#LAS vegas please please please youre nothing

[mv1simp]

Vegas, Baby (I Wanna Ride) ♥️

Max Verstappen x Friend!Reader

welcome to vegas baby, give me money, give me diamonds, give me rubies baby (get on your knees and beg me please to let you in me)

Tonight's a big night for the Redbull team in Las Vegas. Max Verstappen just won his 4th WDC, and you, his good friend, just won your first F2 race. After months of rising sexual tension, the line between you and Max starts blurring during a wild Vegas afterparty. Nothing beats crowning a 4th championship than passionate celebration sex, right?

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, dom! Max, sub! Reader who’s playing mind games to seduce him, size kink, praise kink, cream pie, morally dubious relationship status but no cheating, drunk passionate sex with max post WDC is literally the epitome of my dreams, 5.3k WC

Max! The blonde Dutchman’s concentration shifts from one of the many post Las Vegas Grand Prix interviews he’s been coerced into to hear your familiar voice excitedly calling for him. His cute smile turns into an even more gorgeous grin as he spots you making a beeline across the media pen, long curls flying behind you. The cameras rapidly start stuttering as you practically leap into Max’s arms when he tightly hugs you back, lifting you up off the ground easily. Congratulations, Maxie! you gush excitedly, beaming up at him with genuine emotion. I’m so happy for you, you deserve this win so much!

Pink dusts the cheeks of the now 4 time world champion from your attention as he looks down at your shorter frame, his muscular arms snugly around your waist. You couldn’t care less about the sticky champagne drenching his suit, because your own RB suit is wet from your celebration of winning the F2 race earlier that day. You too, schatje, Max returns warmly, the paparazzi completely ignored. Winning your first race, in Las Vegas too, from P11? I’m so proud of you! Now you're blushing as he tousles your hair affectionately. You two are just good friends, of course, and Max is in a relationship with a model - even though it's a rather turbulent one. But the F1 gossip mill is always running rampant with rumours about your relationship with Max - especially with the overfamiliar touches you're both now leaving with lingering hands on each other.

The interviewers flock at the chance to interview the F1 and F2 champions together, who provide them with entertaining answers fueled by the 3rd G&T that Max has already started drinking from his Redbull bottle. You smirk and raise your own bottle to cheers against his, making Max’s icy blue eyes twinkle with amusement as he realises you’re very much on the same wavelength of starting celebrations early. Great minds think alike, right Maxie? you wink conspiratorially, making him laugh. The media reps are basically forgotten as the pair of you end up in your own conversation of excited yapping about adrenaline fueled moments from your races, littered with inside jokes lost to the viewers.

When his PR manager calls Max's name, trying to prevent anymore dubious scandals, the blonde looks apologetically towards you, promising that the two of you would have to celebrate properly tonight, okay? You nod eagerly as you watch him go for the rest of his media duties, your smile so wide that your cheeks almost hurt. You’re still buzzing with adrenaline of your own win, and know that your own manager won’t be happy with the pictures of you practically climbing Max to hug him, not an inch of space between you as he pulls you against him. After all, the tabloids love to speculate that there’s something more between the Redbull 3 time - now 4! - world champion and you, the rising talent in F2 with your Redbull Academy seat, and one of the very few women on the grid.

That’s how you and Max had met - on the Redbull practice circuit, the two of you the only ones wanting to practise in horrific conditions of rain and hail. He’d been curious to see another car with the familiar Bull logo out on the track, and then found himself even more curious when the helmet came off to reveal your cutely flushed face and pretty curls that fell down your back. You became fast friends, after you got along your initial awe of 3x WDC Max Verstappen casually giving you driving pointers. He was actually an incredibly humble and loyal friend, and you appreciated how much time he'd spent out of his busy schedule to help you. Meanwhile, Max found your conversation and humour so refreshing compared to other junior drivers who would suck up to him, and you were never afraid to give Max a piece of your mind with your fiery, passionate personality - similar to his. For the first time in months since he'd started dating his demanding girlfriend, who always told Max off for being too loud or making immature jokes, Max found himself genuinely relaxing and speaking freely.

So with all the time on the practise track, and then off the track when you moved to Monaco and began attending the same parties, padel games and hungover brunches with Max, it was no surprise the two of you had become good friends - with a lot of speculation from the public. Many of his fans and friends disliked his current relationship with the pretty model who constantly used Max's name for her own clout with little interest in his passion for racing and e-sim gaming. In comparison, the easy laughs and witty banter seen frequently between you and Max had many conspiring that you'd be a far better match for the F1 champion. Especially in today's Las Vegas interviews, where the growing electric chemistry was palpable to viewers even through the screen.

Of course, you'd never admit to anyone that you secretly agreed with all the gossip columns. You and Max were perfectly suited for each other - but you would never be able to tell him, especially as you didn't have the slightest idea if Max liked you back or even found you attractive since he was so outgoing and touchy with all his close friends. For the past couple of months you'd been secretly pining for him, eyeing his moody girlfriend jealously as she yanked him from celebrations to go home early. You'd starting catching yourself staring up at the gorgeous blonde with heart eyes when he'd patiently explain some new racing tactic to you. No guy could come close to Max in your mind, and you're becoming increasingly sexually frustrated as the object of your desires stayed out of your reach but you aren't hook up with anyone else. So much so that in the week before Las Vegas, you'd started having some very dirty dreams involving a tall, muscular, blonde ending training early and bending you over the hood of his car as he whispered accented Dutch in your ear. Gonna let me fuck you now, baby? You'll take all of my cock, just like I taught you, right?

You knew it was so, so wrong to secretly lust after your friend and teammate like this - especially since he was taken. But tonight, with the thrill of winning your first ever F2 race in frickin' Vegas of all places, at the same time as Max taking his 4th WDC...Well, let's just say you were feeling especially wild tonight. Taking another shot of gin as you got ready in your spacious hotel bathroom, you admire the sight of yourself in the mirror. You're lot more dressed up than usual, out of your racing suit for once . Smokey eyeshadow compliments your wide, doe eyes and long hair you’d blown out in loose curls, all to show off the main view of a tight, sparkly red minidress that pushed up your tits perfectly. You certainly looked the part of a winner out on a hunt for the best way to celebrate tonight, and your best friend agreed as she whistled when walking into the bathroom. Girl, goddamn, that dress looks insanely sexy on you! she gushed, making you shoot her a pleased smile. Trying to catch a certain someone’s attention tonight? she added with a teasing look. Don’t worry, Max won’t be able to keep his eyes off you!

You let out an embarrassed yelp and tell her to shut up, you were not into him like that! Used to your denials, your friend rolls her eyes fondly and tells you you’d been practically moaning his name when you’d been napping earlier, you little slut! She puts you out of your misery when your face goes as red as your dress by adding in that she’d heard his girlfriend wasn’t here tonight to celebrate - apparently, she was pissed he hadn’t flown her out on his private jet and he’d decided to take a break. Winking, she tells you that Max is all yours tonight! You shoo her away but your heart’s nervously skipping a beat with the news. Slipping on your impressive six inch stilettos with glittery straps circling around your legs, you make your way to the after party downstairs.

The bass is thumping, drinks easily flowing and the crowded hotel nightclub buzzing with energy tonight where many of the racing drivers and fans have come to celebrate tonight. You’d meant to go find Max when you got there, but are pulled into excited hugs by lots of your own friends and team members to congratulate you. Soon enough, a few hours have passed and you’re very pleasantly tipsy, giggling and twirling around on the dance floor with your girlfriends and quite a few guys who are running appreciative looks over your pretty figure. But when your wide doe eyes finally meet icy blue across the room, all other men are forgotten and you're making your way over in a heartbeat.

Schatje, Max greets you easily, interrupting the conversations people crowding around him were trying to start. You give him an adoring smile as you wrap your arms around those ridiculously wide shoulders of his when he pulls you into him. The alcohol you’ve both been drinking lowers your boundaries as you giggle into his ears you’ve been looking everywhere for him! He chuckles, telling you that he’d been right here, but you’d been too popular with everyone else tonight. Too busy for me now that you’re a F2 winner? he teases. You playfully push his broad chest, admiring how toned his muscles are under your freshly manicured palm. Maybe, you tease back. I only enjoy the company of drivers who are five time world champions, at least. Seen Lewis anywhere?

Max’s gorgeous blue eyes crinkle in amusement as he tips his head back to laugh, and you're staring up his thick neck, enjoying the sight of his angular jaw and plush lips with a cute freckle you wanted so desperately to kiss. Reminding yourself not to get too carried away until you had some idea how Max felt, you tugged at his biceps to indicate you wanted him to follow you. He easily took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together as you pull him towards the second floor. This was a pretty frequent for you two, breaking off from a crowded party to yap and gossip about some drama or catch up without all eyes on you. Just as you reach the stairs, one of your team’s engineers calls out to you, giving you a tight embrace that lasts a few seconds too long to be a friendly congratulations. You don’t really notice though, too relaxed and happy, and gush your thank you’s to him as he compliments how well you drove today. He’s pretty cute, and you’re starting to get carried away in the conversation until a warm, large palm curls possessively around your curvy hips. A shiver runs up your spine as Max’s deep voice drawls out behind you that he was bored, can you two go upstairs now?

You immediately turn your focus back onto the attractive blonde, assuring him Of course, Maxie! Your arm wraps around his bicep to steady yourself as you two walk upstairs, your high heels clicking against the marble floor. Your abruptly forgotten engineer receives a rather smug smirk from Max. When you’re finally alone in a tiny powder room, small enough that you have to stand close together with the locked door but well lit by an illuminated mirror atop the counter, Max can’t resist a snarky that engineer seemed very into you.

You dismiss Max’s claims, telling him to stop joking around as you leaned into the mirror to repply your lip gloss. No, he was definitely checking you out, Max responds behind you. His already deep accent you’d always had a thing for turns even huskier. Can’t blame him though…you look fucking incredible tonight.

Desire curls in your gut as you gasp at his unexpected compliment, glancing to see Max’s blue eyes locked onto you through the mirror. The Dutchman’s gaze is sharp despite the tipsy flush on his cheeks as it wanders up your lush thighs, accentuated by your stilettos, over your juicy ass and hips before coming to meet your pretty eyes. There’s no denying the hungry expression he wears, especially as you slowly finish applying your lip gloss, drawing his attention to your tempting pink lips. He looks like a lion starving to sink his fangs into his next meal.

You swallow, suddenly feeling a little shy as you avoid his gaze, even though you'd dolled up tonight just for him. You should be saying something like that to your girlfriend, you say suddenly. Where is she, anyways? Max rolls his eyes at the reminder, unamused with the change of topic. Fuck knows, he says exasperatedly. I don’t care anymore, we’re taking a break. You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow as you coyly ask Just a break? What, she’s trying to find a billionaire because a F1 millionaire just isn’t cutting it?

Max chuckles at your not so subtle dig, knowing how you felt about his rather superficial girlfriend. But instead of letting it go, tonight you decide to continue and ask him why he was still with her? He shrugs, telling you it was just easier at this point to stay with her instead of the drama of a messy breakup, and dating hot but 2D models was what everyone expected of F1 drivers anyway.

You narrow your eyes, a little annoyed now, and step closer to Max to announce that’s stupid, since when did he do what others expect of him instead of what he wanted? Besides, he deserved a girlfriend who actually cared for him as a person, who celebrated each of his wins and losses, and on a night like tonight - well, he should be getting whatever he wanted from her, you added playfully. You’ve ended up so close that Max can feel the warmth of your soft tits pressed up against his chest, the heels you’re wearing helping your height. He can't resist admiring at the way your cleavage bounces every time you passionately speak.

Whatever I want, huh? Max murmurs lowly, his blue eyes dark with desire as he suddenly leans down, making your eyes widen and thick lashes flutter. His thumb softly brushes across your cheeks to press against your lower lip, parting your mouth slightly. He’s silent for a moment, choosing his next words carefully, and then - What if all I want is you?

You gasp, both with excitement and shock at the realisation that Max returned your feelings. A coy smile appears on your lips as you press your hands to his firm chest, leaning up to whisper into his ear that he was lucky, then, because you'd been looking for a way to congratulate him properly.

He grins wickedly as you return his hungry look, your normally sparkling eyes now sultry with desire. Oh yeah? he says lowly, large palms skimming your waist. And what were you thinking would be the proper way to say congratulations?

There’s no going back to friendship after this, the blurred line well and truly vanishing. Thank god, because you couldn’t take the sexual frustration any longer. You’d heard that the sex after winning in Vegas is really good…and since he’d ended up winning the championship, he deserved to fuck you long and hard, right?

Max’s breath hitches at your offer, his already semi erect cock hardening. Fuck, schatje, he breathes, his lips so close to yours they’re almost touching. That mouth of yours…I didn’t know it could be so dirty. Makes me want to ruin it. You smile with faux innocence, batting your lashes up at him. Why don’t you, Max? Ruin me, then.

That’s all it takes for his lips to lock into yours, a gentle first kiss between friends quickly turning into a sloppy, heated make out that has you drooling against him. Been wanting to do this forever, Max groans in between deep kisses. You giggle, asking him what his girlfriend would think of that. Who? Max says, looking genuinely confused as he leans in again to slide his tongue in to explore your mouth. Oh, the ex? You laugh into the kiss, knowing any other woman would be out of the picture by the time you’ve shown Max just how he deserved to be treated tonight.

Suddenly you’re being lifted up easily to sit on the marble counter, squealing at his impressive strength. He greedily presses against you, your lush thighs parting easily around his narrow waist. It’s a good thing the club’s bass is so loud, otherwise any passerbys would hear the wet, sensual moans of you passionately making out. Max’s bear paws of hands squeeze your thighs and plump ass firmly, making your minidress ride up so he could feel your dampening panties as you start grinding against his impressive bulge through his jeans. Fuck, schatje, you’re already this wet? Max breathes, blue eyes blown with desire when he pulls back for a second as you both pant. Only for you, Maxie you say adoringly, running manicured hands along his broad shoulders and into his soft, blonde locks. Whatever you want tonight, remember? So tell me, what would the world champion like next?

Max inhales sharply at your obedient words, at how you’re looking up at his darkened blue eyes with so much devotion. It fills him with an inexplicable need to have you all to himself, not just tonight but every night from now. You decide to give him a gentle nudge, guiding his large palms to cup your full breasts through your dress. You keep looking at my chest, Maxie. Do you want to see what’s underneath my dress? Max’s jaw drops open as you help his fingers tug down your neckline, letting it fall to your waist and leaving you half dressed in a lacy navy blue bra.

My favourite colour, Max says absentmindedly, too distracted with the heavenly vision in front of him. When you giggle and tell him you know, that’s why you wore it! he groans lowly, yanking the lace down so your full breasts lay exposed to his hungry gaze. So fucking pretty, he breathes, you look so good in my colours, schatje.

You can’t respond because you’re moaning again from his thick fingers squeezing your bouncing tits, circling your sensitive, hard nipples before latching his mouth over your areolas. Oh, Maxie! Mmm, feels so good! He hums with your tits inside his talented mouth, enjoying your sweet moans in his ears as he leaves a trail of hickeys over your chest and neck. You’re getting wetter by the second, and judging from the large, hard bulge you’re desperately humping, you’re certain Max is just as turned on as you are. But tonight’s about congratulating him, and you can’t get too distracted, tugging at the white t-shirt he’s wearing. Your turn!

Max smirks, and yanks his shirt off in half a second. Now you’re temporarily short circuiting at his broad pecs, ogling his thick upper arms and shoulders that taper down to his slim hips. You can’t resist tracing a path down his defined abs with your manicured fingers, making Max tease you with like what you see, schatje?

You shut him up as your hand comes to rest just above his belt buckle, brushing his blonde happy trail but going no further. Hmm, I’ve seen better, you tease back coyly. His jaw hardens as you come tantalisingly close to where he really wants to feel you. When he wraps his hand around yours to stop your games, you surprise him again when you bring your joined hands up to your lips. Curiosity piqued, he watched you intently as you press the pad of his pointer finger onto your swollen lips like he’d done earlier…and then part your lips to slide him inside till the knuckle. Oh, fucking hell, Max hisses lowly.

You don’t miss a beat, staring right into his eyes sultrily as you swirl your tongue around his thick finger, letting him imagine what else your drooling, wet mouth could do. He swallows when you release him with a pop, only to oh so innocently bat your lashes at him to say did he have anything bigger for you to lick?

Max has a hand tangled in your curls instantly, pushing your all too willing body down onto your knees as he swears, saying if he’d known you were going to be such a good girl for him he’d have fucked you months ago. You whine desperately, making him completely entranced as you press soft kisses to his clothed erection. He unbuckles himself for you, the small room silent except for the clinking of metal making both of you impatient. You gasp when his generously sized cock emerges from his Calvin Klein boxers, his pink tip resting right in front of you. He almost cums right there when you look up at him with those wide doe eyes, the very picture of innocence but your filthy words anything but. It-it’s so big, Maxie. Even larger than what I’d dreamed about.

And then you’re messily kissing up and down his engorged shaft, smearing your lipgloss all over as you pant and drool over his length. Oh my fucking god, Max groans, head slamming into the door behind him. That mouth of yours, baby- Jesus fucking Christ.

He’s rendereded speechless when you begin suckling on his hypersensitive tip, circling it with full concentration just like you’d done with his finger. You don’t break eye contact, pulling back slightly to pump his base with two hands and blow air over his angry, swollen cockhead. Tastes so good, Maxie. ‘M gonna worship your cock tonight, just like my world champion deserves. Your throat goes completely lax as you take his impressive length all the way to the base, gurgling and drooling messily as you hollow your cheeks to suck firmly.

Fuck! Jesus, schat, baby, I’m gonna - Max is panting heavily, cheeks adorably red and flushed as he tangles his large palms into your curls. Go-gonna fuck that insane mouth of yours now, okay?

You hum in agreement, sending vibrations running down his shaft. He doesn’t waste any time then, dragging your face forward and roughly thrusting himself into your wet, slack mouth. Loud, obscene sounds of the dirty blowjob you’re performing for him are filling the air, and there’s no doubt anyone listening in the hallway would be able to tell exactly what going on behind the door. But the both of you couldn’t care less, too far gone. And if your mindblowing deepthroat hadn’t been enough, you’re whimpering in between thrusts that he’s so big, you bet he could fuck your tits at the same time as your mouth-

He doesn’t even need to process that sexy mental image because you’re now using your free hands to cup your bouncing breasts and wrap them snugly around the base of his cock, his leaking tip still thrusting in and out of your mouth. Like this, see Maxie?

Max roars in approval at the filthy display, the warmth of your soft tits sending him over the edge. Gonna cum now, he pants breathlessly. Open your mouth for me, baby, you’ll swallow it all, right?

You follow his command immediately, desperately saying please, please Maxie, wanna taste you so bad, you can cum wherever you want-

He slaps his heavy cockhead against your chubby cheeks first, and then onto your pink tongue as you poke it out, collecting drops of precum from his angry red tip. He’s meanly chuckling as you go cross eyed from his cock whacking your face, squealing with excitement. Guess the only thing that shuts you up is my cock in your mouth.

You nod eagerly, panting with your lips wide open expectantly as you stare up at him, your pretty makeup completely destroyed from the messy blowjob. The sight of you so desperate for him is what tips him over, and with a silent moan he jerks himself off to flood your mouth with a generous, creamy load. So much that you struggle to swallow it, some of it leaking out the corners of your lips to drip onto your heaving tits. But you take most of it just like you promised him, licking your lips rather sluttily before opening your mouth to show him. See, Maxie? Drank it all for you.

He yanks you up off the floor, pressing your soft jiggling chest up against his hard pecs as he rewards you with a deep kiss. Did fucking amazing, sweetheart, he sighs into you. That was definitely the best head I’ve ever gotten. You flush from his compliment, sultry eyes turning shy now from his praise. But the Dutch Lion’s appetite isn’t satiated tonight. He pulls your dress back up, wiping away your smeared gloss and smudged mascara before redressing himself. But we aren’t finished just yet, schatje, he croons as he gently untangles your curls from your dangly earrings. You bite your lip, hanging onto his each word as he says After all, you’d won in Vegas too. He’ll have to show you how good the sex is, now.

Desire darkens your bright, dazed eyes at the thought of Max finally fucking you. You bury your face in his thick neck, wrapping your arms around him as you plead for him to please take you upstairs, you needed him so bad, you couldn’t take it anymore.

He chuckles at your cute begging, discreetly leading you down the hallway that’s thankfully empty while keeping you firmly pressed to his chest. As much as he’d wiped away the streaks of mascara, any of your friends would only have to take one look to know what you’d been upto. The ride up the discreet service elevator is another test of self restraint, the camera in the corner stopping the both of you from outright debauchery. But you can’t stop weakly grinding against Max’s muscular thigh that separates your plush legs, clinging onto him as he whispers dirty things in your ear with that Dutch voice you loved. Tell me what kind of naughty dreams you’ve been having about me, he demands. And of course, you oblige, turning his ears pink and voice huskier when he finds out just what you’d been secretly pining for.

He lifts you up, your legs straddling his waist easily when you finally reach your floor, an carried you down the hallway. After you’re clumsily swiping your room card with Max’s very distracting lips leaving kisses to your throat, you find yourself inside your dark hotel room at last. The Vegas city lights stream in from the floor to ceiling windows, illuminating Max’s handsome form as he looks down to drink in the pretty sight of you. Fucking finally, Max groans, ripping his shirt and pants off in one go and kicking his shoes to the side. He wraps an arm around your waist to pick you up again and gently toss you onto the king sized bed, making you giggle excitedly as you land with a bounce. And then he’s on top of you, eyes dark and a cocky smirk on his face as he presses his warm length against your soaked panties. See what you’ve done to me, schatje? I’m already hard again. Completely ruined me for anyone else with this perfect body. He finishes his sentence with a slow roll of his hips, making you moan breathily at the contact, with your panties so wet they’re practically stuck to you and you can feel all of him.

He unzips you out of your dress, leaving heated kisses all over your body as he admires the sight of your navy lingerie set, telling you he’d buy you ten more so you could wear them for him after every race when he fucked you. You keen at his attention, at the thought that Max wants you again and again, eyes teary as you start to try and grind your hips against him. You’ll have to be patient, schatje Max says in an amused tone, sounding much more in control than the moaning, dripping mess he’s turned you into. You teased me so much after all, it’s only fair that it’s my turn now, right? He kisses your ankles softly as he unties your strappy heels, letting them fall to the floor. And then, with a strong hand on each of your delicate ankles, he hungrily takes in the sight of your dripping pussy. Your tummy flutters almost nervously in anticipation of what’s coming.

Turns out Max, just like you, always held true to his promises. You’d had to be very patient as he had his turn of teasing you mercilessly, making you cum all over his thick fingers that stretched you out and skilled tongue that found your sensitive clit almost immediately. And when he’s finally ripping the condom packet open and slapping your core with his heavy cock, you’re practically crying.Your aching pussy finally gets what she needs when you’re stuffed impossibly full as he slides in to the hilt.

The sight of you completely ruined underneath him, tits bouncing with each powerful thrust he delivers, your nails burying into his strong arms to steady yourself, unlocks a carnal desire in Max. Whatever I want, right schatje? He hums, bending down so your sweaty foreheads touch, and you nod quickly through your deep pants. Even if I wanted to fuck you raw? You’ll let me cum inside your tight little pussy, hmm?

He knows he has you right where he wants as you squeeze down on him instinctively when you imagine him inside you with no protection. Ohmygod Maxie, yes, please, fuck your cum into me, please! The Dutchman’s outright filthy request has your head spinning with desire and you’re babbling half incoherently. Pulling out momentarily and making you whine, he yanks the condom off before sinking back into your creamy hole. You both moan in pure ecstasy at the euphoric feeling of skin to skin sex.

Max fucks you in multiple positions that night, passionately into the soft mattress, meanly up against the cold window, and roughly on the plush sofa chaise with your face buried in the cushions and your red asscheeks up in the air for him to slap. Next time I win you’ll let me fuck you here, too, okay baby? he demands as he fingers your winking back hole while still thrusting into your dripping cunny. You can only let out a high pitched whine, jiggling your hips back onto his cock in approval, too fucked out to respond with words at this point. And when he finally cums, his impressive stamina outlasting yours on his second orgasm, he makes sure to sink in deep and flood your heavenly walls with his thick white release. You give him an open mouthed lazy kiss as a silent thank you for the best fuck of your entire life, hoping he got the message.

You’re pretty certain he did, because the next morning you’re awoken by a heavy length pressed up against your ass. You’d both passed out in the (thankfully clean) spare second bed after running through the shower together for five minutes to clean up the sticky mess last night. The 4th championship celebration sex was definitely record breaking , Max murmurs into your ear playfully. But it’s not complete without the slow morning after sex. You’ll let me show you now, right schat?

_____________________________________________

A/N: WAR IS OVER THE CHILDREN ARE OUT, BIRDS SINGING CAUSE MAX IS RIGHTFULLY 4 X WDC 😭😭😭 the way all the haters were silenced. Everyone’s trying ride his dick now including skysports I love to see it, as they should

Also guys 10 followers away from 2k?!? Wtaf 😳 I’m so sorry for the delayed post, thank you for being so patient. Work has been really busy this month but going on Xmas break in a couple weeks so will have more time to post!!!! Keep sending me ur saucy asks yall I love reading them <3

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

I’ll Take Care Of You

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: sick Lando, smut

You weren't supposed to show up at the Las Vegas GP because you had your own business commitments, but knowing the state Lando was in, you decided to drop everything and come with him. You knew he needed you there and there wasn't a second of doubt in your mind whether or not to go with him when you saw how sick he really was.

After Brazil, Lando was not feeling well mentally. He couldn't sleep, he wouldn't eat or drink, his mood was at zero and all of this affected his immune system which resulted in him falling ill just before the Vegas GP.

Your heart ached seeing him like this because you knew there was nothing you could do except be there for him until he got through it. The only good thing about all of this was taking the pressure of being a world champion off his shoulders until next season at least.

Before the Vegas race, Lando could barely function, to be honest. His nose was blocked, his head was pounding, and he could barely hear in one ear.

As you closely followed the race in the garage, it no longer mattered to you which place he would take, you just prayed that he would finish the race safely and successfully so you can get him out of there.

So once the race was finally over, you were relieved, and so was he. When he got out of the car and took his helmet and balaclava off his head, he immediately looked for you with his eyes.

"Baby.." You looked at him sadly, approaching him and extending your arms towards him. "Are you alright?"

"Hey, love" His head fell onto your shoulder as he buried his face in your neck, pulling you closer to him. "I feel so sick" He sighed quietly and you immediately put your palm against his forehead to check his temperature.

"Lan, you're burning"

He was exhausted, so tired he could barely keep his eyes open and head up. He desperately needed to rest and all you wanted was to get out of there as soon as possible.

"Go get changed and we're going to the hotel, okay?" You tell him.

"No, I don't wanna go to the hotel, I wanna go home." He says.

"Lan, you can't get on a plane like this. You need to get some rest first and then we're gonna go home"

"No, please baby, I just wanna go to our home, please. I really need it. I know I'll feel better as soon as we get home." He whines. You sigh for a moment just looking at him as you ponder if this really is a smart decision. "Please" His eyes plead and you finally agree.

He was clinging to you the entire flight, holding his head in your lap and trying to sleep. He still had a fever so you improvised compresses to put over his forehead.

Lando wasn't sick often, but once in a while when he caught a cold, it would wipe him out. It was the same this time. He was bedridden for a week, and you were there every day taking care of him. He wasn't even exaggerating, he was really sick and you were worried he would get dehydrated or his condition would get worse. You even wanted to take him to the emergency room, but he promised he was fine and just needed you by his side.

Once he finally felt well enough to get out of bed and go further than the bathroom, you felt a pair of arms hug you around your waist as you prepared lunch in the kitchen.

"Hey, baby" Your eyes lit up when you saw him.

"Hey" He smiled nuzzling his head into your neck and leaving a kiss.

"Are you feeling any better?" You asked.

"Mhm. My throat is still a little sore, but I feel much better." He says in a hoarse voice.

"Well, good then." You rise on your tiptoes to leave a kiss on his cheek. "You have no idea how happy that makes me. You really got me worried."

"Thank you for taking care of me" He smiles putting your face between his hands.

"You don't need to thank me for that. I enjoy doing it."

"I know, but that's my job - to take care of you and me."

"You know how they say, 'in sickness and in health'." You both laugh considering you're not even engaged yet, let alone married even though people around you keep asking you about it all the time.

"Do I hear the wedding bells?" Lando asks.

"I don't know, do you?"

"I think I do." He smirks biting his lip before pressing his lips against yours knowing it's only a matter of time before he proposes to you.

Although he felt better physically, he still hadn't mentally recovered from the 'defeat', even though he didn't want to admit it. But it gave him away when you looked for him on his side of the bed in your sleep and couldn't find him.

You squinted at your phone to see what time it was and when it showed 2 a.m. you found it strange that he wasn't there because he usually sleeps all night.

You headed straight for the living room where you found him on the couch in front of the TV. He was lying down in his boxers, watching TV, but his gaze was thoughtful and you knew something was bothering him.

"Lan?"

"Baby, what are you doing awake?" He asks extending his arm for you to lie down next to him.

"I have the same question for you." You say taking a place next to him and leaning your head against his chest.

"Couldn't sleep, I was tossing and turning the whole time. I got up so I wouldn't wake you up."

"And why couldn't you sleep?" You ask, but he stays silent. "Baby, what's bothering you? Talk to me, please."

"You already know what it is" He sighs tracing his fingers over your shoulder. "But I don't wanna talk about it anymore. I really don't, I just need to get through it."

"Is there anything I can do about it?"

"You're here with me. That's all I need." He says placing a kiss to your forehead.

But you were determined to do something, anything, to make him feel at least a little better. And what's better than satisfying him to relieve him of frustration and tension.

Besides, it's been over two weeks since the last time you fucked. You'd be lying if you said you didn't need him in the same way and you thought tonight was the perfect opportunity for both of you so you straddled him and started kissing him gently.

He gave in to the kiss, not yet realizing what you were up to. It was only when you slowly started grinding your hips against him that he smiled into the kiss.

"What's on your mind, baby?" He asked gripping your hips.

"Just wanna make you feel better" You said moving your lips to his neck. He moaned throwing his head back and you felt him starting to get hard underneath you.

You soon positioned yourself between his legs and pulled his boxers down. He quickly got rid of them, throwing them aside, and you began to kiss him around his length.

"Wanna please you" You said between kisses.

He took his cock in his hand and tapped it against your lips. You stuck out your tongue and licked his tip making him groan in response. You teased him by slowly licking him up and down and he was starting to get impatient.

"Baby, please" He whispered stroking himself against your lips.

"Please, what, Lan?" You asked innocently, stopping his hand and cupping his balls.

"Put it in your mouth"

His breath catches as your lips finally wrap around his cock. He collects your hair into a ponytail and tilts his head to get a better look at you taking him all the way in.

You keep taking him deeper and deeper until his tip hit the back of your throat and you gag around him.

"Oh fuck.." He moans while his fingers keep raking and twirling in your hair. Your hand soon replaces your mouth as you spit on his tip and stroke him up and down. You don't want him to cum this way, you want him to cum inside you and you know he's close so you straddle him again guiding his cock to your entrance.

"Fuck, baby, fuck" His hands are pulling your night dress up to reveal your ass and grab it. He lets out a low groan as you slowly sink down on him. Leaning back, he shifts his hips up to adjust how he's sitting.

"You feel so good, so big inside of me" You whine as your rock your hips back and forth.

"Yeah?" His eyes are stuck on you as he grips your hips tighter and presses his lips against your neck.

"Stretching me out so good, Lan, shit" You make special effort to compliment him tonight as you keep on riding him quickening your pace.

He grips your ass tighter pulling you down harder on him. His breath is ragged in your ear and it makes you take him deeper and harder needing him to lose control. And you know what's coming next when you feel him twitch inside you.

"I'm cumming" He chokes out triggering your own orgasm. You clench around him as he fills you up biting his teeth into your skin.

He hugged you tightly, kissing your forehead while you lay leaning against his chest, barely catching your breath from the sweet release you both needed so desperately.

"I love you" He whispers. "I love you more than anything"

[ur-sick-and-married]

BABY FEVER

(Kate Martin x reader)

TW: Mentions of IVF.

Summary: Your girlfriend Kate has baby fever…

Author’s note: Kate is a golden retriever girlfriend and I will not be convinced otherwise.

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

Since the Las Vegas Aces season was over, you could spend so much more time with Kate, your girlfriend. After a week of alone time with her, that you spent reconnecting, you two visited her sister. Which meant you got to see her nephew.

At the end of your first full day with the little family, Kate was quiet as you two made up the bed in the guest room.

“Kate?” You said, watching her.

“Hm?” She finally looked up.

“What’s up, babe?” You asked softly.

“Nothing’s up.” She shrugged, lying. “Why?”

“You’re being all weird and quiet…” You commented.

She sat on her side of the bed, and you sat beside her.

“I want one…” She whispered, looking at her lap.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“I want a baby.” She said softly. “With you.”

You couldn’t decide whether you wanted to laugh or cry.

“Kate…” You smiled a little.

“I don’t know what’s happening.” She was genuinely surprised. “I just look at that little baby and I want one.”

“It’s only your first year in the WNBA…” You whispered.

“I know, I know,” She groaned.

“Babe…” You grinned, watching her flop back on the bed. “I think you have baby fever.”

“I do.” Kate agreed. “I’m very sick with it.”

You laid beside her, your head on her chest. You couldn’t help but find this amusing, yet endearing.

“You haven’t even popped the question…” You teased.

“Oh, please,” She scoffed. “We’re basically married.”

“You know us having a baby would be difficult, right?” You whispered.

You knew your only option if you wanted a baby that was truly, biologically yours was IVF. And you knew how scary and long the process was.

Kate nodded, silent again.

It was quiet, then she spoke very softly, “But I’d do all that. I’d do whatever. I just want a little baby…I could teach them about basketball. You could come to my games with the kid. Everyone would love you. Well, they already do, but you know what I mean.”

You felt tears in your eyes now. Having a child with Kate was your dream.

“Oh, God, don’t cry!” Kate yelped, pulling you close and holding you tightly.

“I’m not crying.” You mumbled into her chest. “You’re…so cute.”

“You’d be so cute with a little bump…” She lightly touched your stomach.

You let her wipe your eyes.

“Listen, Kate,” You whispered. “We’re gonna have a kid one day. But that’s other stuff that has to happen first. So until we have our own baby, we can just babysit all the damn time.”

She thought for a moment, then sighed, “Deal.”

“Deal? Really? That’s what you say?” You groaned.

“What else do you want me to say?” She laughed, grinning.

You laughed too.

[luveline]

hi honey!! i have a request of sad spencer comforted by bombshell reader. maybe hes the one on the brink of tears and really shes just there for him please

thanks for your request!!! fem, 1k

Spencer Reid can't stop frowning. 

“You know what I've been reading lately?” you ask him. 

“Cosmopolitan?” 

“That's just sexist.” 

Spencer points at the copy of Cosmopolitan hidden between papers and an open book where it lies on the desk in front of you, a smile interrupting his frown momentarily. “Sorry,” he says. 

“Oh, don't be sorry.” You squint at him ever so slightly as you cross one leg over the other and sink back into your borrowed seat. “That's on me. But, you know… this isn't my desk. That could be anybody's magazine.” 

He laughs politely and turns back to his work. 

“You don't wanna know what I'm actually reading?” you ask. 

He stares at his keyboard. “Mm.” 

He's not listening. That's alright. You don't really want to tell him about what you've been reading; it's just a book. 

You slide your chair closer to his and peek at the computer. He's on a page for American Airlines, flights to Las Vegas, but he hasn't clicked anything. Spencer grew up in Las Vegas, and his mom still lives there alone in a sanitorium for the mentally ill. She can get really sick at a moment's notice. You know he’s been thinking about that more lately. 

“Is everything okay, Spencer?” you ask quietly. 

You incline your head to his. He looks up, at first surprised by your attention, and then abashed. “Yeah.” 

“You don't seem yourself,” you say, putting your hand on his arm. You feel up to the crook of his elbow, waiting for him to shrug you off. He doesn't move. You stroke his skin with your thumb. “You can talk to me, you know? I hope you know that, anyways.” 

“Yeah, I know, it's…” His voice wobbles. You lean in closer. “It's nothing.” 

The first time you saw Spencer cry, he was in a hospital room being weaned off of a terrible thing, and it was sudden but expected all the same. He was suffering, recovering but in pain, and you would've cried if the roles were reversed. That was a long time ago. Seeing him upset doesn't get easier. 

“Spencer,” you murmur, “What's wrong? You look like you could burst into tears. Do you need me to get you a glass of water?” 

He shakes his head. You stay right there by his side waiting for the inevitable, the tears gathering in his eyes that he blinks away, and his painful swallowing. You have two hands —the one that isn't squeezing his arm jumps to his back to hold his stiff shoulder. 

“Do you want me to get Morgan?” you ask, unsure. 

It's a busy office, and you and Spencer sit on the outskirts closest to the offices upstairs and furthest from the hubbub. Nobody notices your closeness. You speak too quietly to be overheard. 

“Spencer,” you implore. 

He ducks his head, putting his hand to his brow. 

“I'm okay,” he says, his voice stronger now, “it's just my mom doesn't sound right in her letters lately, and I'm tired, and I wasn't expecting you to ask me.” 

“No?” you ask, giving his arm another tender rub. “Sorry if I'm upsetting you, Spencer. I was worried. You don't have to talk about it.” He winces. “But if you do want to, I'm right here.” 

He needs a hug, you decide (unsurely). You stand and he immediately lifts his head with worry in his eyes, but you're not going anywhere, the opposite. You cover up his head and shoulders as your chin rests gently atop his soft hair, a gravel to your tone as you say, “It's okay.” 

Spencer is silent. Slowly, tentatively, he wraps his arms around you in turn, and then he's squeezing you tight enough to feel it in your spine. 

“It's okay, Spencer. We can talk about it, huh? We can work something out. It wouldn't be terrible for you to take a vacation every once in a while, maybe that's what you need.”  

He breathes out against your sleeve. “Sorry,” he says. 

“It's okay.” You kiss his head. He likely doesn't feel it. “I promise, it's fine.” 

“I wasn’t expecting you to ask.” 

“I know, you said that already.” You don’t tell him with any malice, just reaffirmation. “But I’ll always ask. I care about you, I need you to be okay, Dr. Reid. You’re my pillar of strength.” He laughs with self-deprecation, but you mean it. “You are. You’re always there for me. You’re always looking after me.”

“Since when do you need looking after?” 

“That’s one of the best and worst things about you. You don’t realise what you are to people.” 

Spencer screws his hands into your blouse and grows still in your arms. You consider scolding him about wrinkles to lighten the mood, but he’ll take you too seriously, and stop hugging you, and that’s not what you want. You try to be subtle about the comfort you’re giving him as you wrap your arms behind his head to close him in, hiding him from any prying eyes, but the longer you stay holding him the more attention you recieve, until even your stoic unit chief can't pretend this is appropriate for the workplace. 

“L/N,” Hotch says in concern. “Reid. Is everything okay?” 

Spencer seizes up and tries to push you away.

You lift your chin above his head and give Hotch your stickiest smile, arms moving to a more amicable position behind his shoulders. “No, everything is not okay, Hotch. You realise I only joined the unit to be with Spencer, right? And you punish me by sitting me halfway across the office!” 

Everyone watching either laughs or rolls their eyes, used to your dramatic favouritism. Even Hotch seems tired of it. 

“I’d be sorry if I thought that were true. Can you go back to suffocating Reid on your own time? We have some consults to look over.” 

You widen the gap between you and Spencer, allowing him the space to collect himself. “If you insist,” you say, grinning brightly. 

You stand in front of Spencer, heart aching as he sniffs quietly. He stands, and for a moment you think he won’t be alright after all, that your comfort was useless and he’ll need to excuse himself, but he draws a ghost of a line into your side with his knuckle and squares his expression. “Let’s get back to work,” he says to you with a small smile. You’ll talk more later. 

“Wanna hold hands?” you ask. 

“Maybe when everyone’s stopped looking at me?” he says under his breath, starting toward the steps to the conference room. 

“Wait, really?”

He hurries up the stairs. You follow.

[starkwlkr]

just a girl | f1

an: this is me asking for your letterboxd pls i need letterboxd mutuals 🤭 my account is deadpunks also made the reader have glasses because we need more glasses representation in fanfics 😔 (to the girlies that wear glasses, this is for you!!!)

Las Vegas Grand Prix Weekend

“What movie did I watch?” Y/n read the comment that a fan left on her instagram live. She adjusted her glasses and smiled. “I just finished ‘Drop Dead Gorgeous’ it’s so underrated. The cast is so iconic like you have Kirsten Dunst, Brittany Murphy, Denise Richards, Amy Adams and Allison Janney in one movie. It’s definitely in my top four.”

It was hours after qualifying and Y/n was exhausted, but all she wanted to do was finish watching her movie. Unfortunately for her, the movie she had just named wasn’t anywhere on streaming so she brought her portable dvd player and a stack of dvds. When Lando saw her watching a movie and crocheting a scarf for herself in her garage, he laughed at the scene. He actually found it adorable.

“What’s my letterboxd? Okay, listen. . . I don’t give it out to just anyone so this is between you lovely people and me, okay? My letterboxd is ilovecillianmurphy420 and please follow me, I am desperate,” Y/n laughed. She then took her phone and saw all the new follower notifications from letterboxd. “I’m going to ask the social media admin to ask everyone on the grid for their four favorites. Lando is definitely going to name animated movies. That or he’ll forget what a movie is and say nothing.”

What’s your four favorites?

“Whoever your asked for my four favorites, I’m blocking you. How dare you ask me that question . . . Paddington 1 and 2, Saw and Mamma Mia. I know I said drop dead gorgeous was in my top four, but I lie all the time.”

The next day, her letterboxd account had become the second most followed account.

INSTAGRAM

liked by oscarpiastri, letterboxd and others

yourusername just watched the masterpiece that is jackass number two

formulaupdating can i ask why you don’t post about f1 that often?

yourusername no you may not

oscarpiastri i was there too

yourusername ok

landonorris didn’t you watch that last week?

yourusername this is my own private domicile and i will not be harassed

landonorris ?

yourusername bitch

Load more comments

After The Race / Interviews

Y/n hated being interviewed, it was the absolute worst thing on earth. No wait, forgetting her AirPods was the worst thing, but interviews were right behind that. She was exhausted and now she had to deal with reporters asking her what she thought about the championship battle.

Her fingers brushed the strap of her cap nervously as the interviewer’s voice cut through her anxiety.

“Y/n, P7 today—solid result. How are you feeling?" The reporter asked.

Y/n blinked, her eyes flicking around as she tried to process the question, and then her gaze landed on her own shoes. She cleared her throat awkwardly, looking up only to meet the camera for a brief, uncomfortable moment.

“Uh, yeah. It, uh . . . it was. . . good. I mean . . . yeah, I’m happy with it, I guess," she mumbled, her voice faltering.

The reporter smiled kindly, already used to the shy responses. “What do you think made the difference here in Vegas?" He waited patiently for Y/n’s answer.

Y/n’s lips parted as she prepared an answer, but the words tangled up in her brain. She shifted from foot to foot, adjusting her grip on the cap. Fuck, why can’t you think of anything?!, she thought to herself. “Uh . . . I don’t know . . . it’s just . . . uh, a little . . . weird, with all the lights and, you know, the . . . Strip, and, um . . .” Her voice trailed off.

The interviewer gave her a soft chuckle, understanding that Y/n’s awkwardness wasn’t lack of confidence, but rather a product of her introverted nature. Before the interview could go on, two figures appeared behind Y/n.

Oscar had cut in, Y/n’s pair of glasses in his hand. He placed a hand on her shoulder and handed the glasses to her while Lando ruffled her hair. She happily accepted them and placed them on her face.

“Alright, alright,” he said with a grin, his voice gentle but firm. “You’ve tortured her enough, mate.”

Y/n let out a relieved sigh as she turned to Oscar, who gave her a small, reassuring smile. “You’re doing great, really,” he said quietly, his tone meant to ease her nerves.

Lando then spoke up. “Are we done with the interrogation? She's literally about to disappear into her own head if we keep this up."

The reporter chuckled. “I was just asking Y/n about her performance today.”

Y/n hadn’t even noticed that she had completely abandoned the interview. She had started doodling on Oscar’s hand. The Aussie had given her the pen he had used from a fan when he was signing autographs. It was their thing. Whenever she would get nervous and Oscar was around, he would let her draw on his hand. Somehow the hand doodles calmed her.

“Right, Y/n?”

That’s when she picked up her head and noticed Lando was staring at her. “Sorry, what?”

“The race,” Lando reminded her. “She was brilliant out there. Absolutely nailed it.” Y/n didn’t have the words to argue. Instead, she ducked her head, feeling both embarrassed and grateful.

The three drivers said their goodbye to the reporter and walked away. Lando threw an arm over Y/n’s shoulder, grinning. “You know, for someone who hates interviews, you’ve got a hell of a lot to say . . . just not when it’s on camera.”

Y/n’s lips twitched into a small smile, and she felt a brief wave of gratitude for her friends’ protective camaraderie. She glanced at Oscar, who gave her a knowing nod, his usual quiet confidence offering her a sense of calm.

“You guys are unbelievable.” Y/n laughed lightly.

“Yeah well you’re the idiot who’s going to have to deal with us.” Lando replied.

“Unfortunately.” She teased.

“The idiot with the crocheting skills and silly little film reviews that are very popular on the box app.” Lando added.

“What?” Y/n stopped walking and stared at Lando. She looked over at Oscar for an answer, but the Aussie just shrugged his shoulders.

“I do believe our dear Y/n wants a hot priest?” Lando teased, bringing up Y/n’s lastest letterboxd review about Fleabag. “That’s a bit scandalous, don’t you think?”

“Hot priest?” Oscar couldn’t believe Lando had just said those two words together.

“You two don’t get it! Come on, we’re watching Fleabag!”

[op-81-lvr]

Home ~ MV33

Max Verstappen x Male!Military!reader

Summary: Max had been attending races with his daughter alone, people begin to wonder what happened to his husband. Until you show up to Vegas that is.

A/N: Me taking less than a week to write a fic? Crazy right?

A/N2: This was started before this mornings announcement, i’m still deciding whether or not to keep writing for Max.

Tagging: One mention of feeling sick, deployment (nothing graphic), Author keeps getting military reunion videos of their FYP, Toddler tantrum, This is real short and real low quality, Reader is implied to be an American citizen, media harrassment

June 2023

Max felt sick as soon as he seen the letter come through the post in the morning. That stupid emblem that you devoted your life to every time you left.

He considered putting it back in its place, pretending he hadn’t checked the post. He didn’t want to be the one to give you the potentially awful news that could be in that envelope. But he couldn’t do that, not when he knew it was there.

So, he ventured up to the nursery where you were sat in the rocking chair in the corner of the room bottle-feeding your 8 month old. You looked so happy, Max almost didn’t want to tell you. However he had to.

“(Y/N)” He said, catching your attention and holding the letter up. You went from smiling down at your giggling baby to your face dropping instantly. You wished you never had looked up.

“Oh- Swap with me” You said, handing Max Vanessa and then slipping the letter from his hand. You began opening the letter, eyes skimming the words until you said you had to go make a phone call and left the room.

~

You tried to call anyone you could, Commanding officers, people of your rank, people much higher up but there was no way out of it, you were still in reserve and they needed you.

If wasn’t as if Max hadn’t expected it. He had uprooted his entire life to move to the country you served just so you didn’t have to leave all the time. You both knew this could happen before you got married.

Thats how you ended up at the airport 2 weeks later in your uniform, a fresh haircut and face shave done, with your bags with you. Random on lookers glaring at you with pity on their faces.

“I’m gonna miss you, little one” You said, holding the baby up and kissing her head gently. “You’re gonna be so big when I get back” You whispered gently against her skin.

“And I think I might miss you too” You said, kissing your husband and handing the baby back. “I love you both so much, I wish you luck on every race i’m gonna miss” You said before picking up your stuff and walking away before you sobbed in front of a packed airport.

Max and Vanessa were papped leaving the airport, nobody knew about you at this time. Just the baby. So it left people wondering why Max Verstappen was leaving the airport crying with no bags.

~

23rd November 2024 - Las Vegas

“Ness, please just put the sock on” Max pleaded, crouching on the floor by his hotel bed with a sock held in his hand. He was currently wrestling with your 2 year old to get her dressed for the Vegas GP. It was highly likely she would sleep through it but Max still had to get her dressed.

“No!” The little girl whined, kicking her feet trying to push Max away.

“Okay” Max sighed “What about these tights?” Max asked, holding up the pair of tights from his suitcase that would go with her dress instead.

“Yeah” Vanessa said sadly, wiping the meaningless tears she had said. God Max loved his toddler but man was she stressful work.

“Okay, tights it is” He said sighing as he pulled the pink and white polka dot tights up her legs.

Max had pulled her pretty blonde ringlets into a bow at the back of her head and they were ready to go.

~

Max had managed to get Vanessa into her car seat without anymore tears than necessary. She was sat in her car seat with her giraffe stuffie that you had sent over.

“You excited to see papa win hm?” He said, looking in his mirror as he looked at his daughter in the backseat of his car.

“Yayyy papa win” the little girl said, throwing both her arms and her stuffed giraffe into the air in excitement.

The car got a little silent after that, she was dozing off for a mid-day nap to keep her going until a but later. Then you called, great, now Ness wouldn’t nap. As much as he loved you, you had awful timing when calling him. He answered using the button on the steering wheel.

“Hey, Liefje, I’m in the car with Ness. We’re on the way to the track.” Max answered, a somewhat monotone voice. He wouldn’t give an emotion until you expressed the nature of your call. Not after answering a bit too enthusiastically one too many times.

“Hi Darling, Hi Ness!” You said happily down the phone. Good, happy call. It also sounded quiet where you were, that usually meant downtime. Wherever you were.

“Hi daddy!” A now very excitable Vanessa screeched from the back seat.

“Hi baby, I was just calling to wish papa luck for his big race. So good luck, Max. I’ll try and speak to you a bit later okay? I just want to make sure I caught you before you got busy.” You said Lazily, you sounded relaxed. More relaxed than you had sounded on the phone is ages.

“Okay, (Y/N). I’ll call you later. Vanessa say bye bye to Dad” Max said, looking in the mirror to see if he still had her attention.

“Bye Daddy” She said blowing kisses to the phone even though you couldn’t see. She didn’t really get the difference between a Facetime and a call.

“Bye Ness, Bye Max” You said before promptly hanging up the phone.

~

F1PaddockUpdts

❤️ 💬 📟 🔖

F1PaddockUpdts Max Verstappen arrives at the paddock with his daughter. Still no partner.

user1 Are we STILL on this, Max himself has come out and said he and his partner are totally fine. They’re just busy.

user2 yeah but busy every weekend for almost 2 years is absolutely wild, I mean come on 🙄

user3 Max is better than me bc if my partner refused to attend one race in TWO seasons I would be saying something

user4 Y’all lack any sense of privacy. Its wild

~

Max came back to Red Bull to get his stuff and his daughter. He slid into his drivers room. He was sweaty, tired and wanted a nap but he needed to get Vanessa first. What Max didn’t know is that you followed him and he hadn’t noticed.

Max bent down to pick a very excitable daughter up and give her attention.

“Daddy back!” Vanessa exclaims excitedly as she wiggles in Max’s grasp, patting his shoulder excitedly.

“Yeah, i’m back. I won the championship” Max said, still not turning around to look over his shoulder. Assuming his daughter was talking to him.

“Noooo, you’re papa, not daddy” Venessa said with a cheeky grin on her face. She was pointing behind Max and he still thought nothing of it.

“Ness, I don’t understan-“ Max began before he was rudely interrupted by his daughter

“Papa, down” Vanessa demanded, wriggling her little legs as Max put her down in-front of him. She instantly ran into the space behind Max and his eyes followed. Then he seen what she meant.

You. Sat on the floor squeezing your baby tightly. Your bags at your side and a RedBull social media admin filming the whole thing. You hadn’t even changed properly, Camo trousers and a plain white t-shirt with your dog tags sat on your neck.

“See Papa, Daddy!” Vanessa half-yelled, muffled by your shoulder as you held her tight.

“Daddy” Max repeated just looking at you, it had been 16 months since he last seen you. Except the odd FaceTime on the odd occasions you had schedules that over lapped. “When did you get here?” He asked.

“I watched the race, now come here” You said from your position on the floor, beckoning max down to you. He did as he was told as you scooped him up in your other arm. “I am so proud of you, Baby. 4 championships, 4” You stated again. Kissing his hairline gently.

“Eww, kissing” Vanessa piped up.

“Ohh, is that how it is huh? No more bedtime kisses for you then” You said, lifting her up and moving her so she was sat between you and Max.

The RedBull admin had left, having got they footage they wanted and took the hint to leave.

“Noooo, I get kisses because i’m still little” She said, looking up at you “You don’t need kisses ‘cause you’re too big”

“I don’t think thats how it works Ness. You don’t get too big for kisses” You said as she still clung to you for dear life. You were surprised she even wanted to approach you since you hadn’t been with her since she was about 8 months old but apparently Max had made it a point to make sure she still knew who you were.

“And anyway I have been away for so long, I think I deserve to give my family kisses, dontcha think?” You said, attacking Vanessa with kisses and she started giggling loudly.

“Great, you come back and wind her up and now she won’t sleep tonight” Max half whined.

“Oh as if you had plans on sleeping tonight” You teased, rolling your eyes and kissing your husband properly this time

~

redbullracing uploaded a Reel

Caption: I always cry at reunions 🥹

user5 “See Papa, Daddy!” SOBBING, SCREAMING, HYSTERICAL.

user6 MILITARY-WIFE MAX VERSTAPPEN?!

user7 Y’all are fuh-reaks, this is so cute and THIS is your first thought?

user8 You weirdos owe Max an apology now we know where his partner was

maxverstappen1 Best surprise ever tbh

yourusername You’re welcome 🥳

[jgracie]

sports car ♡ f1!percy jackson x fem!reader

in which you get tired of percy’s neglect, so you go to the one person you know would be able to help

warnings jealousy (on percy’s behalf), swearing, argument (good ending tho i promise) | masterlist

'Percy has been ignoring me for far too long,' was a thought you never thought you'd have.

Anyone who knew Percy knew he was obsessed with you and therefore couldn't go more than a couple minutes without needing to be around you. However, the New York City race weekend seemed to prove otherwise.

NYC was a new addition to the F1 calendar, and ever since it was announced, you knew how important it'd be for Percy. Sure, all the other US races counted as home races for him before, but New York was his real home, not Las Vegas or Texas. He finally had a proper home race and he had to be the first to win it.

If it was just the importance New York held for Percy, the two of you would've been fine. In fact, you would've been more than fine - during every significant race weekend for Percy, he always happened to be more doting than usual, desperately needing to be reassured that everything would be fine by the one person he trusts to tell nothing but the truth no matter what. That's why you were confused. Had you done something to upset him and drive him away? Is that why he'd rather go to his SF-25 for comfort instead of you?

It was much more than that. Percy wasn't the only New Yorker on the grid this year, the other being his teammate, Luke Castellan. Luke was the first F1 driver you'd been introduced to and the first to find out about your and Percy's relationship back when it still consisted of whispered confessions and late-night kisses. He was nice enough and very funny and you quickly became good friends. Not close friends, but good friends. Although Percy was happy you managed to find a place for yourself in his world at first, he soon began to dislike your friendship with Luke.

This wasn’t your fault, of course, but Luke’s.

What you didn’t know was that there had been tension festering between the two Ferrari drivers ever since Percy joined the team. Luke was Ferrari’s golden boy, having been taken by them as soon as he left F2 thanks to the terrific season he’d had there, and for a good while, he dominated. That was until Percy arrived. In his first year at Ferrari, Percy managed to beat Luke by several points, placing third overall compared to Luke’s fifth. The golden boy had begun to rust, and so the competition between the two grew.

After Percy took everything from Luke, he wanted him to lose everything too, and that included Percy’s most prized possession: you.

“Hey Luke, can I talk to you please?” You asked, walking into his garage. Quali had finished and so everyone was busy packing up and preparing for the big day tomorrow. Well, except Luke, who was on his phone.

Looking up at you, the driver smiled and shook his head, standing up to pull out an empty seat for you, “of course, what’s up?” He said as he took you in.

You were easily the most beautiful person at the paddock today, with your little red top and the Yankees cap Percy had bought you the first time he took you to watch a baseball game. To Luke, you would’ve looked even more beautiful with your arm wrapped around his.

"Well, I feel like Percy's been... off," was how your rant began. As you explained the situation, Luke couldn't help but feel as though Aphrodite was on his side. He was sad for you, of course, but this was the perfect moment for him to take the one thing Percy loved most. If he won the race tomorrow, surely you'd be his.

Unfortunately, Aphrodite was not on Luke's side. As soon as he put his hand on top of yours in a comforting gesture (that weirded you out a little), Percy appeared, looking for you. Finding you with Luke, who so clearly had his 'Prince Charming' act on, Percy couldn't help but see red. He was already dealing with so much crap from Luke, but him going after you was too far.

Swiftly, Percy strode over and grabbed you by the arm, nearly hauling you off your chair in the process, "let's go babe, I think you left your bag in my garage," he mumbled, kissing the top of your head. You looked up at your boyfriend, expecting his usually loving gaze to finally be cast upon you. Instead, you found him glaring at Luke. And... Luke seemed to be glaring back? You were confused.

"Oh, okay. Thanks for telling me," you said, standing up. Instantly, Luke was up too.

"Hey man, we weren't done yet." He said to Percy, who now had his arm wrapped around your waist. Although you weren't sure what was going on and were now a little mad at him, you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it. You really missed his touch.

"I'm sure it can wait," was all Percy said before manoeuvring you away, not even giving you the chance to say goodbye.

The walk to his garage was silent, but as soon as you got there, Percy started ranting at you as he sloppily gathered both your things. You watched for a second before realising you were done with his bullshit. This was going to end whether he liked it or not.

"Percy," you said, calmly approaching him. Although you were mad, you didn't want things to escalate. You just wanted your Percy back. Said Percy ignored you. You tried again, and he ignored you again.

Oh well, third time's the charm.

Putting your hand on his shoulder, you said, "Percy, can you please listen to me?" Almost instantly, he turned around and had you pinned on his car, tightly gripping your shoulders.

"What? What do you want from me? Seems like everybody wants something from me these days, so let's add you to the list as well! Or would you prefer to go ask Luke instead?"

Percy knew he made a mistake as soon as his eyes landed on yours, a watery barrier keeping them from properly meeting his. He sighed and let go of you, running his hands through his hair.

Your voice now shaky, you said, "I just wanted to see if you're okay. You've been ignoring me ever since we landed in JFK, and it hurts, Percy. I want to be here for you, but you're not letting me. I went to Luke to ask if you were okay, since you refused to tell me, but now I see what the problem is. You don't trust me, do you? You don't trust me to know what's wrong, you don't trust me to be around your own teammate, you don't trust me at all, Percy. Relationships need trust. If you don't trust me, I don't see the point in us staying together at all."

Percy's brows furrowed. He hadn't expected you to come to that of all conclusions. Just as you were about to take your things and leave, he had you pinned to the car yet again.

"I trust you. I don't trust him," he began. Your lips parted in shock. How couldn't Percy trust Luke? Luke had been his idol for as long as you could remember. He was more excited to be teammates with the Luke Castellan than he was to drive for Ferrari back when the deal was first signed.

"God, I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to hurt you. There's been so much pressure on my back to do well in this race not just because my home race, but because its his, too. Luke has been out to get me since this season started, I just know it. If he wins this, he'll have enough points to bump me down to second place in the championship, and then God knows what'll happen to my seat. I've been working so hard to make sure everything's perfect for this one, and seeing you with him of all people drove me crazy. He's been trying to take everything from me, he can't take you too."

Tears were now rolling down your cheeks, and you cupped Percy's face, pulling him to share a heartfelt kiss.

"No one," you said as you pulled away, "could ever take me from you, Percy. I don't ever want you thinking that again, promise?" You stuck your pinkie out for Percy to link his to, which he did.

Smiling, he whispered, "I promise. Now let's go home, I have a lot of girlfriend neglect I'd like to make up for." At this, you laughed, glad to have your Percy back again. Putting your jacket on, you rubbed your back where it had been on the car. Those things had way too many hard parts.

"You have got to stop slamming me on that car of yours though, Perce, my back can't handle it," you mumbled as you zipped the jacket up. New York winters were no joke.

"Oh yeah?" He said, smirking. Your noses nearly touching, Percy's eyes glimpsed the necklace you were wearing - the one with his initials on it. "Don't you worry, I have better ideas for what we can do in that car of mine."

[c0eu4]

Part 2 of the tits fic?

LN4 | Tits ♡

Summary: Y/n and Lando goes out for his birthday and they finish in their hotel room more quickly than expected.

Warning: smut, oral (m receiving), swearing, unprotected sex, dom+sub!lando, dom+sub!reader

A/N: yep. This is 1.3K word of smut. Hope y'all will like it <3

part one - part two - part three

MASTERLIST requests are open

She feels a sensation of deja vu when Lando lean against the counter, asking to the bartender for another drink. She lets her fingerstip running throughout his hairs on his arm as he smiles lovely at her.

''Have I ever told you that you're super pretty?'' She chuckles and kiss him tenderly. ''All the time since this afternoon.''

To celebrate Lando's birthday, Carlos threw a party at one of the many clubs in Las Vegas. And Y/n accompanied Lando as his new girlfriend.

Lando's hand slid on her waist, keeping her close to him as he takes his drink. He took a sip of it but almost spit it out, ''Can you sign my tits?'' She asked him, laughing softly at his face. ''I would love to.'' He asked to the bartender for a pen and he gives one to him. Lando doesn't even ask this time and he puts his hand on her left breast, stretching the skin to allow the pen to work better. He signs it, writing 'for Y/n, with love' and he does the same on the other one.

He gives the pen back to the bartender and takes his drink again. ''Hope you still have energy to dance?'' She dragged him to the dancefloor, his hands never leaving her hips. He forgets his drink in a corner, too busy dancing against his beloved.

He can feel her small body moving against him, her ass pressing against his now little bulge. She keeps moving like that, feeling all Lando's body against hers. His forehead fall against her shoulder in a deep moan. They were literally teasing each other in front of everyone.

''Fuck Y/n, don't you want to go back at the hotel?'' She doesn't even answer, already taking his hand and getting out of the club.

They run they way back to the hotel, walking quickly in the cold streets of Las Vegas. Lando carries her like a princess, already imagining all the position he will do with her.

When they entered the elevator, Lando doesn't wait any more and let her get back on her foots before pinning her against the wall, his hips slamming against hers. ''Feel how much you make me feel.'' He rubs himself against her, his tights pant hurting his hard member.

They urge to their hotel room, him already taking off the button on his shirt. This time, it's her who pin him against the wall. She grabs his cock over his pants, kneading him hard. He lets his head fall down in a long and deep moan. He take off his shirt and she gets on her knees.

Lando's eyes were full of lust. He imagined this hundreds of times. And finally, the day comes. She takes off his pants and his boxer simultaneously, already jerking his hard cock. She bites her lower lips, wanting nothing more than take him in her mouth.

''Ah..Please..'' Lando beg her, too needy. She licks his length and kisses his tips, using her thongs to make circles around it. Lando pass his hand in her hair, pulling it into a ponytail. He guided her head to his cock, feeling her tight mouth around him.

Lando has always been very loud in bed. He never holds back his moans and always says whatever comes to mind. She suck him, using her hands to play with his balls and jerking where she can't suck. Lando's breath became quicker as he feels the knot in his lower abdomen untied.

''Wait wait wait.'' He pulls her away, his cock glistering from her mouth. ''Use your breasts.'' She smile naughtily, taking off her dress and underwear. She gets back on her knees and squeezes her breasts. She lets his cock slide between her tits, moving up and down. ''Ahhh!! Fuck!! Y/n!!'' It was even better than all the times he imagined her breasts instead of his hand.

''Oh fuck!! Carlos would be so jealous...'' He moaned loudly, keeping back his orgasm. Seeing her tits move up and down against his cock and what's more, seeing his own signature on them makes him want to cum even more. She quicker her movement and spit on his tips. And it was enough to make Lando cum between her breasts, spilling all of his hot seed onto her collarbone and breasts. She uses her fingers to collect his cum and eats it sensually.

''On all fours, now.'' He said strict yet sweet. She obeyed him, feeling him behind her. He let his fingers passing throughout her wet folds, feeling her wetness. ''So wet and only for me, mh?'' He squeezed her ass cheek, rubbing his dick head against her tight entrance. ''Please..'' She whines, her liquid already falling down her pussy. ''You're going to have to beg a little more.'' He entered his pink mushrooms inside her but take it off immediately. ''Lando! Please! I need you so much! Please, please, please, please, plea-'' She moaned loudly when he brutally push his length into her, her wall squeezing him so much.

He grips on her shoulder and hips, starting with a slow pace. ''You like it, mh? Being my dirty little whore?'' He increase the pace, taking it almost out and back in, roughly. He keeps a slow but hard pace, making her eyes watered, her moans muffled by the pillow.

''Lando!'' He gets quicker, feeling her wall clenching around him. His hips slaps hardly against her ass in a dirty we song. He suddenly take it out, a moan of frustration escaping her lips. He made her turn onto her back, grabs her hands and put it above her head. He push back into her, pounding in her merciless. The headboard hit the wall hardly, in rhythm with his hips thrusts.

She cums loudly around his cock, drowning him with her sweet nectar. But it doesn't stop Lando. He takes out again, carry her as she find the strength to wrap her legs around him. He pins her against the wall, already pouding into her again.

He slams his hips against hers, his balls slamming roughly against her. He can't stop moaning, mixed with her moan, it made a symphony. He only want one thing. Everyone to ear that he own her.

''Who makes you feels that good?'' He slowly gets tired but want her to cum one last time. ''Y-you Lando!'' He keeps pouding into her, her climax already here. She drowning him a second time and he allow himself to empty his arching balls in her.

He drops her again on the mattress, laying next to her. He takes her in his arms, passing his hands in her sweaty hair.

''You wanna take a bath?'' He kisses her cheek, really tenderly. She yawns and cuddle her nuzzle against his neck. ''Just want to stay in your arms.'' She said with a sleepy voice. ''Sweetie, you need to go to pee. I don't want you to have an infection because of me.'' She groans and sit down on the bed.

As she tries to walk but failed, Lando gets up and helped her to go to the bathroom. He filled the bathtub with hot water as she quickly pee, removing a bit of Lando's cum from inside her.

He makes her sit in the bathtub, himself sitting behind her. She leans against his chest, her eyes heavy from all the orgasm she just had. He stroke her waist, looking at all the bruises and red marks he makes on her body.

When the water start to be lukewarm then cold, they get out and change into something more comfortable. While Y/n brush her teeth and try to arrange her hair, Lando change the sheet of the bed, really not wanting to sleep on something full of cum.

He goes back to see her and carry her like a princess. He pulls the blanket over their chin, wrapping his arms around her waist.

''Have a good night, my love.'' She only answer with a sleepy 'mh', pulling all the blanket to her. Lando understand that she wish him a good night too. And he let her takes all the blanket. If it makes her more comfortable.

[jamminvroomvroom]

777.

ln x fem!reader

in which lando has a wild week in vegas

on a bit of a roll whoops! had to write something slutty for vegas week/lando’s birthday so here it is! enjoy my loves and please please pleeeeease tell me what you think! 🎲💘 have literally been thinking about this since vegas was announced and i couldn’t stop listening to silk sonic lol

posting this with the @lavenderlando seal of approval 🫡🤍

inspired loosely by 777 by silk sonic

warnings: 18+ minors dni i am so serious!! listen it’s smut. it’s a lot lot lot of smut. alcohol, swearing, fuckboy!lando, one night stand vibes, choking, unprotected sex, general sex acts, some kinky shit, fluff, minor angst bc lando is a moody little shit

5k words

lando had gotten used to the taste of champagne.

the golden bubbles had grown on him over the course of the season, they tasted like success. so, he didn’t protest when several magnums showed up at the round table, some ridiculous happy birthday remix being blasted over the casino speakers.

it was the night of his 24th birthday, and the drinks hadn’t stopped flowing. he was surrounded by his friends, max and ash joining him, as well as the drivers that had arrived in vegas. the crisp white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows by now, midnight fast approaching, the material half unbuttoned.

they’d started the night in a bar, drowning in a river of alcohol, and now they were in a casino, one of many on the strip. it was all a bit predictable, kitschy decor everywhere he looked since he’d arrived in las vegas, but that’s what made it iconic. the tackiness seemed to mesh well with the old money vibe, and lando knew this would be a birthday to remember. 


everything was mahogany, gold or red. nothing didn’t twinkle in the lights. his suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, curls messy already from the light breeze of november in the desert. his cheeks were champagne rosy, the alcohol going straight to his head and he felt so fucking good.

everyone toasted to the birthday boy, slot machines rattling in the background. lando didn’t usually enjoy this sort of environment, but he was too drunk to care, deciding to embrace the insanity of his life and live on the edge for one night.

he found himself hunched over a gaming table, fingers drumming against the green felt. his eyes scanned the embroidery, taking in the game that was being played. blackjack, he assumed. this really wasn’t his type of place.

by then, as if by some sort of divine intervention, it was.

a flash of red. a swish of hair. manicured nails on a martini glass.

suddenly blackjack seemed like the best fucking game in the world.

lando couldn’t look away from you.

you were stood right opposite him, drink in hand, red satin draping over every curve of your frame. the dress seemed to cover everything, and nothing at all, perfect for the environment you were in. it was daring, enticing, and lando sure liked being enticed.

from the very second he laid eyes on you, he was picturing what you’d look like against a clean, white bedspread, how his name would sound rolling off your tongue in the form of a desperate whimper. it was a crude thought, but he’d become a crude man.

things had changed a lot since his last breakup. he was messy, leaving a trail of clothes and kisses across every country he stepped foot in. he didn’t get off on the number of people he’d slept with, he got off on the rush of someone new, and he knew before he’d even touched down in vegas, a week earlier than he needed to, that this would probably be the messiest week of his life.

but then he saw you, and it felt weird. he didn’t just want to learn your name and bend you over the nearest surface, gone from your bed before the sun was even in the sky. he was addicted at first sight; he had to take you home, at the very least.

his fixation on you was broken by the dealers voice; it seemed like you were up to play next and you needed at least another player. lando’s eyes flitted back to you, wondering if he even knew how to play blackjack before he offered himself up to you on a glaring shiny platter. you took the decision away from him, because this time, you were staring right back at him.

internally, he was choking on air. externally, he was mentally undressing you with a filthy smirk on his face.

“wanna play, birthday boy?” you smiled coyly, an eyebrow quirked seductively. he could have fallen right to his knees at just the sound of your voice. sweet and spicy.

lando realised that you’d seen the embarrassing display the boys had put on for him. maybe you even knew who he was. he definitely wanted to know who you were, and that’s why he decided to give in to your electric stare.

“you’re on.”

he lost.

every. single. game.

numbers were never lando’s thing.

it was hard to care, though, when he had you sprawled out on the desk of his hotel room, his lips all over your neck.

the walk from the casino up to his room had been short, a bottle of champagne in his left hand and the curve of your ass in his right. there’d been very little small talk, very little convincing needed to seduce you, not with the way you’d been eye-fucking from opposite sides of the table, cards laid bare before you both.

he’d kissed you in the elevator, sloppy and desperate, pressed you against the door to his suite, and quickly pinned you to the other side of it once you were finally inside. you tasted like fruit liquor and cigarettes, your dress slowly bunching at your hips as his hands roamed the silky material. lando was restless, craving everything you had to offer, so he picked you up effortlessly, spreading his palms across the back of your thighs.

it had been a short walk to the desk from the door, and he placed you down carefully. lando slid the dress up your thighs, his finger grazing your calf as he did. you were arching into him, pushing his jacket off his frame and frantically tugging at the buttons of his dress shirt until it was hanging undone off his shoulders.

the look in your eyes sent his blood rushing, frenzied and desperate for him as much as he was for you. taking your jaw in his hand, he tilted your chin towards him until you were looking up at him through your lashes. lando tucked your hair behind your ear, continuing to graze down your neck until he reached the flimsy strap of your dress.

“are you gonna let me have you?” his grip on your jaw tightened and he studied your face.

he gulped when your lips twisted into a smile, conniving, dangerous, red lipstick smudged deliciously. you hadn’t caved into his touch, fallen into submission, and suddenly lando was swimming way out of his depth.

it seemed he’d finally met his match.

you pushed him away, giggling as he stumbled backwards towards the bed, and stood from your place on the desk. slowly, you made your way towards him, until you’d backed him up all the way to the foot of the bed, at which point he collapsed. he scrambled up onto his elbows, smirking up at you.

your eyes raked over his frame, swollen lip caught between your teeth. he looked disheveled in the best way, shirt framing lean sun kissed skin.

slowly, you unzipped your dress, letting it fall off your frame. the material pooled at your feet and you stepped out of it carefully, kicking it away. lando had moved up the bed so that he was sitting against the headboard, watching you hungrily. you were left bare, aside from a lacy thong and red stilettos. lando could have cried tears of joy.

happy fucking birthday.

lando’s eyes lit up like 777 had spun onto a slot machine. he may have lost at blackjack but he’d definitely hit the jackpot.

you crawled onto the bed towards him, not stopping until you were sat on his lap. his hands scaled your thighs, stroking up and down the soft skin. you rolled your hips, experimenting, toying with him, and he groaned, low and loud.

“does this answer your your question?” you whispered, leaning into him so that you could loop your arms around his neck.

lando kissed you, slow and sloppy, sitting up even further just to feel you closer. he could feel your nipples brushing against his bare chest, low whines breaking through the kiss your shared every time you felt too sensitive. your bodies were rolling together in unison, friction building nicely between your legs.

he was growing impatient, itching to get rid of the remaining barriers between you. lando held you still, tight, flipping you both over so that he was hovering over you. his lips worked your neck, hickeys littered down your neck and over your collarbone, while his hands moved down your body. he toyed with the band of your thong, snapping the material against your waist.

lando left you there, keening for his touch, while he peeled his shirt off. his trousers went next, along with his boxers, and then he was right back where he’d left off. your panties disappeared in a flash, his kisses punctuated by a splotchy purple mark sucked below your left breast.

and then he was buried between your legs, licking stripes into you like he was starving. he moaned into your pussy when he felt the first pull on his hair, spurring him on. he applied more pressure, taking it slow, revelling in the way you tugged harder and harder with every swipe. lando slid two fingers through your folds, coating them in your slick.

when he slid the digits inside of you, his mouth latched onto your clit, flicking against it relentlessly. he found the perfect rhythm, balance, everything he was doing made you see stars behind your eyelids. you were thrashing, helpless, and he was getting off on it.

you jaw went slack when you raised yourself onto your elbows just to find him grinding against the mattress, groaning into your cunt at the sensation, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. you couldn’t even hold yourself up then, dropping into the mattress as you fell apart beneath him.

lando resurfaced a few moments later, a glint in his eyes, his mouth glistening in the dim light. your vision was hazy, body shattered, but you ached for more of him. the feeling only intensified, your legs tightening around his waist, when he raised his coated fingers to his lips, lapping up every last drop of you. his tongue swirled around his digits lewdly, and you shuddered.

lando didn’t mind at all when you pushed him onto his back, clambering on top of him. you looked wild, animalistic even, as you guided the tip of his cock through your folds, and he folded his arms behind his head to enjoy the view. once you’d slicked him up, not that he really needed it, you sunk down on him.

fingerprints stained your hips; his grip on you increased tenfold as you adjusted around him, your walls throbbing around his swollen cock. lando sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, holding you down on him. your movements were stuttering, trying to hold yourself together and ignore the way he fit inside you so damn perfectly. you tested the waters, rolling your hips a few times, and his eyes rolled back in his skull.

you felt heavenly, like velvet and butterflies.

he lost all sense of control, every fibre keeping him from wrecking you. his grip didn’t loosen when he fucked up into you, bending his knees for any extra leverage he could get. your nails scraped down his chest, his abs, dripping at the way he tensed under your touch. you tried your best to keep up with him, to meet his thrusts, holding your own for longer than you thought you would.

and then you were folding, melting into his chest, one of his hands pulling both of your behind your back, holding you down as he fucked you into your orgasm. your whines were panted right into his ear, sending him hurtling towards his own high.

lando couldn’t help himself, spilling into you, your body pressed helplessly into his. you were exhausted, wrecked, grinning lazily against the thrumming of his heartbeat.

with your hands held behind your back, you couldn’t stop him from planting you on your back, snaking down your body, burying his tongue deep inside you. the room was filled with the sound of sex, his tongue dragging over you like you were the last meal on earth and he was ravenous. he cleaned up the mess he’d made quickly, sounds that would make the population of sin city blush bouncing off the walls.

your vision was white, maybe your were screaming, it was hard to know what was going on when he had you about ready to ascend. when you fell over the edge, you were boneless, at one with the bed. you watched as he licked his lips, flopping onto the bed beside you.

he stroked your hair and you hummed, content and satiated.

lando didn’t dare look away from you while you came down.

apparently, it was rare to wake up after a wild night in vegas and remember the events of the night before.

lando remembered everything.

the exact shade of your eyes, the feel of red satin and black lace, the way you tasted.

your lips on his skin, hips in his hands, the way you moulded pliantly to his touch.

the way you gave as good as you got.

he was smiling before he’d even opened his eyes, reaching blinding across the bed, ready to propose round… four? five? lando had lost count.

warm hands met cold sheets and suddenly he was wide awake.

lando sat up dead straight, searching for a sign of life in the room. there was none. no shoes on the floor, no dress to match, no thong hanging from the door handle. a pit formed in his stomach.

is this how he made people feel?

waking up alone after the best sex of his life and no trace of the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on was quite miserable.

he thudded back into the mattress, hands shielding his eyes from the burn of daylight. he felt like shit, that was undeniable. when he’d fallen asleep, naked and with you nestled into his side, he couldn’t wait to wake up, perhaps arrogantly thinking that you’d be waking up with him. what was that saying, again?

hope breeds eternal misery.

his brain was wracked with the image of you and him, champagne flowing right before he’d taken you again, bent over the desk. and then again in the shower, a harmless attempt to clean yourselves up ending up with you on your knees before your cheek was pressed against the shower screen.

lando tried to fathom why you’d leave after the night you’d shared. there was something about it, something more intimate in the desperation you’d shared, that left him senseless as to why you were gone before the sun was in the sky.

just like he usually was.

it dawned on him, quite quickly, that the habits he’d made of quick fucks and fast getaways was not good form. it was reckless and casually cruel, and he felt guilt for the first time since his string of one night stands had begun. perspective was a crazy thing.

when he sluggishly made his way out of bed, he felt even worse.

-

“where’d you get to last night? we lost you after that terrible game of blackjack.” max teased, sipping his coffee.

lando found himself at the breakfast table, head rested on his hand and hoodie pulled tight. he wasn’t in the mood to talk, but max was like a dog with a bone; there was no avoiding this conversation.

“met a girl.” lando mumbled, aimlessly stirring the tea he knew he wasn’t going to drink.

“ah, understood.” max said, grinning knowingly. but then, as if lando’s bad mood finally clicked, he continued. “wait, why are you in a mood then?”

“tired.” lando replied, monotonously. he wasn’t quite sure how to unpack this one.

“bullshit.”

“woke up alone.”

“oh.”

“she was- i don’t know. just thought it would be different, that’s all.” lando couldn’t disguise the deflated tone of his voice.

“don’t tell me you caught feelings from a shag.” max rolled his eyes, chomping away at his toast. lando could barely stomach the sight of food.

“shut up, i’m not saying i fell in love. just liked something about her.”

“well, anything can happen in vegas. you never know, mate. she might find her way back to you.”

lando was getting ready for the netflix cup before he knew it. he’d managed to shake off max, escaping to the darkness of his room, the curtains drawn and the lights off.

he pretended it was the hangover that had him laying face down on his bed.

the last thing he wanted was to go and play corporate circus on the golfing green, but he figured some fresh air wouldn’t hurt. and so, he was in the backseat of a car well on his way to the tournament.

carlos couldn’t distract him, neither could alex or pierre. rickie fowler was much less interesting that he hoped, or maybe he wasn’t and lando just wasn’t interested enough. not even zak’s mclaren printed trousers could cheer him up.

lando was leaning into his golf club, starting mindlessly into the crowd, waiting for this garish event to begin when he caught a glimpse of someone he recognised. in a sea of influencers and obnoxious businessmen, there you were.

there you fucking were, in your knee high boots and a mini skirt, sunglasses perched on your nose, skintight top under an oversized blazer and hair shining under the warm sunlight. he lost his balance, the golf club slipping from underneath him, and the only thing that kept him upright was the burning urge to keep his eyes on you.

just who were you?

lando didn’t need to clarify whether or not you were looking at him, too. no, you made it abundantly clear by the way you winked at him, before pushing your sunglasses back up the bridge of your nose.

you fucking winked.

he took a step in your direction, shaky legs ready to carry him all the way over to you. he only had your first name and he craved your second, your phone number, anything really. he’d just take the small talk, to be completely honest.

but then the klaxon screeched, knocking him out of his trance and he whipped round to discover that they were ready to tee off. lando cursed under his breath, rapidly turning to search for your face but you were nowhere to be seen.

had he imagined you? had he imagined all of it?

every golf ball hit was hit with frustrated vengeance.

the week disappeared in a bittersweet blur.

lando had achieved multiple hangovers and about zero dollars in winnings, but he’d successfully managed to take his mind off of you.

okay, so that was a bare faced lie, but if lando didn’t lie to himself, he wouldn’t be able to lie to anyone else.

he wouldn’t be able to lie to max that he was no longer moping. he wouldn’t be able to lie to the media when they asked him if he was oh so excited about the race. he wouldn’t be able to lie to his team when they asked him if he was still suffering the consequences of his week long hangover.

lando had been rushing around all day, after a solid p4 in qualifying the night before. the entire day had been horrendous, sequins and bright lights being shone in his eyes. all he wanted to do was hide, get in the car and then go to bed.

fate had other plans.

lando was rushing to the front of the grid for the national anthem, certain that whatever display that was about to occur would make him nauseous. he was derailed on his journey, caught by rachel brookes in the pitlane, and then accosted by martin brundle once he’d made his was onto the grid.

“good qualifying yesterday and good luck today!” martin called to lando, turning to wrestle another insufferable celebrity.

as lando was making his getaway, ready to jog through the masses of people to his place at the front, he went barrelling into another body, putting his hands out to steady himself and the poor person that had become his collateral damage. as he regained his balance, he must have looked like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his head.

“are you stalking me?” was all he could choke out when his eyes met yours.

what the actual fuck were you doing here?

lando had given up on the possibility of ever seeing you again, and yet, here you were, stood under the bright floodlights on the grid, his office. this was the last place he’d expected you to show up, paddock pass swinging from your neck. again, what the actual fuck were you doing here?

“might as well be, at this point.” you teased. “hopefully you’ll do better today than you did at golf on tuesday.” you smiled coyly up at him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

lando was on quite the time crunch, glancing at the time on the clock at the front of the grid. he had a minute to spare, if he was lucky, but he had to talk to you, before you inevitably disappeared again.

“thought i’d get at least your phone number before you left.”

“from what i hear, you don’t usually stick around long enough for those.” you smirked.

well, his reputation certainly proceeded him. he couldn’t really argue with that.

“maybe i’m trying to change that.” lando attempted to flirt but really, he sounded desperate. you didn’t seem to mind.

“i’ll make you a deal,” you proposed, leaning in just a little bit closer. lando’s breath hitched in his throat. “get on that podium, and i’ll be waiting in your hotel lobby.”

“and if i don’t?” lando’s mouth was dry.

“maybe i’ll see you next year.”

lando watched you walk away, your hips swaying tantalisingly, wondering if the hefty fine he would be bollocked with would be worth it if he didn’t move his ass for the national anthem.

this would be the drive of his fucking life.

lando couldn’t recall a time he’d left a track faster in his life.

media duties were rushed, so was the shower he had before he fled. it was lucky he was already on the strip, so the walk to his hotel was blissfully short.

he entered the lobby with a shit eating grin and a comically large bottle of champagne in hand.

a string of second places had gotten rather frustrating, but this one felt particularly good. a podium was a podium, fair and square, and assuming you’d kept to your end of the bargain, he was in for the best celebration of his life.

sitting pretty at the bar that stretched through the lobby, you were waiting for him, heels swinging from the stool you rested on. denim clung to your hips, a dark corset style top moulding to your curves. he wondered if love at first sight was real; lust at first sight certainly was.

lando’s eyes beckoned to towards him, and you slipped inconspicuously into the elevator together, not wanting to draw too much attention to your rendezvous. it was a futile attempt, frankly, because he had you backed into the mirror before the doors had even fully shut.

kisses on your neck had your eyes fluttering closed, one of his knees slotting comfortably between your thighs. one of his hands was clasped tight around the neck of the neck of the bottle, giving lando the fantastic idea to find your neck with his free one. he held you firmly, forcing you to look at him.

“i’m gonna make you wish you never left.”

-

hours on the mattress pulling countless orgasms from one another left you both weak, exhausted, a little bit clingy.

lando felt electric. no other person had ever left him so feral, so euphoric.

he’d had you first against the door, pulling your jeans off and pinning you against it, your thighs in his firm grasp as he fucked you into the wooden panel. then, he’d taken you to bed, your knuckles turning white from your brutal grip on the headboard when he’d planted you down on his mouth. two orgasms later, you were face down in the sheets, ass in the air for him while he slammed into you like his life depended on it, pulling you into his chest by your hair when you reached your climaxes.

all that hard work called for a bath, where you both found yourselves now. it had started off quite innocently, sat at opposite ends of the extravagantly large bathtub amongst the bubbles. but then you’d given him those eyes, and then your back was pressed against his chest, your body draped over his. his head was nestled into the crook of your neck, one arm slung over your waist. his other hand brought the bottle of champagne to his lips, the liquid going down smoothly. lando pressed the bottle to your pursed lips too, trading backwards and forwards while your bodies relaxed into the hot water.

lando’s hand on your waist was getting restless, fingers drumming over your abdomen, up, up, up, until he found your breast. he circled your nipple with his finger, not quite touching the bud yet, but he could feel it hardening from his scarce touch. your hips rolled backwards into his, feeling him hardening once again against your lower back. lando cupped your breast, massaging it in his hands before he switched, flitting between your tits.

you slumped somehow even further into him, not a millimetre of space between your bodies. he was winding you up beautifully, heat burning between your legs once more. you didn’t know how you did it, how you could be so ready for each other after the eventful evening you’d already shared.

lando was flicking your nipples between his finger, switching back and fourth until you were moaning quietly. you took charge, the sensitivity building too quickly, and so you rolled over in his arms, clambering into his lap.

the bath water splashed around you, moving in small waves across the tub as you situated yourself on top of him, grinding down on him until he was buried deep within your walls. he found that spot, rolling your hips against his, and then you were rocking up and down on him, nice and slow. he touched parts of you that never had been before, the pace and the angle intensifying every little sensation. your head was thrown back, hands clawing at his shoulders for something to hold onto, just for the feel of him.

lando reached over the edge of the bathtub, blindly searching for the bottle he’d discarded while you’d been switching positions. he felt the green glass grazing his fingertips and brought it back to his lips, eyes trailing over your body in sheer awe.

he couldn’t help himself, taking a sip before tilting it towards you, pouring the golden bubbles over your clavicle, jaw tightening - just like your cunt did at the sensation - as he watched the sticky alcohol drip down over the curve of your bouncing breasts.

you quivered when you felt his tongue lap over your nipple, then the other, dragging over your sodden flesh until he reached the junction between your neck and your shoulder. he bit down, hard, eyes rolling back at the taste in his mouth and the way you clamped down around him, whimpering out between breathless pants.

lando felt you let go, stuttering on his cock and sinking down on top of him, the water - now lukewarm - soothing your tired limbs. he held you close, basking in the intimacy of the moment, his hearing honing in on the dull hum of ecstasy you expelled.

the bath grew colder and colder as you sat there, comfortable silence filling the air along with the quiet rush of water that came with any movements made. when the time came, lando held you up as you got off of him and stepped onto the plush rug, quickly following suit. you were eyeing the shower when he turned to hand you a towel.

“i think i need a shower, as much as i enjoyed the bath.” you spoke, opening the screen and stepping in to adjust the knobs.

lando weighed up his options, agonising over joining you or doing his back in. he couldn’t exactly tell his trainer that his back gave out from too much sex.

“am i invited?” lando asked, stepping in behind you, hands on your waist.

“seems like you’ve already invited yourself.” you teased, looking at him over your shoulder.

“no funny business, you.” lando rested his head on your shoulder.

“from me? you’re just as bad.” you quipped, letting the hot warm stream all over your flushed bodies.

lando stayed as he was for a second, but then you turned your head again, looking at him from the corner of your eye and he needed to kiss you. he couldn’t help but, and so he twisted you round to face him and leaned in. you were more than receptive, fingers raking through his wet curls.

the hot water rained down on you while you stood there, holding each other close. lando couldn’t put his finger on it, why he didn’t want to let you go. he couldn’t even begin to process the idea of having anyone else in his arms like this. it was absurd, really, but he was too caught up in the moment to care.

when you were both clean and dry, you laid down in bed, gazing mindlessly at one another. his eyes followed the lines of your face, the curve of your lips. he learned a lot about you, a formula 1 fan with who ran her own business and took herself on holiday to vegas. the conversation flowed like the champagne had and you were laughing at all his stupid jokes. in turn he grinned like a fool at your quick wit, the sound of your laughter.

“so what are you doing next? back to work?” lando asked, an idea forming in his mind like a tornado.

“nope,” you popped the p. “giving myself some well deserved time off.”

“have you ever been to abu dhabi?” lando asked, lips quirking mischievously.

-

inbox me your thoughts bc aaaaaaaa 😨😨

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239

i’ve removed tags that weren’t working! lemme know if u wanna be added or removed <3

[natailiatulls07]

Can you please do driver reader and she is the baby of the paddock and she gets sick and everyone is worried and looking after her including her team principal Christian

Worried Mothers Hens

Formula one grid & female!driver!reader

Summary - You get a cold/fever, and the drivers become like worried mother hens

Warning - Blacking out, crash, ibuprofen, mention of breaking your back

Reader drives for Redbull

-

- You're the youngest on the grid

- Only being 18 years old and the only female on the grid was a huge accomplishment

- Fans love you

- They think you’re the most iconic on the grid

- Your tiktok is filled with candid videos of other drivers

- Like this one time, you asked Carlos to crack your back

- Thing is he didn’t know that you had a uncooked piece of pasta between your teeth

- So when he went to crack your back, he freaked out

- The poor Spaniard thought he seriously broke your back

- “¡Dios mío!”

- “Y/n! I am so sorry! Are you okay?!”

- He kept worrying and apologised

- But when you started to laugh, he expression was concerned

- “¿Qué? ¿Estás bien?”

- “Carlos! It’s okay”

- The fans loved it!

- It was race day for the new Las Vegas Grand Prix

- And many cameras captured each driver as you all arrived separately

- But everyone noticed your pale face and sniffly nose

- Your race engineer, much like everyone else, was concerned

- “Are you sure you’re okay?"

- "Yeah I'll be fine"

- You weren't

- You crashed into turn 5

- "Y/n! Are you okay? Confirm you're okay?"

- Nothing

- You had blacked out down that straight from turn 4 to turn 5

- Luckily you're RB19 didn't cause any collision with any other car

- "That's a red flag! Red flag!"

- "Wait who? Where?" The british McLaren driver asked

- "Yeah I saw the collision, who was it Max or Y/n?" Daniel Ricciardo asked his race engineer

- But when they all found out who was in the car, their concerns for you went up like crazy

- "Is she okay? Has she responsed?"

- They were all instucted to enter the pit lane and would wait there until the race continued

- It's okay though

- You got out of the car unharmed and were told to head to medical centre in the paddock

- So thats what you did

- This did calm some nerves of the other drivers but they were all still that bit concerned as they were told they would continue the race soon

- The medical team told you to go back to your hotel and sleep this fever off

- And thats what you did

- You fell asleep straight away when you got into your hotel bed

- Only to be woken up a few hours later to a knock on the door

- "Come in" You shouted from the bed, only now noticing your scratchy throat

- Opening the door revealed Max, Carlos, Charles, Lando, Daniel and George

- (Pretend Lando didn't crash into the barrier and won)

- "Hey buddy how are you feeling?" The Australian asked as he came to sit by my feet on the bed

- "I've been better"

- Turns out after the race finished they all went to the local supermarket and made up a basket full of cold/fever remedies and all your favourite foods

- lemon cough sweets

- toffee popcorn

- ibuprofen

- etc

- For the rest of the evening, they completely babied you

- Happily watched your favourite childhood film

- Made sure the bed was comfortable for you

- Made you drink a lot of water and eat a lot of vitamin C

- And it's not like the fans missed out on this whole thing

- They all made sure to post regularly on their instagram stories

- Even agreeing to do a tiktok with you

- Overall, being the baby of the grid and being the most iconic really worked out in your favour

-

[noimnotmae]

L O S T | Max Verstappen

pt1

summary: after getting lost in the city of Las Vegas a kind stranger offers to help you get to your hotel.

max verstappen x female! CEO! reader

masterlist — pt2

[texts]

[Instagram]

yn_suárez ✔

like by urbff_user, mamasuárez, ceruleanbelle and 609,589 others

yn_suárez ✔ got lost on my first day 🙄

View all 10,387 comments

urbff_user WHOSE CAR IS THAT?

yn_suárez ✔ 😊

↑ urbff_user please tell me you didn't get inside a stranger's car?

mamasuárez are you ok?

yn_suárez ✔ yes, mama

↑ urbff_user oh, so we're lying now?

↑ yn_suárez ✔ nah uh

username1 CB founder getting kidnapped

username2 Ms.Yn in Vegas omg!

username3 please be safe, CB will be nothing without you 🙏

❤️ liked by yn_suárez ✔

username4 yn always getting in trouble wherever she goes

urbff_user ikr

username5 that car looks kinda familiar 🤔

[texts]

[twitter]

this is my first ever writing something like this. i am also a new fan of F1 so please be nice. I was inspired by the many social media aus I've seen and decided to take it upon myself to write one as well. I'm not very confident abt this one but I had a lot of fun writing it :)

[maidragoste]

The Day After

Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

Yesterday I felt more confident posting this (maybe because I finished writing it having a fever lol) but I want to share it anyway because I miss posting

Please feel free to like, leave a comment or reblog. These things motivate me to keep writing

And if you have any ideas, any headcanons or just want to talk about something my inbox is always open

Now I wish you all a good read <3

Aegon looks so calm and you don't know how to feel about that. You think he should be nervous, panicking, or even uncomfortable but he's happy eating the breakfast that the two of you ordered from room service at the hotel, as if today was a normal day, as if it wasn't crazy that you woke up next to him with a ring on your ring finger.

But you don't feel nervous, scared, or uncomfortable about this situation either.

When you were invited to Martyn's bachelor party in Las Vegas you never imagined that you would end up married to your best friend but you're not upset.

Of course, you were both drunk, you were left alone in the bar while everyone else went to the slots, and you ended up confessing that you were bummed that you weren’t married yet and that you were afraid of ending up alone. So Aegon told you to marry him and you laughed, you told him that he didn’t need to go to that extreme to make you feel better but he insisted, he told you that if he won the roulette then you two should get married. Of course, he won by choosing your birthday as his number. And that’s how you two ended up getting married.

You weren't nervous when you signed the papers or when you kissed. You thought it would be weird to kiss him but it felt good. You liked the softness of his lips and how he held your face like you were something precious. Aegon also had to enjoy kissing you because he couldn't seem to separate his lips from yours as they walked back to his room making you feel like a lovestruck schoolgirl again. You were happy and delighted. Your teenage self didn't think you would ever dare to be with Aegon without being afraid of ruining your friendship.

Last night Aegon made you feel loved and wanted. He kissed and worshipped your body like you were a deity.

“What are you thinking about?” your husband asked, drawing your attention.

“Nothing,” you said, and hurried to take a sip of your coffee to have an excuse not to talk.

Aegon raised an eyebrow at you, “Liar, you’re wrinkling your brow.”

Of course, he knew the expression you made when you tried to lie. You didn’t mind that detail, it was more like he was giving you another confirmation of why he was the man for you.

“I was thinking about us,” you finally admitted.

“It hasn’t even been a day and you’re already regretting marrying me?” You could see that he tried to say it as a joke but you could feel that he genuinely cared, noticing that his eyes seemed to have suddenly lost their sparkle and his body wasn’t as relaxed as before.

“I don’t regret marrying you” you declared without hesitation and you saw how the tension disappeared from his body. “And you?” you asked although you were already sure you knew the answer.

“Of course not” he answered instantly, almost seeming offended by your question.

You smiled feeling your heart warming up. “Good”

“Good,” he repeated, mirroring your smile. “I love you,” he said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn't the first time he told you he loved you but this time it was different. He didn't say it as your best friend, nor did he say it when he was drunk or in the heat of the moment. You had no doubt about his feelings for you.

You leaned over the table to kiss him. "I love you too," you said on his lips.

The truth is that neither of you was afraid of the future; in fact, you couldn't wait to see what was coming. You two would probably have to tolerate criticism from your families for having done things in the wrong order and for having dared to take such a step, but that didn't worry either of you now that you were together.

Taglist: @chaotic-fangirl-blog @venus-flytrap3 @ajordan2020 @iloveallmyboys @sweethoneyblossom1 @fudge13 @crystal-faith @tita004 @ichanelvxgue @snowprincesa1 @joyouart @rosey1981 @alastorhazbin @papichulo120627 @apollonshootafar @jasminecosmic99 @partypoison00 @labellapeaky @rebelliuna @bxdbxtxh15 @impartinghades @thegirlnextdoorssister @angeliod @snh96 @aleemendoza2425-blog @natashaobo @watercolorskyy @nyenye @savagemickey03 @kishie8 @ewwwitsel @arabis-world @missusnora @nzygftoji @alisoncdariel @cookielovesbook-akie @partnerincrime0 @klara-lily @427120lxld @justhereiguess2 @buckylahey @wa801 @artistadistrada2002 @thelastemzy @justanotherkpopstanlol @jacesvelaryons @aemondwhoresworld @cassiopeiablogg-blog @multiversemayhemme @dixie_elocin

hotd masterlist

[harrysgal]

I DIG YOUR CINEMA (3)

harry styles x yn aspiring filmmaker — social media AU

Praying I am not being too much or embarrassing myself. Also I am still trying to figure things out. Please be patient and kind. Also thank you for the feedback on parts 1 and 2!

About the smau: yn starts posting videos on youtube and is trying to build a career as a filmmaker. Things are going pretty well for her and she starts getting more attention when she creates content about shows she goes to. She’s also a fan of Harry’s music and some of his fans start getting suspicious when his team starts interacting with her.

Disclaimer: The story it’s set in 2021 and it will follow their relationship through the LOT leg in the US. Since this is nothing but fiction, I will be following some of the real timeline but also adding my own stuff. On top of that, I won’t be basing myself on Harry’s actual posts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PART 2 — LAS VEGAS // MASTERLIST

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I DIG YOUR CINEMA (PART 3) — DENVER

(AKA ONLINE DRAMA)

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— — — — — 

PART 4: THE VIDEO

[luveline]

Craving a postprison!Spencer x stripper!reader fic, please ma’am.

Maybe she gets a daytime job at a coffee shop or a bookstore - to “supplement her income”/ not have to dance as often (not that she’s ashamed!!) and Spencer is just so proud of her for trying and can’t quit kissing her and praising her because I know in other fics you’ve mentioned she didn’t think anyone would hire her because of her profession/self esteem, plus after prison she didn’t want to dance because she wanted to be with Spencer. 🥺

Or really just anything with a proud Spencer x stripper!reader doing anything.

Your work is fantastic and I’m in love with everything you do!! 💕 thank you and it’s totally okay if you think this request is lame or don’t wanna write it!

thank you angel! —you find a new job while making decisions about your old one after Spencer returns from prison, and Spencer would praise you for breathing, so he’s extremely proud. fem, 1.8k

Statistics differ, but estimates suggest that there are around twenty thousand strippers in Las Vegas. With a population of seven hundred thousand people (estimated up), that means that one in thirty five people living in Las Vegas dances for a living. 

It’s more than you’d think. Spencer knew of plenty of women who worked as strippers, exotic dancers, or private entertainers when he was still living at home. And while the numbers are much smaller in Washington DC where he lives now, it’s far from zero. More surprising for the average person to be one, perhaps, but not for Spencer. 

It used to make him blush like a steam train, sure, but it never did any of the things you were scared of. He’s never looked down on you for it, never been jealous (well, never acted like a jerk because of it), never positioned it as anything other than work. His only complaints are in your concern. You don’t like the club, most of the time. You feel unsafe often. The risk of femicide is yards higher for you as a sex worker than it would be otherwise, but who is Spencer to talk about danger? He still has stitches in his leg. 

Your job used to feel more urgent, a red flashing light above your head, because you’d come around with bruises or cut knees, tear stained cheeks, and you couldn’t make ends meet for all your efforts, but things have changed. You’re reluctant to depend on him, but you’ll accept the help when you need it. Nothing keeps you there if you don’t want to be there, and when you do you’re a marvel. You are beautiful, in Spencer’s eyes. Your dancing when you’re having a good night is one of the prettiest things he’s ever seen —more than pretty, sometimes. A hot coal in his stomach. 

But the fact of the matter is that Spencer’s home, and you don’t want to dance. You haven’t been to the club for weeks as far as he’s aware, and he’d consider himself well informed. You spent all your savings and started spending his instead and he couldn’t care less, what’s his is yours, whatever keeps you aloft while you make whatever decision it is you’re working toward. Not that it presented itself that way. 

I’ll have to go back.

Spencer on his back, you sitting with your head turned from the TV and toward him, your hand on his hip, just resting. Where?

To work. I have enough money for the next two weeks, and then I’m all out. 

Spencer wouldn’t do something as unkind as rolling his eyes, but the point of you moving in was to cement that he’d look after you no matter what. He’d turned his head to you on his pillow and reached for your elbow. You’re still resting. 

You’ve been home for two months, Spencer. I’ve rested enough. I… I only managed this long because you haven’t asked me for anything and that’s not fair, we both live here. 

I earn more than you, so I pay more, he’d said, confused. It’s not as though it hurt him to continue paying for an apartment he’s been living in for years. 

I won’t be your leech. 

You’re not my leech, don’t say that.

I can’t just not have money. 

Well… he’d said. He’d never discussed it with you so openly before, always stopped at the first suggestion, but there’s a first time for everything. You know you can have whatever you want from me. Anything you want, you don’t have to ask. 

Spencer… you’re my boyfriend. 

Exactly. 

No, you’re my boyfriend. You don’t have to keep me. I don’t want that. 

He understood the ‘want’ most heavily. What do you want, angel? he’d asked, dragging your hand up his naked chest to rest over his diaphragm, your arm moving up and down in time with his breathing. 

You’d seemed stricken, but not upset. Like the question surprised you in having no answer. Not sure… you’d said eventually. Mostly you. 

A week passed, two. A third and you’d asked him to borrow money, just for a little while, and with the vehement promise you’d pay him back. 

He’s not expecting it. So soon, either. But here you are standing in front of him with a beaming smile and little book in your hands, unzipping one of the book's inner pockets to count out the money you’d ’borrowed’. “Here you go, my angel, there’s everything.” 

Spencer just looks at it. “What is it?” 

“The money I owe you.” 

He presses his hands to his stomach to stop you from forcing the notes into them. “You don’t owe me anything.” 

“No, seriously, please take it.” 

He shakes his head. “Seriously. I don’t want anything from you, I love you. That money was for you to do what you wanted, or needed. It was yours as soon as I gave it to you.” 

You try regardless to put it in his hands. Your hair was done freshly a week ago, your nails manicured but unpainted, your face adorned with some new makeup he’d seen on his (your) vanity a few days ago. It honestly hadn’t crossed his mind why you’d suddenly given yourself a refresh, and he had no suspicions. You would’ve told him if you went to the club, even just via text, because it’s important he knows you’ve had access to your phone or that you’re coming home. (Plus, he’d notice you leaving at night. You’ve spent the last few evenings laying across his lap.)

“Where did you get this?” he asks, smiling softly, wondering if he’s come to the right conclusion. 

You drop the money on his thigh and take a couple of steps back. 

“I,” you say, holding your little book to your stomach, “got a job as a barista. They gave me my first paycheck today, a direct deposit. So I took out what I owe you and the rest of it is in here.” 

“You what?” he asks. 

“I’m working at the coffeehouse by the library,” you say, nodding, parts proud of yourself and parts shy. 

“For how long? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

You bite your lip. “Just this week. And honestly, I didn’t want you to know if I couldn’t do it.” 

Spencer stands up but doesn’t cross the room to you. He could reach out and catch your hand. “How could you work somewhere new all week without me noticing?” 

“You weren’t here on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday morning, and they gave me Thursday off, so I just told you a very small lie this morning about going to the store. I knew you’d get distracted by your Persian poetry again.” 

He did get distracted, very much so. You’ve been and worked a whole shift without his worrying, which is a bit awful in itself (he really does love you, and he’d like to know where you are), but is also, frankly, a great thing. You should be able to work without worry. You should do anything you want to do. 

Still, a whole week at a brand new job without any support, and to stand there with your paycheck as unmistakable waves of satisfaction melt off of you unkissed is insanity. Spencer’s laughing as he ushers you into his arms, as he hugs your shoulders tightly, “Oh my god!” he says, “Wow, congratulations!” He pulls back just a touch to see your face. “Please don’t lie to me about where you’re going, that’s so dangerous. I love you!” 

He takes your face into both hands with your arms hanging loosely behind his back and begins a reckoning of kisses. The slope of your cheek, the skin between your nose and lips, Spencer couldn’t care less where the kisses land, he just wants them all over you. You laugh softly as he goes, almost stickily, a sound that comes deep from your chest. “I’m so proud of you,” he says, pressing a quick, mildly rougher kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“I might still strip,” you say. 

“Whatever you want,” he says, squeezing your face between his palms. “What’s it like? Do you like it? Is it hard?” He kisses you again. “I wish you’d told me,” he says against your lips. 

You’re quieter than he expected, and warm. He pulls away more sternly to see what’s gone wrong. He could’ve asked the wrong questions. Maybe he’s embarrassed you. 

“I just wanted to make sure I could do it. I didn’t want to fail and… and have you know. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, I get it.” God knows he’s failed a hundred times for you to see it. He wishes he would have hidden a lot of that from you, spared you some heartache, but he also knows how lucky he is to have you near. “That’s what we’re supposed to do, right? We should be together when stuff goes wrong.” He beams. “But it didn’t go wrong.” 

“I think I’m pretty good at it.” 

“Yeah?” 

You hold his wrist. “And I get tips, did you know that? Not as many as before,” —you laugh to yourself loudly— “but still. It’s really cool. They pay me even if nobody wants coffee, and when people want coffee I get extra.” 

Spencer kisses the corner of your eye. He kisses up to your eyebrow and down again, all over your cheek before turning your face to the other side to kiss circles into the other. “I,” —kiss— “can’t,” —kiss— “believe it.” Kiss. “Actually, I can, but I still can’t.” 

“It’s just a part time job.” 

“That you didn’t think you could do,” he says. “But you can do anything, I knew you could. I’m amazed by you.” 

He grins and throws his arms over your shoulders. 

You squeeze him right back, the two of you swaying, almost falling over. He can feel how proud you are of yourself. You deserve to feel this way no matter what. 

“I like dancing,” you say, “I do, I just wish I could do it in a different… world? Is that stupid?” 

“No. You’re never stupid.” He smiles as your hand weaves into his hair, fingertips scratching along his scalp, his curls caught between your fingers. 

“Do you think you could come on Monday? I can make you a cup of coffee. It’s not as hard as it looks.” 

“Please, I’d love for you to make me a cup of coffee.” His smile presses to your shoulder, where he breathes you in briefly, before remembering something very important. “Hey, do you wear an apron?” 

“Of course I do.”

Oh my god, he thinks. There are more than half a million baristas in the United States, and Spencer will bet his monthly paycheck that you’re the cutest one to ever exist. You look cute right now in your jeans and your button up shirt, but put an apron on top of that? To see you standing behind a bar mixing drinks and pouring latte art? Monday can’t come quick enough. 

[specialagentlokitty]

Rick Grimes x reader - so perfect

Hello👋👋 Rick fluff where he comes home and just sees reader hanging out with the kids. And he just stops and watches them, thinking how lucky he is to have her. Please and thank you. Love your work btw❤❤❤. - @hoodiepandaninja16 💜

Holding Judith in your arms, you looked at Carl as he threw a tennis ball against the side of the house, catching it in his hand to throw it again.

“Carl?”

He looked over, stopping what he was doing.

“If you keep throwing that at all wall, you’re gonna break a hole in it eventually.”

He chuckled a little, looking at the tennis ball.

“Sorry, guess I got lost thinking.”

“Hey, not me you need to be sorry too, that poor house has been getting beat on for at least an hour.”

He laughed again, walking over to you, letting you place a hand on his head, and he rested his head on your shoulder.

“What’s going on?” You asked quietly.

He sighed a little bit, offering you nothing more than just a shrug.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m just thinking about a lot of stuff you know? Sometimes it’s hard not to when it’s all you can do.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nah.”

You nodded, letting him move away from you and over to the front of the house where he sat down, so you did the same.

Placing Judith on the porch next to you, and Carl handed her his tennis ball.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But if you do you know I’ll listen.”

“Thanks (Y/N).”

You smiled at him, and you leant back on your hands, looking at the skies that were threatening to downpour at any moment.

It was still sunny, but the clouds were rolling in quickly, and given the thunder that was in the distance it would be here soon.

“Do you think dad will make it back before the storm hits?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure.”

“You really don’t lie don’t you? Could’ve at least tried to lie for me.” Carl mocked.

You laughed a little, grinning down at him.

“Nope, what’s the point. The truth will come out eventually, whether you want it to or not, by lying your just wasting your own time.”

“Do you think he’ll be alright?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Carl nodded his head, he believed you.

Judith rolled the ball and you caught it before it went down the steps, rolled it gently back over to you and she giggled.

She pushed it back, so you once again pushed it back.

“Can you go through my bag and find my deck of cards?” You asked.

“Yeah, why?” Carl asked back.

“We’re gonna be stuck inside soon, May as well find some way to pass the time.”

You did try to keep them outside for as long as possible, but when it started to rain you decided to bring them inside.

Carl was insistent that he wanted to wait by the gate, but you wouldn’t let him.

So, you all sat on the floor of the living room, music coming from the stereo that you had put on.

Judith sat in your lap, and you tried teaching Carl how to play poker.

“Seriously, how is this in any way helpful?”

“It’s not, it’s just fun as hell.”

He grinned a little at you.

“Dad’s gonna hate you trying to teach me this, you know that right?”

“I could teach you how to throw them.”

“Like throwing stars?”

You nodded and he immediately sat up.

“Hell yes.”

“Hey, language. I’m an adult you’re not, your dad will kick my ass if he finds out.”

“Our secret?” Carl grinned.

You hummed, thinking for a moment as you studied with narrowed eyes.

“I used to cheat at poker in Las Vegas and was was banned from returning.”

“What?”

“You tell your dad that I’ll tell him you swear when he’s not around.”

You held your hand out and Carl grinned, shaking your hand.

“Deal.”

You let go, and you picked up one of the play cards, looking at the apple you had set on the table not long before.

Aiming, you threw the card, it curved a little in the air but lodged itself into the apple.

“Holy shit…”

“Hey! Just because I said I wouldn’t tell doesn’t mean you can keep doing it!”

“Show me again.”

While Judith slept on the couch you taught Carl some of the tricks of the trade you had learnt over time.

Carl was pretty quick with picking some of them up, others not so much, but the card throwing was his new favourite.

You had ran out of apples to throw them at, so you went to throwing them into his hat instead.

“Where did you learn this?”

“I spent a lot of time in Vegas kid, you pick up a lot of things in a place like that.”

“Did you have a gambling problem or something?”

You rolled your eyes.

“No, I was a professional gambler. Well, fraudster I guess, we worked as a team, taking casinos for all they were worth, using all the tricks, same with street hustling.”

“So, just a petty criminal then.”

“Ouch, petty? I’ll have you know I was wanted in over half the states for this shit.”

“And… you’re with my dad, who’s a cop?”

“Yeah that crap doesn’t matter now, what’s he gonna do, arrest me?”

“Yeah you’ve got a point.”

You handed him a couple more cards, looking to Edith as she moved.

Getting up, you held your arms out to her and picked her up, holding her in one arm as you slapped the card Carl threw back at him.

“I’m going to feed her, you want anything?”

“Yeah, I’ll help.”

You guys made dinner, setting a plate aside for Rick, just in case he came back that night.

While Carl spent time with his sister you washed up and made your way back inside to see him dancing around the living room with her.

“You call that dancing?”

You laughed a little, and you swept Judith into your arms.

“First, it’s always gentlemanly to bow.”

You did a small bow, and he did the same thing, and then you held your palm out to him.

“Put your palm on mine.”

He did, and you began teaching him the steps to a simple dance you had learned a long time ago.

Because of the thunder, you didn’t hear the door opening, and Rick stood against doorway, crossing his arms as he watched the tree of you.

Judith was giggling each time you turned around.

“Where did you learn to dance like this?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I actually did drama when I was your age? Specialised in Shakespeare.”

“So… like a million years ago?”

“Ouch, okay, you know what Carl Grimes, I thought we were friends, but we’re not.”

He laughed, and you heard a laugh from behind you.

Both of you turned over and he walked over to his dad.

You walked over, handing Rick his daughter back and you smiled at him, gesturing to the kitchen.

“Food ready for you, just need to heat it up.”

“Thanks, I’ll get her to bed then I will.”

“I’ll heat it, you do what you have to do.” You smiled.

Rick went upstairs with Carl, and you went into the kitchen to heat up his dinner for him.

While he was up there he grabbed a shower, changing into some fresh clothes while you were setting his plate on the table.

He came back downstairs, and you were cleaning the kitchen, humming a little to yourself.

He sat down, his chin resting on his hand as he just watched you.

This whole time since the prison you had been with him, you had helped him, supported him, never questioning any of the choices he made.

You had complete faith in him, and here you were, looking after his children for him even though you didn’t have too.

After everything he had done, Rick wasn’t sure how he still had somebody like you.

He had no clue what he did to even deserve somebody like you.

Yet here you were, standing right in front of him, as if the whole world was perfect, and in that moment he could have sworn it was.

“Teach me that dance.”

You turned around, looking at him, then the food he hadn’t touched.

“Eat, then asked again.”

He chuckled, quickly eating his dinner, washing up after himself and he walked into the living room where you were sat.

“Now will you teach me the dance?”

You smiled, getting up.

“First, the gentleman thing to do is bow.”

You bowed, snd he copied you.

You held up your hand, and he placed his palm over yours.

Whatever move you made he did the same thing, his eyes locked with yours as you both slowly danced.

This was it, this was perfect, his eyes focused on yours, everything else seeming nothing but background noise.

Rick slowly moved his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and he smiled softly, warm eyes focused on yours.

He held a nervous breath as he watched you, and you smiled softly back, copying him

[sinofwriting]

Homecoming - Oscar Piastri/Reader/Logan Sargeant (Part Two)

Words: 1,131 Summary: After showing up to the hotel, she of course attends the Las Vegas Grand Prix. Note(s): This was commissioned by the lovely Mari on Ko-fi! I hadn’t thought about this fic in a while until you asked for a part two. So everyone make sure to read part one first! Takes place at Las Vegas GP 2023 Part One

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“Wait, wear the shorts instead.”

She just barely resists throwing something at Logan and Oscar thumps the American lightly before pressing a kiss to the area. “It’s a night race.”

“But you’re legs, baby. You’re legs.” Logan practically moans.

She looks at the shorts, considering. It was just them doing the track walks and going over data. No practice until tomorrow. “Fine, but if I get cold”

Oscar stops her, “we’ll just warm you up.”

She shakes her head but starts putting them on, nose wrinkling as she adjusts the waistband.

“Am I allowed to be at the track walk?”

“Should be. Ben goes. I think I’ve seen Lily do one.”

“Lily did the track walk in Japan, to help fill out the people walking around.” Oscar says before kissing Logan. “Now, get dressed. Boxers aren’t appropriate wear at the track.”

She sighs, leaning against the dresser and eyeing Logan’s spread out half naked body. “If only they were.”

Oscar makes a humming noise in agreement and the oldest of them turns pink, getting up.

“Alright, you two. No objectifying me.”

“Never.” She kisses his cheek. “We just want to be able to look at you.”

“Very true.”

Logan grins, shaking his head. “You two are adorable.”

A small laugh leaves her. “We know.”

Oscar and her sit on the bed as they watch Logan get ready. He takes the longest of the three of them but still only takes maybe ten minutes.

“Alright,” Logan says, picking up a set of keys. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

—

Oscar nudges her, seeing her furrowed eyebrows as she looks at an outline of the track. “What’s up?”

“It looks like an upside down pig.”

Oscar’s eyes immediately lock on the outline and he snorts. “It does.”

“I think this will be a good track.”

“Sainz got a hole punched through his car.”

She waves her hand, trying not to think about how hard it had been to watch Logan and Oscar climb back in their cars after. “I don’t care about Sainz.”

“If it had been George on the other hand,” Logan starts.

She sighs, “If I wasn’t with you two, I’d happily be with George and Carmen.”

“Thanks, baby.”

She laughs, turning to look at Logan. “I said if I wasn’t with you two.” She pokes his cheek. “And there isn’t a world where that doesn’t happen.”

Logan smiles and she feels Oscar press a kiss to her shoulder.

“Alex was trying to figure out where he recognized you from.”

“Your phone. Oscar’s phone.”

“Yeah, he tried asking but then told me not to tell him cause he wanted to figure it out.”

“And you just let him?”

“He’s texted me twice with guesses.” Logan laughs.

—

“George.”

“Alex.”

Alex ignores the raised eyebrow from George. “Please tell me you recognize the girl with Logan and Oscar. I swear I’ve seen her before, but I have no idea.”

George looks over, eyes squinting. “She looks vaguely familiar. Instagram?”

He shakes his head, “no.”

“Uh, what’s her name?”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah, I’ve got nothing. Daniel could know.”

Alex just scoffs. “You just want to talk to Daniel.” But he’s already starting to walk to where Daniel is standing, Max and Charles with him.

“As if you don’t.” George murmurs, following him.

“Daniel.”

The older grins, “Albono! How are you today?”

“I’m alright, hey do you recognize the girl with Oscar and Logan?”

Daniel turns to look over and so do Charles and Max. “Okay, I know she’s the only girl there, but the one with Logan’s hand on her ass and Oscar’s arm around her shoulders?”

Alex blinks at the description because that couldn’t be, but he looks and yep, Logan definitely has a hand on her ass and Oscar does have an arm over her shoulders. “Yeah, that one.”

“No. No idea.”

“Dammit.” He groans.

“I wonder how long they’ve been together.”

“What?”

Max looks at Alex confused. “Well, she’s obviously dating one or both of them. Wonder how long.”

Alex groans, remembering seeing a picture of her on Logan’s lock screen.

“Easy enough to find out.” Daniel grins, before raising both hands to his mouth, slightly amplifying his next words. “Oscar! Logan! Come here!”

They watch as the two rookies exchange a confused glance, but they come over, the girl between them coming with.

“Hi. How are you two feeling?”

Oscar shrugs. “Alright. Not a bad track.”

“Yeah, hopefully the racing isn’t shit though.”

Charles shakes his head at the very slight jab to the FIA, though they more than deserve it, and extends his hand to the only girl. “I don’t think we’ve met before, I’m Charles.”

She smiles, shaking his hand and giving her name. “It’s nice to meet you. All of you.” She says, making eye contact with them all.

“You too!” Daniel says, grinning. “How long have you known the rookies here?”

“Well, Logan and I have known each other since we were born and I met Oscar not long after Logan did.”

“Wow, that’s a long time.”

“It is.” She laughs, and the older drivers watch as Logan and Oscar smile at the sound.

“Is this your first race?”

“It’s my first F1 race, I went to a few F2 and F3 races when I could.”

“Not nearly enough.” Logan playfully huffs.

“Oh, are you in school?” Alex asks.

“No, I’m in the military though as of forty-eight hours ago I’m in the inactive reserves.”

“You did get your degree in sports medicine though.” Oscar adds.

“That’s amazing and you’re just as old as them?”

“Bit younger than Oscar, but not even by a year.”

“Impressive.” Max says.

She shakes her head, “Says the three time world champion by twenty-six.”

He laughs, “just means I know better than anyone what is impressive.”

“Stop flirting with Max,” Oscar playfully scolds, nudging her a bit. “Charles is right there and so is your crush.” Oscar tilts his head towards George.

“And y’know we are here too.” Logan adds.

“Me.” George points at himself.

She sighs, “If Logan and Oscar didn’t exist, I would be asking Carmen and you if I could join.”

Daniel lets out a loud laugh, setting off Max and Charles, as Alex looks at her in disbelief while George tries not to laugh, his shoulders visibly shaking, as Logan and Oscar shake their heads.

“So, I shouldn’t let Carmen know?”

She shrugs, “that is up to you.”

“She is gonna love you.” Daniel laughs, clapping George on the shoulder. “You two have your hands full.” He says to Oscar and Logan, wiggling his eyebrows.

Oscar sighs.

“Just a bit.” Logan says.

And the five drivers watch as she presses a kiss to Logan’s then Oscar’s cheek, the two boys instantly grinning at the contact.