared by you, but practically everyone else can tell by how much Oscar stares. If you follow his line of sight, it’ll almost always lead to you, and even you tease him about this. Not like anything would stop him, though. He’s just too fond of you, and you love the genuine smiles that can always be found plastered on his face. People say Oscar doesn’t show much emotion, but with you, he can’t help but let the happiness and affection that he feels show on his face.

　𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗜𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗠𝗔𝗡 · 𝗛𝗨𝗚𝗦

Fitting to his name, Ollie likes to give you bear hugs at least once a day. After winning a race, he’ll come running and scoop you up in his arms, lifting you off your feet at times. Hugs that sway back and forth and knock the breath out of you— those are the kinds he adores.

Although he’s very good at being gentle, his excitement manifests itself into his hold on you, and he sometimes forgets exactly how strong he is. But you love how he gets swept away with the emotions of it and though you might shriek in shock at times, you trust Ollie with your life. He would never drop you.

On a calmer day with less adrenaline, he likes back hugs, following you around the house attached like a koala. He’s quite clingy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. His schedule forces him away from you often enough that you savour the moments you get with him to just be close and romantic. The regularity of you missing him only feeds your affection whenever you are together, and over time, the feeling of being in Ollie’s arms becomes more familiar than home to you.

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neovillains · 2 months ago

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A MINOR INFRACTION | TOJI FUSHIGURO

syn. you'd do anything not to get a speeding ticket. | 3.0k words ( minors, ageless, and blank blogs: do not interact. )

── police officer!toji fushiguro & fem-bodied!reader, pwp, power imbalance, a nasty & filthy blowjob, deepthroating, gagging, public sex (roadside), cum swallowing.

note. i need toji in a way that is so filthy and disgusting and nasty. it's so bad. also, here is an accurate representation of what i want to do to his cock, and what reader will be doing in this fic.

You weren’t a patient person. You didn’t like to wait for things and often found yourself impatient in long grocery lines. You’d huff and puff silently to yourself, sending people a faux smile when they dared to look in your direction. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when exactly in your life did you build up such a low tolerance for the virtue, but you don’t exactly care. If you want something, you’ve got to have it as soon as possible. And you desperately want to get home.

Unlike the grocery store, you have an even worse tolerance for traffic and slow drivers. There were always the ones that went too slow in the fast lane, forcing you to speed past them at their selfishness; and, an asshole that never knew where they were going. Don’t even get started on the nosey people that wanted to lurk at a crime scene, always slowing down to get a good peek at a car wreckage instead of minding their own business. Any time you got the opportunity, you’d zing through the clear roads, the speedometer hitting over seventy mph in a forty-five. You usually get away with it, believing yourself to be an expert at controlling your speed and knowing just when to slow down.

This time was no different. The moment you hopped in your car, you took a few seconds to set up a playlist before you were starting up the car and putting it in reverse. In three sharp moves, you were out of your work facility and cruising down the streets. As usual, your work days were long and you always complained of a headache right after. However, today seemed to be the worst of it as you weren’t able to get a lunch break because of the amount of call outs from work and your section of the building heavily understaffed. Your manager insisted that you would get a break at some point, but that never happened.

You could tell that he figured your annoyance with how you failed to respond to his farewell when you let out an exasperated sigh and trudged right towards the elevators. You hadn’t uttered out a word to anyone, and that’s how you wanted it.

Ten minutes away from home, you figured that if you just accelerated just a little bit more, you could knock it down to five minutes. The road was clear and there was only one other vehicle in sight. As long as you didn’t kill anyone, you were fine.

You had spoken too soon. The same vehicle you mentioned prior quickly catching up to you as red and blue lights flashed behind you before the siren went off. Gripping the steering wheel, you curse. Hitting your brakes gently, you pulled up to the side of the road, tall blades of grass blowing in the cool autumn wind. You let out a sigh as you park the car, turning off the ignition as you see the black Lexus stop behind you.

It takes you a moment to wind down the windows. Your shoulders tensing up when you see the door swinging open before seeing the officer that follows. You lean back in the seat before reaching for the top left button. Pressing down, the sound of the glass further antagonizes your migraine before feeling the shadow cast over you. You nearly jump out of your seat when you open your eyes. You clutch your chest, heart racing at the brute of a man— police officer— standing before you.

You have to crane your head to get a good look at his face— dark hair that tickles his eyebrows, green eyes that glare down at you, and a scar on the left corner of his lips that frowns at you. His uniform holds him snuggly. Too snug, you’d say. Your eyes traverse his body at how he holds his vest, thumbs underneath as his four digits patter on top. He smirks as if he knows the effect he has on people, tilting his head as his eyebrows rise. “You’re well aware why I’m pulling you over, right?”

Your typical brazen attitude dilutes. Instead, meekly nodding your head as you let out a “yeah.”

“Can I see your license and registration?” He cuts right to the chase, taking out a small device as you fish for your purse. You grimace, reaching for your hand bag as it’s right there. However, you’re stalling and the officer can blatantly see that. “You stalling won’t make the ticket go away.”

Dropping the accessory, you fall in your seat, looking up at the officer sheepishly. You couldn’t afford to pay a five hundred dollar ticket. Actually, you could. You could fish into your savings and pay it off no deal, but you didn’t want to. “Is there any way I can not get a ticket?”

He stops tapping on the device, raising a judgemental eyebrow at you before snorting. “You can dispute it in court, but I doubt you’d win.”

You roll your eyes at the snarky comment before an epiphany courses through your body. You wind down your window even further at the possible prospects set in order as cross your arms and rest your chin down. Your eyes sparkle as you peer upwards, reading the name and badge number off of his ID. “There’s… nothing I could do to stop you from writing that ticket, Officer Fushiguro?”

“And risk my job?” Toji scoffs. “I don’t think so.”

He starts tapping away, but with a daring hand, your fingers prod at his belt. Right at the buckle before your index finger goes lower, so dangerously close to reaching for his clothed crotch. “My job has a few positions open. I can put in a good word.”

And who was he to deny a pretty thing like you, even if you offered out of your own selfishness, the cop deserved a little treat for himself. Setting down the tablet with one hand, he goes to switch off his body cam with the next. There’s a high probability that he’d get caught for this when the body cam footage gets reviewed. And, there’s a high probability of him getting suspended or fired over it, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d have to relocate to another police department for his misconduct, and he’s sure the next one would look past the sexual mishap and hire him. It always works out in his favor.

The street is still bare and if this was kept as discreet as possible, none of the onlookers could tell what was happening. It gives Toji the go ahead when he unravels the holster, letting it hang over your door before he’s loosening the belt. He doesn’t drop his pants, only undoing the zipper enough to reveal the dark boxer briefs that do nothing to hide his heavy print. He palms at his growing erection through the fabric before pulling out his length through the opening. “Let’s put that pretty mouth to good use, yeah?”

Your eyes widen, wanting to bulge out of the sockets at the size of him. Immense length and girth that it hangs instead of stands. His mushroom tip starts leaking of translucent precum as he holds it up through the car window, resting one hand on the roof of your car as he looks down at you. He smears his pre, making the head glisten under the setting sun as he bucks his hips forward. He doesn’t have to say a word, nodding his head for you to open your mouth.

Toji’s been trying to be a better man. To hold himself to standards and do what needs to be done to make a decent living. However, vixens like you always find themselves in his pathway, a blatant trick that he always finds himself falling for. There’s hesitation in your movement, your mouth opening up a mere inch as you shuffle forward. You keep him waiting and wanting for the taste of your touch, making him impatient that his hand reaches inside to pull at your hair. Done nicely in a ponytail, it’s quickly wrecked by the strong grip of his hand forcing you closer to him. The tip of his length kisses your mouth, beckoning you to open up and invite him in just as you promised.

This isn’t the first time he’s gotten a woman like this, talking a big game before they truly know what they’re dealing with. It makes him chuckle as he tilts his head, the right corner of his lip curving upward in a knowing grin as the sound reverberates from his chest. “What? You want that ticket after all?”

The threat of having to pay off that hefty fine is what helps you muster up the courage, pretty beady eyes that look up at him as you shake your head, no. “Don’t be stupid.”

Finally, you bring a hand to wrap around his length, your hands nowhere big enough to wrap around his impressive girth as you fix yourself in the car. Your free hand goes to unbuckle yourself as you hoist yourself to your knees. The leather seats already bring you pain as the joints dig into them, sticking your head out of the window to get in a better position. You squeeze your hand around the base, feeling the warmth of him before your fingers trickle down to grope at his balls through the uniform. They’re heavy and fat, you can feel. As you peer up at Officer Fushiguro, you can see how he clenches his jaw, not wanting to admit how the taunting action makes him feel as he still grips onto the roof of your car.

The street’s gotten busier and the sky is darker, but still, no one can tell what’s happening as they zoom past. To them, it looks like a regular stop for a speeding ticket and he hopes to continue making it appear that way. He wants to tell you to get on with it, but your hands glide to grip his cock once more and wrap around the length. Smooth, tandem strokes as saliva pools in your mouth, making it build up before the wad lads straight to his length. You stroke his length, pumping him as he continues to grow harder in your hold. You’re no longer looking at his face, eyes solely focused on the task at hand as your mouth opens just a few centimeters. You feel the vein that runs down the underside of his shaft, rubbing your thumb against it and causing him to twitch in your hold.

You’ve managed to make him feel like he’s in your possession, like you have the say so instead of the other way around. And fuck, does it feel good to let loose. He lets out a low growl that vibrates from deep within as his shoulders fall, releasing all tension within himself. He loosens the hold on your head, but his hand never disappears completely from its place around the elastic band. He starts to wonder if this is some sort of ploy of yours to get yourself out of speeding tickets, and if he’s just one of your victims. If so, why should he care so much if he’s already fallen into your trap and under your spell?

That migraine of yours seems to go away just by the small tug, the officer loosening the tension of the tight updo as you continue to jerk him off. The wetness of his precum mixed with your saliva makes his cock look like a porcelain prize, calling you over to finally fit him inside your mouth. Your hips shimmy as you take another inch out of the window, the meet of your chest and breasts pressing into the door window. You roll your neck before licking your lips, your pretty pupils finally looking up at him. He could’ve sworn there was a ghost of a smile on your lips, but as quick as it came, it’s gone in the flash of a mere second.

A pebbled kiss against the urethra, your tongue pokes at it nimbly. The taste of salt against your tongue is diluted as your mouth widens. Your mouth wraps around the head of his cock in a greed as it hollows out almost immediately. Toji grits his teeth, still keeping his composure against the car. A line starts to form at the traffic light as the night grows closer and passers-by start to dig their nose into the officer, eyes trying to see past through the tint before the light turns green again. Unfortunately, Officer Fushiguro couldn’t care less anymore about the stance of his position as a policeman, so absorbed with just the simple action of getting his dick sucked to worry about the consequences.

You hum around his length, letting out a breath through your nose as you run your tongue down the shaft. The soft and thin veil of skin that moves with the push and pull of your wet muscle before your tongue flattens out to feel the hardness of his cock. You salivate, your mouth watering as the stench of sweat and pheromones mix into your senses, the smell bringing you into a haze as you try inching closer. You take more of him, feeling the way his length dips further inside, reaching for your uvula as you subconsciously start tearing up. You restrain yourself from gagging, the corner of your lips starting to drip with spit, sliding down your face.

You forced yourself to take majority of him in before your reflexes started to finally acting up, a stream of tears already coming to follow. Toji hissed, pulling at the ponytail to tilt your head upward. “Take it easy, doll.”

Such simple words to set yourself at ease, but simultaneously turn you on. Arousal pools into the cotton of your underwear, creating a dark patch as you nod. You bring your hand to hold around the base, pulling yourself off his length to catch a breath. And fuck, do you look so pretty like this. All teary-eyed and ruined in a matter of a couple of minutes. He loved to watch them all struggle to take his length, no matter the hole, but it was just something about ruining their mouth that always kept him going. Just seeing how messed up their faces could get when they struggled. It was an intoxicating experience.

The cold air hits his length, making Toji inhale deeply before you’re on your second attempt. This time, you take him in gradually, bringing him in inch by inch and slowly bobbing your head. What you couldn’t get to fit, you twisted your fist around instead, pumping his cock inside of you as he started to groan and grunt. The police officer admires you from up above, cursing under his breath. “Atta girl. You’ve got it now.”

You can taste more of his salted pre, loving the way he reacts to you. Your cheeks hollow out as you make eye contact. You mewl as you grow more confidence to try and take more in once again. You push yourself deeper, letting his tip graze the back of your throat before forcing in more. You let yourself gag before pulling away, repeating it a couple of times. Your saliva bubbles, dripping down your chin and out onto the solid concrete. His grip on your hair tightens, but he never forces you down, just seemingly overwhelmed by pleasure. The dark blue sky kisses his skin finally as the moon fully peaks out from the dark clouds, the street lamps flickering on as the flashing headlights of speeding vehicles zoom past.

This feels like a wet dream he never wants to escape as the wet sounds of you fucking your mouth on his cock gets muted by the sound of the night life. Oh, how he’d love to hear them alongside his deep moans. He was so expectant of you to disappoint, so ready to still write you up for a ticket in your failure. However, you swirl your tongue over his tip as he can feel that curdle in his stomach. You switch from tantalizing swirls to bobbing your head up and down, looking so pleased with yourself for making the officer on duty fall apart.

“Fuuuck,” he drawls. There’s no alert of his approaching orgasm, simply shooting thick ropes into your mouth that you nearly choke on his seed. It’s so copious as you come to sing out high-pitched mewls. However, you’re still a relentless slut, continuing your sexual administrations on his length as his cum drips from the corners of your lips as well. He bucks his hips into you, eyes shutting as his sensitive head feels wrecked. You finally pull back, letting what’s left of his cum pool underneath your tongue before spitting it right out and letting it drip down his length. You jerk him off with quick thrusts of your hand, watching the way his hips stutter ever so slightly as he still tries to keep himself together. It seems useless with a woman like you as suck and guzzle at his tip. This second orgasm was quicker to approach than the first one, his sensitive urethra spurting out a thinner veil of cum. With brute strength, his grip on your head only tightens as he forces you down on his cock, making his head kiss the back of your throat to empty himself inside of you.

He could tell you’re the type of gal to go at it all night if you could, pulling you off of his length with a muted pop as he looks down at your face. You look so much prettier like this. Makeup all ruined as you’re all teary-eyed and a mess. He’s a man true to his word, no longer going to write you a ticket. However, he didn’t want to waste this opportunity, wanting a taste of that pussy. Is it as good as your mouth is?

When he catches his breath, his chest rising and falling, through his hooded hazel eyes, his grins sinisterly. “I dunno. I think I’mma still have t’write up that ticket, ma’am.”

Your eyes widen as your chest heaves. “Wha—”

Inside, he reaches to unlock your door, pulling the handle open before forcing you to lean back. “I think your pussy will certainly do the trick.”

🕷. @r0ckst4rjk @kasukuna @pixelcafe-network

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #toji fushiguro #ᯓ★ standalone.#x reader #tw: (n)sfw

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fairlyang · 3 months ago

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thinking of stranger!miguel accidentally catching pornstar!reader masturbating in her car

you had been meaning to film this type of video for a long while now but never able to get one of your sex worker friends to help you be a stranger that helps you out due to different schedules.

alas you decided to do it and risk an actual person finding you and secretly hoping that they do help you.

your camera was already set and rolling with you in the driver's seat, right leg over the center console and right hand rubbing your clit. you were looking right at the camera as you moaned and played with your tits with your other hand.

the dress you were wearing was above your stomach and you teasingly would bring the fabric from your tits down, just to barely see your nipples only to leave it as is.

you could feel a slight breeze since you left the tinted window a bit down in case any perv had the urge to take a peek inside. you were already playing for a good ten minutes, edging yourself just praying someone would not only walk by but also help.

a couple people have walked past, not seeing or hearing you but it did bring some excitement as you watched them. you were starting to grow impatient so maybe it’d be a shorter video for the channel.

meanwhile, miguel was coming back from taking a jog at his usual trail and was on his way back home. he did more than usual so he just walked back when he suddenly walked past a car and heard a moan.

he stopped in his tracks and couldn’t help but look into the small opening just to see you fingering yourself with your eyes closed. his eyes were wide and he couldn’t believe the sight.

this was something straight out of a porno and although you didn’t see him, the camera sure did.

his head was out of frame and the black wife beater was stuck to his skin. his arms were out and that was all the camera would be able to see of him.

his breath shortened and he gulped, absolutely shocked he’d be able to witness something so dirty but also hot. and by a gorgeous girl too?

he’d have to get a lottery ticket after this.

he straightened up and thought of what he should do. realistically he knew what he wanted to do but he was a complete stranger, maybe it was too much.

…

but then again there wouldn’t be another opportunity like this.

he watched you for a few more seconds, admiring the way your tits bounced while you fucked yourself harder. finally he made his move. he cleared his throat and lightly tapped on the window making you gasp and turn your head to the left to see a handsome man looking at you.

hopefully it was your lucky day.

“are you alright?” he asks and you quickly nod, “i am now..”

his cheeks grow warm and he’s not sure what to do next. you give him a smile and decide to go for it, “i’m filming a video and was hoping i’d get lucky enough to get some help…”

“do you wanna help me?” you ask, looking directly into his eyes as he just nods.

you pushed the button and made the window go all the way down then reach for his right arm. he reaches inside, getting as close to your car while you guide his hand to your tits. you pulled the top of the dress down, exposing your tits to him then made him touch them.

he squeezed the right one first making you moan because another persons hand would always be better than your own. he went to the other one and squeezed your nipple gently, you spread your legs a bit more just so he could have enough space.

he was too busy groping your tits to notice, at least that was until you pulled his arm up to your face. you grabbed his wrist and slipped two fingers into your mouth, sucking on them with your eyes boring into his while you made sure they were nice and wet.

you pulled them out with a plop and quickly brought his arm down between your legs and he slipped them inside without hesitation. he moved slowly, giving you time to get use to it while you moaned and held onto his arm to urge him to do more. he took notice and went deeper, your slippery walls entrapping them while he set a fast pace for you.

“oh f-fuck- yes!” you moaned and bucked your hips up. his fingers were much thicker than yours, actually able to stretch you out unlike your own. it was just what you needed.

miguel was watching the way your pussy just took his fingers in, your wetness already dripping down when he’s only just started. what he didn’t know was you’ve been edging and just having a complete stranger do this could make you cum at any second.

you held onto his arm, holding on tightly as he pumped them faster and harder making you a moaning mess for him. he felt his shorts become tighter and he knew he was done for.

“you like that baby?” he murmurs and you quickly nod with a slight pout on your lips.

your brain was already mush, not actually thinking one of your fantasies would come true but happy they did with someone so fine. and the fact that he knew what he was doing was the cherry on top.

“such a dirty girl huh? playing with yourself in public like this?” he murmured and you clenched against his fingers.

you whimpered and laid your head to the side by the seatbelt while he continued, “so fucking wet too, you really wanted this to happen didnt you, baby?”

you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak as you felt a knot form in your stomach. you let go of his arm and brought your right hand to quickly rub your clit, feeling the strong urge to squirt, knowing you should stop but it’d feel so good.

“that’s it baby, such a good girl. gonna cum for me? just gonna cum for a stranger?” he murmured lowly, able to feel you squeeze and just watching your body contort in pleasure.

“fuck- p-please don’t stop-“ you whimpered out and felt your legs start to shake.

“i’ve got you gorgeous, come on give it to me.” he purred and that did it for you.

you cried out as your juices quickly came out of you, he slipped his fingers out and replaced yours on your clit so he could make sure every drop comes out. you whimpered and moaned as he went from rubbing your clit fast while you reached your climax to suddenly slow when nothing else came out.

he stopped and left his hand on your thigh, murmuring sweet praises as you calmed yourself down and closed your legs. you closed your eyes, deciding that if you didn’t look at the disaster then it simply wasn’t there. not only are you too tired to clean it all up, you were in absolute shock that actually happened.

your breathing was steady again and you opened your eyes, turning to look out the window and at him. he really was gorgeous and if you weren’t so beat you’d offer to suck him off in the backseat but you were exhausted.

“thank you, stranger. gonna have to make a rain check on when i can make it up to you…” you say and he chuckles.

he shrugs and gives you a smile, “there’s really no need. can’t deny a pretty girl when she needs help.”

you grinned and shrugged, turning to open your center console, grabbing a business card and then handing it to him, “well if you change your mind…”

he grabbed it and nodding as he put it in his pocket, “i’ll let you know.”

he gave you one final smile before walking the way he was going before he stopped, now having to do the walk of shame with a hard on and wet fingers.

part two

#miguel ohara #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara oneshot #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #spider-man 2099

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merchelsea · 6 months ago

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Hi hi

Can I request a Oscar Piastri sister reader x Lando

Maybe she's older than Oscar by a year and dating Lando, I want it to be angst with fluffy ending cus im a sucker for those 😭 either the reader and lando gets into a fight and they take a break and Oscar ends up being the middle person with a happy ending

Oscar didnt know his sister was dating Lando and she introduces Lando to her family as her bf and oscar's just hurt by how they didnt tell him in advance?? and he starts being petty and ignore them...but it also ends in a happy ending

Idk idk I'm good with any as long as it's angst fluff sorry this is long 😭😭 thank you as welllll <3

family matter — lando norris (+op81)

pairing: lando norris x fem!piastri!reader

summary: you introduced lando to your family, as your boyfriend, and your brother didn’t react as well as you hoped

autor’s note: you guys love a piastri sister x lando story. (well i love writing them so keep the requests coming!

word count: 2k

warnings: angst. sad oscar. swearing.

masterlist | requests

lando stood nervously on the passenger seat, while you drove to the restaurant. he didn’t need to say anything for you to realize how insanely nervous he was.

you told him tonight was the night you would let everyone know what he actually meant to you.

you had been dating for a month and some days, and not telling anyone was crazy, in your perspective. you knew everyone would support you, but you were still a little apprehensive. after all, lando was oscar’s teammate, and you didn’t want to make things at work difficult for neither of them.

it was a good opportunity today because your whole family agreed to go out for dinner after a good home race for oscar. lando got a podium, oscar got fourth place. it was good for the team and for both drivers.

even though there was some controversy.

once you told him, the british immediately panicked. your family loved him, and he was aware, but he couldn’t shake this uneasy feeling.

seeing him so tense, you decided it was better if you drove. you were not completely normal about this either, but you felt this was way easier for you.

as you got closer to the restaurant, you felt like you needed to, at least try to, calm him down.

“they already love you, lan. it’s not like us being together changes their opinion about you.” you looked over at him as you parked the car.

he simply nodded, kissing the back of your hand after holding on to it for a while. you stood in the car a little more.

“you’re right. let’s go.” he finally told you.

you both walked together up to the table. oscar had his back to you, so you hugged him from behind. other members of the family smiled at lando’s figure behind you as you kissed oscar’s cheeks.

“you brought lando?” your mother asked, a smile plastered on her lips as she walked over to hug the british.

“yeah… hm. i wanted to tell you guys, something…” you started, making every one face you except your brother, who you were still holding. “well, me and lando, we are together.” you slowly let go of oscar as he turned around, a serious expression on his face. “as a couple, boyfriend and girlfriend…” someone let out an excited noise and all you could see were smiley faces.

“finally!” your dad said from across the table, coming closer right after and hugging lando in his own way.

the driver was clearly nervous, but way better then before. a soft smile in his lips as he looked over at you.

you looked at oscar, trying to get a reaction out of him and he simply smiled, nodded and whispered a ‘congratulations’ to both of you, before turning around to eat again.

you sort of expected a better reaction from your brother, maybe an excited one, maybe a protective one.

the aussie looked like he didn’t care enough to give it a minute of attention.

maybe it was just because today was supposed to be about him, and you ruined it. maybe he wasn’t so pleased to have lando as a brother-in-law. maybe he was just tired because of the race.

you didn’t give it too much thinking, you moved to his right, sat next to him with lando by your side, and ate. making conversation with everyone around and looking over to lando from time to time, to make sure he was doing okay.

that night, you got home with lando and received an extremely good feedback from your family. they loved norris, and were delighted to have him as a part of the family.

oscar, who didn’t seem to be so pleased, never texted you. you noticed it and found it strange, but once again thought there could be other explanations to it. not just that he abhorred the idea of you two together.

some weeks passed away and you were now on lando’s driver room. sitting on the edge of the couch, caressing his hair.

norris knew you loved formula one more than almost everything, so he made sure to have you there in japan with him, since oscar had already gifted his own passes.

your boyfriend looked over at you with a concerned look.

“hey, baby, have you talked to oscar after we told him we were together?” he asked, playing with the zipper of his race suit.

“i don’t think so.” you stopped to think, and realized you hadn’t indeed talked to him. which was odd, as you were always glued to each other. “i think he’s been pretty busy.”

lando hummed and you looked down at his face. “why?” you asked, he shook his head while looking at you.

“nothing, love. it just looks like he’s avoiding me.” with half-closed eyes, you hummed.

after all, your theory might not be wrong. maybe oscar didn’t like the idea of you and lando as more than friends.

“i’ll try to talk to him, lan.” you bent down to kiss his forehead. “you have free practice in a few minutes, don’t worry about this. it will be okay.”

he sat up and hugged you.

“i love you.” he smiled against your neck.

“i love you too. good luck, baby.” you smiled back, feeling his lips on the sensitive skin. he eventually got up and left the room. you stayed back a little to get his laptop and notebook, for after the fp sessions.

lando had two shitty sessions, finishing 10th in one and 12th in the other. on the other hand, oscar managed to pull some really good laps, finishing 8th and 1st.

your boyfriend got out of the car and looked over at you to let you know he was okay, as that was always a preoccupation, and talked with his mechanics, giving them feedback about the car and what could be improved.

oscar did the same thing, not taking so long because there wasn’t really much that the mechanics could do on his car.

piastri’s feedback after the first free practice helped him realize that the problem was how long he took to brake on the corners. improving that, he made an incredible fp2.

“osc, good job.” you smiled at your brother as he passed by. the aussie simply nodded his head before going into his driver room.

you thought of following him immediately and get things cleared out, but maybe you should just wait for lando. this was about him too, after all.

your family wasn’t here yet, because, except for your father, none of them actually liked formula one. they liked that your brother was brilliant doing it, but they didn’t really know anything or cared about the sport. so they only came for the race. never even qualifying.

your dad watched them from home, not wanting to leave your mother alone with all the hosting responsibilities.

once norris was freed, he walked up to you and held you in his arms.

“you were distracted out there.” you stated. the british let out a frustrated sigh.

“i know… it’s just the oscar situation. he’s one of my closest friends in formula one. i don’t want him to hate me.” you chuclked, pulling the man closer to you.

“he doesn’t hate you.” you commented. “let’s talk to him.” lando’s eyes widened and he pulled back to try and see if you were serious.

“now?” he asked and you nodded, grabbing his hand and pulling him though the garage until you reached oscar’s private room.

hearing a knock on his door, oscar ran to the door.

“hi?” he was confused with your presence. it wasn’t you he was waiting for.

“hey. i think we need to talk.” without asking for permission, you entered and dragged lando inside with you.

“we do, actually.” oscar states, closing the door and leaning against his table. lando took place on top of a balcony and you leaned against that same balcony, standing face to face with your big brother.

no one said anything for some seconds. trying to figure out what was the best way to start this important conversation.

“you guys should’ve told me.” oscar said, looking between the both of you. anyone who knew him could tell how hurt he was. his eyes reflecting it.

“we told you!” you remarked.

“yeah, after what? two months?” he sarcastically pointed out. “next time send me a letter, maybe it would be faster.” you rolled your eyes and lando stood still, understanding oscar’s side perfectly.

“this isn’t about you.” you said, lando touched your back gently, trying to calm you down.

“you are my sister, y/n! do you even know how much i care about this? you are my other half, the person i love the most in this whole entire world!” oscar’s voice rose a little as he spoke. “and lando, you are my friend! you both kept this from me and discarded me in the process. i was informed at the same time that auntie joannah was!”

you felt the urge to laugh at the mention of the old lady’s name, but kept your expression still. a little more saddened now that you were realizing just how big your mistake was.

“oscar…”

“no, y/n. let me finish.” he asked. you simply nodded, and he continued. his arms were crossed in front of his chest now and he had his race suit halfway down. “you have been distancing yourself and i have no idea of why. at first i thought you weren’t okay because of hate or how things were going with tennis, but you don’t seem very preoccupied with that, so i really don’t know.”

he takes a deep breath before speaking again. “i’m sure you had your reasons, but you’re my best friend, y/n, and constantly feeling like you don’t trust me anymore, or don’t consider me as you did before… it hurts.”

sadness embraces you as you listen to your brother. lando caresses your shoulder from behind you.

“maybe i should leave you two to talk, this is family matter.” the british suggests.

“you’re family.” both you and oscar say in unison. lando couldn’t help but feel his heart warm, smiling softly to himself as you think of some way to explain things to oscar.

“you know, i would have been your relationship’s biggest supporter if you had given me the chance.” oscar was the one to talk again, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. you needed to hug him, and so you did.

it was a clumsy hug, but it meant everything to you.

“i never meant to hurt you, osc.” you truthfully told him, feeling his grip tightening around you. “it was supposed to be a surprise…”

“what a fucking great way to do it.”

as you both hugged each other, lando watched from the balcony. he too was scared of losing oscar’s friendship, but he was sure that you would do the right thing, and sort things out.

“i never thought you would see this as a good thing. from the start, you and lando got along really really well, and i never wanted to get in the way of that, but i did not control it.” tears threatened to come out of your eyes at any time.

“when it happened, when we happened, i was terrified… but this was strong, i couldn’t stay away from him even if i tried. it was the kind of love you can not put down… and the idea seemed to be less and less terrifying.” you tried to explain. oscar payed close attention to every word you said, and lando, from the balcony, did the same thing.

it was the first time you opened up to someone other than your own figure in the mirror.

“and then i embraced this. this idea of being his, and then he asked me to be his girlfriend and i could never say no. i love him!”

you turn around to look at lando, who hugged his knees and smiled at you. oscar looked too and immediately realized that norris was the one for you. just by his eyes.

“but i still wasn’t prepared to tell you, because of every single devilish thought in my head. so i kept my distance because i know i wouldn’t be able to lie or hide anything from you. but i never, ever, stopped trusting you or considered you less.” you remarked. “you’re my osc, my big brother, you are my everything, and i’m sorry for not communicating.”

you could see in his eyes how hurt he was, and you hated to think it was all because of you.

“i’m sorry, oscar. i really am.”

“i like to know stuff. and i love you,” he pulls you into a real hug this time, allowing you to breathe freely again.

lando, who was still sat on the balcony, walked over towards you and stood next to you, watching the sibling moment with admiration in his eyes.

it was rare to find such a connection.

when you two pulled apart, lando finally broke his silence.

“hey, osco… i’m sorry too man. we both thought about surprising you, and i may have been a little more guilty than y/n there, because i didn’t want you to hate me for dating your sister.”

oscar smiled at the brit.

“i trust you with her, and i don’t hate you. but if you ever even think about hurting her...” lando nodded knowingly, and they touched hands.

“i would never. i really love her.” oscar pulled your boyfriend into a hug and you stood back, watching the two of them.

“i can see it.” oscar smiled as they pulled back.

lando ran his hand from behind your neck until he reached your shoulder, and pulled you close. he kissed the top of your head.

“i’m family now eh?” lando bragged and oscar rolled his eyes.

“don’t make me regret it.”

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gguk-n · 4 months ago

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if you still take requests would you like to write an oscar x reader where they got to know by a coincident and the reader knows absolutely nothing abt f1 and also not oscar so when he was like I drive for f1 she was like wtf should I do with that information??

She doesn’t like cars

{Reader’s POV}

I met Oscar at a grocery store after I had moved to Monaco. The company I worked at were establishing a new branch here and wanted me to help smooth out the process. Who was I to say no to an opportunity of a life time? But being away from friends and family got very difficult when you enjoy being around people.

I only got the weekend off; so I had to make the best of the situation. I was grabbing milk at the grocery store when another hand grabbed the same carton. I looked at the tall, handsome man next to me; “I grabbed that first” I said. “Sorry” he quietly apologised and moved on. We kept running into each other in different isles and the more I stared at him and his toned thighs I found myself drooling. Well, it’s not everyday an attractive man keeps running into you. So, I did what any rational single woman would do and asked him out. To my surprise, he said yes. I doubt myself too much sometimes, I had thought.

We started going out on dates and spending time together. He was rich and had a pretty decent apartment he owned, from what I gathered. He must make quite a decent amount or he comes from money since he’s constantly away on what I assume are business trips over the weekends every few weeks. Did I ask what he did? No. Did he ask what I did? Not particularly. But I did give him my business card.

We were cuddling on one of these days while Oscar was raking his fingers through my hair; “You always help me feel normal” he whispered. “You make me feel rich” I giggled. “What’s mine’s yours babe” he retorted. “Sure, darling” I muttered. “I’ll be gone over the weekend, again” he said stopping his hand movement. “Again? Don’t you think your boss hates you or something with how much they make you go on trips or maybe they love you” I voiced my concern. Oscar laughed a deep laugh which sent vibrations through my body. “Baby, I know this year’s schedule has been a little more hectic with more races” he lamented. “What races?” I asked. “Formula One races” he replied quizzically. “What’s that?” I asked narrowing my eyes. “You don’t know?” He questioned. “Don’t make me feel stupid for not knowing” I whined.

Oscar sighed before speaking, “so, what you’re saying is all this time you had no clue that I was a Formula One driver?” he asked. “Do you test cars or something. I thought they had dummies for that” I quizzed. Oscar was now sat up an amused expression on his face. “No baby, I drive for McLaren” he explained. “Good for you?” I said slowly, I didn’t want him to feel bad about his job or the fact that I knew nothing about it. But since when did they pay test drivers so much?

Oscar started laughing, “that’s it. Take the weekend off. We’re going to Singapore” he announced. “Not this suddenly” I said. “It’s next week. We’ll fly together. Can’t have my girlfriend not knowing what I do for work” he announced kissing my lips.

My interest was piqued so I ended up googling Formula One. My jaw was on the floor when I realised that Oscar was one of the twenty drivers; he was crème de la crème when it came to motor sport. We’d been dating for a while and I knew nothing about what he did, no wonder he owned a place in Monaco; I couldn’t help but laugh. But in my defence my country isn’t huge on motor sports, so I’m sure Oscar can forgive me.

“You didn’t tell me you won 2 races” I announced after finishing dinner that day. “Oh! Did you google me?” He asked. “Nope, I google formula one and you were on top of the list for the previous race. Then I googled you” I explained. Oscar nodded. I sat down on Oscar’s lap, facing him. “Can’t believe you make so much money and let me pay for our meals” I said shaking my head. “That was one time and you insisted” Oscar explained. “Still” I whined. “Can’t wait to watch you win, people say you are really good” I smirked. “Yeah” he said. “Cocky much.” I laughed. “Maybe you can show me how good you are, now” I winked. “I can show you how good I am in everything” he smirked. “I love you, race winner Oscar Piastri” I said kissing him. “Love the ring of it. Gonna have to win more now” he whispered. “Can’t wait to watch you” I mumbled pulling him in for another kiss

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the-offside-rule · 3 months ago

Text

Lando Norris (McLaren) - The Almost Kiss

Requested: yes

Prompt: Lando is out for the season and catches feeling for his replacement

Warnings: nope

Y/n jolted awake to the buzzing of her phone on the bedside table, the sound pulling her out of a deep sleep. Her hand fumbled for it, and when she finally answered, the grogginess was replaced with confusion. "Hello, Y/n." She mumbled. "Y/n, it’s Andrea. You need to come to the McLaren factory. Immediately." Her heart raced. She wasn’t used to getting calls this early in the morning. What could possibly be happening? Y/n was a reserve driver, sure, but there hadn’t been any news of anything happening to the main drivers. "Yeah, I'll get dressed and be in soon."

Half-dressed, still trying to wake up fully, she rushed to the factory, nerves on edge. By the time she arrived, her mind was racing with possibilities. When she stepped inside, the atmosphere felt tense, and she spotted Zak waiting for her. "Y/n." Zak started as soon as she was within earshot. "What's happening?" Y/n asked as Zak put his arm around her to lead her up towards the meeting rooms. "Lando’s out. He’s had an accident, nothing too serious, but enough to sideline him for the rest of the season." Her eyes widened. "Oh my god, how's that happened?" Zak rubbed his forehead. "He was out last night, partying because of his first win, took a fall, broke his tibia. We’ve had it confirmed that he won’t be able to drive for the rest of the season."

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest. This was it, this was her chance. But the weight of the situation also sank in. Lando was injured, and she was being thrown into one of the biggest opportunities of her career. "We need you to step up." Zak continued, his voice firm but encouraging. "You’ll be taking Lando’s place. Effective immediately." She nodded, adrenaline pumping. This was what she had trained for, but the circumstances made it feel surreal. She was going to be one of McLaren’s main drivers.

The next few days were a whirlwind. Hours in the simulator, endless debriefs, and preparing for her first race as the primary driver. Every evening, Y/n found herself staying late, pushing herself in the simulator, wanting to prove she was ready for the challenge.

One evening, as she was deeply immersed in the simulation, the door to the room creaked open. She glanced up to see Lando standing there in a set of crutches, but a smile on his face. "Aren't you meant to be in a wheelchair for a while?" Y/n asked. "Yeah, but I like walking around on my one leg." He replied. "So you're a cripple then?" Lando laughed as he hobbled over towards the side of the simulator. "Need some help?" He asked casually. Y/n blinked, surprised. "You sure? I know you have to go to rehabilitation training and physio and-" Lando chuckled. "Yeah, well, I’ve got time. And besides, I figured I could help coach you a bit. You know, since I’ve been around for a while." Y/n smiled gratefully. "I’d appreciate that."

For the next few hours, Lando stood in the race engineer box of the simulator, giving tips and feedback, helping her adjust to the intricacies of McLaren’s car. His advice was invaluable, but more than that, it was nice to have him there calm, supportive, and surprisingly humble.

As the weeks passed, they grew closer. Between races and simulator sessions, they began to spend more time together. It started with casual meals in the motorhome, sharing laughs about life on the circuit, and then evenings spent debriefing together. The more time they spent with each other, the more their friendship deepened, and Y/n couldn’t help but notice how easy it was to be around him. It wasn’t long before she found herself in Monaco with him, where he had invited her to move into his place, just to make things easier between races. What had started as a practical arrangement became something much more meaningful. They would cook together, joke around, and occasionally sit in comfortable silence, watching the sunset over the harbor.

One of the first mornings she had spent in her bew apartment, Y/n had barely stirred from her peaceful slumber when a knock echoed through her apartment. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The world outside was only starting to light up as the sun rose over the principality through her blinds. She glanced at her phone. 7:00 AM? Who could that be? Reluctantly, she slid out of bed, tugging a hoodie over her sleep shirt as she padded barefoot toward the door. The knock came again, more insistent this time.

"I'm coming, hold on." She mumbled under her breath, unlocking the door and swinging it open. To her surprise, standing on the other side of the threshold was none other than Lando, looking fresh despite the ungodly hour. He offered her a crooked grin, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. "Lando?" She asked in disbelief, her voice still thick with sleep. "How on earth did you get up here?" He gave a nonchalant shrug, his boyish grin widening. "The lift."

"Obviously." She deadpanned, leaning against the doorframe with a raised eyebrow. "But why? And why are you knocking on my door at-" She glanced at her phone again. "7 AM?" Lando shifted on his feet, looking almost sheepish for a moment. "I have a rehab session and I really don't want to go alone. Thought maybe you'd want to tag along?" His eyes met hers with a hopeful glint. Y/n blinked, processing his request. "You came all the way here just to ask me to go to rehab with you?"

"Well, yeah. Plus, I needed a ride." His grin turned cheeky, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes, though the hint of a smile tugged at her lips. "Lando, you have a whole team of people at your disposal. You could’ve called one of them."

"Yeah, but they're not you." He said with a smirk, and something in his casual tone made her heart skip a beat. "So, you coming or what?" He asked. "What's in it for me?" She challenged, letting him in. "A stop at the cafe du Paris if you get me to physio on time." Y/n sighed, shaking her head in amused disbelief. "Alright, alright. Let me get changed. Give me five minutes." Lando slumped down onto her sofa. "You're the best."

She quickly disappeared back into her room, rifling through her drawers for something more appropriate than her pajamas. As she threw on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, she couldn't help but smile to herself. Lando showing up out of the blue like this wasn’t exactly unusual—it was one of the things she liked about their friendship. He was spontaneous, always keeping her on her toes. Within minutes, Y/n was ready, grabbing her keys and slipping on a pair of sneakers as she met Lando by the door. He was already scrolling through his phone, humming under his breath.

"Let's go." She said, as Lando turned and hobled out the door. "Jesus, mate. You need to get out of these crutches, it's scaring away all the women." She joked. "Chick's dig this." Labdo replied. "I must be immune, Norris." They headed down the hallway and into the lift, Lando still chatting away about his recent races and how his shoulder injury was making training a nightmare. Y/n listened with a fond smile, appreciating how comfortable their conversations always were. It didn’t matter that it was now half 7 in the morning, and she hadn’t had her coffee yet; being around him always had a way of brightening her day. Once they reached the car, she slid into the driver’s seat, glancing over at him. "You sure you're okay with this?"

"Of course." Lando said, buckling in. "It's just rehab. But I appreciate you coming with me." Y/n nodded as she started the engine, pulling out of the parking garage. The early morning streets were quiet, making the drive peaceful. The two of them fell into easy conversation, and before she knew it, they were pulling up to his physios home. Lando turned to her as they parked. "Thanks for this, really. You didn’t have to."

"I know." She replied with a soft smile. "That's what makes me so nice." He returned her smile, lingering for a moment before unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping out of the car. "Oh, the bestest ever." He replied mockingly.

The teasing,the coffees, it was all just part of this great friendship they had going on. Yet, beneath the surface, there was a growing tension. Unspoken feelings hung in the air between them, but neither dared to address it.

One race weekend, however, everything changed. Y/n had been hit with a penalty that she fiercely believed was unjust. After a heated argument with the stewards, she was slapped with a fine, and her frustration boiled over. Storming out of the stewards’ room, she avoided everyone, ignoring the calls from the press. She wasn’t in the mood to talk, let alone deal with interviews. She locked herself in her driver room, letting the anger simmer as she paced the small space. A knock came at the door.

"I'm not doing press today guys!" She shouted, her voice still edged with anger. There was a pause, and then a familiar voice replied. "It’s me." Her heart skipped a beat. It was Lando. Hesitant, she walked over and unlocked the door. He stepped inside, his expression soft, understanding. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly, closing the door behind him. Y/n huffed, her hands running through her hair. "I just… I can’t believe this. That penalty wasn’t fair, and now I have to deal with a fine on top of it." Lando watched her for a moment, then stepped closer. "I get it. I’ve been there before. But you need to calm down, or it’ll just eat at you."

Y/n turned to him, her frustration still evident, but his presence was oddly comforting. There was a silence between them as they stood close, neither knowing what to say next. The tension from the room seemed to shift, no longer about the race or the penalty. They gazed at each other, the air between them thick with something unspoken. Slowly, they leaned in, the distance between them closing. But just before their lips could meet, there was another knock at the door. Y/n jerked back, startled. "Interviews, Y/n. You need to go." Came the voice from the other side of the door. Her heart racing, Y/n glanced at Lando, her mind spinning. Without another word, she bolted for the door, leaving Lando behind.

As she rushed to the media area, her thoughts were a whirlwind. Was Lando in love with her? Did she feel the same way? She couldn’t stop replaying that almost-kiss in her mind. Meanwhile, Lando stayed back in her room, wondering the exact same thing.

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cuteandhughesy · 4 months ago

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I Can Do It With A Broken Heart | Matt Rempe

summary: after a gruelling breakup with you boyfriend, you thought taking the opportunity to teach some nhl players how to figure skate for the nhl youtube channel would be the best distraction. after seeing who your assigned player is though, you're not sure if it'll be as easy as you thought.

17.6+k

a/n: this is fic that mentioned figure skating and bare with me because I know absolutely nothing about it! also the first figure skating dialogue is meant to be read as like a compilation of that makes sense - like it’s not a complete scene just highlights of one. OH and the dialogue of the montage scenes are literally inspired from coach chippy’s tiktok where he learns how to figure skate. clearly that was my inspiration. okay, that’s all, enjoy!

link to playlist

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the streets and busy buildings of new york city flash past you, screaming at you with large signs and bright lights. the taxi stops, stuck in a corner of traffic. you sigh gently, your busy travel day beginning to catch up with you. it's not like you even travelled that far, but any type of travelling always took your energy away. you look away from the bustling streets and rejoin the reality of the taxi cab.

the familiar melodies of taylor swift are gently playing through your wired headphones - wired because you've lost two pairs of airpods and can't afford a third set. instinctively, your eyes find the rearview mirror like you're the one driving, your own exhausted face starting back at you. you frown at yourself, looking away.

your taxi driver is taking, his thin lips moving animatedly expressing as he - oh he's talking you.

you tug your headphones out, abruptly stopping your music. "i'm sorry, what was that?"

"are you from new york? or vacationing?" the driver repeats himself, eyes kind from where he glances at you in the mirror.

"i'm here for work, actually." you tell him, deciding to pack up your phone and headphones for the remainder of the drive, shoving them in your duffle bag.

"ah okay, what do you do for work?"

you knaw on your lip - you've never really known how to answer that question. you're technically a professional figure skater. you went to boston university for skating and competed on the world woman's figure skating team. but that didn't always pay the bills, so you split the rest of your time working reception at a house league arena and teaching figure skating to kids 5-7.

"I teach figure skating," you settle on. the taxi starts to move again, the driver taking a sharp left turn that jolts you sideways in the backseat.

"some kids need your help here?" the driver laughs gently, working the wheel to weave the car through traffic.

you breath a little chuckle, eyeing the traffic. "something like that."

a few weeks ago you had been approached by somebody apart of the social administration team for the national hockey league asking if you'd be interested in a mini youtube series where they had professional skaters come and teach nhl players how to figure skate.

at first you were going to pass on the opportunity. your boyfriend of two years had broken up with you only a week before the nhl reached out to you- claiming he wasn't in love with you anymore and needed a fresh start. you were crushed - and honestly still are. you thought there was no way you'd be able to focus on teaching professional athletes how to arabesque properly all while navigating you're first real breakup.

but after really mulling it over, you decided that it could be the distraction you needed in your healing process. you told them yes and two weeks later you were on the train from boston to new york city - all your stuff packed in your nike duffel bag. it shouldn't be too overwhelming, you think. after all, it wasn't just you that would be teaching, there'd be four other figure skaters there with you. the email wasn't too informative about how it would all work, but it gave you basic information like schedule, times, and the actual idea of what was being filmed.

you'd each be assigned an nhl player from the teams in the surrounding areas, and you'd be responsible for not only teaching them how to figure skate, but creating a brief routine for the nhl youtube channel - then again preformed for one of the local kids hockey teams. as well, all proceeds from the video would be given to the kids - which was obviously amazing.

the taxi pulled up to the sheltered entrance of your hotel, which thankfully the nhl was paying for. after all, this trip wasn't one where you'd be getting commission and were solely here voluntarily - so you appreciate how kind the nhl has been with expenses.

"here you go," your taxi driver turns over his shoulder and gives you a warm smile, "need help with your case?"

you shake your head, "i've got it, thank you." digging through your bag to grab some cash, giving it to the old man before making your exit.

he thanks you politely. "good luck teaching those kids," he says. "I know how hard they can be to get through to."

"oh i'm ready for it."

with that you make your way into the hotel, checking in at the reception desk. the hotel is like ridiculously nice and a bag boy even takes your suitcase from you and preemptively delivers it to the room before you get there.

immediately once you get into your room, you exhale tiredly. you shower quickly, barley getting to admire how stunning the bathroom was because of your lacking levels of energy. you don't even dry your hair before you're getting into bed, setting an alarm before closing your eyes.

your stomach is tickling with nerves as you begin thinking about your day tomorrow - the unknown of it all making you anxious. you just pray your designated nhl player is a good listener, patient and a good partner.

— Day One

"and this is the rink - obviously nothing crazy but it is the rangers practice facility so it's definitely nice," mark, the main personal of the admin team gestures to the stark white rink behind him, an excited smile on his face as he talks to you all.

just the smell of the ice has you smiling, and any lingering feelings of anxiety you were feeling about this week were disappearing. you breathe happily, taking another look around the arena facility.

"look at that ice." beside you, another figure skater gleams, her dark brown eyes transfixed on the sheet in front of you. she had introduced herself earlier as shay, her bubbly personality quickly exposed as she started asking you a million questions excitedly. "I can't wait to tear it up."

you quirk a brow slightly, lips pulling into a smile. "well, i'm not sure how much actual figure skating we'll get to do between teaching."

she groans and you giggle at her dramatics.

"alright, guys so," mark claps his hands together, gathering all figure skaters and media personals attention. "we're going to head back to the meeting room and the players will be arriving shortly - once they get here we will go over the process of partnering up and the schedule."

you enter the meeting room soon after, shay at your side - a spring in her step. as you make your way back to the table you'd earlier left your duffle bag (stuffed full with anything you may need), you can't help but feel eager to learn which players would not only be participating, but which player you would be assigned to.

the skaters take various seats in the room, but mostly stick together - opting for the two oval tables towards the side of the room. demi, a small blonde girl, takes a quick seat beside you, immediately resting her chin on her palm as she leans in. "who do you guys hope is here?" she smirks, her voice quiet as she asks. demi doesn't wait for an answer before she speaks again, "i'm hoping for trevor zegras."

out of the corner of your eye you watch as shay gives an unimpressed look. you fight off the knowing smirk that begins to make its way on to your face - you weren't going to be the one to tell the blond that the chances of zegras coming to new york from the other side of the country was very unlikely.

"i'm hoping for somebody who doesn't mind a challenge," you say gently, "doesn't matter who."

demi just hums uninterested, eyes leaving you and moving over towards the front of the room. just as she does so, mark along with another older gentleman enters the room, the latter of the two holding a stack of papers in a brown folder, the word "CONFIDENTIAL" stamped in bold font on the front.

instantly, you become nervous again. the door reopens a few seconds later, and five men walk into the meeting room, laughing and chatting with one another as they do so. based on the pure build of them, you know they are the nhl players you'd all be teaching. you didn't know too much about hockey, and without them wearing their teams jersey you had no idea who played for who. they all look around the same age, which was likely around yours.

in the middle of the five hockey players stands a very tall man - so tall that immediately you feel nervous. teaching somebody that tall and long limbed to figure skate would be difficult and an extreme learning curve. you can only hope whichever skater gets paired with him is patient (and you hope it's not you or shay). ideally somebody shorter and stocky would be best as they'll have an easier time learning spins and bends.

"alright, now that we are all here," mark starts, taking the stack of papers into his hands. "i'm going to go over the jist of what we're doing." he flips open to the first few pages, scanning it quickly before he starts again. "okay so, here's how it's going to work. James and I have preemptively paired each skater with one of our athletes, which was completely random - rempe don't start." one of the players laughs gently, dismissing marks teasing.

"the next couple days will have a lot of filming, so be prepared for the cameras and for my media crew to be all over you." another round of laughs echo throughout the room, and you smile gently. "to my hockey players, please be kind and respectful with the skaters - there already doing a great deal by coming here to teach you, so don't make it difficult."

James is the one to continue, his deep voice projecting around the room. "any and all proceeds from our tiktok and youtube accounts will be given to the new york rockets little league team. as well, the figure skater and assigned player will be preforming a mini routine for the rockets team before our hockey players will be playing a game with them - understood?"

a murmur of agreements can be heard throughout the meeting room. mark clears his throat, beginning to read off his papers. "shay biles, raise your hand for me," like told, shay happily puts her arm in the air, waving slightly. mark beams, "perfect, okay, john beecher this is your partner."

john waves back gently, nodding his head in greeting from across the room. shay definitely got lucky, you think. john seems kind, his eyes gentle and smile bright as he looks at shay. beecher is a name you've heard living in boston, and your younger brother has definitely screamed his name at the tv while watching the bruins. you feel a bit upset that you hadn't gotten john, at least that way you'd have living in boston to relate to.

one of the girls you hadn't really had a chance to talk with is called out next, and she gets paired with an islanders player. she seemed relatively content with her partnership, her smile wide and eyed slightly shiny as anthony greeted her from across the room- perhaps she was a fan of duclair.

demi is called for next. the blonde grins smugly, waving her fingers in a way that seems very amorous. "dawson mercer this is your figure skating partner." the nhl star in question raises his hand from between his crossed arms in greeting, giving the bright blonde one quick wave.

you swear you can hear demi mumble something to you about dawson being 'kinda cute', which makes you feel a bit awkward - you don't know is demi wants you to respond or just stay quiet and nonchalant. shay seems to of heard demi's comment, and she nudges you side gently. shay's smile is barley noticeable, but you see it, and you have to hide you face.

"okay, y/n y/l/n..." mark calls your name and your stomach swoops. the reality of the situation all feels a bit daunting - reminding you of when a teacher would randomly call on you in primary school. your hand moves upwards, your elbow still resting on the table top as you wave gently. mark smiles triumphantly, "ah wonderful - okay matt rempe this is your partner."

it feels like the room goes silent, the constant mumbling and laughter from the table of nhl players comes to a halt. nervous and confused, you eye them all, waiting with anticipation for matt rempe to make himself known - although based on the pause of commotion in the meeting room, it seems like everybody but you is already acquainted with him.

just then, the tallest one that had caught your eye earlier leans forward. you can feel your stomach come up your throat before quickly dropping down to your feet. matt's lips tug up in a slinky smile, jerking his head once in greeting. you can't believe your luck. of course you'd get paired with the borderline giant guy - you can't even begin to fathom how much taller he'll be on skates. you're not too sure yet how you're going to teach him to figure skate gracefully, especially when it comes to spins and gliding - both of those naturally being more difficult to do when you're taller.

you look away. the combination of matt's confident greeting and your own personal turmoil about his height all too much. you swallow nervously, fuck.

you can already tell from the way matt carries himself and how his co-workers act around him that he is the kind of guy who's very...vainglorious. that had you feeling even more timid about teaching him - still dealing with the affects of your heartbreak and learning how to handle everything on top of that was a very different feeling.

and just as the cherry on top, demi leans closer to you from across the table, her voice a quiet, teasing hum as she talks out of the side of her mouth. "lucky duck - you got the hottest one."

double fuck.

soon after the mini breakdown in your head - all figure skaters, hockey players and media personnel were directed back down to the ice level of the rink. the former two groups quickly getting ushered towards the dressing rooms of the practice facility to change into appropriate clothes for skating.

thankfully all the other skaters opted for a more toned down, casual figure skating attire, so you don't feel out of place in your flare leggings, leotard and align zip up. shay looks like she's wearing something similar to you, smiling at you warmly before leaving. so that anxiety slowly settles down.

shakily, you pull your hair into a ponytail, tugging to ensure it's tight and in place. you take a slow breath, preparing yourself for the day ahead of you. slipping on your skates, you've already decided you're not going to let any hockey player change your self-healing journey - the main reason you accept the offer was to heal. you breathe a smile, tightening your skates.

as you approach the ice, you take a momentary pause - observing the scene infront of you. most of the other skaters were enthusiastically chatting with their assigned nhl players, laughing and smiling as they stretched. the atmosphere around you was filled with anticipation and excitement, which had you stomach buzzing.

you step onto the sheet of ice, your eyes darting throughout the sea of skaters and media team. there's more people and camera crew than you were originally expecting, with a good chunk of the arena filled with professional filming cameras, wires, and photographers. with a push forward, you begin to make your way into the crowd, weaving through the chaos in search of matt rempe.

you've heard talk about the name matt rempe - living in a hockey based household with your brother and dad, his name was bound to come up. unfortunately, the talk you've heard hasn't been all sunshine and flowers. matt has made a name for himself in the nhl by fighting - which obviously wouldn't be a problem with your teaching because hopefully he doesn't want to fight you. that as well as his flirtatious personality though has you still feeling a bit worried.

you still haven't caught sight of him yet, which seems odd considering his towering frame. you're definitely not the shortest of all the figure skaters by any means, but you definitely have a smaller stature in compared to your partner and some of the others crowded towards the one side of the rink.

you push forward as you glance over your shoulder - eyeing behind yourself to try and catch sight of matt. you come to a halted stop, your body being held still.

"whoa," a voice breaths with laughter above you, large hands finding your shoulders to stop your movement. "gotta watch where you're going- just saved you from tripping over a pile of wires."

you jerk your head up, finding the soft but teasing brown eyes of matt rempe staring down at you. "matt!" you exclaim loudly. he raises his brows with amused suprise, which immediately has you flushing with embarrassment - you curse yourself for your uncool exterior. "hi! matt. sorry, I'm your skater, my names-"

"y/n," matt says your name - tone a combination of gentle and amusement, your clear borderline frantic state fresh on his mind. he releases the gentle grip on your shoulders in favour of dropping his hands back down against his side. "I remember."

"right, sorry." you laugh gentle, hands nervously fiddling with the zipper of your jacket - a bad habit you'd always had has been fiddling with your clothes as a distraction. you think it's because it helps focus your energy on something else - negative or positive. during your breakup, you think you destroyed two separate strings of hoodies.

you clear your throat, dropping your hands. "have you ever figure skated before?" instantly you regret your awkward question - and you try not to cringe at yourself. you can only hope you don't come across...unintelligent or discombobulated. the chances of a hockey player participating in this sequence of figure skating related events/ filming of he knew how was very unlikely.

matt looks himself up and down before eyeing your through his lashes, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "I definitely have not."

you chuckle awkwardly, ringing your hands. "right, of course not. you probably would've turned down all this figure skating stuff if you knew how. after all why would you willingly volunteer to get bossed around and be taught something you already knew how to do! sorry, I feel like i'm rambling."

"you apologize a lot." matt laughs, eyes glimmering with charm in the arena lighting above. "you don't need to."

"sorry-" matt's brows raise, immediately cutting you off from another apology. "im not going to finish that."

matt smiles fondly.

just then, somebody approaches you both. he looks maybe 2 or 3 years older than you, with dark hair and standing around 6 feet tall. he's got a phone clutched in his hand, and a media lanyard around his neck. "hey," he smiles when he approaches, "i'm david. i'm apart of the social admin team for the nhl and i'll be filming you guys for the tiktok content - which will be today."

you shake his hand gently, "y/n, nice to meet you." matt follows suit, shaking david's hand in greeting. david briefly discuss the filming process with you and matt, and tells you what to expect with the cameras while you're teaching. david’s instructions, although speedy, make you feel more confident in the day - finally having a clear rundown of the process lifting a weight of your shoulders.

david directs you both towards the benches where some of the other partners are stood - waiting their turns in front of the camera. some groups are with their own social media team, filming for instagram and tiktok accounts. the lighting is dimmed on your half of the rink, providing the filming side with correct studio lighting. there's a small dunkin coffee station set up right by the bench entrance, filled with multiple coffee flavours, takeaway cups, creamers, sugar and even a box of donut holes.

you grab yourself a large paper cup, filling it to the brim with decaf. you don't even bother grabbing cream or sugar - taking three hearty gulps of coffee in hopes to get some hyperactive energy.

lowering the cup from your face, you catch sight of somebody as they skate up beside you. you glance over, just to see matt grab one of the cake flavoured deserts and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. he catches your gaze, and he smiles - mouth full of donut and all.

your brows raise in surprise, his clear comfortability almost has you feeling envious - for his sakes you're trying your best to lighten up and he just is already. you clear your throat twice, "need some coffee to wash all that down?"

matt eyes your cup and he almost makes a face. he swallows heavily, shaking his head. "i'm good - takes more than tiny donut hole to take me down."

you nod with understanding, an amused smile pulling at your mouth - you raise your cup, taking a sip to mask your enjoyment.

matt indulges in one more donut, dusting his hands free of any icing against the front of his rangers jersey. you cringe momentarily, resisting the urge to reach out and wipe away any remnants. "so," matt starts, finishing the last few chews of the donut, "how long have you seen skating?"

"my whole life," you tell him, happily taking another sip of your drink. "my mom was a figure skater so as soon as I could walk she put me in lessons," you continue, "which obviously seems a little controlling - but i'm glad she did...the opportunities i've had and the memories i've made are just unbelievable."

you pause and take a moment to think about your figure skating journey and just how thankful you are being put in lessons that young - you're not sure where you'd be without skating. you lost your mom when you were 15 - only 8 years ago. figure skating was always a way to stay connected to her and her memories. seeing your dad's blissful face when he watches you compete is always so fulfilling.

matt nods almost solemnly, as if he knows what you were thinking off. he shifts so his entire body is turned towards you, giving you his full attention. "that's actually pretty amazing - where do you compete?"

"i've gone to worlds a handful of times, which is just crazy at my age." you laugh in disbelief just at the thought. first time you went to worlds was when you were 16 years old, and a two more times when you were 17 and 18. you were one of the youngest competitors at being freshly 16 - only two girls from japan and canada being the same age.

matt's brows furrow, "how old are you know?"

"23 right now," you answer, "but I started competitively training when I was 12 and went to the first championship series when I was 16."

"holy crap," he laughs, nodding his head impressed - lips quirked in a half smile. "do you still train competitively? is all this your full time job?"

after another drink of your coffee, you sigh with ponder. "honestly - no. I still work in figure skating - teaching kids in my free time at the arena back home - hence why i'm here. it's just...." you trail off, brows furrowed as you try and find the right words. competing at the levels you used to was a lot. the diet was extremely strict, the training was intense and your mental and physical health was not good. you love skating and you'll always continue to teach it, but actually competing is something you'd never subject your body to again.

"too much." matt nods in understanding, answering for you.

you smile in conformation, "too much." you can tell by matt's sad and understanding smile that he knows exactly the strain and intensity you'd dealt with - he is an athlete after all. you clear your throat, "but i'm excited to be here though, I promise."

he dissolves into laughter, shoulders shaking. "don't worry, I didn't think you weren't."

you breath in relief, your moment of silent worry that matt would think you weren't grateful for the opportunity you were in slipping away. "so how come you decided to do this?" you ask curiously, topping up your coffee cup with more decaf. it overfills, sloshing over the rim as you look at him. silently, you curse, releasing the latch to stop the liquid from pouring out.

matt smiles fondly as you switch hands, moving your cup out of your wet hand. thankfully, it's not scorching so you're not burnt but you're wet and a little embarrassed. you're trying to shake the liquid off your hand when matt wordlessly grabs a napkin out of the stack on the table, gently grabbing your wrist as he pats your skin with it.

you swallow gently, watching him clean the coffee off your hand. matt doesn't seemed fazed, eyes focused on your sticky skin as he answers your question. "honestly, I don't think I was their first choice - they asked Schneider first but he declined. i'm glad they asked me next though, because i'm always looking to try new things." your hand is dry now, and matt balls the napkin up before throwing it into the trash can. he smiles, "and figure skating is on skates right, so I mean i've already got that part down."

in a moment of vulnerability, you spin back to properly face him. you go to speak, "can I be honest with you?"

he nods.

you continue, "tall people and figure skating don't always go hand in hand- when you're tall things like twizzles and jumps and flexibility don't come as easy. so when I first saw you I remember thinking I felt bad for your partner," you laugh once, "and then once I found out that you were my partner I got really nervous. I just...," you pause, sighing, "I don't want you to feel like you can't do it properly or as well as some of the shorter players or feel upset because I can't show you everything- i'm rambling again, sorry I-"

"y/n," he hums playfully, "the only thing i'll be upset about is if you keep apologizing for no reason." he spins on his skates so that his back is towards the coffee table, his side bumping into your front teasingly. he rests against the edge, hands gripping the table to keep himself steady.

you breath a laugh, mimicking his position. your arms brush together, and you belly sort off...wobbles. "I know, I know - I just want this to be good."

"it will be," matt smiles triumphantly.

david comes shuffling over again, now with a mini ring light attached to the media branded cellphone. he beams, coming to a shaky stop. he gestures to his phone, "i've got to get you two for a tiktok before the youtube crew takes you." david then goes into what you need to say and maneuvers you both to a more aesthetically appealing background.

you begin, smiling brightly at the camera and praying your eyes aren't squinty with the bright light. "hi tiktok i'm y/n and ill be teaching new york ranger, matt rempe, how to figure skate this week."

"stay tuned for exclusive content and behind the scenes on the new york rangers tiktok and instagram page - as well for the full videos on youtube." matt concludes, looking down at you briefly.

"great - that's amazing guys! i'll catch up with you both later." then david scoots away, back towards the exit off the rink where some media tables are set up - full of equipment, passes and extra water bottles and snacks.

next thing you know you and matt are both being ushered in front of the cameras for your segment of todays filming. like david, one of the directors - a middle aged blonde woman with a encouraging voice - tells you how to start and what to say. she ensures you if either of you need a break and/or further instructions to not hesitate to stop and ask.

with that being said, matt begins to video off. he stands tall, large arms held behind his back as he stands perfectly on the mark. "I'm matt rempe from the new york rangers and today I'm learning how to figure skate," matt smiles with exaggerated nervousness, eyeing you.

you giggle quietly, "and i'm professional figure skater, y/n y/l/n and today i'll be teaching matt the basics of figure skating - starting off easy for ole matt."

his arms come loose, and he holds his hands up in a surrender like position, turning towards you. "okay if im being honest I think i'll get the hang of this pretty easily," matt admits confidently.

smirking, you eye him, "let's see." you push off, skating away gracefully, spinning back around to face your partner. "ready for your first set of moves?"

"born ready."

you finishing off one of the quicker spins, making your final turn before gracefully skating out of the motion - demonstrating for matt.

his brows raise in shock, eyes slowly meeting the camera. staring down the lens. he shrugs doubtfully, cracking his neck in preparation. "my turn."

matt tries to recreate the spin, slowly and wobbly twizzling around the ice. it's definitely not perfect as he can't seem to stay in the same area and he only makes it around four full times before beginning to slip out. "that's crazy." he laughs in disbelief. "show me again."

"just-" you sigh with a smile, getting back into position to twizzle around once again. "like that."

matt tries again, and although his second attempt was more more successful, he was still a bit unstable with his movements. the tall athlete comes to a wobbly stop, brown eyes closing in discomfort. you know that face all too well and immediately you know he hasn't spotted - which is your own fault for not teaching him. "i'm dizzy,"matt puts his hands on his knees, leaning over to try and ground himself. "I don't even know how you do that."

once he's no longer feeling nauseous, you quickly teach him the importance of knowing how to spot.

matt's hands are heavy in yours, his grip tightening to mimick your hold as you both attempt another jump - granted it's a bit difficult considering his height. regardless, it's successful and he lands pretty much perfectly.

you encourage him further as you both skate, praises happily spilling from your mouth as you him skate gracefully - well, as graceful as somebody that tall can. you slow ever so slightly, tightening your grip again to signal for another jump.

matt's tongue pokes out and his brows furrow with concentration. he pushes off the ice like you showed him, jumping into the air. he lands again, a warm laugh leaving him. "oh my god!"

"great!," you beam, bringing you both to a slow stop. then you tell matt that he has to attempt jumping on his own and his once smile is quickly flipped.

"okay matt we gotta dip," you hum knowingly, already sensing his disappointment - matt's earlier distain towards low level figure skating moves ringing in your head. "dig real low."

like suspected, matt groans - it's not that he doesn't want to try and do the move because he knows that's why he's here and he wants to make your experience pleasant. he's groaning because he knows how him trying will end.

matt's first dip down to the ice is successful, and you gleam, gliding along beside him. "look at how low you are!"

matt continues to slide along the ice, one of his long legs extended in front of him. he's practically holding his breath, concentrating on making another successful dip down. it isn't much longer before he slips, landing roughly on his back.

matt groans in displeasure, his arms falling dramatically as he rolls on the ice. the sight of the tall man laying on the ice like a child has you laughing into your palm, eyeing him gently.

he pushes back onto his knees before standing to his full height, brows furrowed. "are you laughing at me?" matt questions you, his own laugh slipping out between his uncomfortable groans - the wind just about knocked out of him from the fall.

your hands fall from your face, raising in surrender. "i'm not even laughing cause it's funny. it's just like-"

"I was digging for you." matt claims cheekily - referring to your earlier comment about matt needing to dig deeper into figure skating. "I wanted to go low for you." he's gently rubbing his elbow, a grimace still on his face.

"I know. you were actually very low I was impressed."

you expertly lean into your spin, bending your back to complete the movement.

matt squints unsure. "i'm having a hard time committing to that right now."

you move forwards, quickly stopping your skates as you swing your body from side to side - skate blades tearing into the ice in a jerk like motion.

matt watches you closely from where he takes a momentary break against the boards. "oh so we are doing slow mo now?"

"yup." you chirp, rounding back towards him.

"fuck me," he huffs out, pushing off the wall. they'll definitely have to bleep that out.

your back is practically pressed into matt's chest, breathing gently as you push your bodies together. "give me your other hand," you remind him gently. "goes on the hip."

like told, matt's large hand rounds in to the dip of your hip, securely holding onto your body in preparation for a glide. against your other hand, his fingers flex slightly, fixing his grasp.

"okay and you're going to push off the ice."

"okay," he mumbles from above the top of your head. he goes to push off the ice, but from pure instinct he kicks off too strongly and too quickly - his legs wobbling as he practically launches you both. matt curses, toe picking to a stop.

"woah," he breaths a laugh. "not smooth, eh? let's redo that."

you laugh gently, and you pull him back into proper position. "you got it, just focus on the journey rather than the destination."

"I can't concentrate when you're looking at me like that." matt says, a small teasing smirk following as you both get ready to glide again.

"oh my god." you mumble.

matt's breathless, hands on his hips as he collects himself after trying to do more practice on his solo jumps. he looks dead at you, lips tugging up into a smirk, panting as he tries to collect himself. "we don't need to do any triples axels today."

you giggle through your own breathlessness, sympathetically patting his padded shoulder. "you've worked hard enough."

"i'll do a triple axel probably next session." he jokes, shrugging nonchalantly. you scoff, pushing against his shoulder teasingly.

"i'm sweating," matt huffs.

"why are you standing like that?" you laugh, pausing your demonstration to skate over towards matt.

"what do you mean? that's just how I stand." it's definitely not how he stands - and he's looking rather uncomfortable as he attempts to balance on his toes, his knees bent.

you can only laugh in disbelief. in an attempt to fix his awkward posture, you push against his chest with one hand, trying to angle him backwards while your other hand attempts to keep his lower back in proper position. "you're ridiculous - you look like jason kelce ready to catch a football."

"I think my hips are too far forward," matt hums thoughtfully, teetering uncomfortably.

"yeah?" you question.

"yeah," he nods with confirmation, swishing his hips around in a circular motion - trying to loosen his muscles. "they're too tight - everything's too tight." he sends an exaggerated wink in your direction, trying to further us attempt at a dirty innuendo.

you splutter, heat rising to your face. "stop it."

finally after a tiring and eventful couple hours, you and matt are done skating and filming for the day. it's only a couple minutes of an interview like questionare on the other end of the ice - away from jamie drysdale as his figure skater begins to go over turns before you get to get changed.

you're exhausted by the time you're walking out of the change room - swapping your athletic zip up for an oversized hoodie and figure skates for your slip ons. you let your ponytail down, fluffing the kinks from your hair as you begin to make your way down the hallway towards the parking garage entrance.

thankfully, yesterday when you arrived you had an email from the nhl informing you that your rental car, courtesy of the nhl, had arrived to your hotel and the keys were with reception. you're very thankful, because spending all your money on taxis wouldn't be ideal.

you’re right at the car, your finger already placed against the unlock button on the rented key fob when someone calls your name, the familiar voice echoing through the concrete parking garage.

matt comes up beside you just as you turn around - a friendly grin on his lively face.

you smile politely. "hey."

he breaths a greeting, "hi." matt doesn't say anything else - only continuing to look down at you gently, an unknown expression along side his gaze.

your brows come together with amused confusion, your lips changing into a slight smirk. "everything okay?" you ask, leaning back against your car door.

he blinks out of his stare, shaking his head slightly. "yeah, sorry. just wanted to thank you for today - you're really patient and like super chill. i'm looking forward to tomorrow and working with you further - god knows I didn't make it the easiest task."

"oh," you breathe, "thanks, matt that's really kind of you to say. you're great at this, don't worry."

he laughs softly, "thanks - still not sure about those spins though."

you giggle gently, the thought of matt's green complexion and woozy eyes still fresh in your mind. you tug your tongue, poking at his bicep "spotting," you remind him.

"right, spotting," he kisses his teeth, nodding with thought. his mouth opens briefly, nothing but silence coming out - but then he sighs, "you're ridiculously good, y/n, i've been blown away by you."

you swallow thickly, completely shocked at his kind words and warmhearted complexion. he smiles sheepishly, like he might be embarrassed by his straightforward compliment. you muster up a grin, fiddling with the edge of your sweatshirt. "that means a lot to me - thank you."

"you're welcome," he says sheepishly, rubbing one of his large palms over the back of his neck. matt steps backwards, eyes meeting yours. "i'll see you tomorrow, y/n."

"i'll see you tomorrow, matt."

— Day Two

like yesterday, you and matt ended up being one of the first skating partners to be filmed. which was kind of nice, because after the hour or so of teaching him, you got to have a break. granted today both you and matt had to stay for some extra interview style filming and then proceed to begin to practice the 40 second - 1 minute routine needed for a few days time.

you had already finished your question session for the day, so you were sat comfortably on one of the benches. the sounds of shay's skates gliding across the ice as she taught john some more complex spins was a soothing noise - giving you a moment to reflect.

last night after your long day spent with matt, you had gotten back to your hotel exhausted once again - eyes practically fluttering closed on the elevator ride up. you had briefly checked social media before heading to bed in search for some brain distraction before sleep - only to be met with your exes instagram story with another girl: the two looking very cozy together.

that sent you into a depressive spiral, which included lots of self doubt and crying. it's not even the fact that he had moved on from your relationship quickly, but the thought of him having no regards for how you may feel had you feeling sick - your self doubt and insecurities in full force.

your eyes had still hurt from your night of crying when you woke up - definitely still puffy as you showed up at the rink. you definitely hadn't been as layed back today, and most of your responses were short and quick - your movements not as precise or clean. your heartbreak was beginning to affect you on the rink...all because of a stupid instagram story. you honestly felt bad for matt having to deal with you and you can only hope you're not ruining his experience.

the sound of somebody stepping up onto the padded area of the benches has you snapping out of your daydreaming, looking up at the source to see matt hobbling towards you - the padding affecting his skate blades.

matt was coming from filming some interview content with david like you had previously done - now taking a seat beside you on the bench before you'd both have to practice the routine. matt sits close enough to you that his arm bumps yours, but he doesn't seem to mind the closeness - making no effort to move away from you, keeping your limbs pressed together.

"good job today." you smile gently towards him, but it doesn't meet your eyes. quickly, you turn your attention back towards the rink - john beecher's laugh a nice distraction.

matt smiles politely even though you're not looking at him, "thanks - you too."

you shoot him a questioning glance, but there's a ghost of a smile on your face - his little quip getting to you. it makes matt beam, eyes trained on you even as david zooms over to take some behind the scenes pictures of you both - he's gone before you even have a chance to pose.

you find the ice, instinctively thinking about your ex once again. you're almost angry at yourself for doing so - you took this opportunity to try and heal and get over the heartbreak back in boston. and matt was so nice yesterday, already providing you with a comfortable distraction in your healing journey.

matt nudges his skate covered foot against yours, pulling you out from another moment of daydreaming. "you trying to steal some teaching techniques from shay or something?"

"what?"

"you keep zoning out over there." he laughs gently, his elbow nudging into you in one last attempt to get you to crack.

you laugh, but it's definitely forced - shaking your head as you try and clear your summersault of thoughts.

matt sighs, eyes dancing over your dull expression. "sorry if this comes across weird, but...are you okay?"

you shoot him a glance. "what do you mean?"

he shrugs, "I don't know you just look off - sorry if that's too harsh. it's just…yesterday you looked much more, I don't know, happier? or maybe more hyper? sorry if i'm overstepping, just thought I'd be a decent human being and ask." matt seems to nervously run a hand over his flowing hair, awkwardly tugging his jersey away from his neck as he rambles. "i've noticed something all day and I just thought...I don't know."

you frown gently. you've never been one who could easily control your emotions and they are always easily depicted on your face. today was no exception, and matt has clearly caught it. although you weren't planning on getting into your lingering heartache, you owed it to your partner to at least give him something. besides, matt noticing something was up with you based solely on your body language and waiting until you weren't in front of cameras to ask about it....was rather sweet and considerate of him.

matt continues to apologize to you, his eyes frantically searching your face for any notable signs of discomfort.

you press further into his side to gather his attention, doing your best at sending him a playful smirk. "hey if i'm not allowed to excessively apologize without a reason - neither are you."

your teasing has matt breathing a sigh of relief, but his brows still are drawn together in question. "so i'm not overstepping?"

you shake your head. "you being perspective and asking me if i'm okay is not overstepping."

his brows change, shooting up in suprise. "so you're not okay is what you're telling me?"

you sigh gently, "just...having a hard time recently. nothing that deep, truly. stupid stuff."

on cue, your cell phone resting in your lap lights up with a notification, and like clockwork both you and matt look down at the glowing device. the notification isn't even the problem - just some stupid twitter notification about sydney sweeney and her new movie.

"is that your boyfriend?" matt asks you gently.

he's referring to your lockscreen picture - one that contains you and your ex laying together on the beach. matt had seen the lockscreen photo that you still hadn't had the heart to change - too attached to the memories of what once was. that was the problem.

"no, sorry - he's," you pause, debating if you're really about to tell matt - a guy you're just really getting to know - about your sad excuse of an ex. "he's my ex-boyfriend."

you can practically see the gears turning in his head, his eyes darting around your face to further take in your expression. matt puts all the clues together, humming gently. "is that why you're upset?"

for a brief moment you continue to debate about what to say. telling an nhl player about your ex wasn't exactly what you were expecting to do today, but you also don't really have any sort of outlet for your feelings. back home you sort of don't have any friends - your best friend ashley had moved to ohio for school a year ago and you had your family, but even they could be dismissive and non understanding about your heartbreak. you think matt may just be the next best thing.

"yeah," you finally sigh, "he broke up with me only a couple weeks ago."

"i'm sorry," matt says immediately, eyeing you softly. "what happened - if that's okay to ask?"

"well," you laugh breathily, your disbelief clear in your tone. "he decided that after two years he didn't love me anymore - and based on his story last night…he's already moved on. i'm not even upset that he's moving on, it just hurts to see you know?" you're weren't really expecting to spew all that, but matt doesn't seem to mind as he nods thoughtfully.

"yeah," he agrees, "similar thing happened with my ex, so in some capacity I can understand how you're feeling." he pauses, eyeing the ice once again. you find yourself following suit, watching as shay shows john how to properly do his spread eagles. "you're pretty badass for dealing with my gangly limbs and whining all while being heartbroken- if I was in your spot I probably wouldn't of come."

"that's why i'm here, actually," you laugh thoughtfully, "I thought it would be a nice distraction from all that bullshit going on at home. teaching you how to skate and making new memories. plus, you don't whine as much as I thought you would've." glancing back towards him, you see that he's already looking down at you - a smile tugging at his lips at your teasing.

"really? glad to hear i'm a good student then."

you squint at him, "well I didn't say you are good."

the sound of your further teasing has matt cackling, his head tilting back as he takes in your comment. you giggle gently, already feeling the slightest bit lighter.

"oh okay, I see how it is!" he smirks, "well, my dearest teacher is there anything I can do to improve my grade?"

you're glad that matt has taken well to your teasing, and has even continued to further your lighthearted back and forth - a pleasant conversation to help distract you from your rather tiring day. the combination of a rough night without much sleep and practically exercising all day has you left feeling exhausted.

you tap your chin in a faux thought, lips pursing outwards as you hum, "maybe if you can teach me how to throw a left hook i'll bump your mark up."

"oh so you're only here to brush up on your fighting techniques," he pauses with a hearty laugh, "I see how it is!"

you shrug unapologetically, crossing your skate covered feet over.

"do you watch hockey?" matt hums after a moment. you frown at his rather unprompted question, and you watch him quizzically - his large body bent as he re-ties his skates. you don't say anything at first, so he looks back at you over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised. "I'm only asking because you seem like you knew that I fight - I won't like...banish you if you're not a rangers fan."

you laugh. "sort of," you pause, taking a thoughtful breath. "my brother and my dad - who I live with back in boston, well, they're big bruins fans -" matt makes a disgruntled face out of habit, which has you stifling a giggle. you continue, "i've heard your name before because you fight - my brother likes you."

matt nods understandably. "what's your brothers name?"

"gavin - he just turned 10." a pang of homesickness hits you, and you really wish that your family was in new york with you, exploring the city and watching you teach.

matt smiles gently, "I'll have to meet him one day."

"he'd like that." you say instantly - not even thinking about what that would mean. how that would include matt rempe being with you in boston, or how it would be you and gavin visiting him in new york. "what about you, any siblings?"

"sisters," his face lights up, "steph and alley. they stay in calgary with my mom."

"they must be really proud of you." you hum truthfully, resting your chin on your shoulder as you smile up at him.

his smile widens, clearly very close with his mom and sisters. "they are - but i've honestly never seen them more excited about me skating, than they've been knowing you're teaching me figure skating." he laughs.

"are you telling your family about me?" you squawk with joy, eyes glimmering with playfulness.

before he has a chance to respond, the sound of demi's high pitched voice is interrupting - and it has you looking away from matt's face and back towards the rink. demi is looking at dawson with impatience, her tone coming across very short and irritated. poor dawson, you think, he must be dying inside. although you're not sure if you were any better than that today, remembering your rough start.

thankfully the devils forward just smiles and nods understandably- and you can only hope demi's temper comes across as a staged dynamic between the two of them: bossy and forgiving.

beside you, matt leans in closer, his breath warm against the shell of your ear as he whispers. "looks like I definitely ended up with the best skater." you meet his eyes curiously, and that has matt subtly gesturing towards demi, brows raised in disbelief as her impatience has now turned into obvious flirtation. you're glad matt thinks you're more tolerable than demi.

you snap your hand up towards your mouth in an attempt to cover and stifle your giggle. both of you watch as dawson tries to attempt a cantilever after demi's poor demonstration, and you can't help the roll of your eyes as demi immediately begins reprimanding him.

although her teaching skills were anything but good, you can tell that dawson also wasn't really trying and wasn't as loose with his movements - in fact, it kind of looks like dawson doesn't want to be there at all.

you turn your head into the side of matt's arm, directing your whispers into him so your voice has no chance of carrying throughout the arena. "seems like I got the best nhl player."

matt smirks once you pull away, and he bumps his shoulder with yours. "obviously."

you scrunch your nose, "even if he is a goon."

matt's head snaps towards you, a look of shock combined with amusement on his face. "hey!" he scolds with a laugh.

matt doesn't have an opportunity to tease you further, words interrupted when shay and john make their way towards the bench, both of them looking tired after their skating session and interviews. regardless, they are both smiling and chatting cheerily as they sit down beside you.

shay is instantly bringing a ray of sunshine with her, happily greeting you and instantly chatting and giggling to you about some crazy thing she heard demi tell another one of the skaters regarding something matt doesn't quite pick up on.

he's too busy noticing how shay's presence seems to be one of the last puzzles pieces in helping you feel better and look more relaxed. your eyes continue to widen and sparkle as you laugh, and how you don't seem to venture off into daydream land while listening to john and shay animatedly go over how john almost ate shit during a glide. it's all very sweet. matt barley knows you and already he doesn't want to see you feel anything but happiness.

without any deliberation, matt grabs your phone from your lap quickly, a smirk on his face once he sees your shocked face. he opens the camera icon, bringing your phone upwards so it is capturing all four of you on the bench. you don't get a chance to scold him before matt gets their attention. "hey guys, let's get a picture."

"oh yeah," beecher smirks, bumping into shay - which sends her body sliding into yours, and like a butterfly affect sends you into matt's side, tightly tucked into him. "everyone try to look happy and not exhausted." beecher playfully adds.

shay playfully rolls her dark eyes - clearly used to johns personality already. to further his point, john holds two fingers up behind shay's head, giving her faux bunny ears for the camera. shay leans into further your side, her head on your shoulder as she blows a kiss - while you choose to wrap your hands around matt's building forearm, practically hugging his limb as he snaps the picture.

later when you're back in your hotel room - there are three things that take you by somewhat of a surprise. the first being two instagram follows from john beecher and matt rempe - you follow both back immediately.

the second is your brother linking you a tiktok.

it's a clip of you and matt from a distance, clearly filmed by david - the two of you were whispering to one another and giggling, and it was captioned 'plotting'. your brother had texted his excitement about you getting partnered with matt rempe - which had you smiling.

the surprising part wasn't even the tiktok, it was how at ease you looked in his presence. you almost can't fathom it, because it's not just about looking at ease but you were at ease around matt. you want to try and deny it, but you can't - whatever you're beginning to feel in his presence is undeniable.

you knaw at your lip, going into your camera roll to find the photo matt had taken of you all a few hours ago - four smiling faces starring back at you. you all look happy and like you want to be with one another - unlike the picture of you and your ex on your lockscreen. you sigh gently, but there's a gentle, content smile on your face. you make the new picture your wallpaper, replacing your ex for good.

— Day Three

you knock three times against the large wooden door of the quick home, softly to not seem too eager but loud enough so you'd be heard.

you sigh gently, adjusting the bag against your shoulder so it sits comfortably. you can't believe you're actually here - waiting for matt rempe to let you inside jonathan quick's home. this morning when you woke up, you had an instagram message from matt - some corny text that pretty much asked for your number. which, obviously had your stomach swooping and as you gave it to him.

spending the past few days with matt has been really...pleasant. although you've literally known him for only three days- the amount of time spent together makes that feel like it's been years. you're pleasantly surprised with how nice, funny and adaptable matt has been with you. thinking back to before you met matt, you can't even fathom how silly you had felt leading up to everything- the nerves you had been battling regarding the week now seem ridiculous. and you hate to sound like demi, but matt's face is certainly a bonus to everything else - you also hate how that thought is beginning to make you feel.

you had spent a good amount of time today choreographing the mini routine with matt during your lesson. you wanted to make sure matt had a say in what was happening so that way you could ensure he was capable and comfortable with the routine. it all seemed to be going very well, and matt had seemed to really have a grasp of the routine.

so tonight when he texted you asking for some more help and practice - going as far to invite you to the quick's house where he'd be living for the upcoming season - you had been slightly confused. it wasn't like today was your only day for practicing the routine as all the skaters and respective nhlers had two hours tomorrow morning before needing to preform - that way it was fresh in their mind. so you'd been a bit unsure of why he wanted to have you come over tonight when tomorrow you could provide any clarity and help he was seeking.

regardless of those thoughts, you drive over to the house...ready to help matt practice your figure skating routine in a nhl superstars living room - yeah, what is your life right now. through all the disbelief and curiosity of the situation though, you did want to succeed in your partnership and win the kids votes with your routine, so you're happy matt was serious about it all.

the door clicks open, and the butterflies in your stomach flutter quickly. the idea of spending extra time with matt have the little bugs increasing in speed, sending your skin through joyful vibrations. matt smirks, leaning against the doorframe. "hey."

"hi," you breathe, adjusting your hoodie as you do so. matt looks so comfortable, clad in a black henley top and team branded athletic shorts- showing of the muscles he's put on during the offseason. suddenly you feel a bit sloppy - not even bothering to take your hair down from its scraggly bun before coming over. you chuckle awkwardly, "you called for me?"

your poor attempt at a posh accent lands, and matt's laughter is warm, filling your chest with its own hot feelings as he chuckles about your joke. "I did - wanna come in?"

you nod. matt opens the door wider, gesturing for you to make your way into the large foyer. immediately you feel out of place, the grand entryway practically the size of your living room and kitchen combined back home. it's almost completely silent inside, saved from the youtube playing quietly in another room. "this is really nice." you breathe out, kicking off your shoes beside the welcome rug.

matt huffs in laughter - a sound that's become way too familiar. from behind you, matt grabs the strap of your bag, his long fingers brushing your shoulder as he slips it off your arm. "I know right - i'm very lucky."

brushing off matt's touch on your shoulder, you laugh once, blindly following matt as he moves through the large space - presumably leading you towards one of what you assume is many living spaces.

"and who would've thought i'd also be getting lucky" you attempted joke quickly turns your face hot, the realization of what just come from your mouth has you feeling embarrassed. you slow in your steps, covering your burning cheeks with your hands. "wait, that came out wrong."

matt laughs over his shoulder, shooting you a playful glance. "you little freak." he teases, "I never would've thought the sweet, innocent looking girl who I first saw across the room in the meeting room would be such a little perv."

his obvious teasing and taunting smirk had you groaning with further embarrassment, dragging your feet as you make your way in his direction. "matt i'm literally dying here - throw me a bone at least."

matt's brows raise with surprise, and his laughter increases - like he's in disbelief. then, it hits you, another accidental sexual innuendo burning your face to an impossible shade of red. your mouth parts at a loss for words, and your eyes close to further your shocked state. "i'm just going to leave."

matt reaches out to you and he grabs your wrist gently, dragging you through the last bit of remaining space between you. the feeling of his touch has your eyes snapping open, you once parted lips snapping closed quickly. you stare up at him with softness and a little bit of shock- now closer than you ever could have imagined.

his bottom lips juts out - all wet and pouty as he slowly blinks down at you. "don't leave - I need you here."

you swallow nervously and automatically your breathing quickens in space. matt's words are sitting heavy in your ears and millions of thoughts about his soft confession swirl around your head. softly, you question his words. "you need me here?"

matt's pout transforms into a gentle smirk and his eyes squint at you questionably. you can see the teasing comment brewing from a mile away. "yeah because I want to go over our routine - get your mind out of the gutter, y/n."

"oh my god." you sigh, your eyes rolling playfully as matt begins to giggle to himself like a school boy. you shake your head in admirable disbelief, "you're such a-"

matt interrupts, "an amazing and perfect guy?"

"little shit." you correct, quirking a brow upwards in his direction.

"whatever you say ma'am," matt sing songs, his grip on your wrist tightening ever so slightly, guiding you in the direction of the living room - babbling how if you keep making unnecessary sexual comments he'll never get to learning the routine properly.

all you can do is hide your growing smile and blush while his back is turned.

matt knows the routine like the back of his hand. you show him solo once before you make him join in - and he almost perfectly execute his moves. it slightly furthers your confusion about him asking for extra help from earlier, but you brush those thoughts away. you get about 30 minutes of practice in and although neither of you are on ice skates, it's still a successful practice - matt is moving as if there was a set of blades beneath him.

it isn't long before matt is sighing dramatically, taking a break from twizzling - he just about had carpet burn on the soles of his feet from the friction. he takes a messy gulp of water, the sound of plastic crinkling echoing through the empty house. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, "okay i'm beat - I gotta save the rest of my energy for tomorrow."

you laugh softly, quirking your head as you eye him. "I think you've got enough energy built up to last for the rest of your life."

"yeah yeah," he dismisses your teasing remark with a smile, hand waving you off. "wanna watch a movie or something?"

you eye him, "a movie?"

he nods, completely unfazed by your doubtful tone. "yeah - ever heard of one?"

you ignore his blatant teasing, your eyes flickering towards the large rustic clock hanging above the kitchen nook - directly across from the large family room. "are you sure?" you question, wide eyes darting between the time and matt's awaiting face, "it's almost 8...I don't want to intrude."

matt scoffs gently, like he was disgusted that you'd even think that. his lips tug upwards in a soft smile, spinning his water bottle between two fingers like a basketball would. the sight of him toying with the plastic bottle is a momentary distraction, and you find yourself watching his long fingers like a weirdo. "I like spending time with you - so yes im sure."

matt's words have you looking away from his hands, and you find his soft stare even more distraction than his fingers.

oh.

"you do?" you question meekly, gently fiddling with your hoodie once again. your nerves are growing once again, but this time they're purely because of matt and his borderline romantic confessions. that combined with his eye contact, and constant teasing smile have you feeling rather giddy.

he nods like it should be obvious to you and then he just starts to just walk away - gesturing for you to follow him with a simple nod of the head over his large shoulder.

you're not sure what you were expecting from matt's bedroom, but you don't think it was what you were seeing. it was just so...homey. it's in the basement of the quick house - which was obviously a ridiculously nice and expensive looking spare room.

the room has clearly had a woman's touch, with elegant decor and furniture, but matt had definitely made his mark around the space. his laundry is spread out on the floor near the hamper - not in it and there are a couple miscellaneous knickknacks on top of his bedside table and the tall dresser in the corner.

he's got a pair of wireless beat headphone's hanging off the corner of a picture frame - an image of him and his mom staring back at you. his bed is made, but it's still messy with a throw blanket pulled astray near the top of the bed and pillows squished together - looking like that's where he'd been lounging before you got here.

there's a few hockey sticks sitting up against the closet door and -

"are you going to come join me over here or am I just going to pick the movie all by myself?" matt's annoying teasing question has your eyes falling in his direction. you blush at how entranced you had been by his bedroom - reminding yourself of a 13 year old girl who is in her crushes space for the first time.

to further his point, matt pats the empty side of the bed, beckoning you over with the hand that wasn't holding his remote. in your snooping daze, you'd completely disregarded matt getting comfortable in his bed and turning on the tv -further illuminating the room.

"i'm not a dog," you giggle, making your way over to him despite your attempt at sounding annoyed. you climb into his rather large collection of blankets, burritoing yourself between them. your limbs immediately thank you as they finally have a chance for relief. "and if you think i'm letting you pick a movie you're certainly wrong."

matt gets himself into a more comfortable position, resting his head on his arm as he scrolls through the options on netflix. he turns his head towards you leisurely, and the pillows puff at the movement. "and why's that?"

you shrug gently, eyes meeting his. "you'd probably pick like...slapshot or something that I don't want to watch."

he laughs softly. "and your pick would be better?"

immediately, you hum with confidence. "absolutely it would."

his brows raise and he silently challenges your claim. "okay and what movie would that be?"

naturally, your eyes flat back towards the tv screen - the small collection of movies matt had stopped on mid scrolling staring back at you. there's nothing that initially catches your eye, but right at the end of the list there's one film that nobody could resist.

"pitch perfect," you state, looking back towards matt. his eyes are still on you and his face expression is soft. you clear your throat gently, and your eyes flicker. "not only is it actually funny, but it's a unique story with friendship and romance - there is truly nothing better. it's probably my favourite." you weren't lying, it was one of your favourite movies. something about the film had always held such a special place in your heart, and you couldn't never ignore it when you saw it.

matt could tell you were passionate about the movie franchise based solely on the way your eyes flickered as you talked. he's seen that look on you before - anytime you laughed at his jokes or when you were skating it made an appearance. matt shrugs nonchalantly and clicks the play button. "i've never seen it."

your eyes widen with surprise, "really? matt oh my god." the lighting from the movie's opening scene is shining on you, illuminating both of your flushed faces in the dim bedroom. "well thank god I saw it on there."

"thank god," matt mimics you teasingly. "now quiet down i'm trying to watch the movie."

you laugh into the pillow you'd stolen earlier, trying your best to focus on the movie playing and not matt's side profile - but it proves to be rather difficult.

unfortunately, it's not long before your eyes start fluttering, the long day catching up to you. soon enough, you feel them properly close and you're not strong enough to fight off the much needed sleep.

matt feels a gentle pressure on his shoulder, and he finds that your head has gravitated towards him in your sleep. the sight of your rosy cheeks and puffy lips have him smiling fondly, doing his best at staying still to ensure you would be well rested for tomorrow - he'd make sure to wake you in the morning with plenty of time for you to get ready.

slowly, his eyes flicker back towards the movie that he's obviously seen many times before - he grew up with three woman in the house for gods sake. he just couldn't disappoint that sparkle in your eyes.

— Day 4

you wake up groggily at first, eyes squinting through the unfamiliar bedroom. you focus on the hockey sticks against the wall and feel the warmth of a body next to yours and soon you come to - finally recalling your whereabouts.

you sit up quickly. "oh my god I fell asleep." you sigh, hands panic searching through the blankets in a desperate search to find your phone. in your peripheral, matt hold's out your phone - and you don't miss the teasing look he gives you with it.

"I was just about to wake you up - wasn't going to let you be late." matt mumbles sleepily. he shoves your phone into your hoodie pocket before you have a chance to take it from his hand.

you jump out of bed hurriedly, fixing your disheveled messy bun as you do. his comforting words fall on deaf ears, and you feel panicked. you can feel your heart reaching and the adrenaline pumping through your body. "i've got to shower and then I have to make sure i've got my preforming clothes ready - oh gosh, I also was supposed to text shay and help her go over a move for her routine and-"

"hey," matt says gently, gently taking ahold of your biceps - grounding you. you didn't even notice him get out of bed, as you were too busy going over the endless notes app you had curated in your head. his thumbs stroke against your skin soothingly, distracting you from your moment of anxiety. "I made sure you'd have enough time for anything like that, okay? and look I don't even need to wake you up, so you've got a few extra minutes to spare. you're okay."

you nod at his reassuring voice and for the first time since waking up in a state of confusion and panic, you feel like you can breathe properly. "okay," you smile gently, allowing a much needed exhale to escape from your heavy lungs. "i've gotta go now."

matt releases his comforting hold on your arms, shuffling backwards a few steps to give you some space. although you definitely weren't opposed to his presence so close, you now didn't have to crank your neck upwards to look at him properly. "okay," matt responds, running a hand through his sleep disheveled hair.

"thank you!" the relief you feel in that moment is like nothing else, and you finally let yourself smile properly. although, you still feel rushed thinking about everything you needed to do in the next two hours. you're just thankful matt was planning on waking you with enough time to spare. you're overcome with gratitude for matt's kind gestures spanning over the last 24 hours and you can't help yourself from showing it. quickly, you dart up on the tips of your toes, placing your hands on matt's thick chest for balance as you reach up to plant a kiss on his cheek.

matt's eyes widen with surprise, and an amused smile tugging at his mouth at your action. he looks down at you softly, but you don't catch it, too rushed in gathering yourself and heading out. "i'll see you later!"

you're out of the quick's house faster than your feet can handle, and you make it to your rental car parked in the long oval driveway in record time.

it's not until your driving away, gracie abrams voice soothing you over the radio as you turn onto the road does your brain catch up to your own actions. your mouth falls in shock.

you had kissed matt. on the cheek granted, but still. you curse yourself, holding a hand to your forehead to try and calm your rapid heart and burning skin.

nervously, you knaw on your thumb - nibbling on the skin around your nail bed until it becomes uncomfortable. the metallic taste on your lips is a momentary distraction from your own frantic brain. you can't stop thinking about matt - more specifically, the kiss you had smacked onto his cheek as the sun was rising.

your mind is reeling thinking about what he is making of your random burst of affection. is he weird out or uncomfortable by the kiss? did he care? did he not want to preform with you anymore? does he regret inviting you over last night?

it doesn't help that you're at the practice arena and matt hasn't shown up yet. all the other partners had been on time, and all of the skaters and respective nhl stars were already going over their routines. not you though - you waited nervously in the musky scented hallway, still tearing away at your thumb as you watched the doors.

you think that matt must be upset with you. he was late because the kiss had put him off and he was procrastinating spending time with you. your lips release your thumb and immediately you run the hand over your freshly styled hair, feeling yourself become somewhat emotional as you begin to pace the hall.

just as think to call it quits, pack up your stuff and just go home, the door swings open. matt walks in looking slightly breathless, eyes heavy as he searches the area. he spots you rather quickly and begins to make his way over, an unreadable look on his soft features.

immediately, you start to apologize. "i'm so sorry matt! I shouldn't have kissed you - it was so rude and unprofessional of me! I can understand if you're mad at me or want a new partner." you ring your hands out nervously, eyes not once straying from his face - desperately trying to get an insight on his expression.

matt's eyebrows pull tightly towards the centre of his face, and he shakes his head confused. "what? i'm not mad at you."

you swallow, "you're not?" matt shakes his head no, and a small smile begins tugging at the one corner of his mouth.

still feeling confused and worried, you find yourself frowning, "then how come you were late?"

"am I late?" he questions curiosity, not intending to receive an answer. matt doesn't make an effort to actually check the time or anything, and he only shrugs with nonchalance- his always playful smirk growing. "I stopped at a coffee shop - do want decaf or regular?"

you blink. "what?"

he laughs once. matt puts the takeout tray down on one of the benches lining the hallway corridors, slipping the two drinks out from their respective holes. you hadn't even noticed matt had been carrying coffees until just now - when he walked in, you were too damn anxious to focus on anything. he lifts the two cups closer to you, "decaf coffee or regular coffee? I don't have a preference so i'm fine with either."

"decaf," you finally mumble. matt smiles, passing you the local cafes branded paper cup. you eye the lid, fiddling with the opening flap as you try and and attempt to collect your own scrambled thoughts. "so you're not weirded out?"

matt swallows his mouthful of coffee, "by what?"

you laugh once, tone full of disbelief. "I kissed you."

his brows raise, "yeah you did."

"i'm sorry I don't understand what's happening right now." you sort of laugh out - the confusion of the whole situation coming to a head. you press your hand to your forehead, looking towards matt through your lashes as you try and gauge his unreadable facial expression. you're not so much worried about him being angry with you now, because clearly that's not the case. he seems really casual about the whole thing, which has your stomach flipping.

"right now," matt takes a step towards you, practically pressing himself against you with his frame. his tongue slips out, wetting his bottom lip as he stares down at you. "we are having some coffee before heading out to practice our figure skating. we are also briefly discussing how you jumped me this morning and attacked me with a kiss."

his teasing and exaggerated explanation immediately has you feeling much lighter about the situation- your earlier panic dissolving. you gently scoff at him, and you can't think of anything else besides flicking him in the chest - a small punch of retaliation. "matt seriously I was panicked thinking I fucked this up."

he laughs gently, a shake of his head following suit. "no," his words are like a whisper, a gentle tone that kisses the skin of your face as he speaks. there's a twinkle in his eye, one that comes anytime he wants to push your buttons. "i'm used to your pervy antics by now." with his free hand, matt reaches towards you and fluffs your hair around, covering your face as he does.

you screech, the sound quickly forming into a giggle as you try and swat him away. it proves to be a difficult task without your vision and the use of both hands - your decaf cup still clutched tightly, liquid sloshing around as you squirm.

matt's laughter subsides and he slows to a pause - his free hand gently brushing any strayed curled hair back into its proper place. your vision is back, no longer impaired by the strands of your hair.

he swallows gently and you can feel his fingers tickling along your hairline. matt tucks some final strands comfortably behind your ear, fingers grazing the shell. your previous smile slowly fades as you watch him and his eyes that are solely focused on you. matt's hand doesn't leave the side of your face, fingers cradling your over cheek and against your ear.

you have never been so entranced by anybody like the way you are with matt. for god sakes, you've only known the guy less than a week, but there was something about him that felt so much like home - a safe space for you and your heart. it was almost scary how quickly you find yourself beginning to heal because of a man you barley know. but that's just it, you think, it feels like you've known him a lifetime.

"let's get to practicing," matt says reluctantly, pulling away from your body after stroking your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. the cool air of the arena replaced his warm embrace and you shiver gently. he places down his coffee cup beside the tray he'd earlier left on the bench, "I can see duclair's routine and it looks too good - we gotta beat him."

you breathe out with laughter, placing your cup beside matt's almost full one. "let's not forget the reason we are just starting practice is because you were late." you begin to walk with matt towards the rink, the icy scent filling your nostrils.

matt scoffs, "yeah because I got you a coffee." he steps onto the ice, immediately twirling so he's facing you. wordlessly, he helps you step out onto the ice, grabbing your hand.

"bribery will get you nowhere."

he snorts, "okay you better remember that when you try and plant another kiss on me-"

you yelp, hand coming up to cover matt's mouth before he can continue.

matt had absolutely blown you away. he nailed the mini figure skating routine, which not only made you feel good about your teaching abilities but also had you feeling proud of matt - his hard work and commitment to learning something new was admirable.

the feeling of finishing the routine was amazing in itself - but when matt had smiled brightly down at you before wrapping his thick arms around your waist in a hug, spinning you around (the perfect twizzle may you add) was just even more incredible. you don't even find yourself caring how the affection might look in the eyes of the camera or the thousands of fans who will be watching. you’re too happy with everything to worry.

once all the routines have been preformed, the little league team had decided that demi and dawson were the winners. although you were slightly disappointed with loosing, you heard some of the boys giggling about how 'hot' demi was and how cool it was that dawson knew jack hughes - so you weren't too concerned about your routine being lacklustre: the win wasn't decided on skill.

so although the kids didn’t declare you and matt the champions - matt's lingering touches and sweet grin had you feeling like a winner.

— Day 5

"we are not naming him rempire state building."

you pout at matt's statement and your arms tighten further around the gigantic duck plushie. "please - I love that name."

"it's not even a name." matt challenges, his laughter like a sweet melody over the rambunctious sounds of bells and coasters. he continues, "it's just my last name added onto a famous skyscraper."

you tut your tongue, "and that's just it - your last name." cradling the duck closer to your face, you rub the fluffy fur along your soft jawline. matt gives you an unimpressed look, but the smirk pulling at his lips contradicts his stare.

the wind picks up slightly, and a cool breeze comes - slipping between carnival booths and rides and sending a chill over your exposed skin. shivering, you hug the duck plushie closer, attempting to warm yourself up.

the goosebumps on your skin have you wishing you’d brought some kind of jacket. that has you thinking back to only a few hours ago, when matt texted you.

matt rempe

hey, beecher and drysdale wanted to take you, shay and emilia out to the carnival tonight for your last night in new york!

matt rempe

also as like a huge thank you for putting up with our annoying asses for the past week

matt rempe

please say yes to me or ill cry

y/n y/l/n

big baby

y/n y/l/n

i'd love to go to the carnival with you

matt rempe

i'll pick you up in 30

matt rempe

and bring a jacket, it's supposed to get cold

obviously, you forgot a jacket. the wind continues its gnarly sweep, and the summer night temperature drop has you thinking of fall weather. you subconsciously seak human warmth and you shuffle in close, tucking yourself into matt's side.

matt chuckles knowingly at your shivering. he picks out some of the fluffy cotton candy he'd be keeping in his hoodie pocket - letting the sticky desert melt on his tongue. "I told you to bring a jacket."

"I forgot." you're pouting again, tucking your face into the duck.

matt swallows the treat in his mouth, and his steps decrease in speed as he comes to a slow stop. wordlessly, he pulls off his black sweatshirt, and he holds it out to you. "here."

"I don't want you to be cold." you say timidly, your eyes darting between the article of clothing and matt’s expectant eyes.

"I don't want you to be cold," he laughs softly, furthering his gesture. "give me perv so you can put the hoodie on."

you eye him. the real reason matt didn't want to name your beloved stuffed duck that he'd won at one of the balloon popping games rempire state building was because he wanted to name it perv. immediately you expressed your disagreement- you were not naming the cute stuffed duck perv.

regardless, you hand him the duck in exchange for the article of clothing. the cool summer air has you further feeling chilled and you don't waste anymore time. you pull on the sweatshirt, and immediately your enveloped by the lingering body heat and smell of matt. "thanks."

he smiles, passing back the stuffed animal which you immediately begin hugging tightly once again. matt reaches into the pocket of now your hoodie, pulling out the bag of cotton candy so he can further snack as you begin to start walk along again.

"I think you should rethink the name perv," he pitches between chewing, his arm brushes against your shoulder as you both leisurely stroll the fairgrounds. "it's cute."

"it's not cute," you squawk, "it's quite literally perverted." reaching towards him, you reach into the plastic bag and rip off some of the blue cotton candy. plopping it on your tongue, your fingers become sticky as it melts, and you suck the crystallized candy clean off.

matt watches hazily and he swallowing thickly. clearing his throat, his eyes find the crowd infront of him once again, distracting himself with the busy grounds. "you're no fun." he says after a pause, and he side eyes you playfully with a smirk on his face. "just wanted to name it after you."

you laugh loudly and steal some more cotton candy from the mixed bag. "that makes it worse! why you insist on calling me perv is way beyond me."

suddenly, beecher throws his arm around your shoulders, coming up behind you with shay hot on his heels. it scares you momentarily, but you have no chance to scold him as john starts steering you towards the other side of the carnival grounds. "we're all doing that."

to accentuate his words, he points towards the neon lights of the laser tag sign. it lights up the dusk fallen fair - hues of green, blue, and red covering your body as john guides you towards the pop-up.

"oh god," shay all but whines from behind you, her feet dragging. "I suck at laser tag." she states once you’re all standing at the end of the lineup, her dark lips forming into a pout.

john's arm leaves your shoulders so he can turn towards shay - presumably to pester her about her lack of enthusiasm.

matt pulls on the pocket of your (his) sweatshirt, tugging you towards him and eliminating the little bit of space that was between you. you hold your breath with anticipation, letting matt practically manhandle you as he tucks you into his torso. he looks down at you with a playful expression, "you've played laser tag before?"

matt’s possessive handling from just moments ago has your adrenaline running and you’re not sure if you can form a coherent sentence. you shake your head no, glancing up towards matt through your dark lashes. clearing your throat, you ask, "is it hard?"

he smirks, "you'll be fine."

you're definitely not fine. you’ve since discovered that laser tag is not your forte, and to make it worse, matt got put on the opposite team with shay, emilia and jamie. you had beecher on your team, but he was no help. you haven't seen him since the beginning of the game when he started to run away from you - shouting about he had the perfect snipping spot.

the laser tag gun is heavier than you expected, and you keep having to dodge acne prone teenagers who have their sights set on targeting you.

the light up vest you have to wear is hurting your shoulders, the rough material rubbing against your skin uncomfortably with every move you take. the neon signs are providing the only light source in the space, and you keep have to squint to get a proper look at your surroundings.

for what feels like the hundredth time, you peek around the corner you've been hiding behind, trying to look through the shadows to make sure the coast is clear. you want to at least make it to the other side of the course before the game ended. a shadow dashes by, quick on their feet. you hold your breath, trying to stay still to not get caught. just when you think you're in the clear, the silhouette turns to you and darts behind your corner.

the lighting above adjusts, flashing a dark blue. you continue to hold your breath with anticipation and prepare for the stranger to shoot your target and eliminate you. the light moves over their face, and you can finally see them properly. instantly, you breathe out with relief.

matt's smirk makes your stomach feel warm as he looks down at you, his laser gun hanging loosely at his side. "how's it going?" he asks playfully. matt reaches towards your vest, teasingly tugging on the arm opening.

you huff with exhaustion and let the gun you’d be dripping for dear life fall to your side. "I haven't gotten a single target because i've been too scared to move - I don't think i've left this corner in 10 minutes. and these kids from your team, by the way, keep trying to find me."

matt chuckles lowly, his teeth igniting underneath the blacklight above. "I know - they keep talking about trying to get out the 'hottie'" he air quotes with his fingers, mimicking their words.

you pull an uncomfortable face, and a strangled whine passes through your lips, your eyes closing with a combination of embarrassment and annoyance. "i'm toast."

the sounds of running shoes stomping on the ground and children's laughter grows louder, signalling that they were getting closer to your hiding spot. your eyes widen.

quickly, matt wraps an arm around the dip of your waist and he pulls you against his chest. he spins you both around so that you're pressed further against the wall, deeper in the corner. you're both completely enveloped in darkness, and you can only make out the silhouette of matt’s features.

your mouth opens, but your words immediately dir on your tongue. quietly, matt shushes you with a playful quirk to an eyebrow, the top of his index finger brushing along your bottom lip to further his point.

all you can muster is a slow nod in response, as you’re too overwhelmed by the feeling of matt all over you to form any words. the way his strong chest flush was against your breasts, and his hips pushing against the pudgy part of your stomach. matt's arm is still tightly nestled around your waist, and he makes no move to change that.

you can only hope that he can't feel your rapid heartbeat or staggered breathing - the nerves you was currently experiencing were just downright embarrassing.

"this may be a bad time," matt's voice is barley audible over the sound of the post malone song playing over the speakers and the distant sounds of people laughing and talking. "but you smell really good."

you tilt your head farther back to and properly look at him. your chin practically presses to his chest as you do, reminding you of just how tall he is. "what?" you whisper meekly in question.

"all I can smell is your shampoo," a faint smirk appears at the corner of matt's mouth. "I can't help it, your head is right under my nose."

you were adorably struck, a little smile beginning to grow on your lips. "so what you're trying to say is you've been sniffing me?"

he huffs out a laugh, "no - it's just a strong scent."

you swallow gently, blinking slowly. between you bodies, your hand begins to tingle with numbness, and you slowly maneuver it out- pressing your palm flat shading matt’s stomach. you fight the urge to clutch the material of his soft shirt in your hands - wanting to grasp as much of him as you could.

matt jerks slightly, and his eyes meet yours through the dark. his adam apple moves as he swallows thickly, and you can feel his fingers flex around the softness of your waist.

you breath quickens, and you drop the laser gun to the ground. matt doesn’t flinch at the sounds, his eyes never leaving your face. now with your hand free, you let it slide along the side of matt’s torso, slowly tickling him with your nails. you need him in every way possible. you need his laughter, and his teasing smiles, and his touch, and you desperately need his kiss.

you lick your lips slowly, your tongue making sure all creases are moistened. “matt,” you whisper with vulnerability. this time, you don’t fight your own urges, and you let your fingers take whole of his shirt, keeping him pressed to you. “being with you is healing my heart.”

a genuine smile takes over matt’s face - not one of his slay playful or teasing smiles, but a real one. his eyes hold admiration, darting between your face as if he can’t decide which feature of yours to look at. at some point, he must have also abandoned his gun - the hand he was using to hold it now reaching towards your face. matt holds your cheek tenderly, thumb pushing some hair off your face and holding it to your ear.

“I see her!” the shrill voice of a pre-teen yells out from behind some faux rock structure.

matt pulls away quickly and bends down to grab his laser gun. it has you blinking hard, shaking your head to try and clear the fog that had clouded there within the last few minutes. your skin is on fire, and your aching all over. thoughts of matt now feel impossible to not have.

you lean down to grab your own abandoned gun. as you stand back up, you’re met with the familiar teasing eyes of matt, and he’s borderline laughing to himself. he’s got his laser gun pointed at you, the stream of red light directly hitting your target.

"matt," you warn, "don't even think about it." although you’re pleading, you can help the giggling that falls from your mouth along with your words. you can’t even form the thought of shooting him first, too wrapped up in the attention of right now.

matt cocks his head playfully, "think about what?" he questions you brightly, gun still aiming directly at your glowing vest.

you take off, running back out into the main area of the course. you can feel matt hot on your heels, and the adrenaline of it all has you shrieking in laughter as you try and escape him.

usually after such an intense moment with somebody, you were unable to shake off the shaking feelings and tension that came with it. but with matt, you’re immediately moving forward. the comfortability you’re experiencing with him is something you’d never believed in. honestly, you never really though friendship could exist in romantic interests.

if their was anything you learned from you ex, it was that relationships were meant for sex, lying, and deception. now you know that’s not what a relationship means and having trust, fun, and friendship is the only kind of relationship foundation you deserved.

— Three Weeks Later

opening your email to find a thank you from the nhl social admin team a week after arriving home was a nice surprise. the mass email was inviting you and the other figure skaters to an all expenses paid trip to new york, where you'd get to watch the rangers home opener.

the way your stomach flipped at the thought of seeing matt again was so sensational. you weren't aware that it was possible for you to miss somebody as much as you did him.

the morning after the arcade, matt has insisted on driving you to the train station after he helped you return the rental car. he didn’t want you to pay for an uber, and frankly you didn’t feel like it either. the goodbye hurt you, and you remember your throat feeling scratchy with emotions while he hugged you. matt had pulled back, momentarily eyeing your soft lips….and then the train started to board and you had to leave matt and new york behind.

your chest clenches at the thought, but instead of pain that had been tugging at your heart- it was beating for a whole knew reason.

you accepted the trip offer immediately and you were already planning on what you’d wear to your first ever hockey game - nothing to do with wanting to look your best for your crush…totally not.

briefly, you think about texting matt to tell him about the trip you’d be making, but you ultimately hesitate. you don't want to affect his play or focus in the rangers home opener. if all he can think about is you watching in the crowd, it could negatively impact his game. long story short, you’d hate to be the reason he feels overwhelmed.

you had texted shay soon after responding to the email invite, and she had excitedly told you she’d be making the way down from pittsburgh to be there. thankfully, shay was up to date on your ongoing feelings for matt, so the together the two of you brainstormed over text, ways to suprise matt.

your stomach was spinning with excitement for the remainder of weeks before you’d be with matt again.

—

hockey games were turning out to be more fun than you initially expected. the fans around you were all so enthusiastic and cheerful that you couldn’t help but join in. shay and you had been chanting and jumping for three whole periods. anytime the rangers scored the building became electric, and you understood why the players would thrive off that feeling.

like planned, with only 5 minutes remaining in the third and final period of the game, rangers leading 6-2, you opened the camera on your cell phone. first, you and shay smiled brightly for a picture, both of you wearing your blue and red rangers memorabilia. the second picture was the ice, capturing the players zipping around from 15 rows up the stands.

y/n y/l/n

*attached: two images

hey I think shay and I got lost? can you

help us identify this arena ??

the period ends soon after, and you and shay wait a few minutes for the majority of the crowd to disperse. then, using your passes gifted from the nhl social administration team, you both make your way towards the players tunnels.

your phone buzzes.

matt rempe

what?

matt rempe

are you seriously here?

instantly, you’re smiling and the butterflies fluttering around your belly increase by thousands. you lean back against the cool wall to keep yourself from buckling forward - knees going weak with anticipation.

y/n y/l/n

come out of the locker room and find out

a couple of long, antagonizing minutes pass before you see matt. he walks out of the locker room, appearing from behind the grand new york rangers branded doors. his eyes dart through the cluster of his teammates, their families and staff collected in the waiting area - eyes frantically searching for you.

like gravity, your eyes finally lock. instantly, your mouth morphs into a smile, and you push off the stone wall so that you're once again standing upright. you pocket your cellphone in your jeans back pocket, and your cheeks burn with warmth.

matt pushes his way through the crowd, apologies tumbling off his lips quickly as he rushes through the room to try and get to you.

shay mentions something about seeing you back at the hotel room, but you can’t even fathom her words. as matt gets closer to you, you can feel your body spin with excitement - it's all so different from anything you've felt before. it’s refreshing and feels just so right.

finally, matt gets through everyone and he finally reaches you. instantly, he grabs ahold of your flushed cheeks with his large hands. the smell of arena shower soap fills your senses, and your grin triples in size. the scent is so familiar- so matt.

he doesn't say anything to you, but he does lean down and connects your lips together. it feels so right. it feels like he’s the puzzle piece you’d been missing, or the feeling you’d get when you’d find your airpods after months of looking everywhere - kissing matt feels like decaf coffee and the rush of figure skating and the most beautiful song lyrics.

you didn't know kissing could be so pleasant. the way matt's lips caress yours and skillfully slip along yours have you melting into a sticky puddle.

you sigh into his mouth, and your own hands reach out to touch him. they slip into the opening of his his suit jacket, resting on the sides of his strong torso.

matt’s back is bent forward in a way that's borderline uncomfortable, and soon his upper back will start to burn from the strain - but matt didn't care. he had missed you so much…more than he's ever missed anybody in his entire life. the feeling was so unbelievably foreign to him, but he never wanted it to go away - never wanted you to go away.

your lips separate for a second, and you take the opportunity to catch your breath. you chest is heaving along with matt’s but that doesn’t stop him for almost immediately leaning back in - pressing two more much softer kisses to your glistening lips.

one of his teammates whistle teasingly in the room, but you can't even hear it - the only sounds in your ears is the pumping of your own blood, and matt’s breathy groans against you.

he pulls away and a slow, flirtatious smirk crawls its way across matt's flushed face. his thumbs gently run along the indent of your cheekbones, a soothing feeling contrasting your frantic heart. "I should've done that the moment I met you." he breathes the confession.

your laughter was a familiar and welcoming melody, dancing through the crowded room and filling matt's chest with joy. "that would've been ridiculous, matt." you tell him honestly, hugging his torso and resting your chin on his chest.

"yeah," he agrees with a playful gleam, "but that's how long i've been meaning to do it. I haven't stopped thinking about since the moment I saw you in the meeting room last month. when you left on that train, I thought I was going to fall to my knees in agony.”

his dramatics have you rolling your eyes, but you’re grinning nonetheless. “you’re such a-“

“little shit?” matt interrupts knowingly.

you shake your head, “charmer.”

the air between you turns thick once again. matt leans back down towards you, and he captures your mouth in another breath stealing kiss.

he pulls back an inch, eyes still closed as he rests his forehead against yours. “can I confess something really charming?”

you giggle. “oh god, what is it?”

“I don’t even like coffee - only bought two that day so you’d have options.” he smirks playfully.

“little shit.”

matt blows a raspberry to the space between your neck and shoulder, erupting a shriek from you as you try to escape his tickling lips.

you'd make the long distance work - you'd both work together to make your new connection work from different cities. although, you think it can't be too difficult. if you can manage to fall for a stranger with a broken heart, just imagine how much you can accomplish with a healed one.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

#🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic #matt rempe #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe fic #matt rempe fanfic #new york rangers #new york rangers imagine #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nhl #nhl hockey #hockey imagine #hockey fic #hockey

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f1amour · 4 months ago

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「 ✦ F1 GRID — ANGST DRABBLES.

pairings include | max verstappen x assistant!reader, carlos sainz jr. x wolff!reader, charles leclerc x mexican!reader, lando norris x pr!manager!reader

authors note | if you have any requests for some drabbles send them my way! my inbox is always open <3

navigation | main masterlist (coming soon)

— MAX VERSTAPPEN ¹

unrequited love assistant!reader

Becoming an assistant to Max Verstappen was not your plan when you visited Monaco during winter break to celebrate completing your degree. It was a trip you’d been looking forward to all year long after all the long nights of studying and exam taking.

Bumping into Max and getting coffee with him to end up with a one in a lifetime job opportunity was not your plan. You had never imagined going on vacation and ending it with a job.

You also were not planning to fall in love with Max.

Spending two years loving him in the dark was the hardest time in your life. You kept those feelings because he was your boss and you were just his assistant.

But standing here now at the Dutch Grand Prix as Max takes second place you could see the disappointment in his eyes but also the exhaustion. You knew the pressure he has been putting on himself after not having won since June.

"I know it isn't first place but you did amazing out there give the circumstances of how shitty the car is. You made it work." You tell Max while you sit in the seat beside him on your jet.

A few of the drivers were going to join but Max needed space from everyone. You weren't sure why he asked you to stay, you could have given him space as well and booked a flight with everyone else.

A small part of you hoped maybe he needed you and nobody else.

"I just...I don't want to talk about that right now. I'm sorry." With a frown on his face, he traces circles on your thigh; a habit he had for awhile now when he felt upset or anxious.

It wasn't the right place or time to confess your feelings but would there ever be a right time? You figured this was your chance to say it before you fell into a deeper hole of keeping this in.

Maybe he will feel the same way. Maybe.

"Okay we won't talk about that...we can talk about something else? Something I have been wanting to tell you for awhile now."

You take a deep breath, "Okay we won't talk about that...we can talk about something else? Something I have been wanting to tell you for awhile now." Bracing yourself for the confession that is about to come.

Max knew just from the look in your eyes that what you wanted to say was something he had been trying to avoid. But now in the air with no where else to go he would have to hear you out.

"Please y/n don't. Don't say it." His pleas come out almost pathetically. He did not want to hear those three words come out of your mouth when he knows he won't say it back to you.

"I can't keep holding this in any longer than I have. Max, I love you--."

"You can't. No. Y/n please don-."

"I love you. I love you and I need you to hear that now I can't go another two years with you not knowing. I've tried to hide it, I've tried to push it away, but it's no use – I can't escape these feelings for you. From the moment I met you, there was something about you that just...captured me. Your smile, your laugh, your presence. It all took my breath away. I've tried to ignore this feeling, to push it down and forget about it, but it's always there, lurking in the back of my mind. I can't deny these feelings for you any longer."

Y/n's heart sinks into your stomach as the silence hangs heavily in the air after your confession. Max looks at you, and in the depth of his eyes, you see your fears confirmed. There is no glimmer of affection, no hint of reciprocated feelings. Just a cold, unspoken rejection.

You can sense that your words have not had the desired effect, and realization sets in: he does not feel the same.

Max breaks the silence, his voice soft and quiet, "I'm sorry. I don't feel the same way. I'm so sorry."

Feeling vulnerable and exposed at the moment she gives him a soft smile to conceal her tears, "t's okay. It was silly of me to think you would ever love me anyways. I just needed to say it before it consumed me more. I can move on now. I'm just going to do some work on my laptop back here." It was like a switch turned on inside you and you became cold.

Not letting the awkwardness of a now two hour flight ahead of you, you decided to bury yourself in work. Max was unaware of what you typed away on your computer was a letter of resignation something you sent right after separating ways at the airport.

You denied having a proper goodbye because you knew in the end you would have stayed. You love Max but you loved yourself enough to leave instead of hoping one day he would feel the same. Instead of trying everything you could do to get him to love you; you leave hoping you won't have to beg for your love to be reciprocated.

— CARLOS SAINZ JR. ⁵⁵

lovers to enemies wolff!reader

“Did you know?” Carlos questions you, entering the apartment slamming the door. His eyes filled with anger and a hint of sadness.

You smiled at him from the couch, “Hello to you too, grumpy. I don't know what you're talking about.” You say going back to your book.

“Y/n don't play dumb with me. I just got out of a meeting with the team, Lewis is taking my seat next year. You had to have known from your father. Why didn’t you tell me?” Carlos glares at you standing in front of you forcing to take your eyes off your book.

You sit him down next to you and continue, “Can you just try to remember that I’m his manager? We both signed nda's with Ferrari we couldn't tell anyone not even his family, Carlos please I really wanted to tell you but my job would be on the line i would have been fired and possibly sued if the news got out.” You grab his hands, begging him to look at you.

i couldn't tell you

“You…you’ve known all this time? And didn’t tell me?” His face flashes with hurt and you feel so much guilt being the reason he is feeling this way. You knew it was messed up not telling him but this was your job you had to be professional when it came to things like contracts. You hadn’t even told your Dad about it until Lewis was ready to confirm it to him,

“Lewis has been in talks with them for months but he and his agent handling it for that time because he knew how conflicting it would be for me knowing I would probably tell you. He didn’t tell me until a month ago when we had to go through his contract and what not. Baby, please I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t. But I promise all this will fix itself we have a plan!” You explain to him, the last sentence filled with hope and surprise for him but he’s too angry to see through that.

“Promise? You promises seem to have meant nothing as of now. You promised me a lot of things and have kept them but this one? Betraying me? You promised we would be truthful in our relationship turns out only I have been. I can't forgive this. I can’t forgive you.”

His next words hit you like a ton of bricks, “I’m done. Our relationship is done and I need you out of here by tonight. I’ll be back later tonight hopefully you’ll be gone by the time I am back.” He stands up grabbing his keys and you tug his hand back begging him to stay.

“Please please Carlos, I’m begging you you just listen to me. All this will make sense you just need to trust me, please? I love you and you love me—.”

“No. I don’t think I do anymore. Someone who loves me would have never done this to me. Have a great life.” He pushes your hand away and walks out not glancing back as you yell for him begging him to come back.

It took you a few hours to gather all your things taking a few breaks in between to stop yourself from crying but there was no use in that, if anyone saw your puffy read eyes they’d know immediately.

As you zip up your final suitcase you hear the door open and expecting to see Carlos coming into your bedroom you’re met with a blonde woman wrapped around him.

You clear your throat as they almost kiss in front of you and Carlos quickly turns to you not expecting you to still be here and his heart drops to his stomach, “What are you still doing here?” You scoff wiping your tears away, that’s all he had to say?

“Just finishing up. Charles said he will grab the rest of my bags tomorrow since I’m staying with him and Alexandra for now.” You tell him and grab your purse before taking the picture frame that was filled with collages of you and Carlos, taking it with you to the living room as Carlos follows after you.

You throw the picture frame into the trash can, “Why did you do that?” Carlos asks you.

You shrug pulling an envelope out of your purse, “Our relationship is done like you said. The decent thing you could have done is fucked someone at least 24 hours after we break up not three hours later. When you realize what you've lost you will fucking regret it all, Carlos. Have a good life.” You mimic his previous choose of words in your last sentence.

Shoving the envelope to his chest he watches you in confusion as to what it pertains, “Congrats.” You tell him walking out the door and out of his life not giving him a chance to ask anything.

It’s as if his heart felt you getting further and further away with every step his heart began to feel heavy. As he opens the envelope his heart stops seeing the words written in bold; CARLOS SAINZ JR. 2025 MERCEDES DRIVER CONTRACT & AGREEMENTS.

— CHARLES LECLERC ¹⁶

friends to lovers to strangers mexican!reader

FRIENDS.

Meeting Charles in 2019 at the Mexico City Grand Prix was one of your favorite moments you’ll ever have. Closing your world tour in your home country he and a few of the other drivers along with their girlfriends had gone to your closing night. You were a fan of the sport and more specifically a fan of the Ferrari driver.

Your team let you know he was out there which made you much more nervous but either way you killed it out there and made lots of eye contact with him. They go backstage per your request and you get along easily with everyone but it was Charles you connected with most.

Form then on you guys became an inseparable duo that the world shipped so much but you both always denied the dating rumors. Your friendship with Charles was purely platonic.

You both experienced each others best and worst moments personally but also career wise. Maybe that was one of the first things that made you both realize the platonic love you had might be a little more.

LOVERS.

You both had been in bed watching a movie one night when Charles finally made a move with a simple sweet kiss that turned to more later that night.

You were attached to each other even more now despite having busy schedules. You made it work and planned out your schedules to spend the most time you can together. It was perfect for the next three years and despite the small arguments you would have every now and then you guys always made up.

Charles was devoted to you. He would be exhausted from a race weekend but would get home excited to help you create new music. You’d be singing or on the guitar while he played the piano sharing ideas on what melody to use. He understood you so well. He knew every single thing about you even the smallest of details that you didn’t notice yourself.

You knew all his habits. The ones he had before and after racing. He’d go into a little mental bubble hours before a race trying his best to push himself to do his greatest. You knew he loved massages after a race so you’d always be waiting in his room to give him that. He adored the little notes you’d leave him in various spots where he could find them on different occasions while you are off touring.

Until one day, the loving touches and words of affirmation turned into bitter arguments and no loving touches at all.

“It’s over isn’t it?” You smiled at Charles as he holds onto you, he had been visiting for a few days during summer break but it was time to get back to work. You spent the days arguing a routine that you’ve both been getting used to now.

Questioning why he spent only a few days with you and spent most of the break with friends. He threw the argument back to why had you scheduled your tour dates around his break.

It had been the moment of realization for the two of you that you loved each other but you were no longer putting each other first. You didn’t act like lovers. You didn’t act like best friends. You acted more like strangers.

“I’m so sorry.” Charles apologizes, tears filling his eyes that match yours. You shake your head wiping his tears away and he mimics you, “I’m sorry. We both love each other but we stopped trying. We stopped taking care of each other…of our love.” You lean against his hands cupping your face.

This would be the last time you’d be in each others arms and you wanted to cherish it forever.

“I love you. I’ll always love you.” Charles chants, closing his eyes he says it repeatedly almost a if he were hoping to wake up from this nightmare.

“Te amo, Charles. Siempre.” Your lips meets his one last time savoring the moment for as long as you can until he is called over for his departing flight.

He walks away hoping maybe one day you could meet again and it would be a different story. Maybe your love story didn’t end here.

STRANGERS.

A year had passed and you’d been taking a much deserved break from singing. Enjoying life in Mexico exploring new spots and meeting new people. You made new friends but never forgot about the ones you made in the past.

The Mexico Grand Prix once again coming up this weekend and you had been invited by Red Bull Racing. An offer you didn’t decline wanting to support your fellow Mexican driver and friend Checo Perez but also to catch up with Max who you’d grown close to the last year.

Everyone in the paddock talked about your arrival and what was to be expected if you bumped into your former ex. You could care less what the media asked of you as you walked alongside Max and Kelly talking about your next album. As you walk your heart stops when you see Charles walking towards you with Carlos next to him eyeing the situation Kelly and Max doing the same with you.

But as you approach each other you simply stare straight ahead spying no attention to him and his teammate who give a quick wave to the couple next to you and continue walking past you.

No one else seemed to noticed your hand reaching for Charles as you walked by him, his hand reaching for yours as well. It felt like a force of habit. Maybe that’s why they reached for each other

But in the end they walked away as strangers.

Strangers with memories of each other.

— LANDO NORRIS ⁴

grumpy x sunshine pr!manager!reader

You weren’t sure why Lando had grown such a strong dislike from you since the moment you met. You were hired as his new PR manager for the 2022 season and you were the youngest member of the communications team but they didn’t underestimate you.

You proved yourself being Daniel Ricciardo’s PR manager for the 2022 season but after he left you were assigned to be Lando’s PR manager after his last one left the team.

Being in charge of Lando was…a mission.

It could have been easy if he didn’t treat you so terribly. He treated you as if you were a robot; pure work and no worry that his hurtful words affected you.

Despite the hurt he made you feel every day you spent together you still arrived to every race weekend with a smile. You played the part of the perfect PR manager despite the constant belittling of received from the McLaren driver.

But sooner or later that light would dim.

“She’s just aggravating. Always coming in with a smile and giving me advice on what I should do or say when I’m with the media.” Lando rants to Oscar as they sit in his drivers room waiting for interviews to begin.

“I mean…that’s technically her job.” Oscar defends you, he had grown close to you and your bubbly personality always lighting up a room. He wasn’t sure why Lando was so angry towards you.

Lando was fine with everyone else but you. He was a charming guy with a smile on his face but plenty did notice the scowl on his face that would cover his usual smile when he was around you.

He was cruel to you but for some fucked up reason you found yourself developing a crush on him. You weren’t sure why you liked him why every thought you had was about him. He was invading your mind and heart, even if he hated you.

You noticed the small things he enjoyed, like distressing with a good playlist after a race. He enjoyed finding new cameras to add to his collection. He wasn’t an avid drinker but did enjoy a vodka cran ever so often. He wouldn’t admit it but you could tell he was get homesick sometimes and wish his family were with him at every race.

So you made it your mission to FaceTime his family every weekend before and during a race. Whether he made it to the podium or not you’d hand your phone over to him so he can talk to his family. He had always assumed it was his family who asked you to do this gesture every race week but oh boy was he wrong.

You walk into the McLaren hospitality ready for the weekend with a plate of homemade cookies in your hand. You made sure to hand a cookie to everyone you said hello to until you arrived to the garage and saw Lando with his race engineer and Andrea beside them.

You approach them with a smile ready to offer them some cookies, “Hey guys, I made—.”

“Y/n can’t you see we’re busy right now? This is an actual job and we put time into it unlike yours you just tell me I need to smile and be fake, I got it. Let us be now.” Lando’s word spit out like venom intended to hurt you in every shape possible. His mind is telling him how fucked up that was but he was so stressed about his car that he didn’t realize it until it was too late and you had tears in your eyes.

“Right. Sorry.” You smile tearfully walking away quickly not having the chance to hear the two men next to Lando scolding him for treating you with such disrespect.

“Get that attitude fixed of yours against the girl, Lando. I’m not gonna deal with it any longer if you keep it up. She’s a great girl and has proven what a great job she does for this team and for you especially.”

Andrea’s words echo through his mind the entire race weekend and despite his cruel words towards you he noticed you still managed to put a smile on your face.

It was time to head out after scoring second place at the Chinese Grand Prix. Lando was looking around for you confused why you hadn’t been at the press conference and you had sent an intern instead.

He gets to his room hoping maybe you were in there and he was ready to apologize but found an empty room instead. A plate of cookies on his table and papers next to it, he approaches the table and looks at the small note on the plate of wrapped cookies, “asked your mom for her recipe since you said you missed her baking cookies for you. hope i do them justice <3”.

He felt guilt consume him realizing that your earlier gesture was made for him specifically and he had blown you off. His eyes look at the papers next to the plate and he sits on his chair in disbelief reading your letter of resignation papers. You quit on the spot and had already been long gone since the race began.

Good luck on the rest of your season, you’ll be a winner soon I’ll always believe in you.

He read the text over and over again that you had sent prior to leaving but he not seen it since he was racing. He spent the next week going back to the text and your note, you showed him so much kindness and all he ever was show you the opposite.

Arriving in Miami he didn’t realize how crucial your role was in guiding him with the media. The new PR manager wasn’t terrible but they weren’t like you. You still have him the liberty to be himself as he had the right to but this manager was useless.

The most unexpected part of this weekend was him finally winning his first ever Grand Prix in his career of being in Formula One. His heart beating with all the adrenaline running in his veins as he reaches his team celebrating with them.

But as he hugged everyone around him he looked around waiting for the one person he wanted to see and celebrate with; you.

It was all too late. He realized his feelings for you until you were gone and now here was begging to see you smiling face in the crowd.

Getting a small moment to himself he opened his phone and saw a text from you;

“Congrats. I knew this year would be yours. Keep on winning, future world champion.”

He didn’t deserve you not when his cruelty pushed you away and still somehow showed him the love he now wanted to give you.

#f1 amour works #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #max verstappen x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x mexican!reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc drabble #lando norris one shot #lando norris drabble #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz drabble #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen drabble #f1 one shot #f1 drabble #f1 x reader

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satoruhour · 2 years ago

Text

GO!

a/n: racer jjk men …….. mmgfnghgn..gg.f.. if u can tell i’ve never watched f&f, you would be correct. i only watched tokyo drift for research 😭 also im talking out of my ass by using random car terminology !!!! i don’t even know whether anything i said was possible so just close one eye please :3

warnings: essentially car sex & pet names & unprotected sex for everything, fingering, clit stimulation, praise, public sex, geto listens in on a call, riding, implied p → v penetration, implied creampie / breeding, implied threesome w/ stsg (gojo), clit stimulation, handjob, semi-public sex, p → v penetration, doggy, geto asks and then takes a pic of you, creampie / breeding (geto), praise, oral (f receiving), fingering, pleasure dom nanami, squirting, clit stimulation (nanami), age gap (reader’s early 20s, toji is forty), oral (m receiving) while driving, facefucking, semi-public sex, clit stimulation, daddy kink, implied p → v penetration (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

“my, my,” gojo smirks as he looks over to you in his 1999 Nissan Skyline R34 when your hand makes contact with his thigh, “couldn’t wait till we reached there?” on the way to the races that gojo loved to bring you to, it was a silent rule that gojo was one of the people that ruled the underground racing scene in tokyo — that means leaving his opponent sighing at the steering wheel and being the object of your kisses at the end of it.

gojo was talented, but he knew he wouldn’t sit well in the driver’s seat if he didn’t share the victory with you. the racer speeds at any opportunity, but today he takes the time to drive his baby just so he could have more time to fuck her.

sometimes gojo rubs off on you in terms of disposition, because you’ve become fairly good with composing yourself into times of tribulation with your constantly-horny boyfriend. your calmness could be commended, but your breaths still give off your aroused state, his fingers continuing to draw a faint line up your legs which are rubbing and squeezing against each other. even with the aircon on full blast, you still feel undeniably hot.

“so wet…” gojo hums as his hand feels the wet patch that’s pooling in your panties before slipping it to the side, driving unaffected while he keeps his eyes on the road. he’s fucked you so many times already, memorised the feel of your body that it doesn’t take him much to insert his fingers and find that sweet spot. you squeal, hands flying to grab at his forearm. your pussy clenches around his fingers, and it makes him hum, pushing him to adjust his pelvis in his seat. no doubt your cute sounds are affecting him.

“s-satoru! the race?” you panic and hope to distract his attention elsewhere, but gojo’s a master at multitasking.

“what’re you talking about? we’re on the way, princess.” he’s right, taking you through the familiar streets of shinjuku before switching to a lane that takes the car into an underground tunnel. it’s a route you can remember, but you hardly give a shit currently where you can feel your juices pool below you.

“sato—” you whine, your squeezing thighs doing nothing to deter him, “your s-seat’s getting soaked.”

“s’fine, i’ll clean it up later,” gojo grins, sparing you a quick glance where he likes you the most: lips parted with moans escaping, knuckles white from clutching onto the seat and your pussy leaking your juices all over his palm. “c’mon, you’re a good girl, aren’t you? don’t you want to cum?” gojo knows all of your habits, so he taunts you, teases you by slowing down his fingers just a little and plays with your clit. a ringtone doesn’t distract him, easily accepting the call from his phone on the dashboard.

there’s a soft on the way? from the caller, seemingly whispering into the phone like he was hiding from something and you’re struggling to keep from moaning too loud by keeping a hand to your mouth. you’re hyperfocused on your boyfriend’s fingers that you don’t exactly hear what they’re talking about, but you do faintly make it out to be geto on the other end. you’re so close that you might’ve left bruises on gojo’s forearm.

“satoru, you might wanna camp out in a nearby parking lot before comin’ over. officers are patrolling around the starting line.” it wasn’t weird for races to be pushed back, by engines malfunctioning, by police officers doing their nightly patrol but while the black-haired racer is just a little agitated at the delay, you’re surprised to see your boyfriend sporting a shit-eating smile.

“good, that just means i have more time,” gojo pauses to groan when you start to clench around his fingers. he knows you’re close and you want to fucking kill him when he easily reaches the spot that has you seeing stars, all the while having his best friend on the line, “to fuck my lovely girlfriend.”

“oh f-fuck… satoru! ’m cumming mmf…!” you don’t bother holding back on your mewls and whimpers, then, not exactly caring if geto hears cause he’s shared you with him before. gojo fingers you through your orgasm, your pupils blown wide and jaw dropping as you seek refuge in the hot pink seats gojo got for you while you continue to cry out his name.

within minutes, he’s pulling into an abandoned parking lot and swerving the car into a secluded spot before making use of the modification he made to his Skyline, reclining his driver’s seat (courtesy of your suggestion and he was driving off to the mechanic the next day) and beckoning you over with a smile.

you could only return his sly smile as he removes his pants, cock already hard and weeping from its tip from all the teasing he’s done to you, hard from knowing he’s the only one to get you moaning like a bitch in heat. and when you sink down easily, it’s like heaven on earth, the adrenaline giving the both of you a high.

it’s no surprise when gojo easily wins the race later, receiving you with open arms and a sloppy kiss, all while his cum’s leaking from your panties and your cunt still feels a little empty — so when you both receive a message from geto asking for a late-night drive with just the three of you, you’re quick to leave the scene to get stuffed full again.

✶ GETO

“suguru!” you smile as you enter the garage that’s housed suguru’s cars since he was a high school student, the familiar gold and black accents spread throughout the large space. he was lucky to have a father who’s a manufacturer, and despite the many engines and parts he’s gone through, it was a wonder his dad hasn’t exactly uncovered his rising fame in the tokyo racing scene, even if he comes home with some cuts and a roughed up car to match.

“hey princess,” he calls out, still focused on the minute parts of the 13B-REW engine and switching out his outdated intercooler for the Blitz, something that he had to persuade his father with with good grades and exemplary behaviour in his after school activities. “just making some changes to the Mazda. how’s my baby doin’— oh wow.”

your immediate reaction is to grin at him, heat blooming throughout your face as you descend the steps to where his vehicles were, sporting a cute little miniskirt and knee high boots. it’s not that you haven’t dressed like this before, but every time you do, it manages to make his breath hitch. that’s not the main attractive point today, though, eyes dropping to the fat of your thigh where a new tattoo had found its home — a black widow weaving chinese knots and it looks so damn good on you that your boyfriend wastes no time in removing the hood strut and slamming the hood close.

you don’t usually sit on his 1997 Veilside Mazda RX-7 much, but geto is determined to change that when you’re propped up like a doll on the sleek black design of the car, wandering hands slipping under your skirt as you’re humming into the deepening kiss. the other groans against your lips when he finds your clit, rubbing languid circles into it and you spread your legs further to accommodate his fingers, exposing your neck for his lips to suck on while his free hand gets busy with your perky tits.

“you’re so… fuckin’ wet,” geto mumbles into your neck, stifling your moans with yet another kiss. the way he’s rubbing at your bundle of nerves is so distinct, you couldn’t even replicate it if you tried, usually left dissatisfied after cumming on your own fingers. “my pretty angel.”

“yeah? you like me on your Mazda?” you say with a lilt to your voice, and although the pet names bring another wave of shyness and fire to your cheeks, your hands speak otherwise as they trail down his torso to the trousers he’s got on. it’s you against him to see who makes the other break first — geto moans when you fish out his dick, already semi-hard from all the teasing and your hand’s warm like how your pussy usually feels, stroking him in a pace that matches the hand on your clit.

“fucking love you on it,” geto laughs breathlessly, hot breath fanning against your lips and hips bucking into your palm, “love your hands on my cock, too.”

“ditto, baby,” you reply in a breathy whimper, but geto mutters something else along the lines of too bad i need my cock in you now before a surprised yelp leaves you when you’re flipped over suddenly. with hands flat on the hood and a knee propped up, he’s careful not to bring any discomfort to your new tattoo. bit by bit, he’s sheathing himself into your dripping cunt, pleas and obscenities flooding the spacious garage as you beg him to move.

your boyfriend’s a racer, ’course he knows how to do that, but he takes pride in teasing you, letting you feel every last bit of his dick as he bottoms out. “suguru… fuck me, please.”

“planning on it — shit, you’re so tight — let me enjoy your cute lil pussy for a bit, princess.” geto has both hands move down the expanse of your back, appreciating your attractive arch, and then then down to your ass and folds where he’s filling you with his fat cock. and when he starts to move, your mewls become incomprehensible and your fingers grasp at anything, but you’re afraid of scratching the smooth finishing of his Mazda, settling for holding onto his forearms.

“suguruuu… oh my g-god!” you love the way your obscene noises fill the space, juices flowing freely down your thighs as the other finds a steady pace. “right there— f-fuck…”

geto is no different, hypnotised with how his length disappears into your heat that he doesn’t notice your twitching body, but he still knows you’re close by how your clamp around him like a vice, pussy tightening up to make sure he gives you all his cum. by this time, you’re delirious from the squelching noises of your cunt and the slap of his hips into yours that your orgasm comes unexpectedly.

“cumming, cumming, suguru—!” your thighs shake and shiver through the euphoric feeling, still riding the wave of the orgasm before geto wraps his arms tight around your middle, mumbling confessions into your ears until he’s spilling deep into you, too. geto cums so much, and you moan at the feeling of being filled up, body slumping forward. between geto’s help and an aching question, you’re content to lay on the stunning car as he snaps a photo of you before cleaning you up.

it’s not until later when you’re at getting pounded again by him when you see his phone screen light up — the screensaver photo being the one of you on his car with legs pried open and cum spilling out your pretty pussy — that you know you’ve got geto wrapped around your finger.

✶ NANAMI

“mr. nanami?” your father calls out in the deserted shop, empty apart from the clang of metal against metal and the late night radio droning on about some love story sent in by a listener. despite how it’s almost 11 at night, your father was always happy to help with people’s cars due to a love for them since he was young.

even if that someone’s car was a 1968 Dodge Charger with a LS3 engine that he only knew the US had. when he comes around the back, he merely rubs his fingers together.

“this guy’s got money money,” you burst out laughing, landing a hit on your dad’s shoulder at his comment, but he wasn’t exactly wrong. looking out from the supply room, the man standing near the entrance of the shop looked exactly like the part: rich, tall, blonde, hot, and donning an annoyed look as he scolds someone named gojo who’s on the other line.

there’s a firm expression set into his features before he lunges forward at the sound of his surname and his pondering expression melts away to make way for a smile, and you swear you feel your knees buckle. but you have no time for daydreaming, also emerging from the room to collect money and complete the transaction like you usually do with clients.

“my daughter here will take your payment,” the older man nods his head toward you after explaining the changes he made to the engine, specifically the crankshaft which contained newer journals with older webs — this particular combination made the oil system faulty and rigid, and even for a tamer temper like nanami’s, it still irritated him to no end when the Dodge Charger wouldn’t start properly.

this would’ve been a piece of cake to solve, though, if it wasn’t for your dad’s japan-only parts, which function minutely different to american engines. so your dad had promised another day to fix nanami’s car after the parts had arrived, even refusing to accept nanami’s apologies and offers to pay for the america-based engine the first time he came to you guys.

it’s like the initial demeanour had faded, bowing profusely at the kind-hearted nature of your dad and he waves it off, passing it off as a passion that still burned strong within him; he only wrote a receipt for the repair of the engine, after all.

“collect the nice man’s payment and close up shop, okay?” your father places a kiss to your template and bids farewell to nanami as well who’s feeling still a little flustered, “i’ll head off to bed first.”

“thank you, truly,” nanami bowed again to you as he felt around for his card, producing a black card for you to process the transaction.

“it’s nothin’. dad’s usually like that, always so generous with his services and then blames it on his passion,” you laugh a little and nanami does too.

“i understand, tell him thank you again.”

you shoot him a thumbs up and a smile, handing him back his card with clammy palms and fidgety fingers. you both know you’re not exactly ready to say goodbye to this fine-ass man so you strike up conversation with a terribly stupid opener.

“so… you drive?”

“i would think so,” nanami chuckles as he makes his way over to his Dodge Charger, loving the way you almost want to dig yourself a hole from what you asked, “i race. actually.”

and you swear you can hear the pulse in your pussy quicken, swallowing a lump in your throat at the vision of being spread out on the hood of nanami’s car, blonde head of hair hidden between your legs.

you just didn’t know that vision would come true today; well — tomorrow, since one question led to a conversation past twelve, led to advances from the both of you and now you’re moaning out nanami’s name as your sensitive core is being devoured by the racer, kneeling at the front of his own car like the hood of his car is your throne.

you voice your concerns about being ate out so shamelessly with the garage door open, voice breaking as he eats and laps at your dripping cunt like a starved man, sucking hard on your clit as he plays with your hole, teasing his thick fingers around your entrance just enough for it to clench around nothing.

“it’s past 12, don’t worry your pretty little head about someone watching,” he reassures you, palms spread out against your stomach. “plus, you taste divine,” nanami groans from your core before he plunges a finger into you, causing you to jerk in shock at the intrusion — it’s so good you forget about your worries. “so tight too, shit.”

“nanami…” you drag out the last bits of his name in a whine, hips bucking up to take in more of his needy tongue and his replied hum sends vibrations throughout your body. you’re so wet that you’re able to take another finger. “just like that. oh my god, your t-tongue.” your hand naturally pulls at his blonde locks, pushing him deeper into your centre; he likes it, squeezing your ass in the process.

“can i cum, nanami?” you plead for it, the unexpected obedience has nanami reeling and he gives you the green light.

“’course you can, such a good girl, aren’t you?” the shop is filled with your moans and the dirty, sopping sounds of your pussy as he flicks his tongue, memorising the way your thighs clench around his head and how sweet you smell and taste. he’s definitely not letting this pussy go, “good girls get to cum.”

“i’m gonna— ooh shiitt…” nanami lets your hips go on their own accord and another groan from the racer is enough to have you cumming on his fingers and tongue, “fuuck, i’m cumming-!” he praises you like you’re his royalty while you gush all over him, squirting your release all over his face as he happily downs your juices like he’s done it before. he’s sure to do it again in the future.

“attagirl,” both the metal of his car and his affectionate names for you sends tremors throughout your body and legs, orgasming so hard you see white and it’s clear he enjoys giving head like his life depended on it.

you catch your breath briefly, brushing your fingers through his hair and admiring the sight before you until he returns to his intimidating and looming height, helping you to sit up and patting your thigh affectionately

“hope that’s enough payment for the parts. or would you prefer instalments instead?” he says the cheesy line with such a calm face you’d think he was in a business meeting, but the stoicism makes you stifle a giggle.

it’s not long before you’re returning your dad the money nanami had insisted on, but more importantly, being all dolled up in the passenger seat, his teasing hand on your thigh and a full pretty lace set underneath your miniskirt.

✶ TOJI

it’s not uncommon to find a veteran on the racing scene. fushiguro toji had his time of fame in the 80s, but now he’s back for more after fathering a whole child — something his close friends back then didn’t think he could do. it was an endearing sight, a large, burly man carrying something as precious as megumi but it didn’t halt his drifting trips on the mountains, taking his 1966 Chevrolet Corvette for a ride every time he needed to clear his mind; on a less safer note, megumi as a toddler was sometimes in the passenger seat.

megumi was already set to follow in his footsteps the moment he was born, showing a keen interest in cars more than robots or barbies (toji did buy one when megumi reached for a doll dressed in all black, though) and that only increased when he accompanied his dad on his drift trips, many times imagining himself in front of the wheel, gliding through the corners easily. even if the corvettes in the 60s weren’t exactly drifting material, he learned to do it perfect. plus, it still held memories for toji.

“who’s that?” your friend could hardly stop her jaw from hitting the floor after her comment, clearly a little flustered at seeing a forty year old stroll through the underground car parks like he owned the place. he did, 20 years ago, but his name seems to still precede him when hushed whispers and murmurs follow him. although he’s here to support his son’s first drifting race, he’s still fairly popular to be getting enquiries from curious mechanics and avid car enjoyers.

“megumi’s dad,” you grin with a hidden sense of satisfaction, because you didn’t just know him from afar. how his hips swayed when he walked or how he loved that stupid compression shirt, that was everyone’s perception of him, but you knew how his hips felt as it grinded against you. you always never fail to recall the raspiness of his voice against your ears as he mumbled the dirtiest things, only for you to hear. it’s why you revel in the way your friend’s jaw drop past the concrete into hell when the older man catches your eye (he always liked to look for you in crowds), and winks, prompting the gossip to only increase in volume.

“you’re in cahoots with megumi’s dad?” you didn’t care much if people suspected something going on between the two of you. even megumi didn’t exactly care, who was a few years younger than you in his last year of high school. he was content enough that his dad wasn’t alone after giving so much of him to raise megumi. anyway, you always had his trust fund to rely on and if anyone fucked you as good at toji did, you wouldn’t give two shits either way.

“hey doll,” toji’s grin matches yours, planting a sloppy kiss to your temple as you both wait at his Corvette, all roughed up from the race the day before. he hasn’t had time to fix it up, driving the familiar route to the mechanics before you sent him a text about how megumi’s got challenged to a race by some newbie at school — it was laughable so much so that it even prompted toji to use those emojis he hated so much.

it was a race worth seeing, especially if one of the contestants was the tokyo drifting king’s son. toji doesn’t need to say much, waving off megumi with a salute before the countdown begins like clockwork. the increasing revs of their engines draw you from your stupor, the newbie looking wrongfully excited despite the failure that’ll befall him in a few minutes. once go is signalled, they take off, giggling at you feel toji’s arm curl around your waist.

“he’ll win,” he’s as nonchalant as they come, but it rings true when he’s the one who had megumi going 15 rounds ’round the docks and mountains every week. with screeching tires, a RB26DETT engine and years of drifting lessons to back him up, megumi finishes the race first. he rolls his eyes when his friends and fans crowd his car like moths to a flame, but he can’t help shoot a wave to his father who smiles genuinely. it was unspoken that megumi was silently thanking him inside, before he drives off to celebrate the easy win.

“c’mon, baby. we’ve had our share. say goodbye like a good girl,” you pull your friend into a side hug who’s still barely able to wrap her head around the two of you, but she’s able to muster a brief goodbye before the rev of his Corvette draws eyes once again, speeding off into the night. it’s clear toji’s on a high from watching his son race and win, seeing it in the way he goes full throttle past shibuya square and down inokashira street with a laugh.

the fire in his eyes, the coy grin he’s got on reminds you of times you’ve experienced the feeling of toji deep in you, clutching onto the sheets on the tatami mats and face shoved into the pillow as he bullies his fat cock into you. the thoughts have you feeling up his thigh, and he doesn’t notice your wandering, needy hands until they come incredibly close to his cock. he shifts gears before grasping onto your wrist, shooting you a look of warning.

but you do anything but listen, rejoicing in your small victory when you feel the car slow down from his speeding spree so it’s safe for you. palming his bulge, you gasp at how hard he already is and he adjusts his lower half, clearly uncomfortable with his tightening pants.

“let me make you feel good, toji,” you mumble, hands fumbling with his belt and zipper before you pull his dick from his boxers, looking so pretty with its mushroom tip that leaks pre-cum. toji pulls lightly on your hair as a second warning before you’re able to twist your body to lean down, eyes flitting up to look at him in faux apology. “sorry, daddy.”

toji sighs once your mouth descends on his cock, eyebrows furrowed and hand squeezing your nape in pleasure. no matter how many times you get his length in his mouth, the size always catches you off guard and it causes you to choke when the car runs over a speedbump. you have to take a second to cough.

“sorry, babylove,” you wordlessly shake your head as a way to say it’s okay, because toji takes care of you without you needing to ask him; it’s only fair he deserves his own fair share of care too. “but your mouth— shit. feels so fuckin’ good on daddy’s cock.”

you suck in your cheeks and pump the places where your mouth can’t reach, sides already aching from the uncomfortable position but you continue to bob your head. toji’s groans and bucking hips has got you soaking your panties, spit and pre-cum dribbling down the sides of his length and you waste no time to lick a stripe to clean up, settling for circling your tongue around his tip.

toji moans out with a number of profanities and a fist tightly clenched around the steering wheel — your mouth is so soft and warm that he decides that he needs to pull over at a quiet parking lot behind a bar so he can focus on fucking your mouth and imagine it’s your tight pussy he’s plunging into, not that he has to imagine. your lips are still on him when the car halts and you feel more stable than ever, both hands pulling apart his thighs to take him deeper into your mouth.

“cock’s so big,” you babble and ramble like a little slut, slurping up your messy job with the help of your hands. just like your walls, the ridges along your mouth feel lovely and when his tip meets the back of your throat, he throws his head back. “need your cum down my throat…”

“yeah?” toji breathes out, hands tangling themselves in your hair before tapping your skull, a discussed rule for the two of you: two taps on your head when he wants to facefuck you, and two taps on his thigh if you can’t breathe. “i’ll have ta fuck your little whore mouth first, can daddy do that?”

you nod lazily, steadying yourself on the compartment housing the stick shift before his hips lift off the seat and he starts a pace that even he can’t keep up for long. one look at your cute doe eyes has got him whining and mumbling about how pretty you look right now, clutching on your head so hard that it has his knuckle turning white.

toji’s thighs are flexing and contracting from the movement, but you can point out when he starts to fumble and tremble at the mercy of your mouth. his thrusts are getting sporadic, just like how you’re reaching your limit, too, tears forming at the corners of your eyes. “g’nna cum down your throat, baby, ya want that?”

you sound a hum of agreement before toji’s hips still and he shoots his load down your throat, thick blobs of cum that spill from his tip, “that’s it, doll, take it all like a good slut,” and you swallow at least twice to get it all down. you show him a small amount of cum left on your tongue before he brings you up to kiss you harshly, giving your ass a firm smack and then you’re plopping down onto the seat again, wiping the side of your mouth like a good meal well devoured.

the wind is immediately knocked out of you as he brings up the speed with a hand inching towards your core, and you’re so glad he’s switched out his 327 small-block for a 427 V8 engine, the lampposts speeding past you and his fingers playing with your cunt enough to give you an adrenaline high to last throughout the night, cause toji’s far from done with you.

okay i digress. / pt. 2 here

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