#I Win Golf Clubs
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valeriehalla · 5 months ago
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actual writing advice
1. Use the passive voice.
What? What are you talking about, “don’t use the passive voice”? Are you feeling okay? Who told you that? Come on, let’s you and me go to their house and beat them with golf clubs. It’s just grammar. English is full of grammar: you should go ahead and use all of it whenever you want, on account of English is the language you’re writing in.
2. Use adverbs.
Now hang on. What are you even saying to me? Don’t use adverbs? My guy, that is an entire part of speech. That’s, like—that’s gotta be at least 20% of the dictionary. I don’t know who told you not to use adverbs, but you should definitely throw them into the Columbia river.
3. There’s no such thing as “filler”.
Buddy, “filler” is what we called the episodes of Dragon Ball Z where Goku wasn’t blasting Frieza because the anime was in production before Akira Toriyama had written the part where Goku blasts Frieza. Outside of this extremely specific context, “filler” does not exist. Just because a scene wouldn’t make it into the Wikipedia synopsis of your story’s plot doesn’t mean it isn’t important to your story. This is why “plot” and “story” are different words!
4. okay, now that I’ve snared you in my trap—and I know you don’t want to hear this—but orthography actually does kind of matter
First of all, a lot of what you think of as “grammar” is actually orthography. Should I put a comma here? How do I spell this word in this context? These are questions of orthography (which is a fancy Greek word meaning “correct-writing”). In fact, most of the “grammar questions” you’ll see posted online pertain to orthography; this number probably doubles in spaces for writers specifically.
If you’re a native speaker of English, your grammar is probably flawless and unremarkable for the purposes of writing prose. Instead, orthography refers to the set rules governing spelling, punctuation, and whitespace. There are a few things you should know about orthography:
English has no single orthography. You already know spelling and punctuation differ from country to country, but did you know it can even differ from publisher to publisher? Some newspapers will set parenthetical statements apart with em dashes—like this, with no spaces—while others will use slightly shorter dashes – like this, with spaces – to name just one example.
Orthography is boring, and nobody cares about it or knows what it is. For most readers, orthography is “invisible”. Readers pay attention to the words on a page, not the paper itself; in much the same way, readers pay attention to the meaning of a text and not the orthography, which exists only to convey that meaning.
That doesn’t mean it’s not important. Actually, that means it’s of the utmost importance. Because orthography can only be invisible if it meets the reader’s expectations.
You need to learn how to format dialogue into paragraphs. You need to learn when to end a quote with a comma versus a period. You need to learn how to use apostrophes, colons and semicolons. You need to learn these things not so you can win meaningless brownie points from your English teacher for having “Good Grammar”, but so that your prose looks like other prose the reader has consumed.
If you printed a novel on purple paper, you’d have the reader wondering: why purple? Then they’d be focusing on the paper and not the words on it. And you probably don’t want that! So it goes with orthography: whenever you deviate from standard practices, you force the reader to work out in their head whether that deviation was intentional or a mistake. Too much of that can destroy the flow of reading and prevent the reader from getting immersed.
You may chafe at this idea. You may think these “rules” are confusing and arbitrary. You’re correct to think that. They’re made the fuck up! What matters is that they were made the fuck up collaboratively, by thousands of writers over hundreds of years. Whether you like it or not, you are part of that collaboration: you’re not the first person to write prose, and you can’t expect yours to be the first prose your readers have ever read.
That doesn’t mean “never break the rules”, mind you. Once you’ve gotten comfortable with English orthography, then you are free to break it as you please. Knowing what’s expected gives you the power to do unexpected things on purpose. And that’s the really cool shit.
5. You’re allowed to say the boobs were big if the story is about how big the boobs were
Nobody is saying this. Only I am brave enough to say it.
Well, bye!
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crookedteethed · 2 months ago
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18+ -mdni
ᥫ᭡. jj shoots, he scorns
pairing: rafe x kook!jj x fem! reader
warnings: very little smut (piv), public sex, cheating, language, plot with little porn, hecka tension, blossoming love triangle, fuckboy! jj
⌞ series masterlist ⌝ ⌞ I ⌝
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Rafe held his breath, waiting for the swift swing of JJ's golf club to connect with the small white ball. The anticipation built as JJ pulled back, his muscles tense and ready to strike.
And then, with a powerful release, the club whooshed through the air, followed by an explosive shout of "Yo, Maybank!" from Rafe.
The sudden noise caused the young boy to jump in startled surprise, causing him to miss his shot at the golf hole. The sound of the club hitting the ground echoed through the quiet course, as JJ turned to face Rafe with a mix of annoyance and amusement on his face.
"Jesus Christ, Rafe! I could've made that shot!"
Rafe clicks his teeth, knowing damn well that his friend wasn't as good as a golf player as him.
"You been avoiding me, man?" Rafe asks, slowly approaching Jay, his golf club balancing on his muscular shouldar blades.
"Nope, nah man," JJ said, avoiding Rafe's glower, tongue poking out the side of his mouth, positioning his body to make another shit shot.
JJ swishes, he doesn't score.
"Shit." Jay curses. "Can you maybe back up some? You're ruining my mojo. I was doing good before you got here."
Rafe nods, scooting back, so JJ could make another shitty shot.
"So, if you're not avoiding me, then why haven't you been answering my calls or texts?"
Jay's eyes practically sparkled as he shrugged nonchalantly, his voice dripping with arrogant confidence.
"I live a fast-paced life, you know? Running my father's successful inns, cruising around in my shiny new Bently and indulging in all sorts of pleasures…like my girl, whom I love to fuck in my luxurious car. I also started seeing this new piece on the side, too, and fuck, does she have the cutest ass."
He twirled his golf club expertly and with perfect aim, sinking the shot flawlessly. Turning to Rafe with a smug grin, he challenged him with a triumphant glint in his eye. "See that? That's what winning looks like, my friend."
Rafe grits his teeth, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he decides to join in on the fun and play some golf too.
"Do I know her?" Rafe's voice drips with arrogance and entitlement as he positions himself to swing the golf club.
"Do you know who?" JJ steps up behind him, watching his friend pull back his arms for the swing.
Rafe's ball flies through the air, landing perfectly in the hole. He turns to JJ with a self-satisfied smirk, daring him to match the shot.
"New piece of ass, huh?" Rafe's tone is lecherous and degrading.
"She's no one important," JJ shrugs nonchalantly. "Just a pouge girl."
Rafe's lips curl into a sneer. "Always chasing after those lower-class runts, aren't you?"
"You know me," JJ says defensively. But deep down, he knows Rafe is right.
Rafe smirks as he watches JJ approach the patch of grass, ready to take his swing. "It's nice to know you're not avoiding me," Rafe says with false sincerity. "Because if I didn't know any better, I would think you were mad at me all because I kissed your precious girlfriend."
JJ tenses, his grip on the golf club tightening until his knuckles turn white. "What?" he snarls in a high-pitched voice. "Mad at you? For kissing y/n?" He scoffs and takes another swing, barely making it to the hole thanks to the strong wind.
"Besides," JJ continues with a coldness in his tone, "I got the pouge girl, too now, remember?”
It's Rafe's turn to swing now, but he forfeits and turns to JJ with a sly grin.
"So, you wouldn't mind if I started messing around with y/n then?" Rafe taunts, knowing that mentioning y/n hits a nerve in JJ.
JJ's jaw clenches, his blue eyes flashing with barely contained rage. He takes a step towards Rafe, golf club still gripped tightly in his hand. "You stay away from her," he growls, his voice low and dangerous.
Rafe's grin widens, sensing he's struck a nerve. "Oh? And why should I? You just said you didn't care."
"I don't," JJ insists, but his voice wavers slightly. "I just... I don't want her mixed up with someone like you."
Rafe chuckles, taking a step closer to JJ. They're almost nose to nose now, the tension between them palpable. "Someone like me? And what exactly am I like, Jay?"
JJ's jaw clenches and his eyes narrow to slits as he stares at Rafe with seething anger. "You are a manipulative, entitled asshole who thinks he is always right--"
"Is that why y/n chose to be with you then, a serial cheater?" Rafe sneers, his eyebrows furrowed in disdain.
The tension between them escalates until they are standing nose to nose, their once friendly game of golf forgotten as their friendship shatters in the heat of their rage. The air crackles with animosity as they exchange heated insults, each determined to prove their superiority over the other.
Rafe's eyes bore into JJ's with a razor-sharp intensity, daring him to continue their verbal sparring match. But Rafe knew he had the upper hand and decided to call it quits before things escalated further.
"As much as I'd love to keep going, I've got more important things to do," Rafe sneered. "Like getting ready for the party I'm throwing tonight--and don't worry, I already invited your princess, y/n. Maybe you should bring your pouge girl along too, just so I can have a turn with her."
The words dripped with malice and a twisted desire for control as Rafe grinned wickedly.
JJ stood at the top of the steep golf hill, gripping his golf club tightly as he watched his best friend Rafe walk away. His mind was flooded with thoughts of hitting Rafe in the back of his buzzed head with the club, but something held him back. It wasn't worth it.
As he gazed down at the rolling green hills and peaceful scenery, JJ couldn't help but feel a stab of jealousy. Rafe always seemed to have everything handed to him on a silver platter, including you, Jay's girlfriend.
JJ knew how dangerous it could get when something stood in Rafe's way. Their friendship had already been tested once before, and that ended in bloodshed. But this time, it was different. This time, JJ had some poor broad to fuck and fall back on while Rafe would get to fuck the girl Jay actually wanted—you.
As he made his way back to his Bentley parked in the Country Club's lot, JJ's urge to golf had been replaced by an overwhelming feeling of dread. He needed to call you and break things off before Rafe got his hands on you.
But when he tried calling and texting you, there was no response. JJ began to panic, wondering if you were okay. You always made his calls and texts a priority, so why weren't you answering now?
He called again and still no answer. That's when JJ decided he would break up with you at Rafe's party tonight.
Little did he know, while he was too busy trying to reach you, you were busy bouncing on Rafe's cock in the only rocking Black Jaguar in the parking lot.
"Did you tell him?" You panted, your body pressed against the car ceiling as Rafe thrust into you relentlessly.
"No," Rafe groaned, "Not yet. But who cares? JayJay wouldn't even give a damn."
Your heart sank at his words. You didn't like the idea of cheating on JJ, but you couldn't resist Rafe's charm and touch.
"We have to tell him," you whimpered, trying to slow down Rafe's movements.
But of course, he only went faster. "He doesn't deserve you," Rafe growled, gripping your hips tightly as he pushed deeper into you.
You both stayed silent for a while, consumed by pleasure and guilt. But as you both reached your highs, Rafe promised that you would tell JJ tonight at his party.
As you lay in silence afterwards, caressed by Rafe's hand, you couldn't help but wonder how this night would end- with bloodshed or forgiveness.
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a/n: thank you all for making it to the end, as per usual reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! 🫶🏾
taglist:
@alexxavicry @nemesyaaa @rafestoothbrush @trapistani @theeternaloptimistt @scne-vampire @lilithblackkk @cryinghorny @futuremrscameron @littlelamy @elmolovesw33d @faephoria
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strawberrystrangers · 8 months ago
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Do you think JJ would constantly stay over at readers house bc he feels safe there compared to his own??
🦋anon
I love this!! I also kind of love the idea of the reader having accepting parents too bc that scene with Kiara’s hurt hurt!!
This literally just became a “please let JJ have a win with a girlfriend’s family who actually loves him” write-up…
Yeah he loved the independence that the chateau gave him, but your house had the company and it had the warmth of family. Your parents have stern rules about bedroom etiquette but they’ve practically given him the spare room whenever.
He definitely swings by after altercations with his dad; he’s been walking the street for hours trying to get the courage to ask if he can see you (& he does this every time, even after the 50th visit) because his insecurity is so deeply rooted in feeling like a burden (fuck you, Luke) to everyone.
So when he says he should go, because he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome, you’re always responding to it with “please stay” and not a “you can stay if you want” knowing he needs the clarifying reassurance that you want him there.
You’ll ask your parents downstairs if he can stay, and they’re always happy to say yes.
Your dad will talk to him in the kitchen while he’s making the dinner, and JJ helps with his experience from his summer jobs in the golf club kitchen. Your dad will never fail to find out how bad the altercation was, and give gentle advice and care and love and reassurance to jj, emphasising that he’s always welcome and never alone. Your dad is basically the Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting to Matt Damon. Your dad will hug him for as long as JJ needs it and there’s a few shared tears between them.
At dinner, your parents are always so interested in what JJ’s been up to—and when he divulges about the gold and his adventures, they believe him and want to hear more. They always make him feel like they see potential in him and that he’s not destined to be like his father & that his name isn’t tainted with a pre-made future.
JJ will talk mechanics with your mum, she’ll ask him if he knows what’s up with their car and he’ll go on this whole nerd talk about it.
He’ll help clean up: he washes the dishes and you dry them while your parents sit at the table still, sipping beer or martinis.
The recurring thought they always have, and the recurring thing they’ll always tell JJ is: “you have the kindest soul who has found it’s other half in our daughter” and they always make it clear that they’d rather him with you—a Pogue with gentleness—than the boys who attempt to butter them up—Kooks with misogynistic views.
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bth3cowboi · 5 months ago
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snoop the memories, cs55 x reader
part 1 part 2 part 3
masterlist
pairing: carlos sainz x driver!reader
summary: back in time to first race wins and secret relationships that aren’t so secret. The beginning of snoopy carlos!
format: social meadia au
a/n: snoopy carlos is back!!!! and also carlos to Williams wtf...
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( twitter )
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( instagram )
ynraces
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liked by f1, charles_leclerc and 2.234.678 others
ynraces thank you spain!!!! thank you team!!!! thank you mom!!!! now i can say im a race winner!!!!
this one is for yall and my bestie snoopyyy... and for the haters I WON AND YOU SUCKKKK
comments have been restricted
carlossainz55 👏👏
f1 our most awaited winner👏🎉
carlossainz55 4h
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ynraces 1h
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( twitter )
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( instagram )
carlossainz55
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liked by scuderiaferrari, ynraces and 1.633.298 others
carlossainz55 Nothing beats getting driven through Barcelona by an F1 winner. Congrats guapita, you are the best 🎉🎊🏎️
Now en español, te amo guapa! Eres la mejor, a por más👏
see all comments
ynraces te amo🙏❤️ thank uuu
carlossainz55 ❤️❤️
user1 nahh this is mad
user2 that twitter user wasnt crazy😭😭
landonorris 😢
user3 i can only think of conflicts of interests lol
user4 expected and cute!!! congrats
f1 nothing to see😎 just a couple of winners
ynraces
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liked by landonorris, f1 and 1.856.847 others
ynraces I just came for the free drinks and to show off my new skirt 😚💖 watching the golf gang was just a bonus
comments have been restricted
carlossainz55 best golf caddie😘
landonorris she literally threw a golf club at me
carlossainz55 she’s helping me against the enemy
landonorris 🤬
ynraces cry abt it and check your texts
landonorris STOP SENDING ME PHOTOS OF LOSER SNOOPY
——
a/n: this is short but snoopy is back!!!❤️❤️ if you want to read more snoopy carlos just give me ideas through my asks!!
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xneens · 6 months ago
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golf lesson
you distract rafe during a golf lesson.
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"How important is winning this bet with your brother for you?" Rafe asked, watching as you hit the ball right into the lake, the ball nearly hitting a duck.
You glance at him, biting your lip. "Am I that bad?"
He turned to look back at the holes on the grass where you had hit your club, the iron kicking up the freshly mown grass rather than the ball on the tee. The blond bites back his smile, turning back at you, shrugging. "No, you're doing great, baby."
Groaning, you lean against your golf club, annoyed and frustrated. "Ugh, how am I so bad at a game old men play? This is humiliating."
Rafe had spent the whole afternoon trying to teach you how to golf after making a bet with your brother you could win a round with him. The prize: a few weeks in Greece that your parents would fully fund. And you wanted to play your Mamma Mia fantasies this summer, even if you had to listen to your boyfriend teach you all the mechanics of the most boring sport ever.
However, it did have some pros, one of them watching how Rafe's arms flexed when he swung the club, the way his white polo shirt fit him, the way he drove the golf club. It was a wonder how you were able to focus on his presence so close to you.
Rafe chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist. He presses a kiss on your shoulder, his chin resting on it. "It's a stupid sport, don't get discouraged. And with me as a coach, you'll be the best."
You turn to glare at him, annoyed at how he babied you, knowing full well there was little to no hope with your golf skills. "You're mocking me."
"No, no, I would never." he smiles softly, a smile tugging at his lips. "We just need to practice a little more. You're good at everything, I'm sure you'll be good at this, too."
Rolling your eyes, you huff, thinking about all the balls you had lost in the past hour alone. Rafe had to go back to the country club multiple times to grab another pack of golf balls, a smirk slapped on his face every time he came back with a new pack.
"This is hopeless." you groaned dramatically, throwing Rafe another glare as he laughed.
He wraps his arms around you, setting you up for another swing. "Here, let me teach you the proper technique and posture so you hit the ball where you want it to go, yeah?"
"Fine," you grumbled, biting back a smirk as Rafe's hands traveled down your body, hands gripping your waist.
"Make sure your body is turned to face the ball." Rafe murmurs in your ear, positioning your hips. His fingers trail softly up your body, your tennis dress riding up slightly at the movement. "Yeah, just like that."
You giggle softly as arch your back, shifting your legs slightly to grind your ass up against Rafe's crotch, smug at how quickly he froze. "Am I doing it right, Rafey?"
Despite how you hated the stupid nickname, you'd use it whenever you wanted something from him, something he couldn't help give you every time you asked. You'd also use it when you teased him with it, almost like a secret word to hint you wanted him without others knowing.
"Yeah, yeah. Doing great, baby. Grip the club here and here." Rafe cleared his throat. He positions your hands on the club, fingers brushing briefly against the Darry ring he had gotten you for your first week anniversary.
"Hmm, this feels right." you grin smugly, feeling his cock hardening against your ass. Gripping the club, you do a little swing, twisting your hips. "Does that look good?"
"Fuck." Rafe groans, hands tightening against your hips, pulling you up against him, his cock pressed up against your cock. His fingers play with the hem of your dress, his chin resting on your shoulder. "You always look so goddamn good."
You giggle, eyes drifting towards the group of old men a hole away from you, near enough for them to see you and Rafe, but far enough to not see how you were grinding against him. "Help me hit the ball?"
"Of course," replied Rafe, hands engulfing your own. He leads you through the motion of a swing before guiding you to hit the golf ball. With a straight swing, the club hit the ball, flying in the air for a few seconds before rolling towards the flagged hole. "Good job, baby."
With a victorious smile, you turn to look at him, dropping the club on the ground. You wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you so much, Rafey. You're such a good coach."
"If I was a good coach, I wouldn't have spent half an hour searching the lake for the balls you hit in there." he teased, an arm encircling your waist. He tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "But I'll take the compliment."
You give him a pout, puckering up your glossed lips. "You're so mean to me, always teasing me."
"I'm sorry, baby." Rafe smirks, not sorry at all. Blue yes filled with mirth, he tilts your chin up with a finger. "Let me make up for it."
He brings his lips to yours, tongue-seeking entrance as you kiss him back. Teasingly, you bit his bottom lip gently, drawing out a soft gasp from the blond. Smiling against his lips, your hand drifts down his chest, down towards his hardening cock.
"Someone's excited." you kiss along his jaw, drawing out another small gasp from your boyfriend. Despite dating for a year, he still had the same reaction to your kisses, almost as if he was surprised you wanted to kiss him.
You squeeze his cock through his shorts, pressing your body against his, hiding the action from every golfer near you. Fingers trailing up and down the length of his cock, in a stroking motion, you bring your lips back to his, allowing Rafe's hand to grab your ass.
Rafe's hands wandered up beneath your dress and you pulled away, laughing as he dramatically groaned. You give him a quick kiss on the cheek. "No more kisses for you. I know you bet against me, fucker."
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freshxsturniolo · 6 months ago
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4th July - Part 6 - chris sturniolo x femreader
pt1. pt2. pt3. pt4 pt5
you flop down on the seat with a frustrated sigh, finally admitting defeat. you'd played the 3 games you had paid for and had chris had beat you every time. of course he had. you'd never played a game of top golf in your entire life.
chris smiles at you cheekily as he walks his way over to you, before he flops down and instantly puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest.
"dont be a sore loser, pretty girl" he whispers in your ear, his voice sending shivers across your whole body before he lets you move away from him again, leaning forward and grabbing his drink.
you pull your hair away from your eyes as you look at him.
"you could have let me win at least once" you moan, and he chuckles again as he puts down his drink.
"and not teach you how to play properly? never. i tried to help, didn't i?"
yes. he had tried to help. your heart was still racing with it now.
you had let out a frustrated cry as the ball once again went no where, and you had automatically looked to chris for guidance. he didn't even notice you weren't hitting the ball right to start with, his eyes trained all over your body. the jeans your wore showing off your ass. the skin of your exposed stomach as you wore a off the shoulder crop top, shoulder moving as you swung the club. your make up the most beautiful he had ever seen it. he could tell you had made an effort for him, and it made him smile, even thought he thought you were beautiful with or without it.
he had chuckled as he walked over to you, taking position behind you. hands on your hips as he angled you better before his hands held onto the backs of yours, as he practically took the shot for you, just your body entwined in front of his. when you and he hit the ball and watched it fly further than it had done all night, you turned your head over your shoulder to look at him, but your nose brushed together. he had smiled and looked down at your lips, before you uttered out a thank you, and pressed your lips against his.
it was your first kiss of the night, and you had lost count of how man kisses you had had since that moment just a little under an hour ago.
you rolled your eyes at him now, but a smile escapes you. "okay, yes. you did."
and he leaned forward and gave you another kiss. you weren't sure you were ever going to get enough of him and those lips.
he looked down at his phone now and saw the time was just nearing 6pm, because yes, you had called him the moment you were ready earlier in the day as you simply couldn't wait till the evening to see him, and he looks to you.
"so, what now? do you wanna go somewhere for drinks?" he said, his hand coming to your thigh. you look down at his fingers before placing your hand over his.
"you want to keep the date going?" you tease. he smirks as he bends forward now, his lips just inches from yours.
"i fear i want to keep this going forever." and then his lips press yours again. your hands come up to the nape of his neck as his hands rubs against your thigh, and for a moment you forget where you are. you forget the prying eyes likely upon you. you forget that people might even recognise who you both are. but you don't care. this felt right. this felt comfortable and so okay.
he pulls away from you now and theres a hazy look in his eyes, like he's contemplating saying something. so you wait. his eyes scan your entire face for a second, hand squeezing at your thigh, a sharp breath escaping your lips.
"i might be crazy, but-"
"are you done with these?" a voice comes from the side of you. you jump, turning your head to look at the voice and noticing the staff member pointing towards your plates and trays of food. you'd gone for a mixture of things, picking at them as you went along. wings, fries, ribs. but truthfully you hadn't eaten a lot, both too infatuated
"uhm, yeah, thank you." you smile.
the staff member smiles at you as he picks up the plates and trays, and when he finally walks off you give him a smile before turning back to chris. but he's shifted in his position and his cheeks are slightly red. his hand no longer on your thigh but clutching his phone, his knees doing a nervous jig. when he knows you're looking at him again, he smiles and stands, shoving his phone back in his pocket before holding our your hand.
"shall we go, then?"
"yeah," you start, lifting yourself from the seat and grabbing his hand. he pulls you forward immediately before you can even finish your sentence.
you make your way to the exist, the hustle and bustle of the place becoming quieter as you get to the car park, but you don't reach for your car keys just yet.
"what where you gonna say in there?" you ask.
he ignores you. you can tell he's ignoring you.
"chris" you press on.
"hmm?" he says, but he still doesn't turn to look at you, so you stop. you'd be lying if you said your heart didn't hurt a little. had you done something wrong? was he about to get in the car and tell you that actually, he didn't want to go for drinks and if you could drop him off home?
"are you okay?" you ask, and he stops now to look at you. luckily theres no cars wanting to come through the car park because you'd be swiftly moved along.
"yes. sorry. im good. really good. are you?"
you can see him panicking slightly, but it only stresses you out more.
"i just - im not sure. you dont seem yourself."
he smiles before he grabs your face in his hands, his eyes looking all over your face.
"sorry, i didn't mean to give you that impression. im okay, promise."
"its not me?" you blurt. you're being annoying. you're being overbearing, you know you are. but damn, there is something about this boy.
"oh my god" he says, shaking his head. "its never you. you're everything, pretty girl."
and then he kisses you. soft. but lingering for a second or two. when he parts he looks at you, and you can tell he's sincere, so you giggle. you actually giggle.
"so fucking cute" he laughs, but you push his hands away and roll your eyes, which only makes him laugh more, head back and hair flowing with him. you're addicted to him. you're actually addicted to him.
"come on then, pretty girl. where are we going for drinks?"
you laugh as you walk back towards your car, chris by your side.
"well, do you mind if we take my car back to mine and uber there? the night is ours then"
he comes behind you, hands on your hips, continuing to walk forward.
"sounds perfect."
___ the drive back to yours is filled with laughter. continual yapping about anything and everything, and his rests on your thigh the whole way, only taking it away to sometimes send a few texts to his brothers.
you throw your car keys on the side and show him into your living area, and he smiles as he looks around. you were proud of your house and everything you'd done to achieve it, so to see him enjoy it made you smile.
"do you fancy a drink whilst we wait for an uber?" you say now, walking across to the fridge in the kitchen. you can hear him on your heel.
"what you got?"
you open the fridge and let your eyes scan.
"uhmmmm," you start. but you feel him behind you. his breath on your neck, his fingers brush against yours as he takes the fridge door in his hand too and opens it wider, and suddenly you can't speak. suddenly the tension fills the air.
"beer will do" he says, his voice low.
and you both go to grab a bottle at the same time. he's leaning over your shoulder as your fingers brush the bottle and you both stop. your breathing higher, his breath hotter down your neck.
and then your phone rings, and you almost jump out of your skin.
"fuck" you whisper, and chris chuckles into your ear as he grabs the beer from the fridge, and you feel the heat of him move away from you.
you close your eyes before fishing for your phone in your pocket, and you screw up your face when you see the caller ID. spinning around, chris has perched himself on your kitchen table, and he sees the look on your face.
"everything okay?" he asks, genuine concern lacing his voice, and you smile.
"yeah, its carrington."
you see his smile fade. "oh."
"he never calls."
he raises his beer to you. "answer it, check hes okay."
you smile as you watch him take a sip, before sliding across your phone screen to answer the call. you hear the chatter of people before you even press your phone to your ear.
"babeeeeeee" carrington calls, and you can't help but laugh as a rush of relief washes over you. he's okay.
"hello, carrington" you laugh, and chris raises an eyebrow. you smile at him.
"where the fuck are you?" he shouts. its a quiet bar but you know the amount of people he's going to be surrounded by.
"im at home." you admit, walking back to the fridge and taking out your own beer. you walk over to chris and pass it to him, and he laughs as takes off the lid for you. you mouth a thank you before taking it off of him.
"what?! are you not coming out?"
"erm,"
"oh. fuck." you hear him say. "you're with chris, aren't you?"
"yes." you say, and you can tell chris can hear him on the other end, his eyes are surveying you as he takes another sip from his beer.
“shit.” carrington says “wait, at your house? did i just call you mid FUCK?”
he’s drunk, so drunk, but you laugh.
“no carrington, you did not.”
“oh thank god. put me on speaker” he slurs.
“not a chance.”
chris is eyeing you further. and you give him a sorry smile, and he shrugs. he shrugs.
your mind instantly goes back to the party. you in the pool and him sitting on the edge after you’d been thrown in there, and you instantly remember his words. words you’d forgotten about until now. ‘is there anything going on between you and carrington’. and then you realise the shrug and the eyes, are jealousy. you smirk almost. something about him thinking of you with another guy and being mad about it only makes you find him so much more attractive.
“go onnnnn” carrington pleads in your ear, and then the pull the phone away and press louder speaker.
“you’re on” you say. and chris looks towards your phone.
“CHRIS” carrington shouts, and chris laughs.
“hey, bro” he says as you walk closer to him so he can be closer to the phone. he doesn't look at you once.
"you guys should come here. the whole gangs here and it would be good to see you."
chris looks at you now and you realise in the excitement of the day, you hadn't mentioned the drinks. truthfully, you were going to text tara and tell her you wouldn't be going, as you didn't want the alone time to end with him. you were having fun, and you knew your friends would understand.
but you begin to tell him. "we have drinks at this bar. is usually pretty lowkey but its just a place to catch up properly." you shrug, and chris nods.
"you wanna go?" he asks, the chatter of people around carrington as he awaits for one of you to speak to him.
"we dont have to." you say, and chris studies your face for a second before he leans into the phone.
"we'll get an uber there now, bro." he says, and your eyes widen.
"urgh, thank god. i miss my girl.” carrington speaks.
you close your eyes, hoping chris doesn’t latch onto it, but he laughs as carrinton hangs up. you open up your eyes just in time to see him staring at you, but he looks away quickly. and that look on his face again.
“you know” you say, and he diverts his eyes to you again. “i meant what i said. there’s nothing going on between me and carrington.”
he shrugs. again. that damn shrug. “i know.”
and you look at him for a second, before walking closer to him. you force your legs in between his and he opens up immediately, your hands coming to the nape of his neck again. it takes him a second but that beautiful smile emerges on his face again as he puts his free hand on the back of your thigh, giving it a small squeeze.
“tell your face that then”
and then you kiss him.
TAGLIST : @spencerstits @chrissturnsss @slut4chriss @valkatriee @sturnsjtop @viiiwwwee @gwennysturniolo @melanch0lybby @sturnioloblues @mattstrombolii @sturnsbella @hearteyes4chris @le4hsblog @nervoussagittarius @chrissypook @sarosfilms @somegirlfromasgard @carringtonsgirlfriend @h3arts4harry
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bunny-jpeg · 6 months ago
Note
Hey lovely, can I please have a butter tart with a coffee and whatever's on the house served by Lestappen?🤍
bakery menu
please request your own! there's ton of items on the menu for you to pick! (with more coming in the near future!!). *quiet voice* thank you lovely anon. basically i wanted to do a lestappen & reader three-way rivalry that would make me lose it. this order is on the house for doing me a solid, please come back another time and order again!
butter tart ("let's ruin ourselves for anyone else.") + coffee (rivals au) + on the house (aftercare) served by max verstappen & charles leclerc (formula one)!
cw: smut/pwp, lestappen, threesome, rivals au, dirty talk, aftercare, teasing, hot stuff (!!), various sexual acts mentioned
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the sun, the moon and the stars.
the trio that ended formula one the same time. from three different parts of the world, three different past experiences and histories, but all with the same goal.
you all wanted to win. simple as that.
on camera, it felt like the three of you were in a league of your own. to settle scores that were etched into your psyche during your karting youth. max would get a little too close to charles, charles would make a snide comment before the final race, and you'd vague post about them online.
all to fuel this insatiable hunger that the media had to watch the three of you tear each other apart. a rivalry between the three celestial bodies that would tear the universe (or this case, formula one apart).
the rumours followed the three of you since you became in each other's orbit. over the past few years more images have resurfaced that only added to the "conspiracy" of your secret relationship. it was honestly quite fun to watch.
"someone tried to create a timeline in tiktok." charles shook his phone at you and max. you were both honestly impressed by how much the internet could cobble together.
a personal favourite photo of yours was a poorly saturated photo of charles and max at a club together. they both looked painfully drunk in the seats they were in. while that itself wasn't striking, what made it a favourite was that their faces were covered in kiss marks. all the way to the collar of their shirt.
this was often paired online with a few photos of you wearing the same shade of lipstick to events around the same time. it was a rich plum colour from what you remembered and you remembered that the marks didn't end at the collar of their shirts.
you had a bruise the size of a golf ball when you and charles ended up in a cramped bathroom stall.
you were thankful that some of the photos were lost to time. or rather an old hard drive on a laptop you kept buried in your apartment for fear of people finding the photos and videos. you didn't even trust a hammer to get rid of the evidence.
there was one file that was on your current phone however, that you painstakingly transferred. it was a video, you three at around twenty four, right after max's first champion win.
charles was between his legs, his mouth on max's cock while you standing beside them, filming the sexual scene while max's fingers were stuffed in your pussy. and that was one of the more tamer ones.
however, well into your racing careers. the rivalry still went strong. and sometimes, after a race. it all boiled over.
your teammate, george looked at you as he caught you leaving your hotel room. a small knapsack was filled to the brim with stuff. he sighed, "not this again. what, you're going to catch an uber and go see them?"
the relationship between you and the two other men was the worse open kept secret. you shrugged, "it's the dutch grand prix and max didn't completely fuck it up, you know how it goes."
not fucking it up meant that max won. but you couldn't give him the benefit of knowing that you lost. so, max just did well.
george replied, "just be smart... be safe, i guess. i don't know. i don't want drama because you three couldn't get along or be safe."
you replied with your best press smile, "aw, c'mon russell! the three of us are always at the center of drama. you're not new to this." he watched you turn away and head to the elevators.
at the hotel occupied by ferrari and red bull, you ended up at max's room. you bounced on your feet for a moment as you knocked. then waited for him to open the door. you then tapped your foot and almost called something before the door opened and max pulled you into the room.
he pushed you up against the back of the door once he was shut. he grabbed you by the face and pulled you into a searing kiss. you sometimes forgot how big his hands were until you had become painfully aware.
"where's charlie?" you asked when max pulled away from the kiss. you held onto his wrist for a moment.
"i want you to guess where he is." max replied.
"the fan girls swarming him."
"he was getting us some wine too." max made a face.
you replied, "well, i guess we can start without him." then started to strip when max let go of you. the two of you got naked quickly and onto the massive bed. max's hands were allover your naked body, the blankets provided some comfort against the air conditioned room.
you felt like you knew max's body as well as your own. you had touched it in so many ways over the years. you pressed yourself up against him and kissed him gently.
it really was the moon and the stars right now. but, they wouldn't be alone forever as a knock at the hotel room door pulled you away from one another. max got out of bed and answered the door.
"hey ma- why are you naked?" charles voice could be heard before he steeped in. he was pulled in by max. you moved a little bit to see through the doorway to the main room where the men were.
charles was holding a bottle of wine and smiled when he saw you. he said, "are you starting without me?" then turned to max, "you sent me out for wine so you could have first pick, right?"
"i would never! she just doesn't have the dedicated fan base you have." then headed back to the bedroom. charles followed closely behind him and was stripping his clothes. his shirt ended up with max's on the couch and his jeans were draped over some chair.
you got out from under the covers and charles almost choked on air at the sight of your naked body. not because it was horrible, but because it was just as beautiful as ever.
the sexual history between the three of you was a messy web. it felt like anyone who tried to get with one of you always failed. because if one of you tried to step out, the string that kept you tethered to one another always brought you back.
the two men got into bed with you and started to kiss at you warm skin. you felt a shudder run through you at the feeling of their lips on your skin.
"you fuckin' freaks." you purred as you giggled at the touches. you felt goosebumps across your skin as you rubbed your thighs together.
"ah what, are you mad that you came in sixth today?"
you looked over your shoulder at charles and said, "i should've ran you off the track, mister third."
max pulled your attention to him and said, "and what about me?" he chuckled as he held you jaw.
you held onto the other's shoulders and said, "ugh, i was hoping that something would come flying off. halfway through the race."
the men pressed against you even harder, their touches were getting harder. charles said, "i can't believe she said that about us. after everything we've done for her."
"i know. so ungrateful."
charles pulled your head back and pulled you in for a hot kiss. you felt both their erections up against your back which made you whine softly.
max chuckled, "i'm curious about what colours she'll end up wearing. when she is cheering from the sidelines."
you shuddered, "shut up, both of you. i'm not changing my last name and i'm sure as hell not marrying either of you." you tried to squirm out of their grasps.
but it only tightened and both men looked at each other. they could barely compose themselves and both of them started to howl in laughter, like you said the highlight of a comedy show.
"we're serious." charles said, low in your ear.
max chuckled lowly, "she'd be too stubborn, even if one of us got her pregnant, she'd give that kid her last name."
you looked at max, "yeah, exactly." and tensed up when max's finger dragged across your achy slit.
"verstappen is always available." max then pulled you in for another searing kiss and charles' voice was in your ear, the combination made your core throb. you hated how they knew all your weaknesses.
"i was thinking leclerc. i mean we'd still have this little arrangement. but i'm thinking a nice wedding in monaco, the whole thing. your team, my team, your family, my family. max."
he pulled away and said, "thanks." his tone was flat.
"no problem." he smiled at his rival before he went back to you and added, "i think it would be a lovely wedding. i think leclerc seems less... harsh than verstappen."
max rested his chin on your shoulder to look at charles, "to be good on the grid, you need a strong name." their eyes met and charles went in to kiss the other man.
you were perfectly sandwiched between them as they kissed. when they parted charles said, "don't worry, max. you can have my last name too."
you tapped your chin for a moment and said, "lovely offers you two, but i think i'm just going to stick with the last name i've had for my entire life. i don't need either of you to boost my legacy."
"right, right. it's not like you're going to marry anyone else outside of this." max said.
"oh yeah, most likely. i think we've entered the let's ruin ourselves for anyone else territory."
charles kissed the side of your neck, "don't say it like it's a bad thing."
you looked over your shoulder at him and raised your eyebrows, "i would like a husband at some point."
"then marry me." both men said in unison.
eventually the three of you got into position. your face buried in charles' lap while on your elbows and knees with max behind you. you looked up at charles who had his hand in your hair.
"you look good like this."
"next time." you said, "you're eating me out." your voice was pointed as if you weren't practically salivating at the chance to suck him off.
"there's no higher honour." he said as he held the back of your head before you started to kiss at his cock.
both men were impressive in size, not too crazy. nothing that would painfully scare someone or leave you with internal bruising.
"ready for me?" max asked.
you nodded as you continued to kiss at charles' cock. your hands on either side of his waist for leverage as you really sank your mouth down on it. you did arch your back and moan when max pushed his cock inside of you.
"neuken."
charles chuckled, he's heard that more than a few times in his life. with his hands tangled in your hair, he looked to the other man and said, "she still feels amazing."
"afraid you have competition, charles?" max replied, as if you hadn't spent time watching the two of them go after one another in the bedroom from time to time.
he made a face before he looked down to you and started to gently roll his hips. you knew exactly how to make these men squirm as you eagerly pleasured them.
max's thrusts were strong, but not fast. he was savouring his time inside of you. the tight heat of your pussy that he only found himself craving more as time went on.
you knew if the press even got a whiff of this, it would be such a media circus that you were certain that one of you would kill a reporter. that was why you still had that laptop, because the fear of the files being restored somehow even after a good wipe of the hard drive, was very real.
there were nudes of you, of max and of charles, sometimes all three of you together. there was one when the three of you were in amsterdam where it was you smoking a cigarette, presumably after sex and max was fast asleep and you were using his back to hold the hotel ashtray.
you knew there was a video of max waking charles up by putting his pussy slick covered fingers (thanks to you) in front of the man's face and whistling to him like a dog. the funny part was that it worked.
it would be a treasure trove of debauchery if anyone got their hands on it. the three of you were stupid little sex freaks, in a way you still were. except now with heftier pay checks and nice homes in expensive real estate.
you closed your eyes and let yourself just be fucked by the other two men. they were never truly mean. no slapping or hair pulling, and certainly no bruising.
you and max spent a whole season in the rumours section of gossip rags because of the amount of hickies that were seen on your neck. max even went as far as to leave one on the inner part of your wrist. charles thought that fiasco was funny, mostly because he wasn't in it.
"you feel so good." charles groaned.
max wrapped both of his strong arms around you and leaned over you, pressing you further into the bed. he rutted against you and kissed the back of you neck while you throat was full of charles' cock.
"she feels so fucking good." max said, "i think we've really lucked out. as good in the bedroom as she is on the grid."
charles chuckled, "if she was that good on the grid, she would've easily passed you today."
max kissed the side of your neck and shoved his cock as deep as it could go, "true, true." he kissed the side of your face,
the three of you moved together. the sounds of sex filled the hotel room, you had felt over the years since this started you have become more mature in your sexual proclivities. it wasn't a quick, messy fuck in some hall closet or a blow job in a car in an empty parking lot.
you three could take the time with each other. the three of you panted, moaned and groaned. you were wrapped up in the hot euphoria of sex.
the three of you were interlinked in ways that couldn't be fully explained. while it made for titillating headlines, there was a deeper under current of your relationship.
while most feuds between the two of you would be solved either through conversation or the heated moments of sex. there was a need for the three of you to push to your absolute limit.
while there were seventeen other drivers on the track, and you did have your feuds with them. you were tied to charles and max just as they were tied to you and each other.
a perfect triangle. in a strange reality where two of you were on the same team, it would be a clean sweep for the team. it was good that the three of you were on three different teams.
in all fairness, george, sergio and lewis probably would prefer the three of you somehow were on the same team. at least it would contain the bitching. (you knew they had their own group chat to figure out what the hell was going on between the three of you)
but it was hard to bitch when the three of you were in the bedroom.
both men were starting to lose steam, in all fairness, so were you. you could feel the head rush as you continued to charles' cock with max's cock hitting against your sensitive areas. you gripped the bed under you and kept it together long enough to orgasm.
charles was the first to finish, that was usually what happened. he ran so hot when he had sex that it clouded his mind and he easily finished down your throat, almost coming a second time when he saw how easily you swallowed it all up. he slumped against the headboard of the bed watched max continue to fuck you.
you were the second to cum, you gripped onto the bed wit your nose up in charles' pubic hair as you panted heavily. it was a throb in your body only made worse by max's persistent thrusting.
max watched both of his partners of a sexual bliss and continued to rut against you. he had been holding himself off to make sure that you two finished before he did. that was sort of what he did. but the sight of both of you was enough to send him over the end. and he finished inside of you with a last hard thrust.
"holy fuck." he panted as he felt the fight leave his body.
you felt a bit of your jaw ache as you laid there with your head on charles' thigh. max pulled out and got comfortable beside the other man.
charles play with your hair and said, "i think she's been spoiled."
max chuckled, "i think she's spoiled us. that was her plan all along."
you cracked an eye open at max before you leaned over to kiss him. right before you did, you said, "yeah max. it's been my evil plan for almost ten years."
max kissed you and charles' continued to play with your hair. the sun, the moon and the stars. the three celestial bodies of formula one. curled up in bed together.
-
both men laid in bed and shared a smoke while you cleaned yourself up. you always ran so painfully hot. while you got your hair out of your eyes after you dried it, you noticed that max's red bull shirt and charles' ferrari shirt were both left over the couch.
you heard both men talking in french, with the occasional sound of kissing. but your focus were on the shirts on the couch. a thought crossed your mind and you picked up your phone from the sink counter and snapped a picture.
you stared down at your phone for a moment. you should've probably pondered your options a little more before you uploaded the photo to your instagram story. "a stallion and a bull. yeah right." with a rolling eyes emoji. you posted it to your story then put your phone on silence before you headed back to the bedroom.
the fallout from that would be tomorrow's problem. <3
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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months ago
Text
The Imperfect Couple - 15
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Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader
Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.
Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻
Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️
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“Seems like you're declaring war on me,” Bucky said, his voice steady but his eyes narrowing slightly.
“Does it sound like that? Forgive me.” Steve set the golf club down, a smirk playing on his lips. “What I meant is, we have to be aware of everything. We're this close to winning.”
“I agree.” Bucky replied, his expression calm, though his mind churned with unspoken thoughts.
“This is why I trust you.” Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “Remember, we're playing in the highest league now.”
Steve paused before adding casually, “By the way, my son wants to visit Nate. Is that okay with you?”
“I'll let my wife and Nate know,” Bucky responded, his voice neutral, though he felt a flicker of unease.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
When Bucky got home, he saw you sitting cross-legged on the floor with Nate, working on a puzzle together. You both seemed relaxed, unaware of the weight he carried from the conversation with Steve. He walked over, his movements deliberate, and knelt beside Nate.
“Nate, buddy, can you go to your room for a bit? I need to talk to your aunt,” Bucky said gently, placing a hand on Nate’s shoulder.
Nate, always obedient, nodded. “Okay, Uncle Bucky,” he said before scooping up a few puzzle pieces and heading inside.
Once it was just the two of you, you glanced at Bucky and noticed his exhausted expression. He looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“What? Did something worse just hit you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
Bucky took a breath, his jaw tightening. “Did you just involve Ian?” His tone was calm, but his eyes betrayed his frustration.
You widened your eyes, momentarily caught off guard by the question. That single look was enough for him to sigh deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I…” His hands clenched into fists momentarily. He wanted to be angry, knowing full well this would put you on Steve’s radar.
“Just… tell Ian to slow down,” Bucky muttered, clearly uneasy.
“I can’t,” you said softly but firmly. “The way Ian works is far more efficient than anything I could do.”
Bucky rubbed his temples, his frustration mounting. “Then I hope God protects him.”
“Bucky…” you stepped closer, your voice serious. “Be honest with me. Is he in danger?”
Bucky looked down, his hands braced on the counter, his shoulders tense. “Steve just gave me a warning. It won’t matter to him if there’s blood on his hands.”
Your heart dropped. ‘Fuck,’ you thought as panic began to bubble inside. You immediately grabbed your phone and dialed Ian, but there was no answer. Frustration and fear mingled in your chest as you quickly texted him instead: Be careful. Eyes and ears everywhere.
You glanced at Bucky, your stomach twisting. “By the way, the Rogers twins want to come here to play with Nate,” Bucky added as if it were a casual comment, though his voice carried an edge.
“You allowed that?” you asked, the disbelief evident in your tone.
The mention of the twins unsettled you. Your mind flashed back to watching The Shining in secret with Tim, and how the twins in that movie had always given you the creeps. That eerie feeling wasn’t just from the film anymore—it was rooted in real life. You had learned the truth: William and Charles, Steve's sons, had a reputation for bullying other students. The thought of them around Nate made your skin crawl.
Would they be a good influence on Nate? You highly doubted it.
Bucky gave a tired shrug. “I can’t say no to the future president, right?”
You pressed your lips into a thin line, knowing there was little you could do to stop it. But one thing was clear—you would be keeping a very close eye on them when they came to visit.
🌸🌸🌸🌸
The twins arrived at the house, their faces lit up with matching grins, excitement practically radiating off them. Nate, catching sight of them, bolted to the door, his small body bouncing with joy.
"William! Charles!" Nate called out, bouncing on his toes as he welcomed them in. His innocent joy was palpable—he was simply happy to have people he knew coming to play with him.
"Hey, buddy," William said, ruffling Nate’s hair as they walked inside.
After a brief exchange, they settled in front of the game console, and soon, the twins had chosen a violent shooter game. The screen flickered with gunfire and explosions, the sound effects jarring in the otherwise quiet room. Nate, seated between them, initially watched in awe but quickly became uncomfortable.
His tiny hands shot up to cover his eyes, and he flinched with every loud noise, his body tense as he pressed himself into the couch. He covered his ears, trying to block out the unsettling sounds, but he didn’t say a word, not wanting to ruin the moment.
You watched from a distance, trying not to be the nosy adult. You wanted to give them space, but seeing Nate’s frightened reaction twisted something in your gut. Likewise, you couldn’t stand by anymore. Walking over to the boys, you kept your tone polite, but firm.
“Guys,” you said, your voice cutting through the sounds of the game, “is there another game that’s not as scary? Look, Nate’s getting scared.”
William glanced down at Nate, who was huddled close to him. “Oh, why didn’t you say something, buddy?” he said, patting Nate’s shoulder as if that would fix everything.
Charles sighed and turned off the violent game, switching to something more child-friendly. "Here, we’ve got a game for you, Nate." He scrolled through the options and selected a bright, colorful one with cartoon rabbits running a restaurant.
The second the screen changed, Nate’s face lit up. “Wow!” he exclaimed, his fear dissolving as he leaned forward, eager to play. The teenage boys, now seemingly patient, guided him through the simple controls, explaining how to serve food to the cartoon animals. You felt a wave of relief. Maybe—just maybe—the twins weren’t as bad as you had feared.
Later, the boys decided to go swimming. You sat on a poolside chair, keeping a close eye on Nate. He was wearing a floatie around his small frame, happily splashing in the shallow end while William and Charles horsed around further away.
Suddenly, your phone buzzed. It was Ian. "H...ell...o"
You stood up, checking the signal, which was terrible. Frowning, you moved toward the balcony. The pool was indoors, so you stepped outside, hoping for better reception.
“I just got your text,” Ian said when the call finally connected. His voice was rough, but you could hear his smirk through the line. “You know this isn’t going to stop me.”
“I’m serious, Ian,” you replied, leaning against the balcony rail. “Bucky told me directly. You’re in danger.”
A pause, and then Ian’s voice, low and almost teasing, came through. “Hmm… Guess where I am right now?”
You sighed, trying to play along. “London? Since you went home, right?”
“Nope. Paris. And I’ve found something—something lethal enough to kill Steve,” Ian said, his tone dark with implication.
Paris? You froze. Was this related to Hazel? Your heart pounded with a new surge of anxiety. “Ian, don’t—”
But before you could finish, you heard it. A splash—loud, frantic. You turned around, the blood draining from your face. In the water, you saw a small hand desperately reaching out, the floatie floating uselessly nearby. It was Nate.
Panic gripped you like a vice. “Nate!” you screamed, dropping your phone as you sprinted back inside.
Without hesitation, you dove into the pool, your body hitting the cold water like a shock to your system. Your hands reached for him, pulling Nate’s tiny, trembling body to the surface. His arms latched around your neck in a vice grip, coughing and sputtering as you lifted him from the water.
He gasped, burying his face against your shoulder, his small body shaking as he clung to you. “He…he can’t swim!” you snapped at the twins, your voice filled with raw anger.
William and Charles stood there on the edge of the pool, unfazed. “That’s why we were teaching him,” they answered in unison, their tone almost dismissive.
Nate let out a pained cough, his voice weak. “My nose hurts…” he whimpered, rubbing his face against your neck.
Your heart ached at the sight of him, vulnerable and hurt. Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, and you glared at the twins. You remembered that they both just watched while Nate was drowning. Without raising your voice, you pointed to the door, your finger shaking with fury. “Get out. Now.”
The command echoed in the room, sharp and unforgiving. William and Charles flinched, startled by the intensity in your voice. Without a word, they quickly grabbed their things, shooting one last glance at each other before rushing out the door.
You stayed in the pool, holding Nate close, your teeth gritted in anger and your heart still pounding. You knew then—those boys were never going to be allowed near Nate again. Not after this.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
The twins walked into the Roger household, their shoulders slumped, clearly sensing the storm waiting for them. Behind them, Peggy followed with a stern but composed expression. As they stepped further into the room, the tension was palpable—Steve stood there, arms crossed, his face hard as stone. He had heard everything from you, and his sons could feel his fury even before he said a word.
William and Charles instinctively moved closer to Peggy, seeking the safety of her presence as if she could shield them from the inevitable.
Peggy, sensing the mounting tension, stepped forward slightly, her voice calm but firm. “Steve, calm down. I will talk to them.”
Steve let out a frustrated sigh, his clenched jaw releasing only slightly. “I’m not going to yell,” he said through gritted teeth. “But I need to say something.”
He fixed his cold gaze on his sons. “Both of you will be homeschooled from now on.”
The twins’ faces fell in disbelief. “Dad, no!” William blurted, and Charles’ mouth hung open, too stunned to speak.
“I know,” Steve said, his voice quieter now, but there was no softness in it. “I know the main reason for your behavior is because your mother and I have been too busy for you. We never spent time together as a family.” His arms unfolded, and to their surprise, he pulled them into a hug. “So, homeschooling is the best option, isn’t it?” His tone sounded almost tender, but underneath it lay a cold warning.
William and Charles glanced at each other, then back at Peggy, silently pleading for her to intervene. But she didn’t. She stood still, her lips pressed tightly together, offering no rescue.
“Good children don’t question their parents,” Steve said, his voice dropping low. “You just say, ‘Yes, father.’”
The twins swallowed hard, a sinking feeling settling in their chests. “Yes, father,” they muttered in unison, their voices barely above a whisper. It felt as though their every move would now be monitored.
Steve’s lips curled into a smile, but it wasn’t warm—it was the smile of a man in control. “Good. Now, go back to your rooms.”
The boys moved quietly, retreating upstairs, the weight of Steve’s words heavy on their shoulders.
Once they were out of sight, Steve’s smile faded. He turned toward Peggy, his tone biting. “This is why I never wanted to send them to boarding school in the first place. They needed parental guidance, not strict school rules.”
Peggy’s eyes narrowed, a tired look crossing her face. “Don’t start again, Steve. That decision was made by my father.”
Steve’s expression darkened at the mention of her father. His voice dripped with bitterness. “Oh yeah, him. I almost forgot. I’m glad he’s dead.”
Peggy’s face tensed, a flare of anger sparking in her eyes. “When will you stop badmouthing my father?”
Steve’s cold stare met hers. “Never.”
Steve had lived a life bound by duty, his role in the military shaping every part of him. He was a good soldier—respected, disciplined, and obedient. But despite his loyalty, promotions came slowly. His lack of a powerful family background meant he was always overlooked by those with better connections. Essentially, Steve was an orphan—without anyone to vouch for him, he was left behind.
He knew how the system worked. If you didn’t have the right name, the right family, there was always a price to pay. And Steve had paid it, doing the dirty work of his superiors without question, sacrificing his principles just to keep his place. The worst part of it all was that his commanding officer, General Carter, was his father-in-law.
Every step of his career, Steve had been a puppet for the man who held both his professional and personal life in his hands. The weight of it bore down on him every day.
“Good soldiers don’t ask why,” General Carter always said this to him. “They just say, ‘Yes, sir.’”
"Yes, sir." Steve answer it like he's a robot.
At some point, Steve had everything he’d ever thought he wanted—marriage, a steady career, money, and status. On paper, he should have been happy. But he wasn’t. His life felt dull, empty, like the spark had been drained from it.
The day he realized the truth hit him like a punch in the gut. He wasn’t his own man—he was nothing more than a tool for his father-in-law, a puppet dancing to someone else’s tune.
That was the moment he had enough. The frustration, the years of silently obeying, simmered into anger. He wanted to be the one in control. He was tired of taking orders—he wanted to be the one giving them.
Steve’s life had been dull for years, a constant routine of military duties, politics, and the weight of expectations. Until the day he met Hazel. She was much younger than him—vibrant, full of life—and he was supposed to give her advice, to help steer her back home. Julius and Caroline had asked him to help their daughter stop running away. But when Steve sat with Hazel and listened to her story, something shifted. Her reasons for running, the pressures she felt—her life mirrored his own struggles. For the first time in years, he felt empathy.
He told her, quietly, “If you ever need someone to talk to, you can find me.”
And from there, things changed. They grew closer, and eventually, more intimate. He knew it was wrong—cheating on his family, betraying his friends—but for the first time, Steve felt alive again. The numbness of his life vanished in her presence, replaced by something that burned, something real. And then came Nate, the baby born out of that connection, out of a love he hadn’t felt in years.
Steve’s thoughts snapped back to the present. His jaw clenched tightly as he faced Peggy. “Did you tell them to hurt Nate?”
Peggy stood her ground, her face a mix of frustration and cold calculation. “No,” she said flatly. “But they’re smart enough to figure out why their father cares so much about that kid, and why he’s always…” She hesitated, her lips curling into a thin smile. “Spending time with his little girlfriend. Maybe they’re just releasing their anger.”
Steve’s fists tightened until his knuckles turned white. “When I get into the White House, you won’t be coming with me.”
Peggy’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t flinch. “And what then?” she said with a mocking tilt to her voice. “You think you’re going to put that girl in my place? Have you forgotten who you are? You were a beggar, crawling to my father for help.”
Steve’s eyes darkened, a dangerous calm settling over him. “And this beggar has crawled his way to victory,” he said slowly, his voice low but filled with menace. “You can act high and mighty because of me. Don’t forget that I can take it all away from you.” He stepped closer, his words laced with venom. “Remember how your family got their business permits? How they were saved from corruption charges and tax evasion? That was because of me.”
Peggy let out a scoff, her eyes filled with disdain. “You think you’re a king now?” She crossed her arms, shaking her head. “I actually pity her, you know. Because one day, she’ll feel exactly what I felt. You’ll never be satisfied, Steve. You’ll never have enough.”
She turned to leave, her hand on the door. Before stepping out, Peggy glanced back at him, her eyes filled with cold certainty. “Never.”
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
You sat beside Nate, your heart heavy as you watched his small chest rise and fall, his face flushed with fever. The doctor had just left, handing you a bottle of medicine. "Make sure he drinks this, and let him rest completely," he’d said before exchanging a few quiet words with Bucky and leaving the apartment.
Nate’s red, feverish face made your heart ache. He had been through so much in just a few hours. You gently wiped a damp cloth over his forehead as Bucky sat beside you, silent and tense.
"Never, ever let Nate be alone with them again," you said, your voice firm.
Bucky nodded, his expression serious. "I agree. And I’m sorry. I never thought they’d pull something like that."
“Don’t underestimate underage kids,” you warned, your voice sharp. “There are so many cases where perpetrators can’t be jailed because they’re underage.”
Bucky’s jaw tightened. "Noted. I won’t forget that."
A brief silence passed, then you asked, “Have you called Hazel?”
“I tried, but I couldn’t reach her. I called her assistant, though.”
You nodded, your mind still spinning. The memory of Nate sinking beneath the water haunted you, but there was something else gnawing at you—you hadn’t finished your conversation with Ian.
Excusing yourself, you left the room and grabbed your phone, your stomach dropping when you noticed the cracked screen from when you’d dropped it before diving into the pool.
You dialed Ian’s number, your fingers trembling as you pressed it to your ear. The first ring echoed, unanswered. Your heart pounded faster. The second ring—nothing. A cold sense of unease crept into your chest. Why wasn’t he answering?
On the third try, the ringing stopped abruptly, and you exhaled in relief. “Hello? Ian?” you asked quickly, your voice tight with worry.
There was a pause on the other end, then a voice you didn’t expect—familiar, but not Ian’s.
“Y/N?”
You froze, confusion flooding your mind. “Hazel? Why are you answering Ian’s phone?” Panic started to rise inside you, the pieces beginning to fall into place. Ian had gone to Paris. He had found something—something connected to Hazel and Steve.
“He… he can’t answer it,” Hazel whispered, her voice breaking.
Your breath caught in your throat, a chill racing down your spine. “Why?” The word came out in a shaky breath.
There was a long silence before Hazel finally spoke, her words hitting you like a sledgehammer.
“Because he’s dead.”
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iamred-iamyellow · 7 months ago
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⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ i've missed you miami
♥ pairing: logan sargeant x fem!golfer!reader
♥ smau - fluff
♥ none of the pictures are mine, all were found on pinterest
♥ masterlist
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liked by lilymhe, alex_albon, and 345,672 more
yourusername ready for LPGA
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lilymhe good luck <3
yourusername you too babe <3
user10 GOOD LUCKK
user6 getting the prayer circle ready
landonorris we're rooting for you
yourusername thank you mwah mwah
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-Top Golf-
“Alright teams of two,” Alex said to the group. “Lily and I, George and Carmen, Lando and Carlos…. which leaves Logan with Y/n.”
“Oh come on obviously Lily and Y/n are going to win. They have an unfair advantage.” George whined. 
You stepped up to the small square patch of turf with your golf ball and club. 
“Shouldn’t have invited two professionals to top golf then,” you laughed. 
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liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, and 782,384 more
logansargeant everyone say thanks to y/n for winning us top golf
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landonorris booo
yourusername not my fault you suck at golf
carlossainz55 she’s just telling the truth lando
landonorris I hate you both
user2 why he posing like that
user14 oh!
user1 save a horse ride a cowboy
yourusername amen to that
user2 ON MAIN?!?! 😨
user7 new ship unlocked
user5 shoutout y/n for doing all the heavy lifting
landonorris I would also appreciate some sympathy for having to watch the two of them be all over each other
user7 SORRY?
user10 omg Lando spill
user16 Y/n and Lily ate them up huh?
user13 she’s so pretty :(
user12 the picture of Logan-
user14 this is so cute
user1 is it weird to say I ship
georgrussell63 I demand a rematch
yourusername you wanna lose twice?
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yourusername embracing my cuntry roots
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landonorris yeehaw
yourusername 🦅🦅
user13 how coquette of you
user5 logan sargeant core
user4 he didn't invent cowgirls
user6 RAHH
user1 USA USA
user7 but does he say you're so american 🤨
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yourusername hey miami, i've missed you
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user13 logan in the comments logan in the comments
user7 guys she's there for golf, not Logan
logansargeant did you need a reminder not to feed the alligators
yourusername ...no
logansargeant ...
yourusername they're so cute
user3 ALLIGATORS?
logansargeant if you try pet one it WILL eat you
yourusername :(
user8 @/logansargeant would you fight an alligator for her
alex_albon im sure he would
user9 gotta make sure he's good enough for our queen y/n
user2 her hair >>>
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liked by yourusername, williamsracing, and 823,948 more
logansargeant home race
-comments are disabled-
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liked by francisca.gomes, lilymhe, and 372,392 more
yourusername me and the girls <3
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francisca.gomes love you babes
yourusername ily pookie
logansargeant how come I wasn't invited?
yourusername its girls night
landonorris you'll get her attention during the race dw
user7 Lando is the biggest y/n x Logan shipper
user8 hes so me
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yourusername I love you but not enough to let you win 💙
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carlossainz be honest. who's a worse golfer: Logan or Lando
yourusername lando.
landonorris yea but only one of us can drive an f1 car and I'm pretty sure its not you
yourusername that's LOW
oscarpiastri when you go low, Lando goes lower
user8 the blue heart-
user14 its for Logan idc
user2 BLUE HEART FOR WILLIAMS
user18 "I love you but-" SORRY WHAT? I LOVE YOU?!
user9 I love you?!?! say it one more time for the people in the back
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user6 I love how this is him hard launching his relationship and then just a picture of him and Alex 😭
yourusername you- you're cheating on me with ALEX?!
alex_albon you weren't supposed to find out this way
yourusername @/lilymhe come collect your man
user7 I TOLD YOU THEY WERE IN LOVE
user19 YES ITS FINALLY HAPPENING
user1 idk who I wanna be more
user5 they're dating?
user12 yea it was so obvious
landonorris get a room
964 notes · View notes
sports-on-sundays · 7 months ago
Note
Okay so 🤭 what if Y/N use to be with ( whatever Barca player you choose ) and they broke it off because they supposedly wanted to focus on their career and the reader was really heartbroken and omg to make it more better y/n is Carlos sister and then she sees or hear how they moved on already! And little by little she starts to be with lando and they announce their relationship when he wins in Miami!! Like full on hard launch. 😭🙌🏽
Also this got me motivated to think of more ideas ima write them down for the future 🤭
papaya girl / LN4
Summary: ex!Ferran x Sainz!baker!reader x Lando - After a devastating breakup with your footballing boyfriend, you think you'll never be able to date someone again.
Warnings: there's a golf scene and I don't golf so-!🤞, mention of sickness, foul language, sorry if some things are not accurate, headache, partying/dancing/drunkenness/clubbing, mention of getting so drunk you had no memory of what happened, implied getting drunk to dampen emotions, getting injured, vomiting, slight soulmate feel, a bit of suggestive talk, use of babe/baby/bae/baby girl/etc., I feel like every kiss I describe is exactly the same sooo- sorry about that! ✌
Requested?: YES! 😘
Author's Note: Do you ever write something so good that you wish you could make it into a movie? That's how I feel about this. I can imagine the scenes. Didn't plan it but I guess 24 is the magic number for this one. I made the request more dramatic because... I like doing that... 👉 👈 🥺 ALSO THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST. PERFECT MIX OF ANGST AND FLUFF. I LITERALLY LOVE YOU! If you do have any more ideas and you're up for it, let me know!
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When you met Ferran Torres, you were a Madridista with a passion for Ferrari. Being a Sainz, you've always been rooting for Real Madrid, but your favorite Formula 1 team isn't as consistent. Because before that, you were a McLaren fan. And before that, Red Bull. And everything else before that, too.
Wherever Carlos is, you're a fan of it.
You, quite literally, on the day you met Ferran, were wearing a Cristiano Ronaldo jersey and a backwards Ferrari cap.
And, well, he, a new arrival from Manchester City, liked that, apparently!
And it was beautiful. They way you slowly became closer and closer, growing to know each other more and more.
And then, maybe you just hit a point. Hit a point in your relationship where you wanted more, and Ferran realized that if any more was given by him, it would be too far for him.
And he cut it off. Said he was doing well in Barcelona. He had high hopes. You, a sold out Madrid fan, had been wearing his number on the back of a blaugrana jersey. And despite that blaugrana jersey, he ditched you.
He said his work, his career, his passions, his dreams, were more important than you.
But you can't complain, Y/n. That's fair. He was gentle in letting you know. He made it clear he didn't want any malice between you and him.
You roll over in bed, staring vacantly at your wall. There's a large Real Madrid flag hanging in the middle. A smaller Ferrari flag on one side. A few posters of bands and teams you like or events you've been to, signed by different celebrities. People who are more famous than 'Carlos Sainz Jr.'s sister' or 'Ferran Torres's ex-girlfriend.' On one side, it seems silly to have a poster signed by Max Verstappen, but you do. On the other side of the flag, you have a peeling old McLaren poster, showing the younger versions of Carlos and his former racing partner, Lando Norris, looking just seconds away from breaking into a loud, hysterical laughter.
And next to that, you have a Barcelona poster.
You smile sadly to yourself.
I must look like such a conflicted sports fan.
You stand up, walking over to the wall. After gently peeling the Barcelona poster off the wall, you slowly trace the badge with your fingers, any hint of a smile now gone as tears begin to fill your eyes, threatening to fall.
"This is stupid," you murmur scornfully, your voice cracking softly. "This isn't even my team! It's not my city...!" You toss the poster across the room, leaving it in a place where you don't intend to pick it up anytime soon.
Let it gather dust and crumple. That's what Ferran did. He threw away our relationship like it was nothing but a worthless piece of paper. And now I'm suffering the consequences.
You sigh. You're trying not to let yourself be bitter. You want to look back on everything you and Ferran had and be happy. Appreciate it. You still love Ferran. You don't want to be angry with him.
Someone said to you once, Hurt heals with time, as long as you let it.
You grab a bold, red Sharpie from your drawer and your notebook from a dresser. You scribble those words in all caps, rip out the page, grab some tape, and hang the piece of paper where the FC Barcelona poster used to be.
You sigh, but nod, before turning to get ready for your day.
You hate winter. You never hated winter before this winter, but now you hate it.
With the breakup, you've been avoiding anything La Liga like the plague, even if it doesn't involve Ferran Torres. It just reminds you too much.
And with Carlos on winter break, getting ready for the start of the season, he's not around much. Going on different trips, he's quite busy. Which you don't like. You and your brother have a strong bond.
It's not like you don't have anything to do. You just don't have anything interesting to do. You have a shop that you run, but you have enough staff hired to not have to be there all the time.
Yes, in a family of racing, you were never too into it. Your strong spot is in baking and business running, so that's why you opened up a bakery in Madrid.
And being a Sainz, of course it was a success.
Same type of thing as Charles Leclerc's 'LEC,' except you're not the racing driver Charles Leclerc, you're not doing ice cream, and you've always been doing this, for five years now.
You watch as a young, excited couple walks in, jabbering away in English. You can just tell they're tourists as they get in line to order. Once they get to the counter, the woman immediately leans over the counter in excitement, saying, "Is Carlos Sainz here?" in English.
You chuckle. Sounds American. "Which Carlos Sainz?" you tease.
They look blankly at you as if you're just about the dumbest individual to walk planet Earth. You chuckle and say, "Why don't you get to ordering? There's a line."
Towards the afternoon, as things begin to quiet down just a little bit, you look up at the doorbell jingles and freeze.
When he reaches the counter, you snap at Ferran, "Why are you in Madrid?"
"Am I not allowed to be? Either way, hello to you, too."
You sigh, licking your lips as you study the Valencian boy. "What can I get for you?"
He shrugs and orders, before seating himself down at one of the seats at the counter. "How have you been, Y/n?" he asks.
"Fine," you swallow, staring down. "And you?"
"I'm good." From there, he begins just talking, as if we're old friends or something, and not exes.
He seems so happy. So content.
To not be with you.
Suddenly, mid-way through one of his many sentences, you slip your hand over his, almost on impulse. He stops, staring to your hands, and then to you.
You breathe softly, "Why? Why did you come here to just talk to me? Aren't you moved on? Ferran, this is torture for me."
Lines crease into his face. You can see him swallow, looking at your smaller hand on his. "I'm... I'm sorry. I am moved on. I'm doing well. I just thought maybe we could be friends. I'd never want to date you again; I'm not in the place to date anyone. I'm happy single. But I just feel bad. I know you're hurt, and... I'd be happy to still be friends with you, is all?" He slips his hand out from underneath yours and takes his cup of coffee with it, taking a sip as he watches you intently.
You drag a hand over your face. Though you didn't want to admit it, seeing him come in to the bakery gave you hope. That maybe he wanted to try again. But those words that came out of his mouth? They cut deep.
"Listen, Ferran," you barely whisper. "I'm still trying to work through what happened. Everything. It's hard for me. But I appreciate it, and when I'm ready, if I'm ever ready, I'd love to be your friend. O- Okay?"
He nods slowly, staring down. "Alright... Fair enough."
"What's wrong?" your older brother, Carlos, asks. You watch outside the window as the world travels by.
You sigh. "Ferran."
"Him, again?"
"Carlos," you sigh. "Stop. It's nothing new. I'm just missing him. He wants to stay friends, but I said I needed time."
"Ah. Well, you know, I did tell you never to date-"
"-a Barcelona player. I know," you roll your eyes with a little smile.
He chuckles, shaking his head. "Hurt heals with time, as-"
"-long as you let it. I know," you comment, smiling a bit wider.
"Exactly. It'll come."
You sigh. "I hope so."
As Carlos pulls into the parking lot, you say, "So. Is that why you decided to take me golfing with your friends? Just wanted to check up on me, but you never have the time to sit down over dinner these days?"
Carlos smiles as he shuts off the car. "No. I could have made time. But I wanted your company golfing."
"You know I'm not big on g-"
"Shut up," he grins. "Yes you are."
"I suck."
"Not as bad as some people I know. In fact, you're actually pretty okay."
Soon, you meet up with a bunch of Carlos's friends. They're all chatting, and you're just kind of zoning off, looking out over the grassy hills, when suddenly you look up when Carlos says, "Ay! Lando!"
You blink in complete and utter shock. "Why is Lando Norris here?"
As Lando approaches, he eyes you, saying teasingly, "Well, thank you for the warm welcome, Y/n Sainz."
"Lando was just around, so he made the drive to meet us here," Carlos quickly fills in.
Soon, you're all off. After a round, as you're walking back to the cart to go get lunch, Carlos says, nudging Lando, "I think my baby sister is better than you."
Lando laughs. "You fucking muppet; what are you talking about?"
You grin, falling in step with Lando and Carlos. "I'm a better golfer."
"That is just wrong," Lando says, glancing at you. "Downright wrong."
"It's a Sainz thing," Carlos puts in. "There's no way for you to beat us, Lando. You can't. Winning runs in the family."
Lando rolls his eyes, reiterating, "Your baby sister is not better than me."
"You have no right to call me a baby," you put in indignantly. "I'm probably older than you."
Lando looks at you, his nose all scrunched up. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-four."
"Hah! Same age."
"That still doesn't mean you get to call me a baby!"
"Her birthday is in January; different year than Lando's. Lando, you can call her a baby; you're older," Carlos says.
"Carlos!" you snap. "Don't give him permission!"
Carlos grins and shakes his head as he breaks off to chat with some of his other friends and get on the cart with them.
Lando grins, giving a discreet pat on your lower back as he murmurs, "Sorry, baby."
And for some reason, that makes you feel things. You decide to blame it on the fact that Lando's just good-looking.
Once you're all seated down with your lunch, you comment, "So what's with the whole..." your hand goes to your chin, referring to his facial hair, as you look at Lando expectantly.
Lando slams down his fork, saying lightheartedly, "Sick of people asking me that!"
You smirk. "Makes you look like you're forty."
"Whatever, baby."
"You know, I have a picture on my wall of you and Carlos when you were just babies, too."
As soon as Lando raises an eyebrow with a smirk, you know it was a mistake to word it that way. "You have a picture of me and Carlos on your wall?" he asks, mock condescendingly.
"No, no. I mean, I do, but- It's just an old McLaren poster." You immediately look down.
"What, are you a fan of mine?" Lando teases further.
"No! I'm a fan of Carlos, and you just so happened to be his teammate at that time. The point is that you two look like pipsqueaks in that photo! Lando, you looked so awkward, with all your acne-"
"What, Lando, you think she's a McLaren fan? She's sold out for Ferrari," Carlos interrupts.
"Literally! I deck myself out in red every Sunday!"
"Today's Sunday," Lando starts like the stupid idiot he is, "And I don't see you wearing red."
You groan, leaning back, covering your face in your hands. "Carlos, how are you this guy's friend? He's so annoying! Why'd you invite him for? How do you put up with him?"
Carlos just smirks, patting your shoulder, and says, "I'm used to having to put up with irritable people, after having to grow up with you."
You roll your eyes, fighting off a smile as all the guys around you at the table laugh out loud.
On the car ride back, you're mostly silent, your thoughts swimming with one thing and one thing only.
Lando Norris.
And there's a soft smile on your face as you think about your morning with him.
But Carlos can tell you're deep in thought. Usually, you'd be yapping away right now. "Anything on your mind?" he asks carefully.
You sigh. "Not much."
"You're bad at lying. You're staring out the window dreamily. What's on your mind?"
You sigh. "It's stupid. You'll make fun of me."
"I'm not stupid, though. I can already guess what it is."
You gulp. "How?"
"For the whole day, the only person you talked to was Lando."
You feel your stomach drop. "It's nothing serious, Carlos. He's just funny."
"You said something like that to me about Ferran Torres right before you officially started dating."
That makes you feel a bit sick. "Carlos, I won't let that happen again."
"Don't. And don't be getting interested in anyone until you're over your ex. And we both know you're not. And please don't be getting interested in someone like Lando."
"Why?" You eyebrows scrunch together. "I thought you two were buddies."
Carlos grins teasingly. "If you somehow got yourself with him, there would always be two annoying people in one place."
"You're intolerable!" you snap, laughing.
"You are too, hermana."
It strikes Carlos as strange when the first thing Lando says to him the weekend of Bahrain, before even a hello, is: "Is your sister here?"
"Why do you want to know?"
Lando shrugs. "She's nice."
"No... She'll be coming to Australia, though..." Carlos can't help but feel suspicion fill his chest. He's always been somewhat protective of you, being his little sister and all.
"Perfect," Lando grins, and he's off.
In Australia, like any other race, you're decked out in your red. Ferrari hat, Ferrari jacket, red jeans. Ferrari earrings. Even your black shoes have a stripe of red on the sides.
Carlos always tells you it's dumb. But it's become a part of your whole thing, since you spend a huge amount of your life following Carlos around and going to Grand Prixs.
It's fun sometimes, being Carlos Sainz Jr.'s sister!
But when you see a shock of papaya in your red world called Ferrari's hospitality, you squint, slipping your sunglasses up on your hat, and say, "Who said you could walk in like that uninvited?"
"No one," Lando grins, "but I'm only here to see you."
Your eyebrows raise as you stand up. "Wha-"
"Come with me. I'm going to barf if I have to breathe Ferrari air any longer. Just your terrible get-up is making me nauseous. I guess I'll be free from seeing that stupid outfit next year when Carlos isn't in Ferrari-"
"Oh, shut it, you!" you snap, but follow him with a grin on your face.
"So you broke up with your Barcelona man?" Lando start, cutting straight to the chase.
"Uh-" you swallow. "He broke up with me."
"Yeah? Why's that?"
You're not sure why Lando wants to know, and he certainly doesn't have any reason to know, but still you say, "We had been dating for a while, you know? I wanted something more. You know, to go deeper. Someday, I'd love to even maybe get married. But, Ferran... well, he didn't want to go the step deeper. Said he wanted to focus on his career. He broke it off. We're on fine terms, though."
"Ah..." he nods slowly. "That sounds like a tough breakup."
"Yeah... Yeah, it was."
He continues nodding, and catches your eye before saying, "So I'm assuming you want to... you know, you won't be up for any more relationships any time soon? Lot to work through?"
You suddenly feel your face begin to heat up. "Uh, well- depends on who it is, I suppose," you blurt without thinking.
"Hm?" He raises an eyebrow. A little smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Well, considering the fact that your face is just about as red as that Ferrari hat on your head, I'm wondering what you think of me."
You swallow, feeling even more embarrassed. "Are you suggesting...?"
"If you're up for it, the night after the Grand Prix, you can meet me at my hotel room, and we'll go from there. Text me if you decide 'yes,' for the details."
"I don't have your numb-"
He gives a cute little smile and opens his hand to reveal a folded up piece of paper. "Now you do. See you later, Miss Sainz!"
You stand, dumbfounded, as he jogs off.
"Oh my God, Carlos! Well done! So well done! Oh my God!" you scream in the midst of your strings of excited swear words, in both Spanish and English. "Did you actually just win the Australian Grand Prix?!"
He grins as he kisses your cheek, patting your back and saying, "Yes, I actually just did."
You hug your older brother tight, resting your head on his shoulder. "Love you. You did amazing. After everything you've been through. You're going to be leaving Ferrari next season and with your surgery and everything and-"
He smiles a bit. "Want to let me go now? Can't squeeze me too tight, remember?"
"So you can drive a race car and win the race, but you're too fragile for me to hug you!" you laugh, but release him from the hug.
He laughs out loud. "Yes, pretty much."
Hours later, you stand in the lit, mostly empty hallway, knocking on the white-painted door. You've change out of your Ferrari red head-to-toe fit, and are now wearing a black t-shirt with the F1 logo in red on the left side, black sweatpants, and your hair held back by a headband.
Lando probably isn't here, you think as you wait. I look so stupid. He doesn't care as much as he acts like he does. He's probably out partying or something. He got a podium. Carlos won. There's no way he's just sitting around in his hotel room-
You look up in surprise as the door clicks and swings open to reveal Lando Norris standing before you.
You beam and say a bit too loud, "Lando!"
He laughs. "Hey..." He's dressed in a white button down, dark blue jeans, and his regular assortment of jewelry. "Want to come in for a bit?"
You nod. "Were you... just out?" you ask slowly.
He chuckles again, plopping down on the sofa. "If I were just out, I wouldn't be looking this neat."
"Oh... Oh?"
"Come on. Sit down next to me," he encourages with a wave of his hand. "Something funny- I've had my eyes on you for a while now."
You look up in somewhat shock. "That's why you're so confident about this?"
"That, and that I'm just the peak of all confidence," he jokes, clearly mocking cockiness.
You roll your eyes.
"But really. I've been flirting with you for a while."
This time your eyes widen. "No way."
"Just little. I knew you were dating that Torres-"
"How?"
He smiles. "Doesn't take much to find out. Anyway, I think you just blocked it out because you were dating someone else. Shows you're a loyal girl."
"Hm..." you nod slowly. "I... I suppose...?"
Suddenly, he takes your hand in his. "So, you like me?"
"I think I have for a while. Like you said- I blocked it out because I was dating someone else." You didn't even know that until now, hearing the words coming from your mouth.
He smirks. "Even better. So..."
"Yeah?" you ask, a little glimmer in your eyes.
"I'd like to know what the hell you're wearing."
Suddenly, your face falls. "Uh- I'm sorry- I- I thought we- Um-"
Lando laughs. "Y/n! I'm teasing!"
"O- Oh!" you laugh nervously.
"I was just thinking... Maybe you'd want to go out and celebrate with me?"
"Oh-" you nod. "Right."
"So, do you want to get changed? I'll text you where we'll meet in a half hour?"
You grin, standing up. "Sounds good."
"See you then."
"Holy fuck, man," are Lando's first words when he sees you. You're wearing sunglasses, a form-fitting sequin shirt, and flattering white jeans.
"What?" you ask anxiously. "Is it too much?"
"Too much? Y/n, you're gorgeous."
You sigh in relief. "Alright good... And- one thing."
"Hm?" Lando asks, an eyebrow raised.
"I don't know if we... could we say we're... that you're my..."
"Partner? Boyfriend?"
You swallow. "Sure. I think... I think I'm good with that. At least for tonight."
He nods.
"But let's not make it clear here. I don't want the way for everyone to find out about this being, you know, by nightclub pictures on the internet."
He smirks a bit, nodding. "Fair enough, then. Let's go."
"Rise and shine! Let's hit the grind, Y/n!" an unfamiliar voice wakes you up.
You roll over to see Lando's handsome face looking down at you. You're in his hotel room, in the one bed. He's all dressed and ready to go, and towering over you, looking like a giddy dog.
You sit up, rubbing your eyes. "I've got a killer headache. What happened last night." You feel disgusting, and wrinkle your nose as you get a whiff of the alcohol scent radiating off of you.
He grins. "I learned that you have no tolerance whatsoever."
You frown. "Unlike you, Norris, I'm not getting drunk all the time! Now, tell me what really happened!"
"Nothing much. Just a lot of fun," he sits down next to you, "and it's a shame that you can't remember any of it." He chuckles a bit, saying, "You got fucking wild. You were more fun though before you got absolutely drunk out of your wits."
"You didn't do anyth-"
"No, no!" he rolls his eyes. "Besides, Carlos was there. I wouldn't dare. You at least remember Carlos, right, being there?"
You roll your eyes. "Yes, of course I do."
"But you really did completely black out? You don't remember anything?"
You swallow nervously. "No... I don't really remember anything... I mean, I guess..." You close your eyes, thinking hard. "Just dancing... music was super loud, but... that's not anything specific. I don't feel well at all now, though..." You start to feel a bit dizzy at the energy you're putting into trying to remember.
You open your eyes and look at Lando.
He smiles. "Well, it was fun, nothing more. Want me to bring you back to your hotel now?"
"Yeah, I guess..." you nod, cradling your head in your hands. "That'd be great..." You see the wine stain on your jeans. You can feel an ache in your ankle. You just need to clean yourself up.
Lando helps you limp to the car, assuring you that you just tripped. Saying your ankle is fine; it'll feel better in a few days' time.
You're not so sure.
As Lando drives, he knows he should tell you the details, like Carlos said.
But it still feels like you'd be better off not knowing at all.
Nine hours before
Though every single one of Lando's molecules in his body told him not to, he had to keep pushing you off. He sat talking away with some other dudes, and you sat his side, drunkenly trying to wrap your arms around him.
You blubbered softly about all kinds of stuff, a strange mixture of being utterly devastated and overly romantic.
Lando knew. You didn't get drunk this often.
A part of him felt bad. A huge part of him. He didn't think he had pressured you into anything. Certainly not intentionally. And you were the one who kept drinking more. But maybe he did...
Maybe it was his fault you were the mess you were now.
"Lando..." you murmured, your hand gripping his bicep. You leaned closer. "You're so sexy in that shirt." You reached over to unbutton another button of his shirt.
He gently pushed you away for the millionth time. "Remember, Y/n? You don't want anyone to know you're into me this much," he whispered lowly to you, running a hand through his hair. "Remember that, baby."
You pouted. "Ferran broke up with me and made me sad. Can't you make me happy now."
"Not now. I won't be doing anything when you're this drunk."
"I'm not that drunk..."
Lando snorted. "Whatever you say, lovely."
All was going as fine as it could be going. But then Carlos showed up. "Hey, Y/n-" he had started.
But you had interrupted him by slapping your hand on Lando's shoulder, leaning into it, and giggling giddily, "Look at this pretty boy."
Immediately, Carlos's eyes flashed with shock. And then vague panic. And then anger.
"Lando, how drunk did you get her?!" he snapped, raising his voice even more than he already was. The flashing lights on the Spanish man's face helped Lando's anxiety no more.
"I didn't get her drunk at all! I tried to stop h-"
"Yeah, fucking right. Come with me Lando-"
"No!" you had snapped, standing up to grab Lando's sleeve before your older brother could drag him away.
You were clearly biting back tears. "Lan didn't do anything..." You stumbled drunkenly into the British man, who steadied you gently, before helping you sit down again.
Carlos's face remained hard and steadied on Lando, but he spoke no words, as if he was battling in his head what to do.
Lando sighed. "Listen, Carlos. She won't remember any of this tomorrow morning. Let's just not bring this up again, yeah? It was a mistake. Stuff happens. She got wild and had one too many. We've all had those nights."
But Lando genuinely didn't think Carlos had had one of those nights before.
Lando certainly had, though.
"She deserves to know."
"Maybe she shouldn't, though. She's gone through a lot with her ex breaking up with her and everything. And I'm sure your career up in the air isn't helping her cause much, either. She loves you more than the world. And think about how worrying it was for her to see you go into surgery like that, and race right afterwards? The good emotions just hit her, man. But it's probably a lot. She's just going through a lot. She doesn't need the guilt of getting too drunk and acting a little stupid, yeah?" Lando ranted, intently studying the older Spaniard's eyes.
Carlos's eyes slowly softened. "Alright... I won't tell her what's happening once she's sober. Only if I can make a deal with you."
Lando bit his lip, running a hand through his messed up hair. "What is it?"
"I won't say a word to her, as long as you promise to stay away from my sister. I know you're interested in her."
Lando's eyebrows creased together. "What does that men? Why?"
"Quit trying to get with my sister, and then it's a done deal."
Lando let out a shaky breath, slowly nodding. "Alright, then. Whatever. It's a done deal."
Of course Lando didn't intend on following through with his end of the deal.
But when Lando turned around to check on you on the couch, he froze when he saw you were gone. "Where'd Y/n go?" he immediately asked the other guys and girls sitting around.
"The hot Spanish girl?" one guy asked in a painfully slow Australian accent.
"Yes, her!" Lando demanded, his buzzed brain filling with irrational panic and overwhelming confusion.
He lazily gestured and responded, "Went to go dance, I reckon."
And before Carlos or anyone else could react any faster, Lando tore into the crowd, shoving people aside and squeezing through gaps that weren't there, in search of you.
She's drunk out of her mind! What the hell was she thinking!
That's right. She wasn't thinking.
And then, he spotted you, just for a moment. Moving your hips, stumbling about, thinking you were just about the sexiest thing in the room.
"Move out of my fucking way," was Lando's polite way of shoving two guys out of the way.
He could see the sweat glistening on your face. He could see the dumb smile on your face, your high giggles. He could see fresh wine spilled on your white jeans. He could see hands on you; he took no energy to see who they connected to as rage filled his entire being.
And he watched, almost in slow motion, as your ankle rolled on your black stiletto, and you stumbled to the floor with a brain rattling, painful cry.
Immediately, Lando shoved his way to your side, slipping his hands under your body. "My God, Y/n!" he nearly screamed over the music. "You idiot! You beautiful, fucking stupid, idiot! Tell me why I fell in love with you! You're going to be the death of me!"
"Hi Lando," you murmured through tears. "My ankle..."
"Yeah, yeah, I see. Let's get you out of here, yeah?"
You swallowed, nodding as Lando tucked your hair behind your ear. He lifted you to your feet and let you lean on him as he helped you limp out of the club.
"I'm sorry, Lando..." you had muttered hoarsely.
"Hey, don't worry," Lando had responded. "Never apologize for having nothing but a good time."
But he, Lando Norris, disagreed with the words coming out of his mouth. That was his motto, his excuse, all the time. But as soon as soon as he saw you, someone he genuinely really loved, really cared about, living like that?
It made him sick to his stomach.
Speaking of that, as soon as you were outside, you stumbled away from Lando. He steadied you with one hand and held your hair back with the other as you doubled over and vomited, your previously red face impossibly pale.
"Are you done?"
"Yeah..." you gasped after about a minute.
"Alright. Okay. Let's get to my hotel room now."
Lando could barely understand your slurred words as you responded, "As long as we're getting away from here."
Now
You were going to go to the Japanese Grand Prix. But you just wanted to stay home. With a sprained ankle that confines you to crutches and an illness you've picked up, there was no way you were going to fly across the world for a Grand Prix, especially with the potential jet lag.
You lay on your couch and text Lando. You've been thinking, and you let him know that though you really do want to go places with him, you want to go slower.
You still don't know what happened on that night in Melbourne. For some reason, you can't get anything of significance out of Carlos or Lando. But you know more than what they're saying must have happened that night.
You asked Charles, because he was there. He provided a bit more information, but not much. He said he wasn't really hanging around you that night, but that he did see you cuddling with Lando.
When you asked Lando about it, he said you were drunk, it was just you not thinking, and it only happened once. That you stopped after he pushed you off.
And social media shows no one caught it on camera, or anything that night, for that matter.
So at least there's no fans going crazy over anything.
Lando texts you back, saying that he thinks it's best to go slow. Just let yourselves ease into whatever your relationship is going to be.
It's a relief to see he agrees with you on that.
But then he sends another text, asking you to try to keep it a secret. Even from your family, including Carlos.
You ask why, and he responds saying he simply agrees it's good to be private, and he doesn't want Carlos judging.
Though you're not sure about it, since Carlos is not only your favorite (only) brother, but also your best friend, you still tentatively agree to it.
Lando probably has a good reason.
Right?
By the time the Chinese Grand Prix comes around, though your foot is still in a walking boot, you're over your illness, and decide you're going to go for it and make the trip halfway across the world. After all, you've never been to China!
It's true that your walking boot doesn't look the best with your shades, shining silver jewelry, and overalls, but oh well. The most annoying part is literally everyone who even half knows your name (the Sainz part) keeps asking you what the hell happened to your ankle.
And you have literally no response but, "I fell," because you have no more of an idea than them, and there's no way you're about to say, 'Hah I just got drunk with Lando and got so fucking crazy that I twisted my ankle and sprained it! Anyway!'
Yeah, no way.
So "I fell," is the best option you have.
But the most concerning thing to you is that you haven't even seen Lando yet, all weekend. Though you haven't seen each other in a while, you've been calling, texting, and face timing often, your relationship growing a lot.
You chew your lip as you limp towards the McLaren garage. You peek in, scanning for Lando, but only see Oscar.
You limp to him.
"Whoa- What happened to your-"
"I fell," you say, thoroughly exasperated with this. "Anyway, is Lando around?"
"Lando? Uhhh..." he looks around.
Dude, hurry up. I'm not supposed to be here, your thoughts practically scream.
But then he walks in himself, and you grin, waving, "Lando!" you call.
He walks over to you, smiling. "Aw. Look at my little injured girlfr- uh, uhm, mate. My injured mate." He glances nervously at Oscar.
But the Australian just smiles, "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."
Lando nods gratefully, before leading you to a more private place. "Hey," he says softly once you're alone, his hands resting on your waist. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm alright... Ankle's getting better, slowly but surely."
"Oh, good," he almost looks relieved. "That's so good to hear. I'm so glad you made the big trip to be here, Y/n."
You smile softly. "I was starting to miss you."
He grins. "I was missing you, too, baby... I think I could make some time for you this weekend, too. We could just get take out, hang out at my hotel room, you know. No more partying, even if I win, right?" he teases gently, gesturing to your foot.
You snort. "Yeah. Yeah, no more partying for now for me."
Later that night, you lay next to Lando in his hotel room. His arms are wrapped around you, his hand rubbing your back. "Look at me," he murmurs sleepily.
You look up to see his soft eyes looking at you, with so much, tenderness, so much...
love.
You feel a flutter in your stomach. "Lando, how did we get here?"
"What do you mean?"
"Two months ago, I would lie awake in bed, dreaming about and missing Ferran. I was so lonely. Now here I am. Two months, and I'm laying here, in your arms."
He grins a bit. "I bet it's because we're meant for each other."
"That's cliché."
"No, it's not. I really mean it. You know, I had a crush on you even back when Carlos was in McLaren, you were around a lot more, in papaya."
"No, you didn't-"
"Yes, I did!" he laughs softly. "I really did. The day I saw you in the paddock. The day Carlos pointed you out as his sister. The day you flipped your hair and looked at me with those warm brown eyes. And then looked away from me, because in my first season in McLaren, I was the farthest thing from attractive."
You giggle at this. "You're kidding."
"No, I'm not! That was the day that I knew- I knew- that someday, I was going to make you mine," he murmurs, his eye half-lidded as his hand gently caresses your cheek.
"Lando!" you squeak, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. "Don't you dare make me cry for no reason!" You wait a minute, before saying softly, "Well, maybe, just maybe, back then, though you were a pipsqueak, you were kind of cute... And I've always gotten butterflies from your jokes and teasing, even all those years ago, before I was even dating Ferran."
He laughs. "Awww... So you've always had a little bit of a crush on me, too!" You can see by his blushing cheeks and beaming eyes that just this fact is making him feel warm inside.
You roll your eyes, giggling. "I guess, maybe...."
He flicks your nose gently, playfully, holding you even closer. You lay there in more silence, before Lando says softer, even more tenderly, "Hey, Y/n... can I talk to you about something...?"
"Of course, Lando..." Your eyebrows knit together.
You watch as he swallows. Nods. Sighs. "Okay... Something has been bugging me..." He pauses. "I... I feel like I never should have brought you out that night in Australia... you know? Like, beyond the sprained ankle."
Your eyes flash. "What do you mean?"
"Well... You just got so drunk, and... I feel so bad... Like, somehow, it's my fault... I didn't mean for you to get hurt, or to drink that much... I just thought we'd have fun. Like I always do with my friends. And you're my girlfriend; supposed to be my closest friend..."
"Lando," you murmur shakily. "Did you try to get me that drunk? You didn't encourage it, did you?"
He looks nervous. "I genuinely don't think so, but I'm nervous I did... I tried to tell you enough was enough, but maybe I should have looked out for you more... Maybe I should have worked better at keeping you from getting that drunk... But we were having so much fun and I figured you would know your limit... I shouldn't have assumed."
"Lando! Don't blame yourself! It was my fault. I got too drunk, I fell and sprained my ankle. The sentiment of you wanting to look out for me is nice, but when push comes to shove, I'm in charge of myself, just like you're in charge of yourself, and it was my fault. My mistake. M'kay, Lando...?"
He nods slowly, still looking a bit unsure. "Well, Carlos isn't mad at you about it. He's mad at me..."
"Carlos is what?!"
"Ah, fuck. Forget I ever-"
"Lando Norris, explain."
"Whoa, that's sexy," he laughs.
"What?!" you exclaim in exasperation, yet you're still unable to keep your stomach fluttering by Lando's sudden spoken intrusive thought.
He grins, his eyebrows raised. "I don't know. Full name, in such a firm voice? Like, yes, mommy, order me around. I'll do whatever you want me to," he says in a low, goofy, teasing voice.
You can't stop your face from heating up. "Oh, shut it, you!" you snap, your voice cracking awkwardly as you flick him in the nose this time. And you flick his stupid nose harder than he flicked yours earlier.
He giggles evilly, rolling over. "Look at yourself! You liked that! You're a blushing mess!"
"No, I didn't. What a stupid way to flirt."
"Oh, well, I can show you even more stupid ways to flirt. Because, apparently, it doesn't quicken your heart rate at all."
You groan. "You are so annoying."
He leans over, giving you a peck on your lips. "I know. And you know you love me for it."
You forget to ask him again about Carlos.
"Baby, c'mere," Lando says, nodding for you to join him in his driver's room.
"Dude, watch what you call me when there's listening ears around."
Lando shrugs. "It's only Oscar in the other room."
"So? What makes you trust Oscar so much, anyway?"
He shrugs. "I don't know. He's a good guy. And he's not gossipy, like me."
You laugh. "You are, are you?"
"Oh, yeah. I'm a fucking gossip girl."
You laugh out loud at this as Lando shuts the door of his driver's room behind you.
Lando grins. "Anyways, Oscar is trustworthy because he's not the type of guy to have any desire not to keep a secret."
You frown, crossing your arms. "Alright. Whatever. Anyways, why'd you bring me in here?"
Lando shrugs, sitting down on the one chair in the room. "Sit down, babe."
You blink. "Where? On the fricking floor?"
"Uh, no," Lando rolls his eyes jokingly, as if this is the most obvious thing. "On my fricking lap, Y/n. Come on now. Duh."
You can't help but find yourself blush at that as you slip onto his lap. He wraps his hands around your waist, giving you a kiss on the cheek. You smile, leaning into him as you ask softly, "So why'd you bring me in here? Just for kicks?"
He grins. "I need my Y/n fix before the race. You know, it'll make me drive better."
"Oh? Is that how it works?" Suddenly, though, before Lando can respond, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You slip it out and sigh. "It's Carlos, asking me where I am. I feel like I'm under surveillance."
Lando blows a raspberry before saying, "Just ignore it, bae. You're a twenty-four year old woman; Carlos needs to get over it."
"Get over what?" you ask, an eyebrow raised.
"You not being his baby sister anymore. You're my baby now," he murmurs into your shoulder, pulling you closer to himself.
You laugh. "I still can't decide whether you're the worst flirt I've ever met or the smoothest. But right now, I'm thinking the worst."
"Oh, well!" he says, looking up at you with innocent eyes, batting his lashes. "Doesn't matter to me, because either way, you like it! Anyway, back to before Carlitos had to interrupt-"
You giggle as he begins kissing your face and say, "Carlitos? I'm not even allowed to call him that without him going psycho man on me-"
"Mmm... Can you talk less? It's cuter when you do that giggle thing," Lando murmurs between kisses.
This causes you to laugh out loud. "Sometimes, Lando, I think you're so weird." You realize, in a strange way, though, Lando is right. Because of the giddy feeling of literally having your boyfriend shower you with kisses and love, you're just kind of trying to find anything to talk about.
But maybe you should just take one moment to shut up.
You lean into the kisses, exhaling slowly. Contently, despite your pounding heart and sweating neck.
Finally, you feel as though your face is absolutely, completely covered in Lando's kisses. You sigh, contented, as Lando kisses the tip of your nose, and then pecks your lips.
You giggle, opening your eyes to gaze into his.
But his eyes flutter shut as he leans in, his hand slipping to the nape of your neck. And his lips meet yours again, this time in a real kiss. You shut your eyes, enjoying those lips on your own, sending tingles throughout your whole body, causing your breath to grow heavier and heavier. Desire pulses in every beat of your heart, causing the passion in the kiss to build and build. Your right hand falls into his chest as the other knits itself in his curly locks. You feel Lando's hand on your hip as his fingers snake under to grip your ass gently. You can feel his hot breath on you, in you, apart of you, as his other hand gently stroking your neck, giving you little twitches of longing for more. Your tongues find an art of lingering exploration, Lando's hunger seeming to never be satisfied as his tongue and lips tease your nerves, the emotional and physical connections between you seeming stronger than ever. His hand slides down your neck to your back, pulling you closer to him, so your chests are pressed into one another.
Suddenly, though, there's a pounding on the door of Lando's driver's room. Your eye cracks open. Lando's squeeze tighter shut, his eyebrows creasing together, as if he wishes so much that this never has to end.
Lando grunts, finally pulling away. Oscar's voice on the other side of the door saying Lando's name seems to be in another, insignificant world. You're both gasping as you study each other's eyes in a certain awe.
A soft, mischievous smirk appears on Lando's lips. Those lips that now you can't stop staring at. "Was your first kiss with Torres that hot?"
You let out a breathy laugh. "Definitely not."
There's a pause, of just softly smiling, gazing into each other's eyes, before Lando breathes, his eyes half-lidded, "My fucking God," He gently, slowly strokes your warm, pink cheek. "Did I ever tell you how head over heels I am for you?"
Before you can respond, Oscar's voice says again from outside, "Lando, if you don't respond, soon, I'm coming in."
Lando groans again, leaning his head back, "You can't! The door's locked!" He then adds under his breath, "Fucking Osc, interrupting as soon as I was going to take it to the next step."
At this, you blush even deeper. "You were-"
Lando waves his hand dismissively. "I would have checked with you first."
You nod, breathing deeply.
"Alright, baby," he sighs, running a hand through his hair, ruffling it up a bit. "Let's go see what the hell Oscar wants."
When the door swings open, Oscar can't help but chuckle how how much, in that moment, you two look like some snarky super villian duo, about to give him some cheesy monologue. You both stand, arms crossed, practically back to back. Lando wears a scornful grin and you display a glare as hard as stone. Even your clothes- Lando's racing clothes and your head-to-toe Ferrari red, finish off the silly look.
"What's so funny?" you demand upon seeing the Australian's laughter.
"Nothing, nothing. But I hope you guys know: These walls are not soundproof."
"What are you suggesting?" Lando snaps. "You couldn't have possibly heard anything, you idiot!"
"Whoa, whoa! I didn't! I'm just saying!" Oscar says, going on the defensive, putting both hands up. "Me and my girlfriend don't lock ourselves in my driver's room before the race, losing track of time and forcing you to go get us!"
"You and your girlfriend are probably going to buy a house with a white picket fence and have 2.5 children and a golden lab! Oscar and Lily is bad enough, but I'm surprised it's not John and Emily!"
"Whoa," Lando says, laughing as you walk out of the driver's room together and he shuts the door. "Shots fired. Calm down, Y/n; jeez."
But Oscar's laughing, too, so you know there's no need to apologize.
"Lan... You know I wasn't kidding earlier when I said I won't go out, right?" you say nervously as you walk into his hotel room, rolling your suitcase from your own hotel room.
"Yeah, I know you weren't. I wasn't kidding, either."
"So... What?" you ask, sitting down on the edge of his bed, crossing your arms. "You're planning on going alone? Then why did you bring me to your hotel room-"
"Y/n," he suddenly says, leaning down to gently grab your chin and look you directly in your eyes. "I'm not going anywhere tonight. I'm staying right here."
Your jaw actually drops. "I'm sorry, but who are you and what have you done with Lando Norris? Because that man would never miss an opportunity to party."
This makes Lando let go of you and break into a fit of laughter. "Y/n!" he breathes. "What the hell are you talking about? Before that, I would never miss an opportunity to spend time with you."
You stare. "Okay, actually. I'm being serious now. What did you do with Lando?"
You watch as your boyfriend chuckles, sitting down next to you. "Baby. I'm not going to go out clubbing while you sit in a hotel room alone. And there's no way I'm taking you out again; my guilty conscience can't take that, and neither can your sprained ankle. So why not celebrate P2 here, just you and I, hm?" he says in a low tone.
Immediately, at this suggestion, you blush. "Oh, uh, Lando... I, uh... I don't know if I'm ready for something... you know... for that... right now... Not yet... You know, it's too early for me in our relationsh-"
Lando suddenly breaks into laughter again. Oh, that sweet, silly sound. "Y/n! My God, what a dirty mind you have! I wasn't thinking that at all-!"
"You, Lando Norris, are saying I have a dirty mind?! I bet you really are his doppelganger!"
He crosses his arms. "Only reason why I wouldn't suggest that is because I know you're not ready. Which is more than one hundred percent fine with me. I wasn't even thinking about that, anyway."
"What were you thinking, then?"
He smiles with his eyes. "Well, let's both get ready for bed," he begins pulling his shirt off over his head as you absolutely bear your eyes into him, "And once we're both ready, I'll meet you back... here...?" His confused face slowly turns to one of teasing nature when he sees your eyes trained intently on his bare chest. His perfectly toned abs. His perfectly shaped pecs. His strong, straight, tan back. The little brown beauty marks sprinkled all over his torso. You would love to kiss every single one of them. "Why don't you take a picture?" he smirks stupidly. "That way, it'll last longer."
"Oh, shut up," you murmur, licking your lips as you tear your eyes away from his bare middle. "You can shower first," you murmur.
Once you're both all clean and ready, you snuggle up under the blankets, only to find your arm brushing against Lando's bare skin.
You feel your heart flutter as you murmur, "Are you not wearing a shirt just to bother me?"
"What, no," Lando says, overly innocently. "I never wear a shirt to bed. Just like I'm sure you never wear a bra...?"
If you were embarrassed before, now it's ten times worse. You specifically decided to wear a bra, to avoid... that. And now here Lando is, bringing it up like it's the weather.
"Uh..." you begin.
"Anyway!" Lando says, apparently seeing the vaguely panicked look in your eyes. "Wanna just watch a show or something?"
"Yeah," you nod. "That sounds good."
Lando turns some stupid show on his laptop, and as you snuggle and it gets later, you become more relaxed. You lean your head on Lando's shoulder as he plays with strands of your smooth, wet, dark hair. Your hands begin softly feeling his chest, just drawing circles and feeling the shapes of his abs.
Everyday, you seem to get to know Lando more and more- inside and out.
He sighs, contented, and murmurs sleepily, "That feels nice."
You smile, nuzzling into him.
"I saw Barcelona and Madrid played today," he comments as your fingers continue stroking the abs under Lando's soft skin.
"Yeah... El Clásico..."
"You don't sound as excited as I thought you would. I thought you were big on Madrid."
"Yeah, I am... Just having been keeping up with La Liga lately, I guess."
"Hm... Well, would you like it if I could find some way to watch the game...?"
You smile softly. "Hm. Yeah, maybe that wouldn't be so bad..."
Lando nods, and soon, you're cuddled up with your boyfriend, watching your favorite team play against FC Barcelona/your ex's team.
It feels weird, but you like it.
You decide your bra isn't very comfy and slip it off under your shirt before tossing it across the room.
"You're finally over being embarrassed with me?" Lando teases.
You smile softly, shutting your eyes. "At least for now. Too sleepy to care."
He smiles back. "You're cute when you're sleepy. Cuter."
Soon, though, Lando is gently shaking you, murmuring, "Look. Your ex was subbed on."
"Hmmm? What about Fer?" you murmur with a yawn. You must have dozed off for a bit.
"Fer?" Lando asks, his nose scrunching up. "Yeah, Ferran Torres."
Your eyes flutter open to see your ex-boyfriend running onto the pitch. You feel a sudden, unexpected pang in your chest. When you and Ferran were still together, you watched him do that so many time, with a sense of pride and excitement.
But now, you don't feel much at all. It's no different from anyone else going out there to play.
But, like a train, memories of the past begin to hit you.
Going for walks with him. Cheering him on at finals. Hanging out with his teammates. Working out with him. Bringing him to the Barcelona Grand Prix. Exchanging gifts on birthdays and holidays.
Just all the little things you used to do.
Like snuggling with each other on late nights after Barcelona won.
Not unlike what you and Lando are doing right now.
Suddenly Lando's arm around you tightens, and he says, "You okay?"
"I- yeah..."
Lando leans forward to see you face. You try to turn it away. Lando doesn't let you.
You stare into each other's eyes.
"You're crying," he states softly.
"I guess..." you trail off, averting your eyes.
There's a few beats of silence before Lando states again, "You still miss him."
"I guess..." you repeat. "But... I'm happy to be with you... it just all happened so quick... It's a lot for me... I'm mostly over it- over him- by now, but sometimes things just... make me start to think. Reminsce of what's not anymore."
Lando slowly nods, and begins rubbing your shoulder. "I- Alright..."
"But don't worry. I'm way more happy to be with you right now than sad to not be with Ferran any longer."
"You're sure?" the Brit asks tentatively.
You nod, leaning into him once more. "I'm sure. One hundred and one percent."
"Hey, Lando," you grin giddily before the Miami Grand Prix. "Just drive your best out there, okay? Good luck, baby." You give him a high-five. You can sense he wants to give you a hug, but painfully knows he can't because of the ever-watching cameras and eyes all around you.
But he leans in close, until you can practically feel his breath on your face, and says softly, in just about the most heart-wrenching-in-a-good-way low voice, "Oh, baby... I'm going to go out there and win that race. For you."
"Oh, stop being such a romantic. You're going to make me cry."
He leans in, about to kiss your cheek, but you gently push him off, saying, "You better get going, Lan! Race is going to start soon!"
"Right! Bye bye, bab-"
"BYE!" you scream to overpower his stupid 'baby girl.'
And before you can even blink twice, it seems-
It's lights out....
And away we go!
"LANDO! FUCKIN'! NORRIS!" you scream as soon as you see him, running to him as fast as you can. Your eyes threaten to fill over their brims with tears as you leap into Lando's arms, immediately forgetting about hiding your relationship.
Right now, that just seems too silly to care about. It doesn't matter enough.
Your boyfriend is a race winner.
The racer winner!
He leans back with the most joyful, most romantic, most adrenaline filled, most glorious look in his eyes as they search yours. His hand slowly strokes your cheeks as he purrs, "I told you I would win it for you, didn't I?"
"Lando-" you begin in excitement, but are interrupted by Lando's lips on yours, aggressively, passionately leaning into yours, flooding all his emotions into you, sharing his dream coming true with you.
For some reason, you begin to cry. Flows of tears, flooding down your cheeks as you kiss each other, and your heart pounds at a million kilometres an hour. His hands grip your waist tight, and the moment-
It all seems so perfect.
Right now, you don't care about the fact it was supposed to be secret. You don't care about what Carlos will think or say or do, or what fans on social media will post. None of it matters.
In this moment, the only two people that matter are you and Lando, in a symphony of amorousness, standing on the top of the world.
In this moment, you and Lando, both in sync, know this is the right time. Though it's been merely three months of being in a real, serious relationship, it feels like several lifetimes.
You don't care about the shock of other people, or the cameras flashing and clicking and filming.
All the sudden, you're proud of it.
You want everyone to know, no matter how they'll react, that you're Lando's, and Lando is yours.
When you finally break away from each other, Lando's smile remains as he gazes into your eyes.
"Are you crying too?" you giggle softly as you spot a glint in his eyes.
"What? Me, crying? No, I'm not crying! Of course I'm not crying!" he says teasingly, hastily wiping at his eye with his thumb. "You're the one crying! But anyway-" He slips the papaya McLaren cap off his head and plops it on yours, saying, "Won't be needing this for the top step. Besides," he smirks, leaning in closer. "Enough with all this Ferrari stuff. I think it's finally time for you to admit: Papaya looks best on you. Papaya's your color."
As you watch him jog off after that, stunned, you feel pleased.
Finally, for once, content.
That's right. My color isn't white, or blaugrana. It's not Ferrari's red, either.
I'm a papaya girl.
His papaya girl.
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no-144444 · 2 months ago
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lovers in denial- l.sargeant
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Day 27 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist
summary: you and logan don't get along. or do you?
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You walked across the track, a sigh on your lips as Lando shuffled you into the McLaren garage. 
“He wants to see you,” he bargained. “Please just play nice.”
“I’m always nice, he’s the dickhead!” You argued. 
“Y/n,” he warned. “Just be fucking normal.”
You rolled your eyes and sighed but obliged. You felt bad for him, He’d been dropped mid-season and didn’t even get a proper goodbye. You were livid for him, but he didn’t need to know that. Logan Sargeant, the American man, now an Indycar probable, and in front of you. 
“Hi Logan,” You smiled. “Nice to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too.” 
“How have you been?” You asked. 
He nodded, the smile on his lips not quite reaching his eyes. “I’ve been good. Golfing.”
You rolled your eyes, your deep hatred for golf showing. “Bored then?”
He chuckled. “I missed you.”
“We miss you on track,” Oscar said.
You stared at Logan, knowing what he meant with his words. 
The night in Italy. 
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You were dancing in a club, free of inhibitions and worries, slightly drunk and much too loose with your movements, and you hit into a hard chest.
“Sorry!” the American man rushed out, grabbing your hips to steady you. “Y/n?”“Logan?” you questioned. There he was, in front of you. Your enemy. Being a Haas driver, you were often in fights with a Williams, and Logan was usually the one to take you both out. You hated him. He hated you back.
“Congrats on today, p5,” he nodded, the tension building between the two of you. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the red lights flashing in the club, or the ‘winner’s spirit’ you were experiencing, but he looked good. 
“Thanks,” you flashed your signature smirk. “Wanna dance?”
He nodded, smirking, He wrapped his hands around your waist and you both swayed to the music. It was like the rest of the club fell away, just you two, just him. He hands on you, his breath in your face, his eyes on you. He was in love with you. He always had been. He loved your competitive spirit, your bright smile, your brilliant mind. All of you. 
“This is the part when you kiss me,” you whispered, running your hand through his hair as he brought you impossibly closer. 
He didn’t waste time. He pressed his lips to yours, and he knew you both felt it. The sparks between you and the way you fit perfectly. Like you were made for each other. The kiss was teeth and tongue, both of you desperate for something unexplainable, both of you in search of each other, in search of more, in search of love. 
You pulled back, panting heavily. He did the same. He offered you a soft smile, and suddenly you were much more sober. You didn’t hate Logan. You hated not being with Logan. You hated not being the one to make him laugh. You hated not being the one he hugged, kissed, and fucked. 
You ran out of there. It was all too much, too fast, with little time to process. 
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“You good?” Lando asked, staring at you. 
“All good, nice to see you Logan, bye guys,” you smiled, trying to just get out of there. 
“Fuck!” he cursed. “I knew I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“You didn’t though,” Oscar argued. 
“I insinuated it, come on,” Logan argued back. 
“Jesus dude, you must really like her-” Lando started 
“I don’t like her-”
“Exactly, you love her,” Oscar sighed. “We need a new plan.”
“You two have a race to win, I’ll think about it,” Logan promised. “Good luck.”
He was left to think over everything, how did he get you, and get you back?
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
fic-tober masterlist
taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi @linnygirl09 @lanadelray1989 @teamnovalak @gleeblegnarp
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gothgoblinbabe · 3 months ago
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✮ Monster Mash ✮
Logan Howlett x fem reader
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A/N: I wanted to do something for spooky month and I’ve been dying to go to Monster mini golf because. I mean. Look at it. Does that not look so fun. It’s so fun. I haven’t been since I was little and I’m determined to go soon - anyway, I wanted to explain that if you don’t know what that is, it’s a chain of indoor mini golf courses that are hand painted in neon paint and have all these cool monster statues and themed holes. Also an arcade <3 I fucking love the arcade 
I even included some pictures in the moodboard!
Yes I did laugh like a twelve year old boy every time I wrote “hole” so get the giggles out now
Summary: Picking a group activity was never easy, but with Halloween right around the corner, you came up with the perfect idea. Even if Logan hated it.
Warnings: swearing, I think that’s it? Good amount of fluff, This is a cute one
Word Count: 4k
꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ⭑꒷꒦
Team building exercises sounded great when Charles brought it up, in theory. 
You’d all spend one day a week doing an activity together. Each person - you, Logan, Ororo, Jean and Scott - got a chance to pick said activity, decided by who got to pick the week before. It seemed like an easy and fair system - except that some of you were very stubborn and wouldn’t agree to go anywhere half the time.
“I’m not doing that. I don’t want to,” Logan would say flatly, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Too bad,” Scott would always say, “get in the car.”
This week was your turn and you were ecstatic, except that you couldn’t decide on what you wanted to do. Something in you was feeling nostalgic and longed to revisit somewhere you hadn’t been in a long time. You tried to think of what you did as a kid with your friends, what you did for your birthdays or places you wanted to go but never got to. You also figured since Halloween was around the corner, you should choose something kind of spooky.
You knew exactly where you wanted to go.
“I don’t get it,” Logan narrowed his eyes and looked at the colorful sign plastered on the front of the building, “what do monsters have to do with it?”
You stifled a laugh.
“They’re cute.”
“Cute?” Logan eyed one of the monsters painted on the outside wall, “define ‘cute’.”
“It looks like fun,” Jean shrugged, hand in hand with Scott as you all walked in together. 
Monster mini golf was one of your favorite places to go as a kid. The blacklights, patterned carpets, familiar monster displays and neon lights reminded you of simpler times.
Once inside, you all got clubs and golf balls. You tried to hand Logan a club and he shook his head.
“I am not playin’ golf like some yuppie.”
“Does this look like a country club to you?” you gestured to your surroundings, “Logan, it’s mini golf. It's fun. Take the damn club or you can sit in the car for the next three hours.”
After a moment of hesitation, he begrudgingly took it from your hands and followed you onto the little neon course.
“I’m gonna kick your ass at this - just so you know,” you told him. If there was anything that could get Logan to participate, it was to challenge him.
“Oh, are you?” he narrowed his eyes and you knew you had him.
“Yeah, duh! And when I do win,” you smiled and pointed at a distant photo booth in the arcade room adjacent from the course, “you’ve gotta get in the photo booth with me.”
It may or may not have been an excuse to sit shoulder to shoulder in a little booth where you could smell his cologne and see his pretty face up close. Plus, you’d have a strip of photos to help you remember it. Having such a huge crush on him and never saying a thing about it meant that a moment in a Photo Booth could be all you’d ever have, and you still wanted it anyway.
“Deal,” he replied, holding out his pinkie so you could lock yours with his. You can’t remember where it started - maybe during downtime on a mission or a late night talk on the couch in the living room - but every time you made some sort of deal or agreement, you locked pinkies. It was like a pinkie promise to fulfill your end of the deal.
You locked yours around his and he goofily shook your hand all around while he still had a grip on you.
“Okay, okay,” you giggled, “let me go!”
He finally did with a short laugh.
“Okay, Romeo and Juliet,” Scott’s voice made you turn around, “can we actually start playing?”
Logan rolled his eyes and lifted the mini golf club over his shoulder to hit him with it, but you grabbed his bicep and made him slowly lower it.
“Is this gonna be like the last time we all went out?” Ororo asked, “because I can’t do a repeat of Six Flags.”
“We’re still banned for another six months,” Jean pointed out.
“I didn’t think they could kick you out for destroyin’ a concession stand,” Logan shrugged.
“Why wouldn’t they?” Scott asked.
“You started it, anyway.”
“So?”
“So? I’ll throw you through another one, fuckface -“
“Alright!” you interrupted with a false smile, “if either one of you get us kicked out of here, I will personally shave your heads in your sleep. Got it?”
Logan shuddered and immediately brought a protective hand up to his hair. They both nodded and you patted them on the backs.
“Okay, boys! Time to golf.”
You couldn’t even get past the first hole without hitting your ball over ten times.
“This sucks,” you said under your breath. The place itself didn’t suck, but you sure did at mini golf. You did this as a kid all the time - why was it so hard as an adult? Maybe because the clubs were much shorter now.
Except your six-foot best friend was hunched over the little club as he swung and he was still doing well.
“Looks like I’m winnin’,” Logan flashed a smug grin as he hit a hole in one.
“Ugh,” you groaned, letting your head fall back in frustration.
“Someone’s a sore loser,” he teased in a sing-song voice. 
“Yeah, it’s gonna be you soon,” you pointed over to where you saw Scott, who was playing effortlessly. 
“Alright, hey - it’s you and me, one on one. Forget Summers, I’m gonna be the one to kick your ass.”
As much as it probably shouldn't have, Logan’s voice made your heart flutter.
“Sure you are, big cat.”
His eyebrows furrowed when you said the nickname, one you used to tease him often.
“You think ‘roro and Jean are doin’ any better?” he asked, intending to ignore your inherent need to press every single one of his buttons.
You saw the both of them a little bit ahead of you, celebrating as Jean completed that part of the course.
“I’d say so,” you pursed your lips and leaned down to align your club with the ball.
“Your feet aren't right.”
You stood up straight and looked back at Logan.
“What?”
“Your feet are too close together,” he explained, coming closer to lightly knock his boot against the inside of your foot, “there.”
He stood back again and crossed his arms. You positioned yourself to hit the ball until he spoke again.
“You need to straighten your back.”
You chuckled and turned around.
“I thought golf was for yuppies, hm?” you mocked his earlier statement and he rolled his eyes.
“You want help or not?”
You genuinely contemplated his question before answering.
“Alright.”
“Alright.”
He came closer behind you before you could even ask what he was doing. He blanketed his hands and arms over yours to help your aim, inadvertently pulling your back against his chest. He was warm and smelled like leather and pine. You were trying to listen to everything he was saying, but his voice so close to your ear made your head spin and turned your brain to mush.
There was a sudden flash of light and you heard something click. You instantly spotted Ororo with a digital camera in her hands and a wide smile on her face.
“You guys look so cute, I had to!”
Logan rolled his eyes and you shook your head, but you couldn’t see him bite down a smile behind you. If you didn’t ask for a copy of that picture later, he would.
You were so distracted by your thoughts that you almost forgot there was actually a point to him crowding you like this.
“Anyway, here,” he readjusted his hands over yours and pulled the club back a bit to swing, “ready?”
You nodded and he rested his head over your shoulder so he could see the ball and help you aim. You could feel his warm breath grazing your ear.
You felt like your legs were going to give out from underneath you.
The ball went rolling with a light tap and you watched it travel straight into the hole.
“Yes!” you exclaimed, excitedly raising your hands in the air when he let you go. For some reason, a part of you felt bold enough to lean up and kiss him on the cheek as a thank you, so you did.
He was lucky you couldn’t see the tips of his ears turn pink under the black light.
“With your help, I’ll be better than Tiger Woods in no time,” you joked.
“I don’t know about that,” he said with a shy smile, “I’m no professional trainer. Besides, it was all you.”
“You had your hands over mine and swung for me.”
“Again, all you.”
You laughed and motioned for him to follow you to the next hole in the course. The spot was next to a particularly grotesque monster sculpture.
“Ew,” Logan cringed, pointing at the towering neon statue, “he is ugly.”
“He looks like you,” you joked, gesturing to its face.
“Ha - ha,” he said flatly, “very funny.”
Logan shot you a mischievous smile and looked around the room, locking eyes with Ororo.
“ ‘roro! Pull out that camera!”
Before you could ask any questions, he was lifting you up with his arms around your waist and holding you up next to the statue.
“Logan! Put me down!” you tried to yell but couldn’t stop laughing, kicking your feet in an attempt to get loose and failing miserably. He held you tight - not enough to hurt, of course - and practically squished the side of his face against yours. Your cheeks felt hot from laughing so hard - or having Logan so close, you weren’t sure which.
Ororo, Jean and Scott were all chuckling while the picture was taken. The flash went off and you couldn’t help the wide smile on your face that unknowingly mirrored Logan’s.
“How cute are they?” Jean pouted and spoke under her breath, looking over Ororo’s shoulder at the digital camera screen.
“Lemme see!” you demanded as Logan set you down, jogging over to peek at the screen.
You knew you smiled as wide as you could, but seeing him smile so big that his eyes were nearly closed made your heart feel like it would burst.
“I didn’t even know you could smile,” Scott teased him, earning a glare from Logan.
“Hey, you remember six flags,” you reminded Scott, “he smiled when he threw you through that concession stand!”
“I was kind of too busy with my head stuck in the front of a popcorn sign to see it, but I believe you.”
“That was pretty funny,” Logan smiled to himself, “your hair smelled like butter for weeks.”
“Yeah, funny,” Scott rolled his eyes.
You continued the game and having Logan’s guide at the start increased your skill significantly. When you got down to the last hole, you were tied.
“This is it, big cat,” you told him, hands on your hips as he lined up his shot.
“If I win, you’ve gotta stop callin’ me that.”
“Hm,” you pretended to think for a moment, “nah, I don’t think I will.”
“You’re gonna have to in a minute,” he said in a cocky tone, pulling his club back to swing.
When he hit the ball, it rocketed across the carpeted floor and hit the little neon side wall, ricocheting it from one side to the other until it lost momentum. It was nowhere near the hole.
You clicked your tongue.
“Step aside, big cat,” you flashed him a smug grin and playfully nudged him with your elbow.
He groaned in frustration and crossed his arms, watching from behind as you lined up your shot. You hit the ball and watched it roll straight into the hole.
“Ooh, how does that feel, babe?”
You didn’t really mean to let the nickname slip - you called people ‘babe’ all the time - but you didn’t correct yourself either.
“Feels like I let you win, babe.”
Hearing it in his voice made you undeniably giddy.
“Sure, sure - whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night.”
“Well, I can guarantee you one thing,” he started and you raised your eyebrows, “you’d never beat me in Mortal Kombat.”
He pointed into the arcade you’d seen before.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Who do you usually choose to fight?”
“Reptile. Who do you pick?”
“Kitana.”
“That’s..” Logan paused in thought, “a pretty good fight, actually.”
“I’m still gonna kick your ass.”
“Not at this one, kid.”
You were walking hurriedly on the neon carpet like you were a kid again, eager to feed money into rewardless games. You spotted the Mortal Kombat machine almost immediately and tugged on the sleeve of his jacket to get his attention. You made your way over to the brightly colored machine and put in some quarters, changing the screen to the select character menu.
“Ready to lose?” He asked and you playfully scoffed, eyes glued to the screen.
“Whatever, kitty. You still owe me a photo booth picture, so I’m the real winner today anyway.
“What’d I say about ‘kitty’?”
“That you hate it? Oh, yeah, I know, that’s why I use it.”
The round started and you and Logan stood shoulder to shoulder, mashing buttons and driving the joysticks in different directions. It was a two player machine - technically, you had enough room to put space between you, but neither of you actually wanted to.
The first round was over before you knew it, a bright ‘FATALITY’  written across your side of the screen.
“Now how did that feel, babe?” 
Your face felt hot when he used the affectionate nickname and you hoped he was too focused on the second round to notice you were smiling like an idiot.
He was too, though.
“Oh, permanent nickname now?” you tried to play cool while you were still focused on the fight.
“Mhm,” he hummed, “get used to it, babe.”
You could most definitely get used to it.
“Okay, babe.”
You were still with your eyes glued to the screen, but in your mind, you were jumping around and doing cartwheels and screaming in victory.
So, you were amazed that you’d won the second round even while daydreaming about the guy beside you.
“Suck on that, Howlett,” you said smugly, grinning up at him.
“Ooh, so your trash talkin’ gets dirty, now?”
You only laughed in response.
“I think I prefer being called ‘babe’, though,” he told you, looking into your eyes in a way that made your hands sweat. 
“Well,” you tried to calm your nerves, “you’re on, babe.”
The third round would determine who won and you were both locked in. The colored light from the screen painted your features as you vigorously slammed buttons. You watched your health bar steadily get lower, lower and lower before it was empty completely. The third and final end screen popped up and you let your head fall back in frustration.
“See, what’d I tell you? You never had a chance,” he teased.
“It’s Photo Booth time, anyway,” you said excitedly, grabbing his hand and attempting to pull him with you as you walked. He followed you, but it wasn’t actually because you were holding onto him - you couldn’t move him even if there were two of you - but because he’d really follow you anywhere if it meant he could hold your hand.
You passed a row of claw machines and halted in front of one of them when something inside caught your eye. Logan stopped behind you, confused as to what you were looking at.
Smack dab in the middle of the pile of stuffed creatures, you saw her.
A Halloween themed stuffed Hello Kitty, complete with a glow in the dark bow and bat patterned dress. Her small beady eyes stared back at you from behind the glass and you knew you had to have her. It was love at first sight.
“You see her?” you looked at Logan with a deadly serious expression and pressed your finger to the glass, “I’m not leaving without her. We’re coming back after the pictures.”
You found the Photo Booth and eagerly slid into the small space behind the curtain with Logan next to you. You looked up at the screen that showed the both of you and smiled wide. Maybe it was your own bias, but you thought you looked cute together.
You followed the instructions and the photo countdown began. You and Logan looked at each other in mild panic, realizing you didn’t know how to pose.
“Silly one?” you asked and you were both immediately moving to strike a pose before the photo was taken.
You were crossing your eyes with your tongue stuck out and he had his hands up in claws, forcing an underbite so that his lower teeth were covering his upper lip. When the picture was snapped and you looked up to see it, you laughed so hard at Logan’s face that you were nearly in tears. Your laughter was contagious and he was infected immediately, both of you starting to tear up from laughing so hard. You hadn't heard the camera timer over your laughing and when it made the click noise, you looked back at the screen.
You were leaned over Logan a little, your mouth open mid-laugh and your eyes closed. His smile was wide as could be, his cheeks actually red from laughing.
“That’s cute!”
You really didn’t mean to say it aloud but it slipped anyway and you pursed your lips.
“Very,” he said.
You felt the turn and twist of excitement in your stomach. 
“Okay, next one,” you told him, “wanna do a regular picture?”
“Sure.”
Instantly, he slung his arm over your shoulder and leaned his head against yours while you kept your cheek-aching grin. He had a genuine smile, his eyes stuck on your face on the screen. 
It felt like there was something there, something in the air between you, some kind of effect that made your longing for him almost unbearable.
The picture was snapped and you turned to look at him. He didn’t move his arm, instead keeping it hooked around you to pull you close. He looked back at you with a semi-serious expression while his eyes studied your features.
“What?” you laughed, small and nervous.
You were too entranced by him to hear the last photo countdown, but Logan heard it fine. 
Three
You leaned in close to each other, almost nose to nose.
Two 
He brought his other hand up to hold your face tenderly, swiping his thumb over your skin in an affectionate manner. His stare was intense in the best way possible. You felt like your heart was beating so hard it might give out.
One
He kissed you.
He closed the gap and you wanted to squeal in excitement, though you’d wait till you told Ororo to do that. His lips were soft like you always thought they’d be and you reveled in the overwhelming scent of him - leather and pine. You had your hands in the hair at the back of his head, as if you were holding him against you. It was like a dream come true, somehow everything you’d hoped it would be. 
When you finally pulled away from each other, you were speechless. He took your silence as rejection and awkwardly avoided your stare.
“I’m sorry, I - uh, I don’t know why I-“
You pulled him close to kiss him again and silence his rambling. You could feel him relax under your touch and you did the same, smiling against his lips when it finally set in that he had actually kissed you.
“I’ve wanted to do that for awhile now,” you admitted quietly when your lips disconnected.
“Me too.”
He was smirking like he’d beat you in another arcade game, proudly basking in the afterglow of victory. This time, you were the prize, one he never thought he’d win.
“We should probably get the pictures, huh?” You asked and he nodded.
“Yeah, uh, one more thing,” he replied and kissed you again, “okay, let’s go.”
You giggled and followed him out of the booth. He picked up the two strips of photos from the printer on the side of the booth and handed you one. 
All of the pictures came out great, but you were really just focused on the last one. It was perfect. Not only did he kiss you, but now you had proof to remind yourself it wasn’t a dream.
“Hey, how’re you guys making out over here?”
You jumped at the sound of Jean's voice and blurted the first thing that came to mind.
“We weren’t making out.”
Jean tilted her head and looked between the two of you.
“Hm,” she hummed, “okay, then.”
Logan discreetly interlaced his fingers with yours when she turned away and tugged you further into the isles of games. He stopped in front of the row of claw machines again.
You spotted Hello Kitty and looked back and forth between her and Logan.
“I’m gonna get that stuffed cat,” he told you matter of factly, starting the game with a press of a button.
“She has a name, you know,” you informed him, trying to bite down another beaming smile just from the fact that he wanted to do that for you.
“Oh, does she?”
“Mhm, Hello Kitty.”
“I told you to stop calling me that,” he sighed and you started to laugh, taking a deep breath before responding.
“No, no - that’s her name, she’s Hello Kitty.”
“Ah, I see,” he smiled while his eyes were glued to the metal claw of the machine, “Well, I’ll let you teach me all about her when I get her out.”
The metal claw lowered slowly and its talons gripped around Hello Kitty’s rotund head, but she slipped from its grasp the moment the claw started to rise.
“Rigged,” you said simply, “I never win at these.”
“No one does - I will, though.”
“Sure,” you giggled, watching him try once more. He got it but the stuffed cat, of course, slipped from the claws grasp.
“Third try, this is it. If I don’t get that damn thing, I’m gonna put a hole through the machine and get it myself.”
You were going to get that cat no matter what he had to do. It was undeniably sweet to see him so determined to do something for you, especially something as unserious as winning a stuffed animal.
You both watched anxiously as the claw lowered for the third and final time. The talons wrapped around Hello Kitty’s head once more and lifted her into the air. You gasped and watched in silent concentration as the claw took from one side of the box to the other, dropping her into the prize slot.
“Yeah!,” Logan exclaimed excitedly in his deep voice and you giggled at his enthusiasm.
“I mean,” he cleared his throat, “you’re welcome.”
You took Hello Kitty from the prize slot in the front of the machine and held her close to your chest.
“Thank you very much.”
He would’ve stayed at the damn machine all day to get that thing if he had to.
You all decide to leave a little while later, stepping into the parking lot, only to be met with light rain.
“Ugh,” you groaned, looking down at your shoes, “I just got these - if they get wet, they’re ruined.”
“I gotcha.”
Without a second to protest, Logan lifted you up with one arm under your knees and the other around your back. You giggled - something you couldn’t really help when his hands were on you - and grabbed ahold of the front of his jacket. You weren’t really sure why. You told yourself it was to keep him from dropping you, but you knew he never would, especially with how strong he was. Truthfully, it was probably just to keep him so close.
“Go carry your bride to the car,” Jean teased, nodding towards the vehicle parked not so far away. 
Neither of you challenged the ‘bride’ comment.
As Logan carried you the short distance, his hand on your back reached your side so he could poke you, knowing it made you ticklish.
“Ah!,” you squealed and laughed, kicking your feet, “you’re gonna drop me if you do that!”
He did it again and you squirmed, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you from hitting the ground.
Neither of you realized that when you had kicked around, one of the photo strips fell from the pocket of your jacket. Scott saw and picked it up before it could get wet without a second thought, failing to even look at what it was.
“Okay, okay, I’m done,” Logan finally replied, “promise.”
“Promise?”
“Nope!”
He poked your side and you shrieked out of instinct, lightly hitting his chest with your open palm.
“Logan!”
“Okay, really, I’ll stop.”
He set you down and opened the car door for you. You slid in to escape from the rain and he did the same, everyone else piling in after. Scott was in the front seat and remembered that he picked up something of yours. He pulled the paper from his jacket pocket and turned it around to figure out what it actually was, turning in his seat to speak to you at the same time.
“Hey, one of you dropped this pa-“
He went silent and smiled, chuckling to himself.
“What?” Logan asked, but when you saw what was in Scott’s hands, you instantly knew what it was.
“Oh, that’s not - that’s..” you tried to explain but your voice trailed off as Jean peeked at the photo from the passenger seat and gasped.
“Finally!” she turned the picture to Ororo so she could see, “I told you!”
You and Logan both made the same confused expression, looking between the three of them.
“ ‘Told you’ what?” he asked Ororo, who sat beside the two of you.
She sighed.
“Jean said you’d get together in the next month. I said it would be two months, so - she told me so.”
You and Logan were both still very confused.
“So you knew I liked him?” you asked Jean blatantly, but Logan spoke first.
“You liked me this whole time?”
“Yeah,” you felt bashful, “of course I did.”
“I liked you this whole time, though.”
“You did?”
“Alright, we get that you like each other,” Scott interrupted with a huff, “is there anything else you guys want to tell us?”
You were silent but Logan spoke again after a minute.
“Yeah, all the quarters I used in the arcade were yours.”
Scott was visibly grinding his teeth.
“Alright,” he turned back around and started the car, “we’re going home.”
Logan wrapped his arm around your shoulder like he did in the photo booth, lovingly pulling you into him so you could rest your head on him. 
You stayed like that the entire ride home, stuffed Hello Kitty tucked in your arms.
꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ⭑꒷꒦
A/N: If you made it this far ily! and I wanted to say I'm absolutely still working on requests, I just take a long time to write </3
Anyway pls interact if you enjoyed and follow me 4 more!
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l4ndonorizz · 4 months ago
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BET - lando norris x reader
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pairing: lando norris x reader
warnings: suggestive talking maybe?
song: april27 - prayer1
summary: Lando is very competitive and will take the prize even if he doesn't win
wc: 1.3k
Lando leaned on his golf club, eyes fixed on the ball in front of him. The sun was shining, casting a warm glow over the course, but what should have been a relaxing day was instead buzzing with tension. You and Lando, as always, were ridiculously competitive. Maybe a little too much.
„So,” Carlos said, resting beside you with a grin, clearly amused by the brewing competition between you and Lando. „Wanna bet on who’s winning this one?”
You shot a playful look at Lando, who frowned, pretending to be offended. „I mean, it’s obvious. My ball’s going to be closer to the hole than his.”
Lando raised an eyebrow, smirking in that cocky way that made your stomach flutter. „You? Closer than me? In another lifetime, baby.”
Max, standing by the golf cart, chuckled, shaking his head. „You two are the worst,” he said, giving Carlos a knowing glance, who simply nodded in agreement.
Lando adjusted his stance, gripping his club tightly as he prepared to swing. With a calm breath, he hit the ball, sending it soaring through the air before it landed neatly near the hole. He shot you a smug look, leaning in close to whisper, „You’re not beating that.”
You crossed your arms and laughed, pretending not to be fazed by his teasing. „Just watch.”
Carlos and Max were now full-on laughing. „They’re like kids,” Carlos said, shaking his head, amusement clear in his eyes as he watched you prepare for your shot.
Lando’s competitive streak had always been a problem, but today, it seemed worse than usual. Maybe it was the sun, or maybe it was the way he looked so damn good in that black tank top—tanned, fit, his muscles flexing every time he swung the club. You found yourself watching him more than you should, and it was distracting. The way his toned arms moved, the way he smirked when he knew he was winning—it was driving you crazy, and not just in the game.
You stepped up, lined up your shot, and with a smooth swing, sent the ball flying. It landed a little closer to the hole than Lando’s, and you couldn’t help but grin smugly.
„Better luck next time, Norris,” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you turned to him.
Lando’s jaw clenched slightly, the competitive fire burning in his eyes. „Alright, alright,” he muttered, clearly not enjoying being beaten. „How about we raise the stakes then?”
You tilted your head, intrigued. „What do you have in mind?”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear. „If I win the next hole, you owe me something… personal.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his tone, the weight of the suggestion hanging in the air between you. But you weren’t about to back down. „And if I win?” you asked, smirking.
Lando’s eyes darkened with playful mischief. „Then I’ll do whatever you want.”
Carlos and Max, oblivious to the tension, laughed loudly in the background. „This is going to be good,” Carlos said, clearly entertained by the whole situation.
The next few holes were tense, with you and Lando both trying to outdo each other. Every swing felt like it carried higher stakes, every glance between the two of you crackling with more than just competition. Max and Carlos laughed on the sidelines, but you and Lando were locked in your own little world, focused solely on each other.
Finally, it came down to the last hole. You were tied, and your next shot would determine the winner. You could feel Lando’s gaze on you as you lined up your swing, his smirk still in place but his eyes serious now. He didn’t want to lose, and neither did you.
You took your swing, the ball landing perfectly, just a few feet from the hole. It was nearly flawless.
Carlos whistled. „Damn, that’s going to be hard to beat.”
Lando stepped up, lining up his shot carefully. His usual confidence seemed a little shaken. The ball soared through the air, but when it landed, it wasn’t quite as close as yours.
Max clapped Lando on the back, laughing. „Tough break, mate.”
Grinning, you turned to Lando, feeling a little smug. „Looks like you’re all mine,” you teased, the satisfaction evident in your voice.
Lando’s eyes darkened, a look that sent a shiver down your spine. „Don’t get too comfortable, it was just one hole.“
„Don’t be mean, cabrón. It was a fair win,“ Carlos shouted at him, at which Lando straightened up and gave her a slightly more pleasant look.
„So are we wrapping this up? It’s quite hot already…“ Max complained when he got behind the wheel of a golf cart.
"Yeah, let's call it a day," Carlos agreed, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "Before someone melts out here."
You shot Lando a sideways glance, your grin still in place, enjoying the small victory. His competitive streak was something you were more than familiar with, but today, it seemed to push him even further. The look in his eyes told you that losing, even in something as simple as golf, wasn’t sitting well with him.
As the group gathered their things, Lando stayed silent, his eyes never leaving you. That same intense gaze from earlier hadn’t softened—it had only deepened. You felt a slight pang of nerves, knowing he wouldn’t let this slide so easily.
Once everyone was settled in the golf cart, Max drove back toward the clubhouse with Carlos making jokes to lighten the mood, but your attention remained on Lando. He sat beside you, quiet, his leg brushing against yours, making it impossible to ignore the tension that lingered between you two.
"That win of yours... It’s not over," Lando muttered, low enough for only you to hear.
You raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching into a smirk. "You think you can change the outcome now?"
His hand slid over your thigh under the pretense of readjusting himself, his fingers lingering a little longer than necessary. "Oh, I plan on making sure you don’t feel too victorious for long."
You felt a rush of heat at his words, the teasing edge in his voice sending shivers down your spine. The bet had been innocent enough, but there was nothing innocent about the way Lando was looking at you now. You knew that the real competition was just beginning.
By the time Max parked the cart and everyone was unloading their gear, the air felt thicker—charged with unspoken promises. As you all headed inside, Carlos and Max distracted by a conversation about their plans for the evening, you felt Lando's hand brush yours, tugging you gently to the side.
Without warning, he pressed you against the side of the building, out of sight from the others. His face hovered close to yours, his breath warm against your skin. "You might’ve won today, but tonight," he whispered, voice dropping to a dangerous low, "I’m taking my win back."
Your pulse quickened, the playful banter from earlier gone, replaced by something much more intense. His hands slipped down to your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make your knees weaken.
"And what exactly does that mean?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, a mixture of excitement and nerves tightening your chest.
Lando smirked, leaning in so close that his lips brushed against your ear. "You'll see."
With that, he pulled away, giving you one last dark look before rejoining Max and Carlos, who were blissfully unaware of the shift in energy between you two. You watched him walk away, heart pounding in your chest, knowing that tonight was going to be anything but relaxing.
This competition wasn’t over—not by a long shot.
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httpsserene · 1 year ago
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ʟᴇᴛ’ꜱ ɢᴏ ɢᴏʟꜰɪɴɢ ᴡ/ ʟɴ4
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📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: maybe you shouldn’t be late to any event you go to, or bare minimum don’t make any bets you know you’re not going to win. having no hand-eye coordination is not great when you’re being forced to play golf.
📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: i think i’m funny. one or two dirty jokes. and reader does have a lil injury (nothing bad). not edited at all 😎
📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: the doc says 900 words?? it feels longer idk
📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: lando x black!fem!reader (it’s mainly twitch trio focused-alex,george & lando)
📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smau
📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: swang • rae sremmurd
ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: i’d like to remind everyone that the people asked for this hellscape! you 🫵🏽 asked for it. it’s long, like LONG. anyways: max is definitely the type of dude to use the cat emojis. my bad to my charles girlies, he did not make the cut for this 😔 i had to get rid of like three or four ig posts and stories to make this all fit into one tblr post, and none of that had charles content 🫠. also, the plot damn near ran away from me, but it’s barely there—it’s kinda more friend focused than lando x reader until the end! uh there’s one part in here that was inspired by tik tok comments, y’all will know which one 😅 inspired by the fact that my brother hit me with a golf club when i was a child 🙂i think i’m pretty funny so i hope you guys find this funny asl, otherwise what did i do this for?
if you want me to post the outtakes lmk
send me some requests or talk to me pls 😅
want to be on a tag list? tell me in my inbox &lt;3
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georgerussell63
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liked by lilymhe, mercedesamgf1, and 4,100,123 others
georgerussell63: off to a terrible start for golf day. my girlfriends “wife” is crashing the party, and my mates gf is already -4 after two holes 🙂
view comments
lilymhe: light work 💪🏼 no reaction🥱
user: not his girlfriend’s wife ☠️
➥ user: who does he think keeps carmen’s bed warm when he���s not at home???
alex_albon: welcome to watch mojo! and today we’re counting down our top 10 times our gf’s ditch us for each other 🤨
➥ user: and?
➥ user: what else are they supposed to do alexander 😀
y/ninstagram: put some respeCK on my name princling, or next time i see u its on sight 😡 im aiming the golf club straight at you
➥ georgerussell63: you can’t even hit the golf ball in under three tries, or aim anywhere near the holes
➥ georgerussell63: i think i’ll be fine
➥ y/ninstagram: 😟😐 i'll remember this george william russell, ur asking for it
carmenmmundt: george failed to mention that he’s +3 already
➥ georgerussell: like, literally nobody asked you to say that 😒
➥ landonorris: drag him !!! he doesn’t get to say shit about our wife 😤
➥ carmenmmundt: *my wife
➥ user: lmfaooo im 💀
alex_albon
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liked by y/ninstagram, carmenmmundt and 3,431,543 others
alex_albon: ladies and gentlemen, introducing: *my* girlfriend 🤤✨
tagged lilymhe
view comments
y/ninstagram: we MUST stay focused sisters
y/ninstagram: gawd damn‼️ wifey could hit me with that golf club any day
➥ carmenmmundt: fuck the club, i’ll let her run me over w the cart🥴
lilymhe: next hole, i’ll show you guys what a proper stoke is 😏
➥ lilymhe: since our bf’s seem to underperform…on the golf course obv
➥ user: AYOOO?!!
➥ carmenmmundt: okay 😇
➥ y/ninstagram: why r my thighs wet rn
➥ user: dO THEY KNOW THIS IS PUBLIC
alex_albon: i’m at a loss for words
➥ landonorris: this is literally your fault
➥ georgerussell63: can’t believe you mate 🫤
➥ alex_albon: how is this MY fault??! whattddiddiddoo
lilymhe • 5hrs ago
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y/ninstagram: idk y ur complaining? the cart is parked. on its side, but it’s parked😊
carmenmmundt: i think we’ve punished ourselves
alex_albon: should’ve left her ass at home like i said 😒
francisca.cgomes: idk even know why y’all let her drive the cart😨
y/ninstagram • 4 hrs ago
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maxfewtrell: ur joeeee kingggg. ur joe king 😐
francisca.cgomes: i wouldn’t even trust u with the scorecard—but pop off !!! girl boss shit
danielricciardo: SO I HAD TO, GRIND LIKE THAT TO SHINE LIKE THIS 🗣️🗣️‼️💯
lando.jpg
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liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 3,862,431 others
lando.jpg: “i have the highest score out of everybody here! +26 up on y’all hoes!” - y/n
tagged y/ninstagram
view comments
lando.jpg: BRO SAID ABSOLUTELY NOTHING 🥶🥶🔥🔥🔥
➥ maxfewtrell: SHE SOUNDS FIRE 🔥 ON MUTE ‼️💯
lilymhe: SHE GOT A HIDDEN TALENT 🔥🔥🔥 KEEP IT HIDDEN 🔥🔥🔥
➥ alex_albon: no talent ✅ JUST STRAIGHT ASS 💯💯🗣️🗣️🔥🔥
georgerussell63: THIS IS FIRE 🔥 PUT IT OUT ‼️
user: SHE SPITTING BARS 💯💯💯 PUT HER BEHIND THEM 🔥🔥🔥
user: THE SILENCE IS SO LOUD WHEN THIS HITS 🗣️🔥🔥
user: WE STARTED FROM THE BOTTOM 🔥🔥🔥 NOW WE’RE DIGGING 🗣️🗣️🔥💯‼️🙌🏽🙌🏽
y/ninstagram: y u hurt me 😪
➥ carmenmmundt: i think you’re underrated, honestly &lt;; 3
➥ y/ninstagram: aw ty carmie :)
➥ carmenmmundt: I HOPE IT STAYS THAT WAY 🥶🥶‼️‼️🙌🏻🙌🏻
➥ y/ninstagram: bee-eff-eff-aur: be FUCKING for real 😒
y/ninstagram • 3 hrs ago
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maxverstappen1: i don’t want to laugh—man who TF am i kidding 😹😹😹
alexandrasaintmleux: how THE fuck did u manage to give yourself a concussion??!
carlossainzjr: pobrecita😪 how 😭 terrible 😭 can you tell lando to come over when ur done
carlossainzjr: hello
carlossainzjr: niña i can see you reading my messages
landonorris
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liked by carlossainzjr, mclaren, and 6,234,765 others
landonorris: thank you for all the wishes about y/n (not u carlos, you’re in time out). she only has a mild concussion, and verbally assaults me when i wake her up every two hours 😒 to make sure she’s alive 🤗
view comments
landonorris: god forbid i stop her from dying 😱
➥ carlossainzjr: heyyy be nice to her she’s in another world right now
➥ landonorris: u r not slick sainz. don’t expose our affair to my gf when she’s injured
➥ carlossainzjr: she won’t even remember this 🥺
➥ user: sir👁️👄👁️, this is a wendy’s drive through
➥ user: they know this on the internet 4ever right…?
lilymhe: this girl swung the club, missed the ball, and let go of the damn club no follow through
➥ carmenmmundt: it hit the ground and ricocheted back at her
➥ alex_albon: and she got knocked on the forehead hard asl
➥ georgerussell63: the noise it made was hilarious 😂 y’all should’ve been there
➥ user: geORGE WILLIAM????
➥ georgerussell63: i’m mad we didn’t get it on video smh 😔
taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems
© httpsserene 2023
771 notes · View notes
rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago
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il/licit
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words: 2.1k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, unprotected p in v sex, drug dealer!reader and drug dealer!rafe, brief mention of death, marriage, pills
“so proud of you baby.” you press your lips against rafes, smiles barely dropping off either of your faces to kiss.
“thank you princess.” rafe says, giving you another peck before walking to accept his trophy and prize.
when the local country club started their private golf competition, you encouraged rafe to join, never expecting that he would win the whole thing, but he had a perfect game, all the conditions falling into the right place to bring him to the top of the leaderboard.
you watch with pride in your eyes as rafe takes various pictures with the president of the country club, someone of the wives of the other players, all elite members in the country club and prominent business figures in the outer banks, congratulating you with a pat on the shoulder.
you take in the situation as the sun beats down on your face, an idea sparking.
it's not until a week later that you bring it up to rafe, not wanting to spoil his win by admitting while he posed with his trophy that you were forming a plan.
“i think we should legitimize. get away from selling to teens and work upwards. you know all those housewives have pill addictions already, we could become their suppliers, and then you'll have an in with their husbands.” you explain to rafe, hands gesturing as you continue your already thought out plan, a look of genuine interest on rafes face.
“can your supplier get those kind of pills?” rafe asks. he figures you'd already inquired.
“yeah. for cheap as shit too. this is better than coke and weed, rafe.” you finally sit down, having begun pacing like you always do when explaining a plan to rafe.
“then let's do it baby.” rafe nods.
you met through dealing, having sidestepped barry to deal directly with rafe when you saw his potential to reach a whole new higher class kook market, never expecting to fall in love with him at the same time, but you made the ultimate power couple, you supply, rafe deals, you both get paid.
--
“have you found your first mark?” rafe whispers in your ear, seeing the familiar look in your eyes as you scan the crowd.
“notice how mrs mitchell keeps sneaking off? she hates these types of events, shes popping pills just to keep herself from freaking out.” you whisper back, eyes on the woman as she begins to sway again, a telltale time it's ready for her to sneak away and down more pills from the tiny container in her purse.
you smirk as she excuses herself, just as you predicted.
“be right back.” you take a deep breath before walking away from rafe, a comforting squeeze of your waist in encouragement before you go.
you follow her towards the restroom before she ducks into a hallway. you round the corner just as she's digging into her purse.
“you know, if you had something stronger you wouldn't have to take so many.” your voice ringing out makes her jump, snapping her purse closed.
you don't give her time to react, pulling the bottle of pills out of your own purse. you hand it over, a cautious look on mrs. mitchells face as she takes them out of your hand, reading the label. it's the same drug she's already taking, just as a much higher dosage. you got the scoop by plying one of the other members of her book club with drinks at the country club until she spilled.
“how much?” mrs. mitchell asks, and you smile, glad she's not stupid, but it's why you chose her as the first.
“you owe me nothing for this bottle. just spread the word. ive got better than whoever is currently supplying you. get the word around and there will be more where that came from.” you glance to the bottle in her hand before leaving her to swallow her pills by herself. you already know who her dealer is of course, a crooked pharmacist who writes fake prescriptions, but has to keep them in extremely low doses to not rouse any suspicions.
you enter back into the main ballroom, quickly finding rafe chatting to one of the businessmen in town. you stride up, politely introducing yourself are rafe wraps his arm around your waist, well aware that some of the older men may look at you with a predatory gaze and not wanting them to get the wrong impression that you were open to any advances.
“how did it go?” rafe whispers when you get a moment alone.
“good.” you glance at mrs. mitchell through the crowd, her eyes glossed over but relaxed. “she’s gonna get the word out. we’re on our way up, rafe.”
--
“you look so hot.” rafe groans, pressing kisses to your neck as you finish adjusting your dress in the mirror.
“too hot? should i change? it is just bookclub.” you sigh. when mrs. mitchell invited you to join her bookclub, you knew exactly what she was really asking you there for, especially when she slipped you a piece of paper with names and preferred drugs.
“nah, very respectable.” rafe says, reaching around you to do up one of the buttons on the top of the dress, covering up more of your cleavage.
“we should be thinking about next steps. once i have the in with the housewives, whats the next play?” you question, more thinking out loud than anything else, not expecting rafe to have a solid plan yet.
“cameron developments. ward left it to me.” your hands pause over smoothing out the skirt of your dress as you turn to face rafe. he hasn’t spoken to you about his deceased father much, all you know is that he died in a different country and that it was tragic. you never wanted to pry, but couldn’t resist googling a bit about ward cameron, and the business he used to run.
“are you sure baby? we can start our own thing.” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your body to his as a physical comfort. rafe puts on a strong face, but you know sometimes he needs it.
“its already established, has all the proper documentation since we are trying to get more legit. we could always rename it cameron and y/l/n developments though.” rafe smirks.
“what, you don’t want me to take your last name?” you raise an eyebrow.
you can see the surprise on rafes face. you’ve never spoken about marriage before, but you’ve been together for a long time now and are clearly planning for the future as a couple.
“i always thought you were more traditional than that, rafe. i guess i could hyphenate.” you hum, but rafe aggressively shakes his head.
“no, baby, i’m making you mine. all the way.” rafe presses your back against the mirror as his lips find yours, glad that you’re just wearing a clear lip gloss as he makes a mess of your mouth.
“mmm.” you hum, pushing at rafes chest. “can’t be late. would look bad.”
rafe groans, but he knows you’re right, knows you need to give a good impression to all the prominent book club members. “i’ll drive you.”
you nod, grabbing your purse, the one with a hidden compartment in the lining where you’re hiding all the drugs you’re going to distribute, but you’re not worried, not when one of the women is the wife of the police commissioner. 
“you know, it would also look really good to everyone else if we got married. seems so silly to say boyfriend and girlfriend when we are surrounded by all these old married couples.” you tell rafe as he drives you towards mrs. mitchells house.
“baby girl, you don’t have to convince me to marry you.” rafe says, looping your fingers together. “i’ve already been looking for a ring.”
--
“why are half the people you're inviting to the wedding old as hell?” your friend asks as she helps you sort through wedding invitation envelopes, somehow able to stay blissfully unaware of the fact that you are not just a drug dealer but the most prolific one on the island and are working your way up.
“it’s important now that rafe is restarting cameron developments that we stay on their good side. it’s respectful to invite them.” you explain with a shrug. you never idealized weddings, didn’t really have any grandiose ideas for it, and you never thought you’d feel the excitement about getting married like you feel now that you’re with rafe.
“i guess.” she shrugs. “i just don’t want them to be boring.” “boring?” rafe calls out, entering into the dining room, the entire table covered with envelopes and pieces of paper. “is any party we throw ever boring?” he questions, making your friend shake her head and giggle as rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“how is planning going?” he questions, rubbing his thumbs over your shoulders, glad that you haven’t seem too stressed, trying to manage a wedding along with everything else under your belt.
“really good.” you admit. “although i still haven’t chosen a dress.” “budget is no issue, you know that right?” rafe says. he knows you grew up struggling, which is why you turned towards dealing in the first place, but the money is flowing now, not just from the pills you’ve been pushing towards the upper crust, but from cameron developments getting started again.
“i know.” you sigh, grabbing your binder filled with printed out pictures of wedding dresses you like as inspiration. “i just feel like i want so many different things. i think i might do one dress for the ceremony and another for the reception.”
“you’ll look beautiful no matter what.” rafe says, bending down to press a kiss into your hair, pretending to nuzzle into your side as he whispers. “mr. johnson talked to me at the country club today. his wife has some friends who want the same shit she’s on.”
rafe straightens out, glancing over to your friend to make sure she didn’t hear anything before pressing another kiss to the top of your head. “have fun, ladies.”
--
“mrs. cameron.” rafe says, hands rubbing over the sole of your foot after he took your heels off for you, sat on the edge of the bed in your reception dress.
“husband.” you coo back, eyes fluttering closed, partly from the exhaustion of the party, partly from how good it felt to have rafe rubbing your sore feet.
“wife.” rafe leans forward, kissing your shin before moving upward, head hidden under the skirt of the dress as he pushes your thighs apart. his teeth bite down on your garter before tugging it off, flinging it away before standing, tugging at his tie.
you reach behind yourself to work on undoing your dress as you watch rafe undress, baring his muscles to you. “i almost don’t want you to take the dress off. you look so beautiful.” rafe says as you work the dress off of your shoulders before standing up and letting it drop to the floor.
“mmm, thank you baby.” you press your lips against his, pushing his hands away as you undo his pants and push them down his legs along with his underwear. “you’re gonna have to help me get the bobby pins out of my hair before we go to sleep.” you giggle, hair pinned up with a few face framing curls falling free.
“can i help you out of this lingerie first?” rafe asks, rubbing the white lace covering your skin.
“of course you can, husband.” you use the name again, so glowing from the day that you don’t even think about all the pills you have to distribute, or that cameron developments is acquiring some land next week. it’s just you and rafe in your honeymoon suite.
rafe works his hands carefully over the lingerie, for once being patient and not just ripping it off of you. when you are finally completely bare for him, he helps you lay back on the bed, taking a second to pause and look at you lying there, shiny diamond on your finger.
“you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” rafe says honestly. he’s sure if it wasn’t for you he would still be getting drunk or high every night, and low level dealing at house parties.
“i can’t take all the credit.” you hum. “we make a great team.” “forever and ever.” rafe says, draping himself over your body as his hand laces with yours, feeling your ring against his fingers.
you spread your legs before wrapping them around his waist, raising your hips as your cunt rubs over his length teasingly.
“forever and ever, husband.” you nod to confirm, pressing your lips against rafes as he sinks inside of you.
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russellsppttemplates · 9 months ago
Note
For blurb night, carlos and lando taking the kids golfing together
Note: I don't know that much about golf, so please excuse if some term is correct or some technicality isn't quite right!
"You requested to karts, is that correct?", the lady at the front desk checked, "they've been packed like you asked, here are the keys", she smiled as Carlos accepted them, heading outside to see Lando just about containing all six kids into the safe perimeter.
"Sainz little ones, you go with your papa! Norris little ones, follow me!", Lando said after catching the key for his kart, helping Charlotte to the seat next to him so he had more control over his youngest.
"Off we go!", Carlos cheered as she started driving to the first spot.
The idea came from Carlos' wife, suggesting you and her should have a spa day to enjoy yourselves, so your husband's decided to take the kids from you and play golf with them.
"Daddy, do I get to swing?", Matilda asked once they stopped and Lando gave each of them a smaller club.
"Yes, Tilly, after uncle Carlos lets Benjamín have a go first", he said, "let's all take a picture so we can show mummy!", he suggested, setting the phone on the kart and gathering your children. Lando managed to find little matching golf kits for the kids and one of his own that looked nice along with theirs, "looks great guys!", he said after he checked the photo, not helping his smile when he noticed how much the kids looked like him - his little clones, you would say.
"It's my turn!", Matilda yelled, going up to her spot and looking at her father, "I need your help, daddy!", she waved him over.
"You do it like this, careful - yes!", Lando clapped, "Good job princess, that was a very good one", he offered her a smile.
"Clara, amor, you can't be so harsh with it because the club will hit the sand and that's no good", Carlos stated, helping his daughter with it.
"Daddy, am I winning?", Fraser asked as they drove off to the next spot of the course.
"I think you're third, buddy", Lando mused, "the last one you did wasn't so good, but I bet you'll be able to get this one really well! It's very similar to that one we did at the beggining".
"Papa! I got it, I got it!", Mateo clapped as the ball he hit fell on the hole, "I did it! Take a photo so I can show mama!", he asked.
By the time they finished, Carlos and Lando decided to stay in the course for a little longer, the rest of the people playing already beyond that spot which allowed them to get the kids to have some snacks, juice and water before they made their way back.
"We were a daycare for an afternoon, two of us for six kids", Lando stated as he zipped the kids' backpack.
"We did a good enough job, but at least this will tire them out", Carlos reasoned.
"My little rocketship does not look like she has a low battery", Lando argued as they watched Charlotte run around in the grass, giggling and squealing loudly.
"What is it they say? What goes around comes around", the spaniard patted his friend's back.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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