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byersbootyshorts · 2 years ago

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Not So Smart Now (S.R.)

Spencer’s intelligence and cocky attitude has always infuriated you. So, when given the chance, you revel in putting him in his place.

Word Count: 2,882

EXPLICIT CONTENT MINORS DNI!!

Warnings: sub!s7!Spencer, dom!reader, smut, unprotected sex, hate sex, dumbification, slapping, degradation, alcohol consumption, language

cocky Spencer is so yummy I wanna rip him apart

This case had been rough. The unsub had slipped through your fingers again and again and each time it seemed like he slipped further away. You forced your eyes to focus as you combed through a plethora of files, trying desperately to find something that could link the unsub to his victims. You sipped your coffee like your life depended on it, but not even the caffeine could help you find what you were missing. Morgan was sitting opposite you and he sighed in frustration. Emily paced back and forth going through the case in her head. You were all stumped.

You looked up at the investigation board, trying to give your eyes a rest from the tiny black letters they’d been staring at. You scanned the photos of the crime scenes. All of the women were found dead in their backyard. Drowned in the clean blue waters of their outdoor pools. You raised a brow, your eyes flicking frantically between the photos. The clean… blue… CLEAN!

“Oh my God, that’s it!” you exclaimed, springing out of your chair in excitement. Emily and Morgan looked at you with expectant expressions.

“What?” Emily asked after you stared in awe at what you’d missed for so long.

“All the pools, they were-,” you began, but just as you were about to explain your theory, Spencer burst through the door, not even aware that you were revealing a crucial part of the case, and began rambling.

“Guys, all the pools were cleaned the day each victim was killed. There wasn’t so much as a leaf or a bug sitting on the surface of the water. So, I checked, and they all hired the same pool cleaner.”

Spencer set a file down on the table that contained a picture of the guy you assumed was the unsub that had been evading you for so long. But you couldn’t even feel relief that you’d finally found him. Because you didn’t find him. Well, you would’ve if Spencer ‘boy genius’ Reid hadn’t of found him first.

The team rifled through photos and records of the unsub for a few minutes before Morgan finally asked you, “Oh, what was it you figured out?”

You glanced over at Spencer with a look that could kill before answering, “It doesn’t matter now. I think Spencer’s got it all covered.” Your voice was higher pitched than usual as you tried your best to fake a pleasant tone. You plastered a false smile on your face and Morgan shrugged, looking back down at the pages on the table.

You tried to follow suit, picking up a page printed with the guy’s phone records. You knew the only thing on your mind should be figuring out how to find this son of a bitch. But you couldn’t concentrate. You were literally seconds away from saying exactly what Spencer said before he stormed in and stole your thunder. He did it all the time. And you hated him for it.

The case was solved and the unsub was found. As always, the team congratulated Spencer on figuring it all out. And you allowed them to. One thing didn’t want to do was make a fuss and say you solved it too. But if he smiled that stupid, cocky smile one more time, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to contain your anger. And sure enough, you couldn’t.

You had just touched down at Quantico. You walked with Emily and JJ to the bullpen to collect some things before leaving. Then, as always, you ended up standing around your desk chatting about the case.

“I don’t think I’ve ever drunk as much coffee in a 24 hour period than I did on that case,” Emily laughed.

“It was rough,” JJ sighed. “I’m glad we got him. I don’t know how many pools there are in Florida but if we hadn’t of caught him I’m sure he wouldn’t have run out of victims.”

You smiled. Finally this was something that would prove your intelligence to the group.

“Actually there’s one mill-,”

“There are one million, five hundred and ninety thousand pools in Florida.”

You turned around to glare at who’d interrupted you. Your eyes narrowed when you saw Spencer sitting at his desk. He hadn’t even looked up from his computer before he’d stolen your opportunity to be smart.

“Oh my God!” you shouted, your eyes widening in disbelief. Of course he had interrupted you again.

Spencer turned to face you at the sound of your raised voice. A puzzled expression spread across his face. He was clueless. He didn’t even know he was doing it.

You knew you should just let it slide and say, “Yeah, that’s correct,” or “That’s what I was going to say,” but you couldn’t this time. You were done putting up with him constantly undermining you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you said, almost laughing at just how much of an ignorant asshole he was.

“Huh?” Spencer grunted, getting up from his desk and walking towards the three of you.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?” you asked. You stepped forward so there were only inches between the two of you. Your eyes stared daggers into his.

Spencer shook his head in confusion, his breath wavering slightly. You pretended not to notice the blood rush from his face and down his neck towards… Nope. You weren’t thinking about that.

“You know what, just forget it,” you said, stepping away from him. “You’re not worth my time.” You grabbed your bag, stormed out of the building, got in your car, and sped home.

It had been about thirty minutes since you’d slammed your apartment door, grabbed a bottle of vodka from your cabinet and sat on your couch, scrolling aimlessly through random TV channels. You drank straight from the bottle, your mind reeling with hatred for Spencer. It was like he had some sort of radar that could sense when you were going to say something impressive. And when that radar went off, he had to come in and ruin everything. He was such a know-it-all. And maybe he did know it all, but he didn’t have to rub it in everyone’s faces all the time.

You took another swig from the bottle and sighed. You had no idea how you were going to face him the next day. Being on the team with him was becoming insufferable. You had to do something to stop yourself from wanting to punch him every time you saw him.

It was just past midnight, but you were still wide awake, when you heard a knock on your door. Your brow furrowed as you considered who it could be at this late hour. You set the bottle of vodka on the coffee table and went to unlock the door. When the door swung open your eyes darkened at the figure in front of you. It was Spencer.

“What is your problem with me?” he asked, not even bothering to say hello.

You let out an uncontrollable laugh of sheer anger at his utter obliviousness. The only reason he should be showing up at your door in the middle of the night was to apologise. And yet here he was, not even aware of what he’d done wrong.

“You are unbelievable,” you sighed, turning away from the door and walking back into your apartment. Spencer took that as an invitation to come in, so he stepped forward and shut the door behind him.

“No, seriously, why don’t you like me?” he insisted. “Because I can’t think of anything I’ve done to you that should make you act like this.”

Spencer’s voice raised and his tone became sharp. You couldn’t believe this. He was angry? He had no right to be angry with you.

“Well, Doctor Reid, maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are if you can’t figure out something that’s so painfully obvious,” you snapped.

“Enlighten me, then. Tell me why you hate me so much,” Spencer retorted.

“No,” you said. “If you can’t see what you’re doing wrong then I’m not telling you.”

“Tell me why you hate me and I’ll tell you why I hate you.”

You paused for a moment. You knew your feelings towards him were of hatred, but you had no idea he returned those feelings. Now you were curious

“I hate you because you can’t shut up for one second to let someone else say something smart for once,” you began hastily, desperate to know what he hated about you, but also relieved to get everything off your chest. “Everyone knows you’re a genius, Spencer. You don’t need to prove it all the damn time.”

“What, so you hate me because I’m smart?” Spencer questioned.

“No, I hate you because you don’t let anyone else be smart. I hate you because you get that stupid little grin on your face every time you say something smart.” You began walking towards him, slowly backing him against the wall. “I hate you because every time I see you I have to force myself not to slap that cocky grin right off your face.”

Spencer stayed silent for a moment. He was almost right up against the wall. Your face was so close to his you could feel his breath. You could also feel something else starting to grow in his pants.

“Well, don’t force yourself this time,” Spencer breathed.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“Hit me,” he said bluntly, his mouth widening into that familiar, infuriating grin.

“Oh, don’t tempt me,” you said, taking a step back.

“No, do it. Hit me,” he said, genuinely.

You gave him a hesitant look but he continued to smirk like he was the smartest man alive. You made up your mind. He was giving you the opportunity and you weren’t going to turn it down. You raised your hand and slapped him hard on the cheek. Spencer whined and his hand flew to his face. He rubbed the red mark that was appearing on his cheekbone but his eyes never left yours. And that stupid grin remained on his face.

“Just out of curiosity, is there anything you do like about me?”

You seriously considered his question. You tried to think of one thing you liked about him. It was harder than you thought. Until you remembered the way his breath hitched when you got near him.

“I like that when you look at me your dick gets hard,” you said calmy, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. “I like that I have the power over you to make you do that.” You traced your fingers over the red spot where your hand hit his cheek. “You might be a genius but you’re still just a man. You have needs.” With your other hand, you lightly touched the bulge in his pants. He swallowed but still his eyes remained locked on yours. “Your mind might be one of the greatest of our time, but your body is just like every other man’s. You say you hate me but your body’s telling me something very different. It’s pathetic.” You pushed him back again so he hit the wall. “I could lower your IQ one hundred points just by fucking you,” you whispered.

“Wanna bet?” Spencer raised an eyebrow.

Without hesitation you slammed your lips onto his. He whimpered as his head hit the wall behind him, but soon he melted into the kiss. You could feel his lips curl upwards against yours. He was fucking smiling. He was enjoying this. That only enraged you more. You pushed yourself away from him and glared at him.

“Come here,” you said, turning around and walking towards your bedroom. You escorted Spencer inside the dimly lit room and turned to face him again. You looked down at the ever-growing bulge in his pants and began unbuckling his belt in silence. He sighed when you pulled down his underwear.

“You know what? I excepted more from you, Doctor Reid,” you said finally, smirking down at his below average sized cock that was now fully exposed to you.

Spencer said nothing, but, for the first time, his eyes drifted away from yours.

“Oh, don’t worry. That’s not a bad thing,” you smiled, wrapping your hand around it. “That just means I can take it for longer.”

You picked up the pace of your hand and Spencer moaned quietly. His head fell to lean on your shoulder and he sucked a spot on your neck. Eventually, you lifted your hand from his dick and began unbuttoning his shirt. When you pulled his shirt off his arms you turned your mouth to his ear and whispered, “I’m going to fuck you dumb.”

You pushed him down onto the bed. He lay there while you undressed, taking in your figure. You climbed on top of him and his hands immediately travelled to your thighs. He stared up at you with that smart ass glint in his eye. He wouldn’t look like that for long.

You didn’t flinch as you lowered yourself onto his dick. Spencer squirmed slightly beneath you, trying his best to stifle a whimper.

“I- I know a ton of other facts about Florida, you know. Not just how many pools there are” he said, his smugness slowly draining from his body as you rode him.

“You won’t know them for long,” you smiled, alternating your pace between fast and slow. Your inconstant rhythm was torturing Spencer.

“It’s state flower is the orange blossom,” he said confidently. “And it’s the flattest US state.”

“Shut up,” you whispered, anger flaring up in you again. You wished you could tear his brain right out of his head.

“It’s also 65,758 square m-miles, making it the 22nd largest s-state,” he continued, his words slowly starting to slur.

You looked down at the egotistical smile that was still plastered on his face, despite his stuttering. “Shut up!” you said, raising your voice. You lifted your hand and slapped him again. Harder this time. The whimper that Spencer had been holding in since you started finally escaped his lips.

And, at last, he shut up. The only noise he made was the occasional whine every time you quickened your pace.

“You masochistic fuck,” you laughed, grabbing his shoulders as your thighs began to burn. “All I had to do was hit you again and you’re reduced to a whimpering mess.”

“Shit,” Spencer breathed. “I- I’m go-.” But he couldn’t even warn you before you felt his cum shoot inside of you.

“Not so smart now, huh Doc?” you said shakily. Your breathing was ragged but that didn’t stop you. It didn’t matter that Spencer was finished. You weren’t.

Spencer didn’t get time to recover from his high as you immediately began to pick up your pace again, grinding harder and harder as his cum seeped out between your legs.

“Why don’t you tell me another fact?” you taunted. He looked as though he couldn’t speak, never mind tell you a fact. “What about an easy one? What’s the population of Florida?” you asked.

“It’s, uh- I don’t-. Fuck, I don’t know,” he stuttered.

“Seems like I won the bet then,” you panted. His hips jerked up and you moaned at the sudden movement. Finally seeing Spencer a pathetic heap below you sent you over the edge. You came without a uttering a word. The sensation caused Spencer to shake beneath you as he came for the second time.

You rolled off him and sighed. Spencer’s chest moved rapidly up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, brushing his hands through his hair.

“What? Are you annoyed that I made you dumb?” you asked, your voice laced with patronization. He rolled his eyes at you and you turned onto your side so your face was close to his.

“You know, you never told me why you hate me,” you said, running your finger down his chest, making his stomach tense.

“It doesn’t matter,” Spencer mumbled, his face flushing slightly.

“Yes it does,” you argued. “I told you, so now you have to tell me.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment before he whispered, barely audibly, “I hate you because… Well, I-.”

“I can’t hear you,” you said, looking at him expectantly.

“I hate you because I’ve wanted you to do that to me since the day I met you,” he blurted out.

You chuckled, grabbing his chin between your finger and thumb. “Well, if you’d told me that when you met me then this could’ve happened a lot sooner.”

“You wanted this to happen?” Spencer asked, a smile forming on the corners of his mouth.

“I wanted to prove you’re not a genius all the time. The sex is just an added bonus,” you explained.

Spencer’s cocky grin appeared back on his face and in an instant you were reminded of how much you detested him.

“Oh, it’s a bonus?” Spencer smirked. “Does that mean you want to do it again?”

You scoffed at his confidence. “I hate you,” you groaned, as you climbed back on top of him, ready to leave him a dumb, pathetic mess once more.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #sub!spencer reid #dom!reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid gifs #criminal minds #smut #smut oneshot #smut fic

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sturnslcver · 5 months ago

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ virulent love (series) ˚.°: ₊˚ ୨

— chris sturniolo x fem reader —

— warnings, drinking, smoking, pills!

a/n: couldn’t figure out what i wanted to do for chris and y/n’s meet cute so it is heavily based off of a real life book i read, but ive already finished the rest of the story/chapters and it is all my own original ideas! enjoy! :)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ˚.°: ₊˚ ୨

i creep up the stairs in search for my brothers apartment door. this place seems more like a historic hotel than an apartment complex, with its expansive columns and marble floors. when arlo said i could stay with him after hearing about another one of moms manic episodes, i had no idea he lived like an actual adult. I thought it’d be more similar to the last time i visited him, right after i graduated from high school, back when he had first started dealing. however, that was four years ago and a two story skimpy complex ago. that’s kind of what i was expecting. i certainly wasn’t anticipating this orderly area in the middle of downtown massachusetts. I spent all of last week packing up everything i own from mom’s house back in florida. luckily, i don’t own much. but after taking a five hundred mile drive alone today, my exhaustion is pretty obvious in my reflection. my hair is in a unsecured knot on top of my head, held together by a pencil, since I couldn't find a hair tie while I was driving. i reach into my purse to find chapstick, hoping to recover my lips before they end up as weary-looking as the rest of me. I pull my phone out of my pocket and open up my messages to arlo.

i can't remember which apartment number he said was his. it’s either 1372 or 1374. maybe it's 1372? i come to a stop at 1372, because there's a guy passed out on the floor of the hallway, leaning against the door to 1374. please don't let it be 1374. i find the message on my phone and cringe. it's 1374. of course it is.

i walk slowly to the door, hoping I don't wake up the guy. his legs are sprawled out in front of him, and he's leaning with his back propped up against arlo’s door. his chin is tucked to his chest, and he's snoring. "excuse me" i say, my voice just above a whisper. he doesn't move. i lift my leg and poke his shoulder with my foot. "i need to get into this apartment." he rustles and then slowly opens his eyes and stares straight ahead at my legs. his eyes meet my knees, and his eyebrows furrow as he slowly leans forward with a deep scowl on his face. he lifts a hand and pokes my knee with his finger, almost as if he's never seen a knee before. he drops his hand, closes his eyes, and falls back asleep against the door. great. arlo won't be back until tomorrow, so i dial his number to see if this guy is someone i should be concerned about. “y/n?" he asks, answering his phone without a hello. "yep," i reply. "made it safe, but i can't get in because there's a drunk guy passed out at your front door." "thirteen seventy four?" he asks. "you sure you're at the right apartment?" "positive." "are you sure he's drunk?" "positive." "weird," he says. "what’s he wearing?" "why do you want to know what he's wearing?" "if he's wearing a yellow shirt and goggles on his head he’s probably the janitor. the janitor in our complex is homeless" this guy isn't wearing any type of goggles, but i can't help but notice that his jeans and black hoodie do fit him very nicely. "no goggles," i say. “can you get past him without waking him up?" "i’d have to move him. he’ll fall inside if I open the door." he’s quiet for a few seconds while he thinks. "go back downstairs and wait in the lobby until someone can let you in" i sigh, because ive been driving for six hours, and going all the way back downstairs is not something I feel like doing right now.

“just stay on the phone with me until I'm inside your apartment" i like my plan a lot better. i balance my phone against my ear with my shoulder and dig inside my purse for the key arlo sent me. i insert it into the lock and begin to open the door, but the drunk guy begins to fall backward with every inch the door opens. he groans, but his eyes don't open again. "it’s too bad he's wasted," i tell arlo. "he’s not bad-looking." "can you just get your ass inside and lock the door so i can hang up." i roll my eyes. i’m hoping things will be different between us now that mom’s in the hospital. she was always turning us against one another. for example, by the time i was eleven, i’d saved up three hundred dollars so that i could finally get a pet hamster. she ended up stealing it and spending it on pills. she told me arlo stole it.

i wrap my purse around my shoulder, but it gets caught on my suitcase handle, so i just let it fall to the floor. i keep my left hand wrapped tightly around the doorknob and hold the door shut so the guy won't fall completely into the apartment. i take my foot and press it against his shoulder, pushing him from the center of the doorway. he doesn't budge. “arlo, he's too heavy. i’m gonna have to hang up so I can use both hands." “no, don't hang up. just put the phone in your pocket, but don't hang up." i look down at the oversized shirt and leggings I have on. “no pockets. you’re going in the bra." arlo laughs as i pull the phone from my ear and shove it inside my bra. i remove the key from the lock and drop it toward my purse, but it misses and falls to the floor. i reach down to grab the drunk guy so I can move him out of the way. “okay" I say, struggling to pull him away from the center of the doorway. "sorry." i somehow manage to prop him up against the doorframe to prevent him from falling into the apartment, and then i push the door open farther and turn to get my things.

something warm wraps around my ankle. i freeze. i look down. “let go!" i yell, kicking at the hand that's gripping my ankle so tightly I'm pretty sure it might bruise. the drunk guy is looking up at me now, and his grip sends me falling backward into the apartment when I try to pull away from him. "i need to get in there” , he mutters, just as my butt meets the floor. he makes an attempt to push the apartment door open with his other hand, and this immediately sends me into panic mode. i pull my legs the rest of the way inside, and his hand comes with me. i use my free leg to kick the door shut, slamming it directly onto his wrist. “fuck!" he yells. he’s trying to pull his hand back into the hallway with him, but my foot is still pressing against the door. i release enough pressure for him to have his hand back, and then i immediately kick the door all the way shut.

i pull myself up and lock the door, the dead bolt, and the chain lock as quickly as i can. as soon as my heart rate begins to calm down, it starts to scream at me. my heart is actually screaming at me. in a deep male voice. It sounds like it's calling my name. arlo. i immediately look down at my chest and pull my phone out of my bra, then bring it up to my ear. "hello!" i wince, then pull the phone several inches from my ear. "i’m fine," i say, out of breath. "i’m inside. i locked the door." “okay" he says, relieved. "you scared me. what the hell happened?" “he was trying to get inside. i locked the door, though." i flip on the living-room light and take no more than three steps inside before i come to a halt. i slowly turn back toward the door after realizing what ive done. “arlo?" i pause. "i left a few things outside that i need. i would just grab them, but the drunk guy is still trying to get in, so there's no way I'm opening the door again. what do i do?” he’s silent for a few seconds. "what did you leave in the hallway?" i don't want to answer him, but i do. "my suitcase...and purse." “why the hell is your purse outside?" "i also left the key on the hallway floor." he doesn't even respond to that one. he just groans. "i’ll call chris and see if he's home yet. give me two minutes." "wait. who’s chris ?" "he lives across the hall. whatever you do, don't open the door again until i call you back." arlo hangs up, and i lean against his front door. i’ve lived in massachusetts all of thirty minutes. my phone rings. i slide my thumb across the screen and answer it.

"hey." "y/n?" "yeah?," i reply, wondering why he always double-checks to see if it's me. he called me, so who else would be answering it who sounds exactly like me? "i called chris." “good. is he gonna help me get my stuff?" "not exactly," arlo says. "i kind of need you to do me a huge favor." my head falls against the door again. i have a feeling the next few months are going to be full of inconvenient favors, since he knows he's doing me a huse one by letting me stay here. "what?" i ask him. "chris kind of needs your help." "the neighbor?" i pause as soon as it clicks, and i close my eyes. "arlo, please don't tell me the guy you called to protect me from the drunk guy is the drunk guy." arlo sighs. "i need you to unlock the door and let him in. let him crash on the couch. i’ll be there first thing in the morning. when he sobers up, he'll know where he is, and he'll go straight home." i shake my head. "what kind of apartment complex is this? should i prepare to be groped by drunk people every time I come home?" long pause. "he groped you?" "groped might be a bit strong. he did grab my ankle, though." arlo lets out a sigh. "just do this for me. call me back when you've got him and all your stuff inside." "fine." i groan, recognizing the worry in his voice.

i hang up on arlo and open the door. the drunk guy falls onto his shoulder, and his cell phone slips from his hand and lands on the floor next to his head. i flip him onto his back and look down at him. he cracks his eyes open and attempts to look up at me, but his eyelids fall shut again. "You're not arlo," he mutters. "no. i’m not. i’m your new neighbor." i lift him by his shoulders and try to get him to sit up, but he doesn't. i don't think he can, actually. how does a person even get this drunk? i grab his hands and pull him inch by inch into the apartment, stopping when he's just far enough inside for me to be able to close the door. i retrieve all of my things from outside the apartment, then shut and lock the front door. i grab a throw pillow from the couch, prop his head up, and roll him onto his side in case he pukes in his sleep. and that's all the help he's getting from me. when he's comfortably asleep in the middle of the living room floor, i leave him there while I look around the apartment.

the living room alone could fit three of the living rooms from arlos last apartment. arlo said he'd be back in the morning, so i’ll leave that to him. normally, i would be nervous about the fact that there's a stranger in the same apartment I'm in, but i have a feeling i don't need to worry. arlo would never ask me to help someone he felt might be a threat to me in any way. which confuses me, because if this is common behavior for chris, i’m surprised arlo asked me to bring him inside.

i head back to the living room to turn out the lights, but when ive rounded the corner, i come to an immediate halt. not only is chris up off the floor, but he's in the kitchen, with his head pressed against his arms and his arms folded on top of the kitchen counter. he’s seated on the edge of a bar stool, and he looks as if he's about to fall off it any second. i can't tell if he's sleeping again or just attempting to recover. "chris?" he doesn't move when i call his name, so i walk toward him and gently lay my hand on his shoulder to shake him awake. the second my fingers squeeze his shoulder, he gasps and sits up straight as if I just woke him from the middle of a dream. or a nightmare. immediately, he slides off the stool and onto very unstable legs. he begins to sway, so i throw his arm over my shoulder and try to walk him out of the kitchen. "come on." he drops his forehead to the side of my head and stumbles along with me, making it even harder to hold him up. we make it to the front of the couch, and i start to peel him off me. "okay, chris. whoever you are. just go to sleep." he falls onto the couch, but he doesn't let go of my shoulders. i fall with him and immediately attempt to pull away. i gently push him back into the couch, yanking my hand away. i lay his pillow down and urge him onto it. "go to sleep, chris," i say gently.

his eyelids are heavy and watering when he drops to the pillow. he grabs my hand and hums. his eyes fall shut again, and he releases a heavy sigh. i stare at him silently, allowing him to keep hold of my hand until he's quiet and still. i pull my hand away from his, but i stay by his side for a few minutes longer. even though he's asleep, he somehow still looks as if he's on edge. his eyebrows are furrowed, and his breathing is sporadic, failing to fall into a peaceful pattern. when he makes another half conscious effort to reach for my hand, i finally give in. i place my cheek on top of our hands and lean into the couch. i fall asleep on the floor next to him.

@sturnsmadison @ryli3sworld @sunnysturniolos @ariologyy @sturncakez @sturnsxplr-25 @nickmillersn1gf

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idesofrevolution · 8 months ago

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The Journey of Dr. Santana Fabrega

There's nothing quite like your bro slobberin' over your sweaty feet while tokin' on a hookah. Let me just tell you- everybody's happy. I'm stoked to be stoned and minty fresh, and he's happy to taste my ripe size 12's. Who isn't the happiest? The folks. Sure, I dropped out of college, sure I started focusing one hundred percent on my art, sure I have a parade of guys out of my little basement lair... but I never got why they had to be such fuckin' buzzkills.

Ever since they joined that church when I was at uni, my parents have been sucked into the Evangelical cult. Not the whole lifting your hands up to Jesus & speaking in tongues sort of church, by the way. Man, they're out there with picket signs at sex clinics, bannin' books at the high school, all that crazy fuckin' Christian Nation bullshit. They're my parents, so I love 'em and whatever. But fuck, those psychos really fucked 'em up. So now, their crusade is "curing" me of my gayness. Didn't really matter that I'm pan, they don't really know the difference. They don't really care about the difference, though. Not straight, not right.

So when they caught me the other day with Sam cleanin' my dick in the basement, it was World War 3. Man, a Nuclear Bomb would have less energy than my mom's hysterical shrieking. It's Florida, so it's nothing the neighbors haven't heard before. But, shit. I thought my eardrums were gonna pop. They stomped off upstairs, bein' all 'we are going to talk about this later, Santiago.' So, I let Sammy finish up, I pulled on some shorts and I went upstairs to face the fire while he snuck out the basement window. Fuck, I wished I were him.

The 'family meeting' went about as well as you'd expect. Threats of burning in hell for all eternity, demands that I find the Lord, etc. Apparently he doesn't like a lot of things about me: my weed, my tattoos, my sexuality, my piercings, my hair for some reason? I don't know man, I just tuned out after a while. What I did catch, though, they were sending me to substance abuse counseling. Couldn't help but laugh, and that sent dad through the fuckin' roof.

"Doctor Fabrega is going to teach you some manners, young man. Make you a Godly man, like you should be." Yada yada yada. He should have known better than to give me the doc's name. After the ass reaming, I made my way back downstairs to the computer. It took five minutes of research to find this Doctor Fabrega. Turns out he's a Christian Therapist, but that wasn't what was most interesting. Down in his specializations, buried beneath substance abuse & cognitive behavioral therapy was a word that caught my eye: licensed Hypnotherapist.

I knew exactly what kind of bullshit they were tryin' to pull on me. But when I was enrolled at U Miami, my major was Psychology. Not only that, but I still happened to have access to the university library. Oops.

I texted Sammy, knowing I was gonna be up all night doing research, and that my dick would need some appropriate attention under the desk. I was gonna show this motherfucker just how sick it really is to be like me.

---

The waiting room was bullshit. Cold white walls, bright wood floors... It looked straight out of an IKEA ad. I'd already been there for like 20 minutes past my appointment time, giving me just enough time to scroll through the last chapter on my phone. I hear the receptionist call out my name, and I head toward the office. Just as bullshit as the waiting room. It's like the guy wants to live in a psych ward- no color anywhere. At least get a blacklight or something.

"Santiago Rivera. Welcome, I'm Dr. Fabrega." The guy was hot as fuck, not gonna lie. Looked like he was straight out of Sao Paulo- even with the fancy suit you can't hide muscle like that. "Please, sit. It's so good to meet you." His voice was so weird. Speaking every word with like, perfect diction. You know those AI voices that talk that way? That's what it was like, as if he were trying so hard to hide an accent underneath.

"Just call me Santi, doc." I plopped down on the leather chair, might have put my feet up on his coffee table (don't recall), and he just looked at me like he was looking in a microscope. No idea what the deal was. He walked over to the couch and sat down with my file and started to drone on.

"Alright, Santi, it says here that your parents are pretty concerned about your behavior lately. You're 23 years old and a college dropout, you take illicit drugs, you have no job, and you're having unnatural thoughts. That's quite the list, bud." He was so fuckin smug, that sort of punchable glibness that only comes from a particular kind of self righteousness. Like Jesus himself came down and kissed them.

"So, first off. I did drop out of college, because I couldn't afford it. Second, I sure the fuck do smoke green because it's a) fun, and b) prescribed to me by my real doctor. Third, I do have a job. I do graphic design and graffiti art and I pay my own bills with it. And last off, yup: I fucked him." He sat there, somehow shocked that I told him how it was right off the bat. I'm not playing his little game, and that made him angry.

"I see. So you have no remorse for any of this? I believe your parents are very right to be concerned about where your life is headed."

"Fascinating, considering I'm moving out at the end of the month and they won't need to deal with my life. So. You married?" He was thrown off by that, just as I'd hoped. Right out of the blue. Knocks them off kilter for a second. An easy question to answer, so they usually do.

"Uh, well, no I'm not married. Is that your concern in all this?" Man, I couldn't help but laugh. He's trying to be sarcastic?

"Where did ya go to school for... whatever this is." This made him close my file, he even put it on the table and crossed his arms.

"I went to Liberty University, top of my class in their Doctor of Psychology program. You, it seems didn't make it that far, so you might not know what 'this' is." Oooh, he's big mad. I thought, let's push it. I did what most of my guys love, but would piss him off, I kicked off the Vans. Made sure I wore my skating shoes that day, the super ripe ones with the same damp socks. When they came off, those puppies let their presence be known.

"Sounds boring. Boring then, boring now. I got accepted into the Art Institute in Savannah, so I'll be headed that way soon. Be legit soon, then you wouldn't have anything to say. How's your sex life?" He thought he was so tough, not flinching at the musk, nor my question. But I knew both hit him right where I wanted. The question to make him mad, the stink to get him hot.

"Santiago, I think we should continue with our session. You can put your shoes back on and we can try some exercises to help you think a bit more clearly." I crossed my ankles, wriggling my toes a bit.

"I think they need some air. Are you gonna try and hypnotize me now? Or is that the last ditch effort when everything else fails?" He leaned back in his seat, the grimace growing stronger. "That stuff is not that hard to master. A couple days really and you got it down."

"Is that so?" He ground his teeth as he spat out his words. "It seems you know all there is to know, then." Time to hit it home.

"You know what, let's put money on it, doc. Hundred bucks says I can put you under." I got him, his eyebrow shifted just enough for me to see.

"This isn't a casino, Santiago. I don't bet money on client's health." I couldn't help but smirk. He left an opening I couldn't pass up.

"Aight, no money then. If I put you under, I get the bragging rights. If I don't, I'll play your stupid games. Win-win for you, nothing to lose but your dignity." Hook, line and sinker; he leaned in, grabbing the remote on the table next to him. He tapped a button, and the shades started to come down.

"Well then, Mr. Rivera. I wish you luck."

The room got dark. Really fuckin' dark. Fabrega hit another button on the remote, and a cool blue washed over the room. Gotta say, tight LED system. I kicked my shoes off the table, and scooted my chair forward. Showtime.

"Alright, Santana, I want you to just take deep breaths." He squirmed at my use of his first name, one last dig before I brain fucked him. He took his deep breaths one at a time, slowly getting deeper and deeper. "As I count down from one to ten, each number will bring you closer and closer to relaxation. Picture a long tunnel, at the end, a bright white light. With every number, you take a step forward to the light, do you understand?"

He nodded, it was an induction I'd made up this morning. I started from 10, telling him his first step he could feel the tingling relaxation in the tips of his fingers, slowly crawling up his hands and forearms. 9. Another step, the tingling creeps up his big muscly arms and shoulders. 8. One more step, the tingling is pushing up his neck and throat, reaching his tongue and teeth. 7. The tingling bursts into his head, a paradoxical rush of relaxation, a fog of dissonance washes over his brain as thoughts collide and crash about. 6. The tingling washes down his spine, flowing through his nerves into every part of his body. His body feels electric, a painless jolt running throughout him. I watched as he tensed up, his big muscles contracting and bunching him up. It was working.

We get to 5, starting at the crown of his head, the volts decrease, turning lugubrious and liquified like molasses sloshing about in his head. 4. The light is so close he can feel the heat, but his body is cooled as the syrupy fluid flows down over him like a waterfall, pooling in his big feet as it fills every crevice. 3. It feels as if he's trudging through mud toward the light, his legs feeling wobbly and gelatinous. 2. So close, his whole body feels like a massless blob, inching toward the final drop into the cavernous light. 1. He crawls toward the ledge, plummeting down into the endless void of bright white light. There, he will sit as I have a little bit of fun.

"Alright, Santana. Can you hear me in there?" Fabrega nods, expressionless. Fuck, that was maybe a 80/20 chance I was gonna fuck this shit up so bad. But I guess God really is on my side here. "Whenever I ask a question, you will answer truthfully. Whatever I say you will incorporate into your life. Now, Santana, what do you do when you're not at work?" His lips moved slowly and replied in monotone.

"I go to the gym, I go to the golf course, I hire my date, and I go home." Ooooh shit. He's giving my friends on the corners a decent living, good for him. Hardly a Godly thing to do. Either way, it was a perfect place to start.

"You love going to the gym, don't you, Santana?" He nodded. "You love gettin' all sweaty don't you?" His head began to shake, his expression furrowing a bit in disgust. "No, Santana. You love getting all sweaty. The feeling of those cool droplets on your hot muscles during a hard workout? Doesn't it feel good?" He pauses, before reluctantly nodding. Ahh I love gettin my fingers in his brain, never ceases to please. "You love that funk that comes off your sweat, Santana. You love sniffin your pits, your big feet, your balls... That musk means you're workin' hard. Keeping in shape. Staying virile. Isn't that right?" He nodded, squirming in the chair. I watched his body try to reject the instructions, try to rebel, but just one repetition had his back to stillness.

"You don't even like golf, do you?" He nodded, I didn't even need to manipulate him. "You much prefer hitting the beach, don't you? Seein' all the guys and gals starin' at your glorious bod... You love it, don't you?" He nodded, the side of his lip curling ever so slightly. "You love bringing out the speedo, letting the goods hang low, letting the buns bulge... you know they all wanna see it anyway..." He nodded again, it was like taking candy from a baby. The guy had the mental fortitude of a frog.

"You like fucking, too. You can have any girl or guy on the street with a single wink." He nodded, and I couldn't help but watch as his groin started to bulge. "Yeah, boy. You love taking that horse cock and plowing it into some ass... plowing it into some pussy... fucking their pretty little mouths..." Drool started to drip from the corner of his lip, and a little wet spot quickly appeared on his pants. "You're a freak, aren't you, Santana? You like fuckin' in the car, in the sauna, at the gym, under the desk... gushing gallons into them while you shove your sneaker on their face." He was moaning, slowly grinding against the open air. Can't lie, I was gropin' myself a bit just watching him.

"Now, Santana. I'm going to bring you back to your office, but when I do, you are going to be super laid back and chill with Santi during your sessions. If he says the word 'sniff' you will return to this space, return to an open mind, just as we have done here today. Do you understand?" He nodded one final time before I began his emergence. Counting back from one to ten, I watched as he slowly came back to the real world, and with one snap, he blinked his eyes and wiped his brow.

"Well, doc. I got the bragging rights." Fabrega pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. Time to see if it had all paid off.

"Uhh... yeah... Santi. You got me there..." Perfect. He pulled his hand away from his nose, clicking the shades back up to their little hole. It didn't take long until he saw the wet patch on his bulbous package. He chuckled under his breath. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Santi... I have hyperspermia, so sometimes it all just flows out." Hot- and totally unprofessional. Just how I like 'em. I leaned back in my chair, smirkin' the whole way.

"Damn, doc. Firehose down there. Gonna have to show me sometime." He smirked and waved me off.

"I don't fraternize with clients, Santi. Oh, look at the time. I'm late for my 5:30. Alright, I'll see you next week." He stood up, extending his hand, his whole demeanor entirely changed. I slipped my Vans back on, spitting on my hand before gripping his. He shuddered a bit, sure. But we were gonna get real close, real quick.

---

The next few days flew by. My folks were so excited to see that I was looking forward to seeing Dr. Fabrega, and I loved knowing what they didn't. I was excited to see if Dr. Fabrega was gonna be Santana. So when I finally got back in for my appointment, I didn't need to wait long at all. Only five minutes and the door swung open, the receptionist completely flustered. The anticipation was killing me. She sat down behind her computer with tunnel vision and I walked into the office.

At first, I thought it was empty. He wasn't sitting at his desk, on the couch... but as I heard huffing from the balcony, I knew where to find him. I walked up to the sliding glass door, and turned outside to see one hell of a sight.

It was Santana. Nothing on but his whitie-tighties and his damp socks doing pushups on the bench. Fuck, those muscles were glistening in the light, his underwear with damp patches on his ass and bulge. His clothes sat in a pile near his head: jeans, a Miami Heat jersey, some sick dunks I wanted to steal... far from the stuffy suit he had on just the week before. He finally noticed me, and smiled.

"Santi! Hey! Just finishing up my lunch workout. Thought I'd get a session in today on the balcony. Damn, the fresh air is good for exercise!" I smirked. It was night and day. So far, gone was the bible thumping hypocrite, and here was what was underneath. If anything I was doing him a service.

"Shit, Santana! You're looking prime today. You gonna funk out our session today, or?" I punched him in the shoulder, and he giggled like a kid.

"It's eau naturale, my friend. Natural water. That's what it smells like." He slipped on his jeans and his big fuckin' sneakers, tossing the jersey over his head while we walked in. He trailed some deliciously ripe musk, and I couldn't help but savor a bit of it. We plopped down on our seats, and just started shootin' shit. I bitched about the parents, he bitched about his receptionist, I told him about Sammy suckin' my dick clean, and he told me about the threesome with a gym bro and his girlfriend. He was coming along beautifully. Though, I thought to myself, how's about a round two?

"Dude, by the way, those kicks are fuckin' tight." I pointed to the dunks, which he smugly kicked up onto the coffee table, showing them off.

"Thanks, man. They're the lifting shoes. My work boots, heh." I reached out, grabbing ahold of his foot, and yanked it off. He chuckled like a fuckin' idiot while I looked at 'em. Size 13, nice and big- and the smell wafting out of there... Fuck, man.

"Damn, dude you never wash your socks? These stink!" I playfully tossed the shoe at him, and just as he started to brush off the comment, I said my magic word. "Sniff it." Like a flipped lightswitch, his expression turned numb, slowly bringing the shoe to his nose and inhaling his own musk. I clapped my hands, rubbing them together: let's do a little more programming.

"Santana, You're a pretty chill guy, you know that?" He nodded. "You smoke, don't you? You know, the good shit?" Deep in his mind, he had to know it was me talking at this point, so I was talking to him like a bro. Establishes trust, ya know? He shook his head no. "Ahh, come on man. You love kickin' back and toking on that reefer after a long workout." Santana chuckled a bit, before nodding, still nose deep in his sneaker. "Yeah, you love smokin' out your bros, your babes... when you're not shootin' tequila!" He full out laughed on that one, nodding along. The sneaker slowly dropped from his hand, and he laid back in his chair.

"How old are you, Santana?"

"28." Shit, he was only a few years older than me. I mean, he looked young. But hell, you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted.

"Where are you from?" "Rio de Janeiro." Interesting. I clocked the accent. I was pretty proud of myself.

"Why do you try so hard to hide it? The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... You act like you're from Ohio." Another chuckle, I should have had a Netflix special. "You're gonna embrace that Brazilian pride, bro. Don't hide it for some mayo drinking buzzkills!" He furrowed his brow, nodding intently. This one was for his own fuckin' good. Be proud of that shit! "You should get some ink to really embrace it. Nothin' sexier than a tatted up stud, am I right?" He nodded again, his bulge once more springing to life. I smirked, simply wanting to know a little something somethin'.

"Do you think Santi is hot?" He sat there for a second, before slowly smiling and nodding. I didn't even need to program that one. Aww, big old himbo. "You're not afraid to let him know, are ya? I mean if you tell his crazy fuckin' parents that he's cured... He wouldn't be your patient anymore... Right?" His bulge twitched again, and he smirked devilishly as he nodded. "You like it when he's all up in your brain, don't you? You like it when he gets his dick deep in there and mind fucks you into a chill, laid back stud. Don't ya?" The dampness grew and his breath got heavy. He nodded, drooling down the sides of his cheeks. "Yeah, you wanna let him in completely, don't ya? Make you like him?" Moans grew, and his thrusting in the air quickened pace. "You wanna be best bros with him, don't ya? Bros with benefits... hangin' out, smokin' weed, hittin' the clubs, swappin' spit... swappin' cum... swappin' subs..." He started fuckin' howl. He was beggin' to splurge. "When I tell you, you will cum. And when you do, everything we talked about will be your truth. Now... Cum."

His eyes opened, still moaning loudly. He gripped onto his jeans, pulling down the waistband and underwear, that big old uncut donkey dick flopping out before shooting his load all over himself. Volley after volley. He wasn't kidding about the hyperspermia: maybe four double shots of his spunk sprayed like a geyser into the air. The 8th Natural Wonder of the World. He laid back and chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head.

"Fuck, brother!" The thickest accent flowed of those lips, deliciously thick. "After today, that'll be down your throat, cara." He pointed at me, hopping to his feet and shoving his python back into his pants. "So, I'll write your discharge papers, it'll get the pais off your back. Act the part until you're out, and just go live." Fuck yeah, we high fived, and I ruffled that sweaty mullet of his. "Hey, come over tonight. I got some friends comin' over... if you and Sammy wanna join." He winked and slapped my back. Damn, I did good.

"I'll be there, man! You save me a round so I can show you how to clean this dick." I groped my bulge, smirking as his bit his lip and winked. I've created a monster.

---

"Ei, sexy! Come get a toke before it's gone!" Such a demanding little bitch, I love him. I slipped his filled condom off my cock, the kinky fucker insisted, and I happily complied. If I'm being real, this psycho has taught me things! I flushed it down the toilet, and swung the bathroom door open to see him lounging on his bed, toking away at the blunt I packed.

"Hey you fuckin' hog, don't you smoke it all!" He chuckled dumbly, reaching over to hand me the blunt, taking the opportunity to snatch my wrist and pull me forward into a kiss. Fuck those lips were so good, pressed against mine or around my cock. "Isn't Carrie coming over soon? You gonna be able to get off so quick?" I pushed away, taking my puff.

"Ahh, plenty to go around, eh?" He groped that musky bulge that I had a feeling Sammy would be huffing later. "Ey, bring me my pants. We can go get a shot before she gets here." Heh, the last month or so crashing with him has been fuckin' sick. The folks think I'm rooming with some guy from the church, when really I'm gooning with my therapist every night in his bed. Savannah is letting me take online courses, I'll have my B.A. in a couple of years, and I'm already getting some gallery hits. Santana is gonna be my armcandy for the opening, and I told him to forget his deodorant. Fuck he’s perfect. But a thought had crept in my head the other day. One last program, one final idea planted in his head... Though, at this point, there was no need to put him under. I'd just ask him.

"Hey, so I gotta go to Georgia to finish up some paperwork at the school. It got me thinking... I'm followin' my dream. What about you?" I tossed him his pants and passed the blunt, taking a deep whiff of those ripe dunks before throwing them his way too.

"I could go back to the practice, though I think the bible thumpers would lose their minds, heh."

"Well... What we did for eachother... What if you did it for others?" I slowly got down to my knees, a smirk crawling across my face. "What if you could help those poor... misguided young men change their lives?" I crawled toward him, spreading his legs wide as I tossed his legs over my shoulders. "Wouldn't that be so... so... fun?" I slowly pulled down his musky briefs, releasing his monstrous cock again, the musky hooded beast slapping me on my cheek. "Then, we could have so... many... new.. friends..." I pulled down his slimy hood and wrapped my lips around his tip. I should have known better. His hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming it down onto his spear, my nose buried in his bush as he thrust back and forth into my mouth.

"Unff... Yeah, brother... Oh yeah... That sounds like a good... unhhhhh... good idea." Grunting, slapping, moaning, slurping... it all rang out in his room, until he gushed another thick load down my throat. "You wanna join me?" And in that moment, I smiled. It was the best idea he'd had yet.

#original #hypnosis #mind control #himbo #bisexual #transformation #male hypnosis #male transformation #stoner #cannabis #musk #footplay #switch #male reprogramming

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everythingne · 1 year ago

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marketing ploy - ln4 / ch4

miami leads to the perfect 'date', sibling love, and a problem. Some things slot together too perfectly to be ignored, for better or for worse.

piastri!oc x lando norris / fake dating, brothers best friend

warnings/notes: alcohol, mentions of sex, mentions of hypothetical sexual situations, mentions of past loss of virginity (they're not whores guys it makes sense in context), mentions of past cheating, a singular kiss, this might be the longest chapter so far ! A lot of character growth here babes.

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—

06 MAY -- MIAMI, FLORIDA↴

“Of all places in Miami, I was not expecting Seaspice.” I laugh as Lando pulls up to the lavish white building. I can hear people laughing, girls in flowy sundresses and guys in their best white button downs loosely hanging by the entrance as soft music pulses from some speakers--or maybe a cars stereo. Lando huffs out of his nose, a small amused grin on his lips as he turns and places a hand behind my seat as he looks through the back window while parking, his head occasionally looking back at the backup camera and mirrors. I never knew watching someone park would be hot. I catch myself staring when he pushes the shifter forward to park and looks over a me, his black tee clinging around his frame, gold chains resting against the thin fabric.

“Max told me it was good.” He shrugs, leaning back against his seat and looking out. We’d agreed that our ‘first date’ dinner had to be good food, and I had tasked him with finding it as long as I could dress him and I got to order the most expensive desert.

“You’re trusting Max Verstappen for good food?” I ask, giving him the most incredulous look as I grab my purse form my lap and my phone from under my thigh--texting Ada that we'd arrived as Lando turns off the car. Once I glance back up, he leans over, tucking a hair behind my ear and minding my piercings as he settles it back into place.

“And Shakira.” He murmurs, eyes looking down at my lips before he clears his throat and leans back, grabbing his waller and getting out of the car. I go to open my door after double checking everything is in my puse, only to have it whacked shut, and then reopened by Lando.

“Lesson one,” he says, offering his hand to me as he places another hand on the edge of the door, “if your boyfriend doesn’t open the door for you, break up.”

I laugh wholeheartedly, taking his hand and letting him hide my body as he pulls me to my feet and makes sure my skirt is covering everything. He takes my hand and lets me step aside so he can close the door, lock his car, and then he starts to bring me along to the main entrance.

“Astrid said she’s not calling paparazzi, but she’s expecting fans to be here. So the good ol’ papas might be lingering too.” He says, sliding his sunglasses up as the Miami sun starts to dip under some of the buildings and illuminates us in a golden glow.

“For the love of everything, Lando, don’t call them papas.” I groan, keeping my hold on his hand tight as we stop at the vacant hostess stand. He turns to me with a loose grin and I wrap myself around his arm as I catch a few lingering eyes, might as well sell this as best I can.

"Papas is better than pap, I think."

"Equally terrible." I hum, lifting a hand to fix one of his necklaces thats coiled as the hostess reappears with a big happy smile on her perfectly white teeth, her long blond hair swept in a runway model-esc fashion in the low breeze.

"Do you have a reservation tonight?" She asks sweetly, "if not, it will be around an hour wait."

"We should have one for Norris? Two." Lando says softly, the woman hums, tapping through an iPad before nodding and grabbing a few things behind the counter.

"Ah, wonderful, you guys will be dining with my favorite server Jett tonight! Come with me!" She guides us to a table in a back corner, right along the water. Lando gets my chair, ever the gentleman, and then sits across from me as the hostess kindly explains the menus and specials, then says our server will be there soon with the complimentary champagne.

"I'm popping the champagne. You don't need to break anything else." I say to Lando as soon as the hostess walks away and he doubles over in laughter. The restaurant is beautiful, candle lit with twinkling fariy lights overhead and I cannot picture Max ever wanting to eat here. Then, I spot some LED panel lights and realize this place is also a club at times and it makes a bit more sense as to why Max might've stopped by.

“Oh hush," he swats at my pointing finger and I laugh, his giggle falls into a gasp as he takes his turn to playfully poke at me, "And rule two, your boyfriend should always pull out your chair."

"Why the rules, may I ask?" I hum, making sure my bag is hooked on the chair as I look out over the water briefly. My hand finding my phone to take a quick picture of the sun on the water, as Lando keeps talking. I set my phone down as he speaks, giving him my full attention in the low lighting.

"Oscar told me you'd never been on a proper date," Jackass, I scowl, of course Oscar dimed me out, but my scowl is covered as Lando waves while he talks, "And that you last dated someone in year nine. So, I made it my personal goal to give you the best date ever. I would've bought you flowers too, if I had the time. Gotta set your standards high."

"You've already bought me flowers." I counter.

"Yeah but, I would buy you flowers everyday if I could. If we weren't traveling so much, you would have fresh flowers every time the old ones started to wilt. That's how it should be. It's like twenty pounds for something so gorgeous that makes anyone happy." He explains, but before I can answer, our waiter is setting down two glasses and wiping condensation off a bottle of champagne.

"Hello, lovebirds!" He smiles, cheerily as he pops the bottle into a towel and pours us our drinks. Him calling us lovebirds make my heart pound and my cheeks flush, I hate how easily it makes me feel giddy to be considered Lando’s girlfriend. Jett recites the menu, the specials, and asks if we want any appetizers. We settle on the steak tartare and the burrata, and as our waiter whisks away to give us time to figure out appetizers, I notice Lando lifting his film camera.

"I was wondering when she was gonna make an appearance." I laugh, and he laughs in turn, holding up the camera and I pose as he snaps a picture.

"I need to learn how to develop them myself." He says as he sets the camera on the edge of the table, and I lean over to pull it further into the table so it won't fall.

"I can teach you, I did a lot of photography in school." I hold up my drink, "cheers, to us, for being Formula 1s hottest not-couple."

Lando raises his drink and grins, "and to us, in general, for making this probably the easiest media stunt ever."

We clink the edges of the glasses together before taking sips. Champagne wasn't my favorite, but I had to admit this went down smooth.

“Do they always do champagne at your table?” I ask as I take another sip, “because this shit is so good I might come back for it.”

“They had some weird package thing?” Lando leans back in his seat as he sets his drink down, “I dunno, Astrid booked it through the owner. I think she told him it was a date or something so they’d bring us special shit. Oh, I meant to ask, how was your birthday?”

Lando settles in his chair, his foot knocking my knee as he leans back and props one leg over the other.

“I was so drunk, I do not remember anything after Oscar and I fell into the pool and after, we had a heart to heart.” I laugh and he laughs in turn, cheeks puffed up in a tiny smile. Fake dating Lando was gonna be easy. The conversation flows through us ordering entrees, for me it was the Lobster Risotto (after much convincing that Lando did not care how much it cost) and then he got Wagyu steak (and I forced him to promise to let me try.)

We were halfway down the bottle of champagne when our server, Jett, came back with waters and our appetizers. The food got absolutely devoured as we talked about the upcoming race, how his season was going, and then I got to the one question I'd been dying to figure out.

"Do you know why they think us dating is going to make people think you and Max hate each other?"

"No clue." He finishes off his glass of water as I pop the last of the tartare in my mouth and hum softly.

"Like, unless they plan for you to like break my heart or something. But then that would make like... Charles, Daniel, Oscar, and Max hate you."

"I don't think I would break your heart, even if they told me to." Lando sighs, running a hand through his front curls, the warm breeze rolling across the now dark marina, "I think I'd rather give them all the money back than do that."

"Me too." I finish off whats probably my ninth glass, feeling the wooze in my arms and my legs.

"This might be a fake relationship..." He says, and I watch his cheeks dust pink as he looks into his champagne, taking the rest of it asif for courage before looking up at me, "I'm gonna treat you how I would treat anyone I've ever loved."

"I'll treat you the same." I say softly, taking his hand over the table, "you've shown me more love than anyone else has."

A smile creeps across his lips, almost like accomplishment, and he squeezes my hand as he leans over to wipe a bit of sauce off the corner of my mouth. I resist the urge to poke my tongue out and lick my lips as he stares at my mouth for a few moments before looking up at me.

"I take it you havent had much expeirence with this? The whole dating thing?"

"I'm not very... open to dating in general. I havent been looking, havent been asked." I pour the rest of the champagne bottle into our glasses, and Lando leans forward.

“Really?” He clearly doesn’t believe me and I laugh.

“Yeah yeah, you probably have girls hanging off your arms in droves. I haven’t had anyone since the guy who took my virginity like…three years ago?”

“There’s years?!” Lando gapes and I feel my cheeks redden as he looks me over, “you’re like—one of the most attractive, most kind and just—one of the best women I’ve ever met! How in the hell have you not had someone try?”

“We’re not all hot Formula one drivers.” I sip my drink, "and I work long hours, I'm always traveling, guys don't want a woman they can't have any hour of the day."

Lando scoffs as if that's the stupidest thing anyone has ever said in their life, "Well, all those men are stupid."

I laugh because I can't agree more.

"Well, I'm too drunk to drive for at least another hour." Lando sets the empty check book on the edge of the table, waiting for Jett to come and whisk it away for his tip. We wave goodbye to the owner, who happily grins as he goes to post the picture of us he'd taken, and Lando stands, offering me his hand as he helps me get organized, "Wanna go sit somewhere and talk?"

"I've run out of things to say, I fear." I laugh as I stand up. He takes my hand with one, and he grins, using his other hand to grab his phone as he walks me to the marina with a tossed thank you over his shoulder I mimic. As we settle on the docks, he pauses and opens his phone.

"One hundred questions to ask your girlfriend." He says, turning to show me the Yahoo page and I laugh in disbelief as he continues to explain, "theres simple ones, deep ones, intimate ones."

"Oh my god, Lando."

"Sexy questions, and ones for 'if you've been dating for like, ever.'" He turns his phone back and a few seconds later the link pops up on my phone, "We should pick a random question from each and ask each other."

When I agree, we find ourselves on the end of one of the docks with a pretty big pontoon boat bobbing besides us. Our legs dangle over the water, making shadows in the dock lights as Lando asks me to pick a random number one to five. I pick four. He asks for a number one to twenty, I pick nine.

"Lights on or off during sex?"

"Wow, starting strong." I burst into drunken giggles and he follows suit, his jacket laying across my shoulders to combat the breeze as we lean into each other for warmth.

"On, usually. Not that I've been fucking that many guys in my life."

"I'm still shocked that a girl as pretty as you doesn't have guys falling at their knees before her." He laments, scrolling through the questions idly as he giggles at a few that we both know are far too inappropriate to ask right now.

"What? You wanna be the first?" I ask and he nods almost too enthusiastically, catching me off guard and making me giggle. I look down at my phone and ask him to pick a number.

His question ends up being from the third section, question fifteen, "Do you like to be complimented?"

"Fuck yeah." He grins as his hand finds mine, fingers interlocking as he looks over at me, "I love compliments. Racing, my looks, my personality, anything. I melt."

I write that down mentally.

My next question is from section two, question eleven, "What would you say to your younger self?"

"I would tell her she's incredible. That... she doesn't have to base her validation off of what other people are doing."

Lando gets section three, question three, "Biggest turn off?"

His answer takes a while, before he murmurs, "My last girlfriend, a fling for only a few days really, only used me for my money."

My last question is section one, question nine, "What ended your last relationship?"

I really don't want to answer it, but I do. For some reason I feel safe enough telling Lando, even if its something I've only admitted to childhood friends

"He cheated on me."

"No way."

"Don't tell Oscar." I sigh, rubbing my thumb along Lando's hand, "I...I've never told Oscar because they're really good friends. But, yeah, he cheated on me for nine months of our twelve month relationship. And... I-I don't know why I was even dating him in the first place."

"Shit, I'm so sorry." Lando says, squeezing my hand and then wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me to his side, "One of the things I've never been able to understand is why people cheat. If you don't like the first person, or you find yourself attracted to someone else, you should just break-up."

"Yeah..." I sigh, leaning into his touch and closing my eyes. Lando sighs heavily, and curls me into his side just letting me stay there for a long while. We say a few more meaningless things, loose jokes, tired attempts at continuing the conversation before we just let the silence hold us in a sort of pause, in that moment, where it's just us.

We end up in his car maybe two hours later, his hand warm on my thigh as he pulls through the Miami streets. I adjust my instagram posts, smiling before setting my phone down as we pull up to a light.

"Oh, by the way, did they tell you about my home race?" Lando asks as one of the songs slowly pulls to a close on the radio and I snort.

"Yeah, we have to kiss on live-fucking-tv." I look over at Lando as he merges into a lane to get in the turn off lane towards the hotel, and he nods, shaking his head with a grin.

"Astrid told me we should 'practice so it's not awkward when you guys kiss for the first time on TV' because god forbid its awkward and their little thing is found out." Lando explains, but halfway through im dying of laughter and hiding my smile behind my hands as I cackle so hard tears are in my eyes.

"I know! I know!" He laughs, pulling to a stop and I look over at him. Theres a moment where our eyes meet, and I want to say something, but my words get caught in my throat. Lando watches me with a soft smile, his hand on my thigh tightening softly as his eyes flicker down to my lips and then back up to my eyes. We fall quiet, and I lean forward in my seat a bit.

"Olivia." He whispers and I bring a hand to his jaw.

"Lando." I mutter back, tracing the edges of his lips with my eyes, before looking back up at his eyes. We both swallow, and I lean in partially, our lips hovering inches away before a truck honks and we snap back into our seats as Lando pulls forward at the light.

It takes maybe thirty seconds for us to fall into awkward laughter. The rest of the car ride is quiet, Lando's hand only moving when he goes to get out of the car. I wait for him to grab my door this time, and he smiles as he opens it, helping me out and handing his keys to the valet.

Lando finally speaks again once he's dropping me off at the hotel room door, "You wanna do a movie cliche?"

"A goodbye kiss?" I say, and he nods, stepping forward to tuck my hair behind my ear before he leans in further and our lips softly meet with a flutter of my eyes shutting. It was delicate, almost like he was afraid to hurt me, and I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs as I step closer and wrap my arms around his neck. My stomach is flipping as his hands find my ribs, then slide lower along my dress to rest on my hip bones as we lean back, lips grazing eachothers before he presses in again. There's an interlock, everything sort of clicking together like it's meant to be, and I feel his fingers dig into my hips and pull me closer.

My back hits the door at one point, his leg between mine as his lips pepper my cheeks, before one final deep, teeth-clashing set of kisses has us finally pull back for space. My breaths are sharp as I slowly lean back from the kiss, him stepping back and fixing my skirt that he'd slightly ruffled up. We stand in silent, eyes met, chests rising sharply as I feel my skin buzzing with excitement. Eventually, my hand bumps the key to the door and I unlock it, pushing it open and turning back to kiss Lando's cheek as I whisper,

"Night, Nori."

I slip into the room, clicking the door shut, leaning back against it and letting out a loud giddy sigh as I bring a hand to my mouth to suppress the sound of the squeal that tries to leave my bursting chest. My skin is alight, my cheeks burning red, my hands shaking and I giggle at the bursting feeling at my chest.

"Had a good date?" Oscar calls and I nearly jump out of my skin, before Oscar laughs hysterically.

"God, fuck you! Give me a warning next time!" I whine, swinging my purse at him, "And yes, I had a very nice date."

"Good." He says softly, looking over at me from the couch before he points to a vase of red roses.

"For you."

I walk over to the bouquet with curiousity, and I'm unsurprised after I read the note attached: 'hope you had as much fun as I, happy belated birthday, my love. - lando'

Another round of giggles makes Oscar smile softly as I hug the bouquet to my chest and close my eyes. Shit. I was so falling for every little thing that Lando was doing.

06 MARCH -- IMESSAGE ↴

06 MARCH -- INSTAGRAM ↴

OLIVIAPIASTRI POSTED A NEW STORY

LANDONORRIS POSTED A NEW STORY

06 MARCH -- TWITTER ↴

f1s.newsoutlet: LANDO AND OLIVIA OUT AT SEASPICE IN MIAMI???

no.rizz4: BRO LANDOS INSTA STORY AND NOW THIS??

mclaritin: SO OLIVIA N LANDO CONFIRMED?

f1reds: norivia or oliss or oliviando or olando?

⤷ horsecarteam: I THOUGHT U WROTE ORLANDOOO LMAOO

oaklynpiastri: AND THIS BITCH DIDNT TELL ME??

⤷ opheliapiastri: girl. get with the program. check the kidastri gc.

06 MARCH -- PHONE CALL BETWEEN OPHELIA AND LANDO ↴

"Hello?"

"Lando."

"Ophelia?"

"Yep."

"Lovely to speak with you."

"Look, I'm drunk, so I'm gonna cut to the chase. I'm sure Ossie's already asked but I need to know what you're doing with my baby sister."

"Hah, uhm. Well, I'm taking her out. All of it's for her. Olivia caught my eye for a while now and I... I don't know. I haven't been able to shake her no matter how hard I've tried. I didn't want to cause an issue with me and Oscar, because I know he's the most important guy in her life and--Oscar's my teammate, so he means a lot to me too."

"Okay..."

"So, I've known her since she started working for Red Bull as head analyst, so what, two years? And ever since the first time I saw her in Red Bull's garage, I just had this pull. I had an opportunity to get closer to her, and I took it, and now we're--kinda dating? Nothing labeled yet. I'm letting her take it at her pace."

"Last question."

"Hit me."

"Promise me you won't break her heart like the last guy?"

"I would rather die than hurt her."

"Good."

#formula one #f1 #formula 1 #ln4 fic #f1 fanfic #lando norris #lando norris x oc #ln4 #lando norris fic #nicole wrote this

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princesscolumbia · 1 year ago

Text

Star Trek Captains, A Review and Categorization

Star Trek is a show about a Neo-military organization that has rank structures, ships, and fights wars, so naturally there's plenty of captains to talk about, but for this post I'll be highlighting specifically the main cast captains, in something resembling chronological order. (But, I mean, this is Star Trek, so even that's kinda up in the air)

Captain Archer

That Guy who had to hand crank the warp engine up-hill both ways in the blinding ion storm. We don't need no stinkin' Prime Directive! Remember The Alamo Pearl Harbor 9/11 Florida! But...uh, maybe don't be dicks about it, not everyone who looks like the ones responsible for that thing we're never going to forget actually wants us dead. Got transformed into an alien, got possessed by another alien, slept with a couple more. Never got pregnant, though (that was his chief engineer)

Scorecard

Ships commanded: 1

Wars started: 0

Wars ended: 3

Times on screen naked: 1

Nazi facilities destroyed: 1

Category: Grampa

Captain Pike

Midlife crisis? What midlife crisis? Everything's fiiiiine. Now eat something, it'll make you feel better. I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed. Number One, don't tell me I can't adopt more kids, I don't care that they're from the future they're mine now. Besides, we've already got a whole ship-full, what's two more?

Scorecard

Ships commanded: 2

Violations of the Temporal Prime Directive: -3 (yes, it's an irrational number, we're talking time travel, people!)

Musical Numbers Participated While On Duty: 3

Hair: Really Great

Category: Dad (or DILF if you swing that way)

Captain Georgiou

You will be captain when you can snatch the stone from my hand.

Scorecard

Ships commanded: 1

Protege's who required a redemption arc: 1

Awesomeness: Transcendent

Category: Gone too soon, also, MILF who can kick your ass

(Edit: Courtesy of @cheer-me-up-scotty for pointing out an oversite on my part)

Captain Burnham

Cosplays as a Vulcan 'cause she's jealous of her adoptive brother. Accurately called an audience-stand-in-self-insert-mary-sue (shut up, Star Trek fandom invented the Mary Sue, it was a term coined by women fans, so shut up!), but by season 2 she actually gets interesting.

Scorecard

Mommy Issues: Has a subscription

Moms: 4

PTSD inducing life events: Like, all of them

Ships commanded: 3

Mutinies led failed: 1

Category: That One Cousin who married surprisingly well and made something of herself in spite of all expectations

Captain Kirk

Golden retriever energy, would be the Useless Bisexual Himbo if he didn't have so much game. Probably smarter than he lets on. Polyamory King and certified Alien Fucker. Boyfriend is a half-space-elf, main sometimes-girlfriend will go on to create the deadliest super-weapon ever built by humans by accident.

Scorecard

Number of Klingon Bounties on his head: [CLASSIFIED]

Number of women he's slept with: [CLASSIFIED]

Nazi regimes toppled: 1

Number of times he should have had a test that determines if you can stick your dick in it that got named after an upstart from that other science fiction show instead: 1

Ships Commanded: 3

Ships He's Stolen: 3

Category: Slut(affectionate)

Captain Kirk (the other one)

Golden Retriever that got left behind when his family moved away and had to lead a ragtag team of a crotchety older dog and a wet cat on a journey...

No, wait, hold on...

Right! That's the one!

Scorecard

Times he should have been kicked out of Starfleet: At least 4

Ships commanded: 3

Ground transport destroyed: 2 (that we know of)

Number of middle fingers given to Admiralty: 2

Category: Bad Boy

Captain Picard

You know that guy who you see going to the library all the time and always seems to have his nose in a book and always seems to be telling people off for breaking the rules and doing dangerous shit? You'd never know it but he used to be That Guy in college who got, like, ALL the girls and is going to be the Hot Grampa that you don't know how he has that much game, but he got it.

Scorecard

Ships lost in the line of duty: 2

Number of times he married and then estranged his best friend's wife who named their son after her dead first husband: 1

Number of toxic omnipotent and omniscient boyfriends who are obsessed with him and spends their spare time playing with ponies: 1

Category: Inexplicable Sexyman

Captain Badass Sisko

The Cool Dad with baggage. He's got game, but he's got priorities as well, and DON'T mess with his son or you won't even exist anymore to regret it. BLM before it was cool. Led a civil rights riot two centuries before he was born. Space Jesus who can make the best jambalaya you've ever had. Fought and won a war, punched a god, then became one.

Scorecard

Civilizations saved: 4

Native Cultures Treated With the Respect They Deserve: Many

Times He Bent the Rules so his CMO could get some nookie from a Cardasian spy plain, simple tailor: The counter broke

Successful black-ops assassinations completed: 1

Category: BAMF

Captain Janeway

THE single most decorated captain in Starfleet history. Successfully dropped the hammer on dozens of petty tyrants, oppressive regimes, roaming mass murderers, and the Borg. What Prime Directive? Your Mom. Also, probably slept with your mom, that's how much she is the Domme-est of Dommes. She told the Borg to use the safe word...and they DID!

Scorecard

Borg Daughters: 1

Times she told the Borg to step off: 3 (or 4...or 5? Honestly, with the time travel shenanigans it's hard to know for sure)

Nazis she's personally shot: 1

Category: Mistress, but it's "Ma'am" to you

Captain Freeman

She's angry AND disappointed! She's just as good as all the other captains in the fleet, and the good ones know it, but all the rest? They see "cali class" and assume all they're good for is the jobs nobody else wants. But jokes on them, because thanks to that attitude her crew are the flippin' Jacks and Jills of all trades and are more capable of fixing AND fucking AND "fucking" shit up than damn near anyone else!

Scorecard

Times the ship has nearly been destroyed but she and her crew got through it: ...uh...how many episodes are there? And then there's the times that get casual mentions that we never get the details on!

Daughters who should probably be captains now if they were at least a LITTLE more respectful and didn't actively try to piss off Admirals: 1

Times the Cerritos has had to be rebuilt to the point it might as well be called "The Ship of Cerritos Problem": At least 4

Category: Your mom...get back here, I'M NOT DONE TALKING TO YOU!

Captain R'El

Cinnamon Roll, just let m'boy into Starfleet! He just wants a home and a family! I'd like to see full-grown captains who can keep up with half of what this Best Boy is capable of!

Scorecard

Number of species his genetic code is made up of: All of 'em. Even the GODDAMN Q!

Number of Janeways he impressed the socks off of: 2

Quality of his Janeway impression: Bad

Number of Ferengi he out-Ferengi'd: 1

Nazis punched: Give him time...

Category: Teenage Boy Who's NOT GOING THROUGH A PHASE, MOM!

Should I do Captains Shaw and Seven? How about Alternate Timeline Tripp or Future Chakotay? (Going too far down that rabbit hole will eventually lead to Imperial Kirk and Captain Spock from the movies.) Let me know in the comments.

Next Post in this series

#captain r'el #dal r'el #captain janeway #captain picard #captain sisko #captain kirk #captain pike #captain archer #captain georgiou #captain burnham #captain freeman #Star Trek Captains - Review and Category

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degendog · 8 months ago

Note

I would love to learn what it means to be a real man

trying to do it alone can be tough and it's so much easier when you just have to do as your told

for starters, seeking out advice on becoming a real man is a solid first step. that shit takes some serious balls. you’ve already started.

becoming a man is about gaining confidence in yourself. don’t make yourself smaller, don’t try to take up less space. be as unapologetically yourself as you want. cis people, and even some fellow trans people, won’t be comfortable with you being confident and secure in yourself, but fuck em. you exist for yourself, not anyone else.

becoming a man is also about presenting in a way that makes you feel powerful and enhances that confidence. if you haven’t tried wearing men’s clothes, get a couple things from a thrift store or hand-me-downs from a friend. try them on, wear them to a store. get a pack of boxers briefs and pin a rolled up sock to the front pouch. that’s your dick now—wear it as much as you can, even outside of boymode.

if you’ve already done all that, make sure the clothes you wear fit your personal style, whatever that may be. punk? jock? guy that works at geek squad? make sure the outside matches the inside.

start manspreading in public. sit with your legs shoulder width apart. it’ll be easier if you’re packing. it’ll be even easier when you start t—you’d be too sensitive to do anything else.

stop giving a shit about your height if you’re below the male average. tons of short guys exist and are hot as fuck because they own it. josh hutcherson is like 5’5 and tons of people think he’s sexy. part of that is because he doesn’t come off as insecure.

apologize less. be polite to people that deserve it, but don’t be subservient. dont apologize for asking questions, don’t apologize for correcting someone, don’t apologize for existing. don’t be afraid to be a bit abrasive, even.

try out more masculine hobbies. you don’t have to abandon any “girly” hobbies you may have—it’s 2024, men can knit. try out woodworking or shooting or fishing or computer building or working on cars or even growing chili peppers. ask your male friends what they do for fun and try it out for yourself. if you have a good relationship with your dad or any other male family member, ask him to teach you. if you don’t have someone irl to teach you something, pick a hobby you’ve always wanted to try out but were too scared to, and watch youtube videos on it. even if you don’t end up loving it, you’ve stepped out of your comfort zone, which is a big accomplishment in itself, and you might’ve even had a nice bonding experience with someone.

look into how to get t, and then do it, if you haven’t already. find a trans clinic in your area, go to planned parenthood if you’re in the states, hell even do diy if you need to. if you’re in an area where it’s unsafe to start t—especially florida jfc—work your ass off to get out of there as soon as possible.

start jacking off and fucking more like a man. stroke your dick instead of rubbing your clit. get a strap on and jerk that off. repeat, “i’m a man” to yourself on every stroke. try pumping your dick. picture yourself topping. actually top. experience your sexuality as something beyond cis society’s expectations for a “woman”—because you never were a woman, so why should you fuck like one?

if you’re scared to do something that’ll help yourself transition, ask yourself “why does this scare me?” and decide if your fears are as big as they seem. many things that seem daunting about transitioning aren’t actually bad, and sometimes end up being fucking awesome.

it’s not going to be easy and it’s definitely not going to be easier than “staying” a woman, but becoming the man you were always meant to be is the best thing you can do for yourself. being able to look in the mirror and like what looks back at you is the greatest feeling in the world. i hope you get there.

#mail #if there’s anything you want specific advice on my ask box is open #you got this man #forcemasc #autoandrophilia #force masc #greatest hits

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nordschleifes · 10 months ago

Text

what happens after midnight?

➝ it was just supposed to be ten months of fun and traveling the world. but you didn't count on your heart going against you

➝ word count: 6,5k

➝ warnings: sugar relationships, hospitals, smut

➝ author's note: finally a finished work!

The watch on your wrist indicated that it was 5:30 PM. Pursing your lips, you watched through the screen set up in hospitality as the blue and pink car pulled into the pits for the second time. The momentary confusion that took over the place was replaced by frustration when the engineer's voice sounded across the room.

— Let's retire the car.

The silence that followed could seem melancholic, even given the context. However, you knew that the man inside the car was biting his tongue, holding back all the words that the frustration of yet another race unfinished that season, on that very day, would make him shout over the radio.

“I’m not a kid to whine, Y/N”, you heard him repeat in your mind, the phrase accompanied by the mischievous smile that made your internal organs turn into jelly. You had no idea what it would be like to live without seeing that smile.

Seeing that he was out of the car, you got up from your desk and silently slipped through the halls of the team facility. Something about that lonely walk made your heart sink even more, until you found the door with his name, the white letters against the navy blue background.

Fernando Alonso.

Your paths crossed months ago. With your student debt growing and the salary you earned during your internship being barely enough to pay your share of the bills for the apartment you lived in with a colleague, you decided to turn to the suggestion of one of your friends, whose life you had given a turning point after registering on a website specializing in sugar relationships.

The first few weeks were unpromising. The guys you had expressed interest in seemed more interested in more pictures of your breasts than in actually talking to you and coming to an agreement. Until, during a break in your shift at the hospital, a suggested profile caught your attention.

The main photo appeared to be professional, taken on the deck of a yacht, and showed a man with dark hair and the shadow of a smile on his face with his arms crossed. The other images were more informal, one taken next to an airplane window and another in the gym, a headband and the bulging veins on his neck indicating that he was exerting himself.

In the profile description, he presented himself as Fernando, a 41-year-old Spaniard looking for someone who could accompany him on his travels in exchange for a generous payment. The idea of getting paid to travel seemed interesting, but it definitely didn't fit with your idea of continuing your studies to become a doctor in Miami.

That night, you ended up not touching the heart on the screen.

However, as fate would have it, at the end of your internship, you did not receive the letter of recommendation that you needed so much to apply for the residency program that you had dreamed of since the beginning of your degree. You were passionate about the field of pediatrics and the idea of working in one of the great children's hospitals in Florida, the Holtz Children's Hospital, were always in your mind.

— Y/N, it is clear that, despite you being an excellent intern, you have been making silly mistakes when filling out the forms and records — your advisor said during your last meeting — Furthermore, the reports are far below what we expect from a student with your ability.

— But, my grades…

— They are sufficient, yes, but the program requires more than grades, Y/N — he said, as he removed his glasses — It requires residents to be in their best shape, both academically and mentally. And it's clear to me that you don't meet the second requirement.

You blinked. Was it so obvious that you were tired?

— So, what should I do? — you asked, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

— I would advise you to try to apply for it next year.

— But, what can I do until then?

— I would recommend that you rest a little before continuing with your plans — he replied, smiling — Maybe learning a new hobby would be good. That or even a trip around the world, who knows.

Leaving your advisor's office with your dreams postponed had been a blow to you. However, his words reminded you of the man who was looking for someone to travel with. Sitting in your car, you searched for his profile and, after a deep sigh, you typed a short message, a simple question.

Still looking for a travel companion?

The answer didn't take long and came in a playful tone.

So obvious?

Well, that's what it says on your profile.

Good to know that you read it.

I thought it was something basic.

You'd be amazed at how many women don't read it before sending a message.

I can't blame them, your photos are much more interesting.

The conversation between you flowed almost naturally. He seemed intelligent, good-natured and, above all, interested in your life and career, asking questions and sharing little details, like the fact that his sister was also a doctor, just like you wanted to be. It was impossible to deny that there was an interesting chemistry between you.

However, this was not a flirting game, but rather, a business deal.

Do you still want to accompany me on my travels?

Well, I wouldn't be answering you if I wasn't interested, would I?

Very funny.

I'm just being honest.

Looking at the three dots flashing on the screen, there was some anticipation building up in your chest.

I like honesty. It's a good quality.

I assume you're honest too.

I am. So much so that I want to do this the right way. Can we meet next week?

Will you be in Miami?

In fact, in New York. But I can take a detour, what do you think?

Perfect.

Your first meeting was at a high-end Japanese restaurant, located on Claughton Island, called NAOE. You even thought you were in the wrong place, since the space was completely empty except for the employees who were preparing the dishes next to the chef, who was wearing a sort of white kimono. However, after identifying yourself, the maître d' confirmed that you were in the right place and asked you to sit at the only table that had been prepared there, conveniently behind a bamboo screen.

Fernando arrived shortly after, making you jump to your feet.

— Good evening, Y/N — he said, before placing a chaste kiss on your cheek — It's a pleasure to finally meet you.

— The pleasure is all mine.

After settling in at the table, the waiter wrote down the drinks you had chosen before returning to the kitchen. However, the request from the man in front of you only made you even more curious.

— Aren't you going to drink anything tonight?

Fernando smiled a little.

— I don’t drink.

— Never?

— Never. After I realized that alcohol wouldn't make me go faster, I chose to give it up — he replied — I don't smoke either, if that's your next question.

—Actually, my next question would be if I can drink in your presence — you smiled.

— As far as I know, we haven't signed anything. You can do whatever you want.

Dinner continued without any of you mentioning the agreement that had made him fly to Miami to see you. However, at the same time as you were eager to settle everything with him, something told you to let him bring up the subject.

— Are you always this quiet? — Fernando asked, as he put down the glass of water.

— No — you said, after swallowing the piece of sushi you were chewing.

— So there's something bothering you.

— No, there isn't.

He stared into your eyes, seeming to read between the lines of your words. Then, he let out a sigh, reaching into his pants’ pocket and taking out his cell phone.

— You want to talk about our agreement, don't you?

— Well, that's what you came here to do, isn't it?

— Actually, my intention was just to enjoy some good Japanese food alongside an interesting woman — Fernando said, while searching for something on the device — But, if you prefer to get straight to the point...

He held out the phone toward you. When you picked it up, you noticed that there was a document on the screen, with the title “Relationship Agreement” in bold letters at the top of it. Something about those words made your stomach churn with tension.

— I asked my lawyer to write a draft to guide our conversation. However, I want to make it clear that there are some topics that are non-negotiable for me…

— Sex? — you asked, raising an eyebrow.

— Confidentiality — Fernando replied — I'm a discreet person when it comes to my personal life and the last thing I want is my face on the cover of gossip magazines.

— So sex is negotiable?

— You're very interested in this topic, aren't you?

— Are you not interested?

A mischievous smile appeared on Fernando's lips.

— No — he replied — It's in the contract, if you want to take a look. Page three, if I'm not mistaken.

You scrolled through the document until you found the section that talked about intimacy, reading it carefully. In the document, sexual relations and any contact that could be classified as such were completely prohibited, as your relationship would be limited to the emotional context.

— This means…

— That I don't want sex from you. I just want your company, guapa.

— And you're going to pay me for this? — you raised an eyebrow.

— Yes, as described in the section on financial support — Fernando replied — The trips will be paid by me, as well as all your expenses while you are accompanying me. I will also give you a monthly allowance to do whatever you want with it.

You looked at his phone again, thoughtfully.

— You'll have an apartment in Monaco too — he murmured, as he ran his index finger along the rim of his glass.

— I will? Why?

— Because I want you around, Y/N. Besides, making you come back here every time will be too exhausting. Believe me, the first time is amazing, but after doing this for 20 years, flying has become the part I hate most about my job.

Pursing your lips, you looked up at the driver.

— And how long would that be valid?

— Until midnight of November 20th.

That's how you agreed to become Fernando's traveling companion, as he preferred to put it. And you could only describe those last few months as “a dream”.

When the door to the small room opened, you jumped up in the chair you were in, waking up suddenly from your daydreams. On the wall, the clock indicated that it was already past 6PM. Walking through the door, Fernando held a white towel in his hand and a bottle of water, keeping his head down. Behind him, Edoardo, his physiotherapist, was saying something in Italian, which he wasn't paying attention to.

— Prepare qui le nostre cose e, dopo la gara, lasceremo tutto alle persone dell'Aston — the driver replied, before raising his head and finding you in front of him. Pursing your lips, you fought your own frustration to be open to accepting his. And today, more than ever, Fernando needed you.

Dropping his things haphazardly on a small table placed next to the door, he walked over to you in silence, allowing you to wrap your arms around him and hug him. The silence that followed made your heart tighten in his chest. It wasn't the end of the season he deserved, quite the opposite.

— What happened? — you asked.

— Water pump — Fernando replied, the irritation evident in his voice — That shitbox…

You let out a sigh, stroking the back of his neck.

— It's okay, Fer. Now it's over.

Lifting his head, the driver looked at you, brushing aside a strand of your hair.

— Yeah. It’s over.

— Are you happy? — you asked in a low voice.

— That it’s over? I think so — Fernando said, while you watched a drop of sweat run down his temple — But, I have the feeling that I could have done it differently.

— Differently?

— I think I waited too long, guapa — he murmured.

— But it's over now. And you will move on, to a new place, with new people.

Fernando smiled a little.

— Yeah, I will.

He walked away from you to change, taking off his overalls and underwear to put on his shorts and blue team shirt. Meanwhile, you approached the table where his things were, such as his cell phone, his pass and the blue cap he had been wearing all day. Taking the accessory, you turned to him, who was sitting in a chair, tying his sneakers.

— Your cap — you said, smiling.

— Is my hair that bad?

You nodded, causing Fernando to laugh before stretching his hand towards you. However, you didn't hand it to him, preferring to push the strands that were on his forehead before positioning the accessory on his head. After arranging the strands at the back, he stood up with a smile.

— Thank you, guapa — the driver said, giving you a kiss on the cheek before heading towards the door and, consequently, the cameras that awaited him. After the door closed, your eyes found the hands of the clock on the wall.

“There’s still a long way to go”, you thought.

Between meetings, photos, goodbyes, welcomes and a long break for dinner, you and Fernando arrived at the double room you shared late at night. However, contrary to what you expected that morning, you didn't feel relief that the marathon was over or anxiety about finally catching your plane back to the United States.

You felt an almost suffocating sadness.

— What time does your flight leave tomorrow? — Fernando asked, settling down on the sofa in the small hall that connected the rooms while you placed your bag on the table in front of the television.

— Eight in the morning, I guess — you murmured, turning your face towards him — Why?

— Not at all, I just — he hesitated for a few seconds, running a hand through his hair — I wanted to know.

— Do you want to take me to the airport?

— Sincerely? No.

The coldness of the response made your throat tighten. Part of you wished he had replied that he wanted to take you to the airport. Part of you wanted him to say that he would like to spend every possible second by your side before you, inevitably, had to follow your own paths, your own destinies, that weren't tied to each other.

— You think it will be easier this way, don't you? — you murmured, trying to hide the pain in your voice.

— No — he replied, his eyes searching yours. You didn't want to look at him, but at the same time, you knew that this could be the last time you would do that — I think, one way or another, it's going to be the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.

The silence in that room was the longest that had ever stretched between you during all those months of coexistence.

— Why would it be?

— It doesn't matter now, Y/N.

You pressed your lips together, feeling something tighten in your throat.

Going back to Miami was the last thing you wanted at that moment. You wanted to be by his side. You wanted to wake up every day to his voice humming some song whose lyrics you didn't understand. You wanted to see the smile on his face every time you commented on an article about pediatrics that you had read.

However, you needed to go back. Those last few months had just been a detour, a break from his monotonous routine. There were people, commitments, a residency whose selection you had passed with flying colors, a lifetime of taking care of children waiting for you to move on.

And moving forward meant leaving Fernando behind.

You didn't notice the moment the first tear ran down your face, nor the second. But you noticed the movement of the driver in front of you, approaching with heavy steps. Placing his hands on your face, his expression was serious, almost dark, contrasting with the heat in his eyes.

— I have to let you go in peace — Fernando said softly, his thumb sliding over one of the tears that was stuck on your cheek.

Your lower lip trembled. You just wish it were all easier.

— Please, Y/N — Fernando continued — Don't ask me to take you to the airport. Don't ask me to say goodbye to you. Don't ask me to see you leaving, because I won't bear seeing you get on a plane without me.

At that moment, you had no idea if you would be able to get on a plane in a few hours. Not without Fernando by your side, carrying his trusty black backpack and making some comment about having a sweatshirt ready for you to wear when you get cold during the flight.

So, you asked the only question your mind was capable of formulating.

— What time is it?

— What?

— What time is it, Fernando? — you repeated, seriously.

Still holding his face, he turned his wrist slightly to look at the hands of the black Richard Mille he was wearing.

— Two past midnight — he murmured — You’re free now.

— No, I'm not free — you replied, bringing your face closer to his.

— But…

— I stopped being free a long time ago, Fernando.

Fernando's expression seemed sad, which made your heart feel heavy inside your chest.

You didn't know how to explain to Fernando that you would never be free again simply because you were completely in love with him. So much so that you hadn't even realized the exact moment it had happened.

Maybe it was the day he saw you reading an article about early childhood nutrition and asked you to explain the impact of cow's milk on babies. Maybe it was the day he took you on his motorbike to a viewpoint so you could watch the sunset over Monaco. Maybe it was the moment he introduced his world to you, describing every detail with enchanting passion. Maybe it was the day you pressed that heart on your cell phone screen, right below his photo.

And no piece of paper could control what your heart felt.

Using whatever courage you had left, you tilted your head and closed your eyes, brushing your lips against his. The touch was delicate and subtle, but enough to fill your chest with an almost unbearable heat. You had thought so much about what that moment would be like, fantasized so much about the different possibilities, imagined so many times what it would be like to be in Fernando's arms, that you felt a little hesitant about continuing.

However, the decision about the direction of that shy kiss was made by the driver. Moving closer to you, he placed your mouth completely against his, hands sliding towards the back of your neck. After a few seconds, he pulled away, panting.

— Y/N…

— Please, Fer.

However, he pulled away from you, pain evident in his green-stained eyes.

— No, Y/N — Fernando said, in a firm tone — Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be for both of us.

— You're the one who's making it difficult — you replied, feeling more tears filling your eyes — I want this...

— But you don't need this — he growled — You need to go back to your city, to your apartment, to your life. And this life has no place for me, just as there is no place for you in mine.

The statement was like a punch in the gut. Taking a step back, the feeling was of having awakened from the best dream of your life to find a true nightmare. Mentally, you questioned everything that had happened so far, from the dinner in Miami to that kiss permeated by your desire for him that had been repressed for so long. “So it was all a lie?”, you thought, as he walked towards his room.

— Fer…

— Goodbye, Y/N — he murmured over his shoulder, before disappearing into the dim light, with the door closing behind him.

Your skin felt cold, even in the residual desert heat that remained inside the suite. It was almost unbelievable that this would be the end of those ten months of smiles, jokes and laughter as the two of you traveled the world. A dry and cruel goodbye, without even looking back.

Walking slowly towards your room, you couldn't help but feel a strange emptiness inside your chest. Dropping down on the mattress anyway, you realized how exhausted you were, both physically, courtesy of the intense pace of a race day, and emotionally, with the mix of completely opposite feelings that made your lower lip tremble.

You felt that it was unfair, that the way you were being discarded by Fernando was cruel, not to mention painful. And the worst part was not being able to understand the reason for that attitude, for that cold look that shattered your heart. However, your rational side soon began to whisper in the back of your mind, condemning you for believing that he could see you beyond who you were from the beginning.

An acquisition. A product. A pretty thing for him to drag around the circuits.

That realization made tears run down your face, anger and sadness spilling out of you and making you sob loudly. You even thought about smothering your crying with the pillow, but you didn't move, allowing it to echo off the walls of the room, until it lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

You woke up to the sound of your cell phone's alarm clock. Rubbing your eyes, you stared at the ceiling for long seconds before finally working up the courage to get up from the bed and move forward.

Exactly as Fernando had asked.

As soon as you arrived in Miami, you decided to buy, with the money you had saved in the last few months, a studio near the beach, in addition to arranging the documentation for your residency at Holtz Children's Hospital, which was about to begin. Watching the fireworks that lit up the sea and announced the arrival of a new year, you promised yourself that the months to come would be better than the previous ones.

And by better, you meant no trips, no adventures and no crazy things.

No looks, no jokes, no laughter.

No men, no athletes, no Fernando.

The first few months passed in a blur. Hospital shifts took up much of your time, and your free time was spent reading articles about intriguing cases and organizing your new place. You didn't even notice spring arriving in the city, much less the anticipation for the great sporting event that the city would host in the following weeks.

You were making your first round of the rooms in the west wing of the hospital when, upon entering a room, you came across a little boy playing with a model of a dark blue Formula 1 car. Swallowing hard, you smiled widely.

— Good morning, Mrs. Melendi.

The boy's mother jumped up from her armchair.

— Good morning, doctor — she replied — Greet her, Omar.

The boy looked up at you.

— Hi.

— Good morning, Omar — you greeted him, placing one of your hands on the guard of his bed — How are you feeling today?

— Well — he replied, returning his attention to the cart.

— He spent the night better, doctor, breathing better. But he is still coughing a lot and complains of chest pain.

Accessing Omar's chart on your iPad, you pursed your lips as you thought. The boy's body should already be fighting harder against the infection in his lungs, but his history of asthma didn't make you so optimistic in this regard. This was one of those cases that would ask for patience, both from you and from the boy's mother.

— Well, the night has already brought a good sign. However, the cough will still persist for a while, as the body is trying to get this fluid out somehow. For now, let's continue with what was prescribed and I'll ask the physiotherapy team to send someone here to do some exercises to speed up the release of this secretion, okay?

— Doctor, does this mean I'll be able to see Checo?

You blinked, trying to process if you had understood correctly.

— Who?

— Checo, the Formula 1 driver! — Omar exclaimed — He's going to race here this week!

The Miami Grand Prix, you had completely forgotten about that.

— Ah, I see — you smiled — Everything will depend on your progress. If you take your medication correctly and undergo rehabilitation, I can try to release you by Friday. What do you think?

The boy agreed to your proposal, seeming excited about the prospect of seeing his idol race. However, as you left the room, you felt completely dazed, the memories of the previous year filling your eyes with tears.

That was a weekend of ups and downs, with a punishment causing Fernando to lose the measly two points he had managed to gain. However, those days had been worth it just for the opportunity to introduce him to your city and see how he was enchanted by every detail.

— Doctor? Are you okay? — someone asked you. Looking to the side, you found one of the nurses looking at you somewhat confused.

— Yes, everything is fine.

— Did something happen to Omar?

— No, he's progressing well — you replied, trying to compose yourself — I'm going to ask the rehabilitation staff to do a respiratory therapy session to speed up the drainage of fluids.

— Is the medication dosage still the same?

— Yes, everything’s the same — you murmured, before continuing your rounds, trying to ignore the memories that had been awakened during the visit to Omar's room. However, the task became more difficult when a notification with a painfully familiar name appeared on your cell phone during one of your breaks.

Hi, how are you?

Staring at the screen in almost disbelief, you took a few seconds to type a response, trying to balance your emotions in a single line.

Hello, Fernando. I'm fine, thanks for asking.

Are you in Miami?

Yes, why?

I found your sweatshirt in my apartment. I wanted to give you back.

The photo that accompanied the message made something turn in your stomach. That was your favorite sweatshirt, the first one you had bought when you entered university, and at that point, you had already come to terms with the fact that it was lost forever.

Oh, do you want me to go take it back?

No, I can give it to you. Where are you?

I'm still in the hospital, you can leave it at reception.

I want to hand it personally to you. I can stop by your place later, what do you think?

You were already regretting your answer as you walked to the entrance of your studio, feeling suffocated by anxiety. However, when you opened the door, it was as if you had come to the surface to breathe again, the familiar warmth spreading through your chest.

In front of you was Fernando. He didn't seem to have changed at all since the last time you had seen him, on that fateful night in Abu Dhabi. With a shy smile on his face, he wore a green shirt with the familiar silver wings of Aston Martin, the team he was racing for that year, as well as a white box in his hands.

“This color makes him even more handsome”, you thought to yourself.

— Hi — the driver said softly.

— Hey.

— Can I enter?

— Yeah, sure — you replied, opening the way for him.

The driver passed you silently, taking in the space you were living in. Seeing him there, in the place you had chosen to recover after the mess that had been that Sunday in Abu Dhabi, was strange, not to say wrong. However, this was definitely not the time to question whether his presence there was appropriate or not.

— Everything’s good? — you asked, trying to start a dialogue with him.

— Yeah, all very well. And with you?

— All good.

— It's yours? — he questioned you, gesturing with his finger to refer to the place.

— Yeah, it's mine. I bought it as soon as I got back here — you replied.

Fernando approached a shelf where there were some photos of the trips you had taken with him. There were images from all over the world, from Japan to Brazil, some with your silhouette highlighted or even his. However, he didn't seem to notice that particular detail, as he pointed to another framed image.

— Sardinia?

— Monaco. It's the beach in front of your apartment.

The silence that stretched between you was long, almost deafening. Crossing your arms, you tried to maintain a neutral expression, trying to focus on anything other than the charming lock that fell across his forehead.

— Do you miss it? — Fernando asked.

— Monaco? Not much, I didn't spend enough time there.

— And me?

You looked away to the apartment door, giggling awkwardly.

— I thought you were coming to give me back my hoodie, not do an interrogation.

— Here's your hoodie — he said, harshly, extending the box towards you — And this isn't an interrogation, Y/N. I just asked a question.

— About how I feel about you — you murmured, taking the box and placing it on your dining table.

— Is it wrong to ask?

— When that question doesn't make any sense, yes, it's wrong — you replied, looking over your shoulder.

— Why?

— Because it's wrong, Fernando.

— That's not an answer, Y/N — he replied — Come on, why doesn't it make sense?

Turning at once, anger rose like a hot wave across the back of your neck.

— Because you just discarded me like I was a fucking defective toy.

Fernando looked at you, seriously.

— You know that's not how I see you.

— No? And when you said you didn't have any space in your life for me? Isn't that discarding?

— Y/N — the driver murmured, running a hand through his hair.

— What? — you growled — Is this the way you show that you like me, that you care about me? Saying you don't want me near you?

You didn't have time to react before he advanced towards you, stopping just inches from your face. Fernando was so close to you that you could feel the heat of his skin, as well as the warm and slightly sweet smell of the cologne he was wearing at that moment. It was different from what he normally wore, but it wasn't all bad.

— Would you rather I forbid you from returning? That I stopped you from realizing your dreams? — he returned — Would you prefer if I locked you in a cage or put a collar around your neck to have you all to myself?

The words were stuck in your throat, your bottom lip trembling.

— I know my place in your life, Y/N. And I can't fight it, I can't fight the fact that I can't go further.

— Can't, or don't want to? — you asked in a low voice.

Fernando stared at you for long seconds, as if he was measuring his own words. Bringing your hands up to his face, you stroked the gray speckled beard you loved so much but had never been able to convince him to keep.

— I can't — he murmured, as his thumbs drew circles on his cheek — Y/N, please...

— But you want it — you stated, your eyes going down to his mouth, where his tongue slid to moisten his own lips — You want me.

— Yes, but…

— Then take what you want. Kiss me, touch me, make me what I was from the beginning, from the moment you looked at me for the first time.

The seconds of silence that stretched after your words seemed endless. Bringing your face closer to his, your nose lightly touched Fernando's, almost as a foreshadowing of what was about to happen.

— Make me yours — you whispered.

The moment his lips touched yours was sublime. Your chest filled with a hot, overwhelming sensation, your hands gripping his face tightly. At that moment, you tried to hold on to that feeling of finally being in the place you always imagined yourself in: in Fernando's arms.

It didn't take long for his tongue to invade your mouth, his hands squeezing your waist and bringing your body closer, as if he wanted you two to become one. And personally, that was your only desire at that moment, as you slid your lips down his neck.

— You've always been a naughty girl, haven't you? — Fernando asked as soon as you nibbled on his ear, your fingers squeezing your skin — So naughty, so beautiful...

Taking a few steps back, the driver escaped from you momentarily, sitting on the gray sofa you had in the living room. With his hands to your shirt, you didn't need any words from him to rip it off your body, your shorts sliding down your legs soon after. Taking in the sight of you completely naked for the first time, an almost boyish gleam appeared in Fernando's eyes.

— You are much more beautiful than I imagined…

— You mean you imagined me naked? — you questioned with a suggestive smile, while positioning your knees next to his legs, straddling his lap.

— It's hard not to imagine when you wore those indecent little pajamas of yours to bed — he murmured, his hands sliding down your thighs, while you supported yourself on his shoulders — That baby blue one was wonderful.

— Do you want me to put it on?

A mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

— Now that I've taken off your clothes, I'm not going to ask you to put them back on — Fernando replied, taking his hand to his face and, with a subtle movement, bringing his lips to his in a delicate, almost careful kiss. It was up to you, after a few seconds, to wrap your arms around his neck and ask for passage to explore his mouth the way you wanted.

Sliding his hands down to your butt, the driver made you stand up, bringing his face to one of your breasts. The soft touch of his tongue made you shudder, your fingers digging into his dark curls as a moan escaped his lips.

— I could hear you moaning all night long — Fernando murmured against your skin, his eyes fixed on yours, getting drunk with the pleasure in your expression — Asking, begging for me, the way I always imagined...

It didn't take long for you to start to feel the arousal become uncomfortable, almost painful. You needed more, much more than just kisses and nibbles on your breasts. Lowering your hips just above the not-so-discreet bulge in his shorts, you looked at Fernando, trying to condense what you wanted into a look full of desire.

Without saying anything, he repositioned you a little back, giving him some space to open the button and zipper of your shorts, sliding them and your underwear down. The movement allowed his dick to be revealed, hard and particularly large, with the veins standing out along its length. Biting your lower lip, you brought your index finger to one of them, following the path from the base to the tip, feeling Fernando's muscles tense.

— What do you think?

Looking up at him, you smiled.

— Good.

—Wasn't that what you imagined?

— It's hard to say, since every time I imagined your dick, it was in my mouth or my pussy.

Bringing a hand to your face, Fernando caressed your cheek.

— You are very naughty.

You chose not to answer, rising again to align your own entrance with his cock. Then, you lowered yourself, feeling him enter inch by inch, settling inside you. Closing your eyes, you allowed a moan to escape your lips, as did Fernando, who grunted against your neck.

After a few seconds, you started to move, testing angles and rhythms, until you found one that you liked. With your hands resting on his shoulders, you alternated between quick vertical movements, followed by slower, deeper thrusts. At that point, her breasts were completely red, marked by Fernando's teeth and hickeys. Marks that you would carry with pride, because it was his mouth and his passion that had done it.

— You're so beautiful — he growled, as his hands roamed over her skin — How could I have been able to let you go...

You couldn't resist the urge to kiss him again, searching for Fernando's lips as if they were the surface and you were looking for air to breathe. In that tangle of arms, hands and fingers, you felt complete. Finally complete.

— I'm going to... Oh my God, Fer, I'm going to cum — you whimpered, as you slid your hips back and forth, rubbing your clit against his pubic bone. Noticing the agony in your expression, he slid his hand until he reached your most sensitive spot. Then, massaging it, he brought you to orgasm, making you let out a loud moan, your muscles shaking and your head lolling back.

Beneath his body, Fernando took a few seconds before reaching his peak, spilling himself inside you with a loud moan, his hands holding your hips tightly to stop your movement.

The silence inside the room wasn't complete due to your heavy breathing. With your forehead pressed against his, your eyes were closed, absorbing that moment and the entire range of feelings that filled your chest with an inexplicable warmth.

— Y/N — Fernando whispered.

— Yeah?

— What now?

You moved your face slightly away from his, analyzing his furrowed eyebrows and anxiety-filled brown eyes. You knew it was impossible to turn around or simply pretend it hadn't happened, especially when you were sure you wanted to do it several more times. But did he want that?

— Well, we have two ways — you started, brushing his bangs away from his forehead — We can classify this as an accident on the road and go back to our lives...

— No, definitely not.

— Or we can stop fooling ourselves and actually live this.

— This? — he raised an eyebrow.

— This. Our relationship — you tried to classify it.

— And by truly living, you mean…

— Without pretending that we don’t have feelings for eachother.

Fernando pressed his lips together, looking away from yours. He was definitely hesitant about taking that step. And you were sure you wouldn't let him leave you there, with that doubt hanging over you.

— Do you want me to come back with you to Europe? — you asked softly, making him look at you again.

— Would you come back?

— If you wanted.

The driver let out a heavy sigh.

— I don't want to ask you this, Y/N.

— Why not?

— Because I don't want you to give up everything for me and my career.

— You talk as if this is the only place in the world where there are hospitals accepting residents — you countered, placing your hands on his cheeks — I'll find a way, Fer. We'll find a way. But I ask you just one thing.

— What?

— Don't leave me here, alone.

Fernando smiled, bringing his face closer to yours.

— Never, guapa.

#fernando alonso fanfic #fernando alonso fic #nordswrites #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #fa #formula 1 fic #formula one fic #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #formula one fanfic

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bringbacktim · 10 months ago

Text

America² part two

It's been a long time coming and I'm so so so sorry for making you guys wait this long , the fanfic writer curse of having the worst luck caught up to me recently. This got wrote in shifts so might not be the same quality throughout. Not edited or proofread. Written whilst I was half asleep most of the time

Word count: 5.5k words

Warnings: smut , unprotected sex (don't do this irl) , face slapping, curse words , use of cock dick pussy etc ,I think that's it

I am so glad this season is over" Oscar said as he had his last bite of food

"Can't wait to just dissappear for winter break" Y/n agreed as logan hummed in agreement

"Are you going back to florida or are you going to do some traveling?" Oscar asked logan

"Yeah are you going to have a fuckboy Winter break like you usually do or did everyone finally realise how awful you are?" Y/n teased

"Haha , I never had any fuckboy winterbreaks but I've heard about how you've been slutted about in past season breaks" logan said only realising after how mean it was and how he shouldn't have said it in such a public setting

"Slutted out? Jesus Sargeant, you almost sound jealous " she laughed knowing she'll definitely get some new dirt on him, already knowing some humiliating kinks he has,when he inevitably either Jack's off on the other side of the hotel wall with his porn way too loudly or when he brings some girl back to the hotel to celebrate the last race of the season

"You wish" he scoffed and rolled his eyes

"Now now children" Oscar said leaning into his role of their mother whenever they insulted each other

"So what are you and lily doing for winter break? Going anywhere nice?"

Y/n asked cutting logan off from his snarky remark

"Hopefully somewhere hot and far away from you two" the Aussie replied getting an "oi" in reply from both of them

"Rude, you love us really" Y/n scoffed

"What like you and logan love each other"

"Yeah! ... wait no " logan said realising Oscar wasn't being nice

"How do they let you drive an f1 car man , they should give you a 5 lap headstart cause is there even a brain up there" she joked knocking on his head and saying "nope hollow" after to which he winced and rubbed his head

"Are you guys coming to the after party?" Oscar asked wanting to party with his friends

"Depends if logan is going" Y/n said

"And how big the place is" logan added

"It's got to fit everyone we work with in so I'd say pretty big, plenty of space to hide from each other or sneak off in a dark corner and do god knows what" he added laughing when their faces contoured in disgust

"Let it go Oscar, we're not gonna fuck before the end of the season, but I will be attending the after party" Y/n said getting her coat and leaving

"God what is her problem?" Logan said watching her walk away ,his eyes definitely didn't graze down to her ass as she angrily stomped away or anything why would you think that .

"Sexual frustration I think" Oscar joked which earned him a punch to the shoulder from the male American who walked off aswell not before calling Oscar a perv

At the hotel they all relaxed for a bit and then started to get slowly ready for the after party. Y/n deciding to blast some fun music not caring about the guy she shared a thin wall with . Obviously a mistake as he came stomping from his room to hers with a scowl on his face as he angrily knocked on her door . Expecting one of her friends she was going to the party with she opened the door in the sports bra and pyjama shorts she put on after her shower discarding her shirt when she heard the knocks

Swinging it open and revealing the last person she ever expected left her with a Shocked expression on her face and an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach about what she was wearing , crossing her arms over her chest to cover the skin there , but that only gave the effect of a push up bra which didn't really help logan trying desperately not to look down there while she complains that he's at her door for literally no reason

"Did you hear me ? I said why are you standing at my door?" She asked snapping her fingers infront of his face

"Oh right, can you turn the music down I can't hear myself think in my room" he said trying to shake the inappropriate thoughts he was having

"Well I cranked the volume up cause you usually jerk it or bring some girl back at this time and I didn't want to hear it, so you're welcome"

"I didn't thank you , and why would I . For creepily knowing when I jerk off ? You probably do it the other side of the wall to me" he accused

"Don't act like oscar didn't tell me about the time you called someone else my name when you came" Y/n said with a smug look

"In my defence i thought you two had the same name"

"I heard her say she her name was valentine, incase you haven't noticed thats nothing like Y/n. Just admit you want us to hate fuck just as much as oscar does"

"Fuck off , just turn the music down" he said walking back to his room *and definitely not thinking of how his hands or dick would feel in between her boobs* god what is with his mind today

It took him longer to get ready than usual thanks to the thoughts he was having , and the bulge in his trousers that wouldn't go down no matter what innocent thought he tried to imagine

He was half dressed in a nice shirt and was trying to put his jeans up his legs before quickly realising the bulge in his boxers was not going to go down and he would have to do something about it

Putting some music on to get him in the mood and so the girl on the other side of the wall that he may or may not be imagining stroking him right now instead of his own hand won't hear his desperate whines

Trying to get this over with so he can go party with his friends , he quickens his pace and starts to slightly flick his wrist in a way that has his head lolling back and leaving him breathless

"Fuck-" he moaned out hoping the music masked it and she wouldn't be able to hear it or the skin against skin

He was delving into his deepest dirtiest fantasies to try for once to bust in under 5 minutes

She was in her room on the other side of the wall being bombarded with questions from Oscar about where logan was, whether he was ready to go or not etc as if she was his babysitter . She tried knocking on his door but got no answer, she knocked on the door that connected the two rooms and again no answer but she could hear music playing so assumed he just couldn't hear her so she opened the door just enough so she could get a peek to make sure he was decent and then was going to knock on the wood

But when she saw him doing the last thing she thought he'd be doing right now , her hand didn't come up to knock on the door as fast as it probably should have, but seeing him head pressed into the pillow eyes closed as his chest heaved with every whine or strangled moan that escaped his mouth the waistband of his boxers down enough to let his cock escape but still keep him covered , his glorious slightly sweaty veiny arms working hard to keep up with the fast pace he had set for himself

Y/n found herself mouth agape stood in his doorway wondering why him moaning was so incredibly hot to her and why her feet were walking closer to the bed

"Y/n" he moaned stopping her in her tracks , especially since his eyes were closed and he definitely wouldn't have heard her walk in due to the music blasting . She wouldn't admit it , but it did make her heart beat a little quicker

She put her palm over her eyes as she turned to music off to make it look like she hadn't been staring , this caused him to sit up quicker than anyone ever has and cover himself with a pillow that was beside him

"Y/n!! What are you doing here?" He asked feeling rather exposed

"Oscar kept asking me about whether you were ready or not and you're door was locked and you didn't hear me knock" she explained palm still firmly over her eyes

"You can take your hand away I'm not doing anything" he said trying to make this less uncomfortable

"Are you sure this isn't a plan to get me to see your dick?" She said trying to fall back into her hating him persona

"Don't act like I didn't feel you staring as you walked in"

"You didn't even know I walked in!" She accused

They hadn't realised Oscar had walked in through the open door until he spoke up

"Nice to see you're ready like I said to be logan" he said scaring both of them

"I'm half way done okay , just let me get my pants on and we can leave"

"Okay do we need to turn around while you put your cock away or what?" Y/n joked half hoping he'd say no

"Woah woah wait , what were you two doing before I walked in ? You were watching him wank weren't you?" Oscar accused the pair infront of him

" Can't believe you'd think so lowly of me , you couldn't pay me to watch that"she said

"Yeah cause you can watch it for free through a crack in my door like the creep you are" logan bit back

"Oh I'm the creep? Who moaned who's name whilst getting off tonight me or you?"

"I mean I didn't hear you getting off but I'd take a chance and say you" he smugly laughed

"There is way too much sexual tension right now and it smells like dick and balls so we'll leave you to get ready and meet us in the hallway" Oscar said before his friends had the chance to fuck infront of him

After they got back to Y/n's room Oscar was bombarding her with questions about logan moaning her name since this wasn't the first time logan had said her name whilst aroused

It was no longer than 10 minutes later when logan met them in the hallway and they were getting in the taxi to go the party

When they got there everyone went their separate ways and found their friends who they would spend most of the night with

Oscar and logan did meet up throughout the night , mostly so Oscar could try and get a confession out of logan not that he ever did , much to Oscar's disappointment . He also spoke to Y/n to see if she would give him any indication that she liked logan romantically but she was nowhere near drunk enough

The party was more boring than they thought it was going to be partly because toto didn't crowd surf that year and partly because neither Y/n nor Logan could stop thinking about what would've happened if Oscar hadn't have walked in . Would she have given him a helping hand , or mouth , would he let her stand and watch him get off to the thought of her , would they do the things he was imagining ? The world may never know what would've happened because of the Australian that bounced in the room

Thanks to the free bar and friends shoving drinks into the sexually frustrated and confused pairs hands the thoughts about each other were kept on the back-burner well atleast until they were both in their hotel rooms one last time before winter break where they could do whatever they wanted while thinking about whoever they wanted

Unfortunately, nothing happened in the club as they couldn't find each other and they had some self respect as to not fuck in the disgusting club bathroom

They thought they were in the clear of not seeing each other until the next season started in three months which meant they could spend that time pretending like they weren't developing feeling for each other , but post season testing slipped both of their minds and they would have to see each other on track one last time that year

They had two days to try and act like they still hated each other , but that was proving difficult as everytime one of them closed their eyes they would relive the scene that happened in his hotel room days before

In post season testing , they let reserve drivers or f2 drivers have the chance to drive an f1 car so logan and Y/n weren't needed until the second half of the day so we're free to watch or just entertain themselves until it was their turn

They mostly stood around in their respective garages going over data or scrolling their phones in their driver rooms

Logan was being hard on himself based on the data from the season and how bad he felt he did , which was a sad sight to see. Y/n was in a similar position as annoyingly enough the Americans finished one after the other in the standings which just gave every reporter and journalist another way to compare the two

Her and oscar did visit the Williams garage so Oscar could try and cheer him up Y/n was only there as she was talking to Oscar as he walked towards the garage , but it was clear he was ticked off and needed to blow off some steam. While Oscar was thinking of how to take his mind off of the had results Y/n was stood daydreaming which didn't really help logan as the last thing he needed was to have her stood infront of her race suit tied around her waist showing her tight fireproofs as she stood there looking pretty . She had to be doing it on purpose he thought

They were meant to be setting up to get logan on track , but George had just crashed his Mercedes and red flagged the session which meant more waiting in the Abu Dhabi sun and the inappropriate thoughts he couldn't get out of his head weren't helping with the heat

What also didn't help was when he saw her get out of her car , ass pushing the limits of her race suit as she gripped the halo , oh how logan wished her fingers were wrapped around something else

When she came and knocked on his driver room door to see if he wanted to go find somewhere to eat while they get the race going again , he thought his head was going to explode from the thoughts he definitely shouldn't be having as he saw her leaning against his door frame asking a polite question that Oscar definitely made her ask . It was the straw that broke the camels back when someone dropped what he assumed was a piece of equipment in the garage making her boobs jiggle as she jumped

He strode over to her as she just looked back confused because he hadn't answered her question but instead pressed a firm kiss to her lips . When he pulled back there was obviously a bewildered look on her face because to kiss her out of the blue is crazy enough but to do it infront of whoever could see them was another level

She pushed him into the room before returning the kiss as his hands slipped to her waist

"What was that for?" She asked not actually caring she thought she'd ask for when Oscar asked her after she told him

"Oscar said I need to let off some steam and I think I've found a perfect way" he laughed as his fingers traced the sliver of skin where her fireproofs separated

"You're so annoying" she whined as he made no move to take any clothing off of her

"Shut it ,we don't have time for foreplay, but you're probably wet enough for me to take you right now" he teased as his fingers trailed down her body and inside the bottom half of what she was wearing as she pulled his clothes over his head and kissed him again tongues fighting

As they made out and stripped , he walked them both to the little sofa in the corner of the room and sat down . As their lips separated she was going ask what position he wanted to do ,but he patted his lap before she could

"Protection?" She asked not fancying getting an sti from the fuckboy of miami

"In my bag , side pocket" he lazily pointed not bothering to get up and get it

As he stroked himself while she went up and got the condom he pinched himself to make sure he wasn't having another dream

When she rolled the condom on and sunk down on him he realised this was better than any dream he'd had because it was actually real

"Fuck" he moaned as he leaned his head back on his hands and watched her ride him hissing as he was almost too big on the way down

"Am I going to do all the work or are you going to help?" She asked trying to catch her breath not bothering to stop moving her hips

He didn't answer and instead just grabbed her hips and gave some rough thrusts before rubbing her clit furiously as she whined in his ear and bit his shoulder to stay quiet as she came on his cock

"Clean yourself up and then you can suck me off before we have to go back to racing" he said knowing there was nothing in his room she could use to clean herself but couldn't bring himself to car

"How charming sargeant" Y/n said in a monotone voice as she pulled her underwear up her legs and just deciding to make a run to the toilet before she gets in the car

"I let you come first , what's more charming than that?" He asked

"Maybe not a half assed fuck before a race" she said getting on her knees infront of the sofa as she took the condom he was wearing off

"Just suck my dick so you can go back to your own drivers room" he said pulling her hair into a makeshift ponytail and dragging her face closer to his cock

She had barely gotten past the head before she could feel her lips stinging from being stretched so wide

"You should see how much of a slut you look like right now" he said forcing her to take more than she ever had before and choked back a gag

When she hollowed her cheeks and took him to the base he swear he was seeing stars , but when she came up for air he wasn't impressed "shit do that again" he said as he slapped her cheek as she looked up at him with those teary eyes that almost made him bust a nut

When she didn't do as he said he slapped her again and again until she obeyed and called her some other derogatory name

"You're drooling all over my fucking lap , you better clean it up after" he said as she let him fuck her mouth as she brought her hand up from its resting place on his thigh to play with his balls

"Not my fault there's no space left in my fucking mouth"

When she moaned around his cock and sent vibrations and tingles up his spine he swore he had never cum so hard or so much but she swallowed every drop

Not much was said between them whilst getting re dressed and trying to make it look like they weren't just fucking . Thankfully the engineers had very loud tools and music playing in the garage

Post season testing went better than expected as both Americans made their way into the top 10 . When Oscar congfatulated both of them they were standing further apart than they usually were and weren't making eye contact , but he assumed they just had another pointless argument

Logan and Y/n spent alot of that night trying to decide whether that was a mistake or whether they wanted to do it again . Y/n made it clear that she wouldn't be just another one of his girls and that he would have to commit to her even if they were just friends with benefits

Logan had been invited on a lads holiday with a few of his friends from back home and oscar , which took up alot of the winter break and meant he had alot of time to think about Y/n and how he wanted their relationship to pan out. He saw alot of couples on this trip and his feeling for her were definitely growing . He liked all the sex they had but also loved the domestic stuff like hearing her talk about her day over the phone or her asking his opinion on what outfit she should wear

Over a very horny facetime call Y/n had mentioned the idea of flying to wherever he was and just fuck until they had made up for all of the lost time

It was a good idea in theory , but trying to book a flight close to Christmas was just as hard as you'd imagine , but that gave logan time to plan how he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend

They had video called every night for the next few weeks until she was flying to wherever he was in the world and they couldn't wait. He was going to just ask her when he met her at the airport as he knew she didn't like big gestures. He just hoped she felt the same

"Logie" she exclaimed as she practically ran towards him hugging him when she met his eyes in the crowd of people

"Don't tell Oscar I borrowed the rental car for this" he laughed as he kissed her temple because her face was hidden in his chest as they continued hugging

"I wouldn't get my boyfriend in trouble on his lads holiday now would I? I'd be a terrible girlfriend if I did" she laughed as he looked at her mouth agape

"You talk in you're sleep , i think it's cute how much detail you put into this" she said as they walked out of the very small airport which she was thankful for as they weren't being mobbed by fans for once

When they got to the hotel the sweet cute couple effect had worn off and they just wanted to well and truly fuck . Logans friends had unfortunately booked an activity for them that he had no idea about so had to leave her all alone is his hotel room no matter how dirty the things she would whisper in his ear in hopes he would stay were

He did manage to leave early as he faked some illness

"Logan?" Y/n questioned as his door unlocked

"Y/n" he said eyes softening as he looked at her laying all comfy on the sofa wearing his clothes

"You took sooo and I couldn't find any WiFi password or the TV remote so I couldn't even watch any porn while you were gone" she said sadly as he sat next to her

"I got back as soon as I could , none of them wanted to let me come back here" he said leaning in and kissing her with such passion

"Don't try and butter me up sargeant , I've been horny for hours thanks to you" she said putting her hands on his shoulders and making sure he knew he was to blame

"If you want some angry sex all you had to do was ask baby" he said leading her to the bedroom

"Fuck me like you're mad at me then " she laughed as she almost tripped over both of their feet

"I saw your burner account comment that on my Instagram by the way" he called her out as he fell back on to the bed and she made her way onto his lap

"Theres no proof that it's me" she said laughing as she ground on his lap

"I just have a feeling" he said his hands coming up to hold her hips

"I just love how riled up you get, you really give it to me"

"So are you going to suck my dick like you're mad at it or are we skipping foreplay" he asked not knowing how much more friction and pressure he could take as she moaned almost angelically in his ear

"Surely you'd be compensating me for making me wait?" She said giving him the eyes

He didn't need to be told twice, laying her down on the bed as he kissed his way down her body as she tried to rid them both of atleast their shirts so she could feel some skin against skin

After he had pulled her sweatpants down her ankles too impatient to take them all the way off and let her kick them off while he rubbed her slit and clit through her underwear enough to make her gasp and her him to just take them off , he pushed them to the side while gathering some slick so he could easily push 2 fingers in just to make her moan at the unexpectedness of two at once and cause he still wanted to tease her with no preparation but going from how wet she was she had definitely either been thinking inappropriately the entire time she was waiting or got off atleast once already

"This all for me?" He asked knowing it was but loved to see her get embarrassed at how wet the thought of him got her

"Shut up" she said very lightly pushing his head as she couldn't reach his shoulder in retaliation before hiding her face in her hands

"Don't worry I think it's hot how much you love the thought of me" he said pinching her clit before replacing his fingers with his tongue while his hand went up to cup her breast over her bra

"If you don't hurry up and make me cum I'm going to knock on someone else's hotel door and see if they'll be able to" she said trying not to break character which is easier said than done when logan sargeant is eating you out as an apology

"Oh fuck don't stop" she threw her head back and kept his hand in place that had made its way into the cup of her bra and was toying with her nipple

"You're all mouth Y/l/n" he laughed as he came up for air face glistening in the lamp light

It only took logan no more than 4 more minutes of the combination of rolling her clit in one of his hands while the other toyed with her nipple and his tongue rapidly ate her out not caring about how much noise the pair were making

"Am I forgiven?" He laughed not bothering to wipe the evidence off of his mouth

"Only if you dick me down in the next 30 seconds" she breathlessly laughed as she pulled him into a sloppy kiss full of teeth and gums not caring about the taste of herself on his tongue or lips

She held his face in her hands as they continued to make out while he made quick of getting his trousers and boxers down his legs and stroking himself quickly before asking if they needed to use any protection as he couldn't remember if he had any left

"Just pull out or pay for a plan b tomorrow" she said putting her faith in his reaction speed

"So all I had to was ask you to be my girlfriend and I'm allowed to hit it raw?" Logan said eyes wide imagining all the times he wished he could go raw

He lined himself up and pushed in slowly while he watched her arms sling around his shoulders as her head lolled back and her back arched as she moaned

When he bottomed out and thought how he'd never get used to how snug her walls were around him his mouth agape as he realised how hard it would be and how much mental strength it would take him to not cum inside her . Especially when she raised her head to look at him and she looked in such a state of bliss as she bit her bottom lip as to not let a moan out from him just being inside her

"God please move" she begged as she tried to get closer to him by putting her legs over his shoulders to gain any friction or just anything but was met with no avail

And who was he to deny her that pleasure , his hips snapping into hers with such force he thanked God that he headboard wasn't near a wall because it would be making a rukus for the person on the other side

He let her lay there eyes closed and head back for a solid three minutes before he stopped thrusting in and had only the tip in which made her look up to figure out why he stopped, not before he cupped the back of her head and forced it to look down to where their bodies met

"You wanted me to fuck you so badly that you flew all the way here and yet you don't have the decency to watch what you begged me for" he scoffed as he resumed thrusting his grip not faltering on her head to make sure she was watching what he was doing

Oh how they hoped no one was around to hear any of this

For the remaining days that they were both staying at the same resort they fucked like rabbits and on evert surface you could imagine , having to have condoms delivered to their hotel rooms as they couldn't stay away from each other for long enough to go buy some

Unfortunately for them , there had been a room switch as two of the boys they were there with had gotten in an argument and didn't want to share a room anymore so polite Oscar swapped and had a room the other side of logans wall , where he heard alot of the facetime calls he had late at night to god knows who and when he was fucking who he thought was some random girl he picked up from the island they were on . He chose not to say anything until he heard room service deliver something to Logans room next door and heard Y/ns voice answer the door and thank the person giving them the food which made him swing the door open and knock on the door ready to demand answers

"Where is she?" Oscar asked

"Who?" Logan replied

"The girl who answered the door two seconds ago"

"Why"

"Because she sounded exactly like Y/n who I told you countless time you'd hate fuck , so where is she?" He said not bothering to beat around the Bush

He had no excuse to get himself out of this one so just pointed in the direction of the bathroom" Don't tell her you heard us she'd be so embarrassed"

Oscar strode over to the bathroom and knocked . No longer than a second later Y/n opened the door sheepishly knowing she'd been caught

"How long have you guys been hiding this from me?"

"Not long , we only became official today,but-"

"How long have you been fucking" he asked not sure if it was an appropriate topic

Y/n looked to logan to see if she could actually tell him how long it'd been . With the nod of his head she mentally tried to remember the first time " post season testing" she said

"Wait, is that why they couldn't find you guys that day?"

"Didn't know they were looking , but yeah I guess"

" I have alot of people to collect bet money from , have you announced anything yet or are you keeping it a secret?" He asked wanting to know when he would get his cash flow

"Were not sure yet , probably going to give it a few months before telling people"

"Thats fair , how long is Y/n staying with you then?"

"I've got like 3 days left before I go back to America and hopefully catch up on a year's worth of sleep" she laughed

"Based from what I've heard from the other side of that wall , you definitely aren't getting any sleep here" he laughed

"Oscar!" She said slapping his chest in embarrassment

#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #logan sargeant #formula 1 x reader #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant smut

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bagopucks · 2 years ago

Text

Q. Hughes - Plus One

✄————————————

Quinn Hughes x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warning(s): Implied smut, little make-out, some seducing, other than that just general fluff

Proofread Once

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“They are just so in love, I remember when we looked at each other like that.”

I had asked Quinn to attend this wedding with me. I thought by the look on his face the day I did ask, that he would have immediately said no.

“It’s just a family wedding, please?”

“I don’t know…” he seemed to contemplate the idea for a while before agreeing. “As long as you don’t leave me alone anywhere.”

It was a promise I could make. We rented a house and flew out to the Florida Keys together on a Monday. After a bit of discussion, Quinn and I decided to turn the wedding weekend into a vacation week. He said he was excited for the time on the beach away from family or friends. Excluding myself of course. We spent the said week finding restaurants to eat at, mini golfing, swimming, watching endless movies, and learning how to mix drinks. By the time Saturday came, Quinn was sitting on the couch opposite of me, massaging my feet in his lap, and telling me how excited he was to meet my family. A contrast to the beginning of the week when he wanted nothing to do with anybody.

“Are you ready yet?” Quinn called from the bottom floor, his voice easily heard from the loft master bedroom we had agreed to share only because this had been the last house that wasn’t booked on the week we needed it. I looked myself over one last time, a short baby blue dress with Birkenstock sandals. I curled my hair and applied a small amount of makeup to avoid sweating it off on the beach during the ceremony. I adjusted the rings on my fingers and fixed my necklace before I heard Quinn making his way up the steps. A nervous smile painted my lips.

When he made it to the top, I turned to look at him. Quinn smiled at me, looked me over, then blushed. I was doing too much of my own looking to even notice the flush in his cheeks. I was far more focused on the curls in his long hair, and the flutter of his lashes.

“You look good.” It was sudden, the way I began to feel as though the room heated up. I clasped my hands together in front of myself and let out a low sigh. “Are you ready now?” He looked impressed with how long it had taken me to get ready.

“Yeah.. sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize. But four hours or one wouldn’t have made much a difference.” He smirked at the confusion on my face. “You’d look beautiful all the same.” Quinn and I were used to complimenting each other, but it felt especially good when I got as dolled up as I had. He held his hand out for me, and I approached slowly to grab it.

“I’m surprised some guy didn’t beat me to this.”

“Correction, you should be surprised I asked you first.” I teased, smiling at the soft laugh that fell from his lips.

“Thought I would have been your first option.” Quinn spoke as he guided me down the steps.

“You technically were, but I know how busy your family is with playoffs going on, and I didn’t want to steal you from all that.”

Quinn glanced back at me. “I’m kinda glad you did.” I hadn’t been expecting his answer.

“Really?”

“My parents- all they ever do is talk about Jack and Luke right now. And I get it. It’s their moment- but it’s nice to have something of my own going on. Ya know?” I squeezed his hand and smiled softly.

“I get it. It sucks when you’re the oldest sibling and the younger ones are doing all the things people expected you to do first.” I liked to think I was a breath of fresh air for Quinn. That our mutual understanding of being oldest siblings was what drew him to me, and he had told me so on multiple occasions.

The drive to the parking lot closest to the beach was a short one. It was rented out and packed full of cars. People were standing around talking, smiling and laughing, jovial as ever. With Quinn’s own family, I knew he would have been just as excited. But I could tell the moment I peeked at him, he was tense.

“Quinny,” I chided.

“What if they don’t like me? Jack says I have an RBF. What if they think I’m judging them?”

“You haven’t met my younger sister yet.” I shook my head. “My family is accustomed to quiet grumpy types.”

“I’m not grumpy.” Quinn turned the car off and turned to me.

“Just a little, Quinner.”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes at me before climbing out of the car. I was swift to follow. We met each other around the trunk of the rental. I straightened Quinn’s tie before I heard the squeal of a child and the little girls arms wrap around my legs from behind.

“She’s here!”

Introducing Quinn to my family was as hot of a mess as it could get. I had to tell each individual person that we weren’t dating, only for them to nod their heads in mocking disbelief when Quinn would rest his hand on my lower back and follow me around like a lost puppy. He did me no favors in convincing anybody we were friends. He did some talking on his own, but introductions and excited conversations ceased when the large group of family and friends of the bride and groom, began down the boardwalk to the beach. Quinn and I remained near the back of the group, and we remained there even when we sat down in the pews. The few people around us turned to speak occasionally, but Quinn and I were in our own little world.

Until it was invaded by the great grandparents of the bride and groom.

“Well don’t you look hot.” I’d met Goldie a handful of times. She was always a bit.. lacking in filter. An old woman still able to walk, and hell I’d bet fifty bucks she could still run too. She was lively and sweet, but headstrong all the same.

“Thank you,” I laughed softly, dragging my hand down the front of my dress, adjusting the low neckline that dipped quite far.

“I remember when I was your age. I loved dressing like that. My husband loved it too.” That brought laughter from the two men seated beside us. I glanced back at Quinn with a knowing smile.

“I used to have one dress in particular, that got him all kinds of riled up. Always wore that one when I wanted something.” Sometimes one could only laugh at the woman’s lack of privacy. Which was what Quinn and I both did.

“Grandma!” The bride’s aunt immediately turned around from the seat in front of us. Goldie looked forward with an innocent expression. “They don’t want to hear that.”

“I was just giving some advice to this lovely girl. I don’t see anything wrong with that.” Goldie defended herself.

“Did she ask for it?” The woman in the row in front of us questioned.

“She didn’t have to. I could tell by the look on her face, she needed it. Her boyfriend could probably use a bit too.”

“Oh- we’re not.. together.” I quickly corrected, tensing at my own words. I always wished we were, but Quinn and I had been strictly friends since the dawn of time.

Goldie eyed us with a blank expression, then scoffed, rolled her eyes, and waved her hand in a dismissive motion. Her silver bracelets clinked.

“You will be.”

The music started, and all conversation quieted, then eventually ceased. I adjusted myself in my seat, my knees pressed into the side of Quinn’s thigh since he sat on the edge of the pew. I was turned toward the isle to see the bridesmaids come down with the groomsmen.

“Look how pretty she is,” I whispered excitedly as the first, mine and the bride’s mutual friend, came down.

“She’s okay.” Quinn mumbled in return. I gently swatted his thigh before my hand came to rest there.

“Don’t be rude.” I countered, though a piece of my confidence was boosted by his response. He told me I looked great today, but he wouldn’t compliment that girl. The one in an exquisite dress, walking down the aisle. Quinn couldn’t possibly have a thing for me…

“She’s beautiful too.” This time, it was spoken in more a coaxing way. My gaze flickered go Quinn while the next woman walked down the aisle. Watching the way his gaze lingered before he looked away. Uninterested, but trying to seem invested.

“She’s not really my type.” I hated how excited I got, and I hated even more so how hard I found it not to smile when his eyes met mine. I hadn’t known I was leaning into his personal space until we both realized how close our faces were. I slowly leaned back and laughed softly.

“Sorry.. I’m just excited.”

“It’s okay.” Quinn rested his hand atop my own and gave a reassuring squeeze. “Weddings are exciting.”

Once the pairs reached the end of the aisle, the new song started, and everybody rose. I gently removed my hand from Quinn’s to rest on his chest, pushing very slightly. He stepped back until his legs were pressed against the pew seat, trying to give me room to see. The moment she passed, I was beaming. One of my best friends, my closest family friend for the longest time. We used to daydream about getting married together. I was elated to see her dream coming true. Marriage was all she’d ever hoped for as a little girl. Her perfect wedding. Perfect husband. Perfect life.

“Wow,” I whispered as I felt Quinn’s arm wrap around my back.

“Why don’t you sit on the outside? So you can see better?” Such a subtle thing, but one I couldn’t help but appreciate immensely. Quinn and I shuffled around one another, and sat down once we were permitted to do so. Then the ceremony began. Quinn draped his arm over the back of the pew, and I found myself leaning into his side as time passed by. Occasionally he’d whisper something to me. Point something out or make a quiet joke that only the two of us understood. We’d giggle quietly and share eye contact, then giggle some more. At one point I started gently pulling sideways on his tie to make it crooked. He’d readjust it and roll his eyes. Then, eventually, he gave up with my antics and grabbed my other hand to keep it still. Quinn was never as grumpy as people made him out to be. It simply took the right type of person to make him happy and content.

When the ceremony ended, the chaos began once again. Quinn and I tried to avoid it for the most part, content to sit and watch everybody talk and laugh, and take their turns congratulating the bride and groom. I would do so at some point, but I was in no rush when there was one hell of a reception following.

We spoke with a few others, then Quinn and I slipped away to go back to our car. I was too excited to notice the way I grabbed Quinn’s hand and dragged him back to the boardwalk. He didn’t seem to mind anyhow.

“I loved that dress on her- god she was so beautiful, Quinn.” I babbled on, and he listened with a smile on his face.

“What kind of dress do you want?” His question caught me off guard, and my head swiftly snapped in his direction.

“What?”

“When you get married,” he explained. “What dress do you want to wear?”

“Oh god Quinn. I have so many things- something that flows- but preferably something I can pin up so I don’t step on the skirt at my reception. And I want a top with lace sleeves- or no sleeves at all.”

“Backless?” He cut in.

“Backless, for sure.” I agreed as we made it back to the car. Quinn opened my door for me, and I thanked him before slipping into the vehicle. We waited to leave until most others began to do so. We followed the bulk of the wedding traffic to the reception venue. A big shoreside building that had indoor and outdoor seating, a beautiful view of the ocean, and all the drinks one could want.

When we arrived, Quinn and I gave our names to the hostess and found our seats. The tables were round, decorated in white lace tablecloths. Each seat was accompanied by an empty plate and an upside down champagne glass, as well as a notecard with one’s name and a thank you note written on it. The lights were dim, the music turned on low.

“I’m starving.” Quinn muttered, and I could only laugh at how much he sounded like Jack. Even Luke. Those boys were always hungry.

“Patience.” I reminded. Thankfully, Quinn didn’t need too much of that. The bridal party came in, soon the bride and groom followed. A round of applause and cheering took place before everyone was seated and tables were called left and right to be served. Quinn and I found relief in knowing we were sat at a table with Goldie and her husband Frank. I was even more so relieved to know Quinn enjoyed their presences. That RBF he spoke of was nowhere in sight the moment Frank struck up a conversation with him.

The food was eaten, speeches spoken, cake cut. The main traditional festivities were long forgotten once the dance floor was opened up and people really began to party. Goldie dragged Frank off to the dance floor, and Quinn and I were left in a fit of laughter at the sight of his helpless expression.

Quinn wouldn’t say it, but there was a look of familiarity on his face. I was always dragging him around like that. And no matter how hard he tried to act like he hated it, he loved it.

“I’m gonna go get a refill on this champagne. Did you want anything from the bar?” I asked as I rested my hand on Quinn’s back. He shook his head and smiled at me.

“Just don’t leave me alone too long.”

“I’ll be back soon, I promise.” I reached out to ruffle his hair before reminding myself he spent far too long on it in the bathroom for me to put his hour of work to waste. So I withdrew my hand and laughed softly, taking my glass and waltzing off to the bar. The woman there was kind, striking up a conversation that lasted well after she finished pouring me a fresh glass of champagne. She asked of my relation to the bride, how I was enjoying the party, if the wedding went well.

By the time we finished speaking, I had to fight my way back through the standing crowd to find Quinn. He hadn’t moved an inch, but my brow furrowed the second I spotted the distress on his face.

“Quinn!” I called, catching his attention as I arrived at the table. He turned his phone off and set it face down on the surface. I didn’t know which question to ask first. Is he okay? Did something happen? Was his family alright? “You look tense.” I decided not to ask a question at all.

“I’m fine.” He dismissed my statement with one of his own. I shook my head.

“Open up, Quinn. What’s going on?” I set my glass down and turned my seat to face his own before I sat down. Quinn let out a quiet sigh and shrugged.

“My mom texted. Said the Devils lost tonight. It’s their third game in a row now. One more and they’re out.”

“I see.”

“Jack’s gonna be devastated.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, rubbing his face as if it might erase the stress. Stress that wasn’t even his own.

“Quinn.” I caught his attention. “You don’t have to carry the weight on your brother’s shoulders all the time. I understand you want to be there, but- sometimes it’s okay to not worry about it.” I reached out to wrap my hand around his wrist. “How many times did you clean his boo-boos?”

“Too many.”

“And how many times did you sit with him until he fell asleep? Because there was a monster under his bed.”

“A lot.”

“You were there for him when USA didn’t win gold. You were there for him when his first girlfriend broke his heart. Hell, you were there for most of his rookie year. Quinn, you throw away all of your time for your brothers. I know you do it out of choice.. and you’re the most selfless person I know, but please.. just this once. Worry about it later.” I searched his eyes for any indication that he’d give in. Throw in the towel and have a good time. A piece of me expected him not to, especially when he sighed and picked up his phone. But then he turned it off. Then he set it back down, and reached for my hand.

“Come dance with me.” Then I realized, I finally convinced Quinn Hughes, to just forget about it. Jack probably wouldn’t even call for a while anyway. He’d have Luke. He’d have his team to lean on. Quinn’s number would hopefully be the last on his list of lifelines.

“You’re supposed to ask, not demand.” I slipped my hand into his own and we stood up.

“I’ll ask when we get outside.”

“Outside?”

“The sun is setting, there’s barely anyone out there, and enough space to dance without feeling squeezed in with everybody else.” Quinn explained as his gaze drifted toward the large windows of the venue. “Don’t make me stand around all those people.” He pleaded, and I giggled at the antisocial behavior I was used to seeing from him.

“Alright, weirdo.” I let him drag me off, swiping up my glass of champagne before I got too far from it. Quinn led me outside, past the propped open doors, and found a clear space for the two of us to dance. Only when he glanced back at me, did he wrinkle his nose at my occupied hand- holding my champagne.

“Dude,” there was a playful yet judgmental tone in his voice.

“You haven’t even tried it.” I held the glass out.

“Cuz I don’t wanna be drunk tonight.” He smiled, scoffing.

“How’s come?” I taunted.

“Because I wanna remember all of this. I wanna be completely sober, so I can remember the way you look. Right here… right in front of me, in that beautiful dress, and with the most beautiful smile, and those beautiful eyes.” I was speechless, my breath caught somewhere in my throat as a wide smile parted my lips. It almost hurt my cheeks.

“Okay well..” I paused. “Tipsy isn’t drunk.” Was I avoiding the compliments? The flirting? Possibly.

“Tipsy is still hazy.” Quinn argued as he rested his hands on my hips. “And I’d never want a single memory of you to be hazy.”

I placed my free hand on his shoulder, smiling uncontrollably at his words. The Hughes brothers may have sounded like men of few words when it came to the media, but Quinn certainly had a way with his.

“Quintin Hughes,” I turned my head to the side, resting my cheek against his chest. Quinn set the pace as he slowly began to sway, my body following suit within his hold. “Where’d this come from?”

“Years of loving you.” The words were spoken so softly that I had completely missed them. I squeezed his shoulder.

“Speak up, Q.”

“I love you.” The initial shock left me silent. His grip on my hips tightened. In anticipation, fear of rejection, hope and relief. I slowly lifted my head, looking up at him in wonder. My hand slid from his shoulder toward the back of his neck. A nervous smile formed on Quinn’s lips.

“Sorry,” he laughed out awkwardly. I shook my head in disapproval for his apology.

“No. No, Quinn please don’t take that back.” I set my glass of champagne aside on the nearest table. “I’ve waited forever to hear you say that, please don’t take it back now.” I wrapped my other arm around his shoulders. His smile eased into a genuine one. Our hearts beat quickly, our embrace tightened, bodies impossibly close, pressed to one another. As if the thought of parting would simply kill us.

“I won’t, then.” Quinn dipped his head toward my own. Our noses brushed, causing quiet bouts of laughter to erupt from lips that locked within seconds. Laughter silenced, though it was impossible to remain lip-locked for long when we could barely contain our smiles.

“You’re gonna make me look like a liar,” I whispered against his lips.

“Cause you kept telling everybody we weren’t dating?” Quinn pulled back only slightly, to look me in the eyes.

“Yeah.” I laughed softly.

“Technically we’re still not dating.” His smile was contagious, but not quite as enjoyable as kissing him. I moved my hands to hold his face, guiding his lips back to my own. I never would have guessed it would take a week alone with him to get him to open up, nor would I have guessed Quinn ever would have liked me. We took our time before pulling back, sighing before drawing in our own breaths of air. Quinn reached out to push a few locks of hair from my face, tucking it securely behind my ear.

“Two days.” He thought aloud.

“Two days?”

“Until I have to take you back.” He clarified. “Two days until we’re apart for two weeks.”

“It’s just two weeks, Quinner.” I assured.

“Then we have the lake house.” He reminded both himself and me.

“The lake house, and I’m coming back to Michigan with you. Don’t forget.”

“Do you have to go to Europe?”

“I already told my girlfriends I would.” I laughed, running my thumbs over his cheekbones. “You’ll be fine for two weeks.”

“Two weeks with Luke- maybe Jack.. and my parents. They’ll drive me insane.”

“You act like your family is unbearable.” I wrapped my arms around Quinn’s shoulders again.

“They’re okay,” he joked with a shrug. I laughed and leaned forward to kiss his jaw. “I’ll be counting the days too. But let’s focus on these two days, yeah?”

“Movie night tonight?” He asked, his hands drifting past my lips to wrap around my back.

“You just confessed your love to me, and you wanna watch movies?” I whispered with an amused smile.

“Did you have something else in mind?” I could tell by the look in his eyes, that he caught on. He was merely playing hard to get.

“Take me home and find out.” Quinn’s smile widened before he stepped away and held his hand out for my own.

“Now?” He asked.

“Now.” I clarified.

“Come on.” He urged, his excitement unmatched. I grabbed his hand, and we practically rushed through the building to get our personal belongings. Quinn draped his suit jacket over my shoulders, held my clutch for me, and out the doors we went.

We made occasional conversation on the drive back to our house, but we were far too focused on what was to come, to be truly invested in a discussion. When we got to the house, Quinn told me not to get out of the car. Confused by his words, but deciding to trust him, I sat patiently while he got out and ran around the hood of the car. If only I’d taken a video of how funny he looked.

My smile practically reached my ears when he opened my car door and held his arms out.

We weren’t the newlyweds, but I still let him carry me like a princess to the front door. I was on key duty, unlocking and opening the door so he could carry me inside. He kicked the door shut behind us, and I shuttered when I felt his lips on my neck.

“Quinn,” his name fell from my lips in surprise, want laced in my tone.

“I’m gonna set you down.” He whispered in warning before he gently placed my feet on the ground. He kicked his shoes off by the door, and knelt down to undo the buckles of my sandals. His hair was finally fair game, so I leaned forward and ran my hands through it while he slipped off my first shoe. Quinn pressed a kiss to the inside of my thigh, and my grip on his hair tightened momentarily, before he worked on the second shoe.

“Hurry up,” I urged just as he slipped my second shoe off. He trailed lazy kisses up my leg, stopping at the hem of my skirt before he stood up, quiet chuckles falling from both our lips when his nose got caught on the fabric of my skirt, pulling it up only slightly before I had fixed the fabric and leaned into his grip. His hands found my hips, and his lips- they certainly found mine as well. Quinn’s hands slipped down my back, nipping at my lip. When his hands found the bottom of his suit jacket, he tugged it off and let it hit the floor, one of the buttons clacking against the hard wood. I pulled away before his wandering hands could get anywhere else.

“Come on,” Quinn groaned out. I stood just out of reach, a challenging smirk on my lips. It took him a second to catch on, but when he did, he reached for me. I stepped out of his reach again, and soon it became a game of chase. An effective way to lead him up the steps toward the loft bedroom. Quinn’s hand grazed my ankle toward the last step, and a worried shout fell from my lips before I got up and out of his reach again. I heard him mumble a, ‘Damnit.’ But he hadn’t anticipated my immediate halt, and our bodies collided. He held onto me tightly, assuring myself and himself that I wouldn’t fall.

“Finally.” Quinn smirked, and I began to laugh when his lips found my neck. “Stop that,” he whispered against my skin.

“A little ticklish I guess.” I whispered, surprised by his actions once again when I heard the zipper of my dress being undone. He was good at this. I rested my hands against Quinn’s chest and slowly pushed him back. My dress looked much looser with the zipper undone, but it was the last thing I was worried about. I reached for the buttons on Quinn’s shirt, making quick work of them and pulling the white dress shirt out from his pants. I was too focused to notice the way he was staring at me until my gaze flickered up to meet his own. I had just begun to slip the shirt from his shoulders when I took note of the look in his eyes.

“What?” I paused my movements, my hands resting on the edges of his shoulders.

“Nothin’. You just look so beautiful.” I nodded and silently continued to push his shirt off.

“Take me to bed, Hughes.” I gave in, a gasp leaving my lips when he hoisted me up by my hips and walked me over to the bed. He was gentle when he set me down, and even gentler when he laid me out, leaning over me and kissing me once again.

“You got it, beautiful.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #jack hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #quinn hughes blurb

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ominous-feychild · 23 days ago

Text

Hi, guys. It's me, Barlowe.

No fun aesthetics, none of that. We're addressing the election today.

I never thought I'd be political on my blog—and, in fact, avoided it except for where I really wanted to get things out to everyone, like Project 2025—but circumstances have forced me to step up.

For those who want to see my actual Writeblr intro, you can find it here. This post is getting pinned to my blog for a while.

So, hi. Barlowe here.

I'm an autistic lesbian with health issues I'm too poor to treat.

I'm currently in a relationship with a Mexican-American woman.

My older sister, although we don't really get along, is trans.

I do not care about my relationship with her. What matters is that she is in legitimate danger. Because of the results of the election.

My girlfriend? She's in danger, too. She had people yell and spit at and shove her during Trump's first term, and she had little to nobody she could turn to for help. Like me, she's chock-full of struggles and disabilities. So much so that I almost want to say she's had it even worse than me in that regard.

But I won't be comparing struggles here; that's not the point.

My little sister is still a teenager. She lives in Florida.

As a 13-year-old, she had people call her a slut for wearing a tank top.

A tank top.

It's Florida. It's hot.

She was 13.

Do you know the amount of rage I felt when I heard that?

I'm a nonviolent af grown-ass adult and I wanted to track down those kids to beat them tf up. I wanted to teach them a lesson to never treat my little sister like that again.

But they aren't the source of the problem, do you know that?

The source of the problem is their parents. The media. The internet, and echo chambers full of disgusting, sexist pigs who reduce women—and girls—to nothing more than sex objects for men.

“Grab 'em by the pussy.”

Did we all forget that?

Did we all forget how disgusting that pathetic excuse for a man is?

Did we ignore all of his crimes, all of the things he's done?

Why? Because Harris is a black woman? Because she's mixed? Because she's flawed? Because she didn't deserve to win?

Listen to me.

That's not good enough.

Maybe she didn't deserve to win. But do you know what?

Nor did Trump.

Trump deserves to be IN JAIL.

He's racist, he's xenophobic, he's sexist, a rapist, a homophobe, a convicted felon, and so, so much more.

And yet here we are.

How did millions of people vote a man like that into office?

I would've gone running for the hills at just ONE of those things?

... but that's not the point.

We're here now, except... things aren't quite as clear-cut as we've been led to believe.

There's an interesting saying that goes something like:

“People most often expect from others what they know of themselves.”

And what did Trump most love screaming at the hills?

That the votes of 2020 were rigged.

And he said to “find votes”.

Well, it looks like he found them.

Or, at the very least, he's gotten rid of Democratic ones.

There were bomb threats called in on democratic-leaning polling locations, machines “didn't recognize” ballots, democratic ballots were rejected for inane reasons, and ballots were burned.

Do you think a man so obsessed with so-called “rigging” wouldn't engage in it himself? Whether he truly believed it or not—which, it's been proven that he didn't, and only claimed so to rile up his cultish followers, causing January 6th—who's to say he wouldn't do it himself to “even out the playing field” so to speak? Who's to say a man like him wouldn't claim election fraud 4 years in advance just to pull the wool over all of our collective eyes later?

I'm not saying that he hasn't won.

But I am saying it's not goddamn over.

There's petitions you can sign demanding for recounts [EDIT: THEY DELETED THE LAST ONE!!!! THIS IS A REPLACEMENT!!!]. You can contact Harris to beg her to not take this lying down. You can—and SHOULD—contact the White House directly.

Listen to me.

Check out Project 2025.

My sweet, lovely girlfriend has been shoved and verbally abused—harassed into literal agoraphobia that she's already slipping back into just because of the election's results—by people who ate up the hateful rhetoric of the Right.

She lives in a Blue State.

Even while my trans sister was male-presenting, she was treated differently—coldly—before she cut her hair short again. Suddenly, people would smile at her on the streets again.

She's since started transitioning, and what about now?

My little sister was physically bullied while she lived in Texas.

They, too, are lucky I was never around for that.

Now, in Florida, I doubt she fares much better.

My friend, who's a teacher in Texas, has been forced to publish under a pseudonym and try their complete and utter best to hide their writing so they're not fired for her job. Why?

Because the MC's nonbinary.

My friend is terrified for their son, growing up in a world like this. They're terrified to have another kid—which they want—because 'what if it's a daughter?' They don't want to bring a girl into a world like this.

And they don't want to risk a pregnancy that can end their life.

People all across the states are being forced to give birth to the children of their rapists... or die because of complications in the womb.

Babies are being forced to die slowly in the womb rather than humanely, through “abortion”, after it's clear they're dying, but “still have a heartbeat.”

Queer folk, PoC, and immigrants have been targeted and live in fear for their lives. They deal with VERY real violence and harassment, even if you don't see it yourself.

This is all the lasting effects of Trump's first term as president.

He and his followers spread a hateful rhetoric strongly aligning with Hitler's before the man took over. They fearmonger and sell out minorities as the reason everything's wrong in this country.

They make minorities a scapegoat, and make them into targets.

Regardless of the actual results of the election, these so-called “victories” for the Right only embolden the bigots to act more and more egregiously.

It doesn't matter if you're “one of the good ones”. It doesn't matter if “most Republicans aren't like that”. It doesn't matter what you think.

What matters is reality.

And reality is: a Trump victory means victory for the extremists.

They ran with it the first time.

What do you think they're going to do with it this time?

This all isn't to sound doomeristic, though—I think we still have a chance. I think Trump's rigged this thing for a reason. I think we need to push for this stuff to be exposed.

But it's going to take everything we have, guys.

Sure, maybe Harris isn't perfect. She's questionable af in a LOT of places, and I personally hate her stances on Palestine. I'm sure most of all of us do. But, do you really think Trump will be any kinder?

Do you really care to doom everyone else off of the miniscule chance that he'll decide to help them?

Listen: Harris isn't trying to turn the States into the next fascist dictatorship. Trump is. Harris isn't showing EVERY single “preparing for a genocide” red flag. Trump. IS.

Petition for recounts. Tell Harris not to give up.

And contact the White House telling them this is not acceptable.

Complain about the bomb threats. Complain about the lost ballots. Complain about the tampered-with ballots. Complain about the burned ballots, complain about the rejected ballots, and don't stop fighting tooth-and-nail like Trump kicked and screamed after the 2020 election.

Don't give up. It's not too late.

And, to my followers?

Let me make this abundantly clear.

If any of you voted for Trump? If any of you wanted him to win, or for Harris to lose?

Then get the fuck off my blog.

I don't give a shit what kind of relationship we've had in the past, or if you liked my writing, or any of that.

A loss for Harris is a win for Trump—it's that simple.

You aren't morally superior for choosing not to vote for Harris no matter WHAT reason you had for it. You aren't morally superior for finding her dubious, for hating her views on Palestine, or for refraining from choosing either of the two evils.

You're a coward.

An enabler, comforting yourself by telling yourself “at least you didn't have a hand in {whatever turned you against her}”.

Sure, you didn't kill the sheep.

But you left the gates open for the wolves.

And that makes you responsible for their deaths.

You knew the risks of leaving the gate open. But you did it anyway.

And, to any of you who voted for Trump?

I want you to know I HATE you.

No matter what, no matter who, no matter WHY.

I consider you all equally responsible for anything and everything that happens as a result of his presidency if it comes to be.

It isn't “just politics”.

It isn't something you can just wipe your hands clean of.

Maybe you don't have to face the consequences for the things that come from this, but I, the people I love, and countless others do.

It's not “just politics”.

It's our fucking lives.

And I hope, one of these days, you learn to regret it as much as the rest of us.

So, to those of you who left the gate open?

Do yourself a favor.

Get the fuck off my blog before I find out you did.

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hauntedhowlett-writes · 8 months ago

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✧*̥˚ my muses, acquired like bruises *̥˚✧

a collection of my fics inspired by taylor swift songs/lyrics, in honor of the release of THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

JOEL MILLER

cruel summer | au | explicit | chapters: 6/6

Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise. He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

crimson red paint on my lips | post-outbreak | explicit | connected work

Joel Miller is an asshole. You should have known better than to show up at his door with your lips painted red. Connected to me and the devil and marked me like a bloodstain

↳AO3 | Tumblr

marked me like a bloodstain | post-outbreak | explicit | connected work

You save Joel’s life when the two of you are attacked on a smuggling run. He has an interesting way of saying thank you. Connected to crimson red paint on my lips and me and the devil

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karma is my boyfriend’s dad | au | explicit | connected work

Your boyfriend, Sean Miller, is an asshole. The one redeeming thing about him? His dad, Joel Miller. And he's just invited you along on the family vacation to Panama City Beach, Florida.

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in a feud with her neighbor | au | explicit | connected work

Five times you think Joel Miller is the worst neighbor ever, and the one time he isn’t.

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bonus scenes: in a feud with her neighbor | au | PG-13 | connected work

Fluffy bonus scenes for "in a feud with her neighbor" as suggested by anon!

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toyin’ with them older guys | au | explicit | one-shot

Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder. But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they keep leaving mid date with no explanation. Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all.

↳AO3 | Tumblr

help me hold onto you | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot

Joel always tries his best to keep his mind from wandering to its darkest corners, but occasionally, the frayed threads holding him together with sloppy stitches start to unravel. Sometimes you need to give him something to hold onto.

↳AO3 | Tumblr

seven | post-outbreak | explicit | one-shot

Joel Miller has spent twenty years pushing the grief and guilt surrounding the death of his daughter, Sarah, to the darkest recesses of his brain in favor of survival. Living a more quiet life in Jackson means the ghosts of his past have returned to haunt him. He finds his solace in you, the town librarian.

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the last great american dynasty | au | explicit | one-shot

Joel Miller has loved the historic Victorian home in his neighborhood since the first time he laid eyes on it. When the elderly owner passes, he thinks he might get his chance to finally buy it and fix it up. He doesn’t expect to find you, the granddaughter of the previous owner and trustee of her estate, standing in the way of his dream.

↳Tumblr | AO3

TOMMY MILLER

wrong place, right time | pre-outbreak | explicit | one-shot

What if Joel didn’t answer Tommy’s call from jail? And what if the waitress he’d been defending that night bailed him out instead?

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JAVIER PEÑA

i can see you (javier peña's version) | au | explicit | one-shot

When Javier Peña takes credit for your lead, you take revenge. Good thing you know Javier can't resist a girl in red lipstick.

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FRANKIE MORALES

my tears and my beers and my candles | au | explicit | one-shot

It’s been a bad week and you just need to have a good cry. You didn’t expect Frankie Morales, best friend and unrequited crush, to crash your pity party. He’s got some interesting ways of making you feel better. Maybe it’s not so unrequited after all.

↳AO3 | Tumblr

invisible string | au | explicit | one-shot

After fifteen years, the invisible string that ties you to Frankie Morales pulls you back together

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MIGUEL O'HARA

i can see you (miguel o'hara's version) | au | explicit | one-shot

As Dr. Miguel O’Hara’s graduate teaching and research assistant, you’ve spent years pushing down the inappropriate thoughts you’ve had about the brilliant, gorgeous man. But what happens when a late night at the lab and a scientific breakthrough leads to a breakthrough of a different kind?

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EDDIE MUNSON

the mark you saw on my collarbone | vampire au | explicit | connected work

A snippet of life with your human and your monster. A oneshot in the bat out of hell series

↳AO3

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mamirhodessxox · 9 months ago

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I Hate You More (Part 4)

Mafia!Cody Rhodes x Fem OC!Mafia Reader

(Sasha Francesca Ricci)

Enemies to lovers trope

Credits to @alyyaanna for helping me come up w the storyline because I had like 3 different mental breakdowns trying to figure out what to do

Storyline: Sasha was born into a world of darkness and fear, Despite the harsh circumstances she was out in she managed to drag herself into finding love at a young age especially when she least expected it but unfortunately not all love stories are fairytales, Sasha resented the man who once brought her love in her life just to leave and break her heart while having the audacity to invade her life many years once again and give her conflict of love and war on how she was to overcome the feelings she feared while trying to focus on her job with him being so close and invasive to her.

Contents: Smut in future chapters, Knife Play, Choking kink, Degradation kink, Praising Kink, Alcohol, Smoking, Violence, Mentions of m1rder, drug dealing, Fluff, Angst.

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Sasha & Cody had a good think running for a little bit. There was still the slight bickering & Sasha becoming annoyed with Cody but believe it or not when they would work together they got work done.

They did fucking amazing on drug deals & made massive amounts of money, Miami was a messy city & the drug business sunk their fucking teeth into the City’s bad habits which were Partying & getting as high as possible.

Sasha would make the sales while Cody would keep track of whatever they were selling & how much money they were making but Barbra was still quite unhappy with Cody after seeing his Initials “C.R” Into her thigh, She was not pleased with Cody at all after that but once again, Business is Business. Sasha & Cody never established what was between them after that and they honestly preferred to keep it that way but Sasha had made it abundantly clear to Athena multiple times he was off the roster to screw but she just won’t take the hint.

Marianna sat in the kitchen watching Athena follow around Cody like a lost dog within the streets & noticed she laughed way to hard at one of his jokes he would make with Randy & Sasha knew Cody wasn’t THAT funny. She turned to Marianna & put on an annoying high pitched voice mocking the girl that was once her friend “Ohh my gosh! Of course I’ll screw you when your feeling bored and lonely Cody! Even though I fucked half of the house and probably the entire city of Miami because that’s the slut I am!! I’ll even act like your best friend & cheer you on to get someone you miss so bad and go behind your back to fuck that same person!” Marianna laughed in amusement while everyone’s attention turned to Sasha.

Athena scoffed crossing her arms “Is there a problem Sasha?” Cody raised a brow as he watched the two “I’m sorry did you not like my joke? Maybe it was a little bit too real for you huh?” Sasha faked pity & frowned poking her bottom lip out before Athena rolled her eyes “Your just mad because Cody fucked me more because he wanted to touch me instead of someone as repulsing as you.” Sasha widened her eyes & laughed “You wanna talk about repulsing but you fuck half of the state of Florida? Okay Athena. Okay. Maybe I should probably give you a very in depth reminder on what he’s done with me rather than you because I actually have meaning to him.” Sasha pushed Marianna out of her way gently while strutting over to Cody & Athena “Pull your shirt up.” Cody furrowed his brows “Sash-“ “Pull. Your fucking. Shirt up.” Cody glared and tugged his shirt up revealing his chest as Sasha placed her nail right next to her name that was cut into his skin “Bet he didn’t let you do that to him did he? Let you claim him as yours?”

“Hell did he even cut his initials on you in 3 different places?” She tilted her head with a confused look on her face while Athena was starting to show off her anger & envy as Sasha got in her face “You also have a lot of fucking nerve on you to come into MY mothers house, act like your big tough shit to her daughter who has more control over you than your own fucking parents combined & act like your gonna do something whenever I offend you. Let me make it abundantly clear for you Thena. You’re a passed around play thing that’s only a good fuck when someone’s frustrated or just in general horny. The only reason why you’re here right now is because we have pity for you. But keep in mind that you will never be me, you will never have Cody & own him the way I do & you are not a goddamn Ricci because if you were, You’d bring some shame to this goddamn family & business.” Cody grabbed Sasha’s shoulder pulling her away “That’s enou-“ she looked at him and snickered looking at him up and down before turning her attention back to Athena “Get out of my face Athena.”

She huffed and puffed looking around for defense but everyone sat silent besides Marianna. She was smirking sitting on the table dangling her fingers at her and blowing her a kiss mouthing the words ‘Bye Bye’ before Randy gave her a look and a light pat on the thigh as a warning to stay out of this. Cody glared over at Sasha “What the fuck was that?” She raised a brow “I was putting her in her place what do you mean ‘What the fuck was that’ Cody?” He scoffed shaking his head “Seriously? Telling her that she’s all good for sex & how she will never mean anything to me?” Sasha glared and crossed her arms before rolling her neck side to side while letting out a breathy laugh “Of course you’d be the type to carve your fucking name on my body & have me do the same to yours and proceed to tell me I own you as much as you own me just for you to defend Athena & stick your dick back down her throat.” She spat her harsh words at him while Marianna furrowed her brows and almost spoke up against Cody to defend her bestfriend but Randy gave her another look before Sasha scoffed “Fuck you Cody. You’re just as much of a whore as she is.” Seth watched his sister storm off while Cody turned to him for defense but he shook his head “You can’t just cut your name into my sisters skin & expect her to not have a little bit of possessiveness over you towards someone who’s been a problem like this for over 4 years.”

Cody furrowed his brows before walking off towards Athenas room to formally & privately apologize on Sasha’s behalf but realized Sasha saw as she was walking towards the front door & stared directly at him before picking up a pair of keys from the bowl that laid next to the door where people often put their wallet, Keys or even other things before entering the house completely Cody’s face dropped & soon sprinted down the stairs but she was out of the house. Already in the drive way with a key & walking towards the car Cody had owned which meant it was luxurious “Don’t you do it Goddamnit!” He shouted as everyone followed behind him but Sasha also noticed a bat that laid next to a bush & immediately went off to go grab it “Sasha knock it off!” Barbra shouted pushing past Cody & Seth & went to stop her daughter but she was faster & immediately smashed the bat into gis windshield and pointed it in his direction “I’m sick of your fucking games Cody! I’m sick of you acting like I mean something to you but then when I hurt your little fuck toys feelings by calling her out on what she is I’m such a fucking problem!” She shouted while Cody rushed towards her & tried grabbing out for her wrist but she immediately slammed the bat into the hood of his car

“Sasha knock it off & talk to me about this like a grown fucking woman!” “FUCK YOU! I showed you my vulnerability I let you CARVE your name into my skin & you just continue to fuck me over!” She screamed at him & eventually Randy leaned into Mari’s ear as the two shouted at each other “Do what you need to do.” She nodded at him and walked towards Sasha pushing Cody away “You need to leave her alone & just stop fucking talking. You’ve done enough.” She warned him while turning to Sasha & looking at her with a soft expression and taking the bat & keys away from her as gently as possible “c’mere..” Sasha then finally let her walls down for her best friend and cried on her shoulder while Cody stood in guilt before she saw Athena walk out which brought back all of that rage & make Sasha shove past Mari & get in Athena’s smug face “What kind of fucking friend are you!? This isn’t even about Cody this was about You & Me and our friendship and how you fucked that up & if you didn’t wanna be friends the. FINE because I don’t wanna fucking be your friend.” Marianna frowned & held Sasha’s shoulder before making her walk past everyone & go back inside. The two sat down on the staircase & Mari just held Sasha who was crying with frustration & confusion “I’m s-so sick of it! He puts me through hell & now she’s fucking him!? W-What the fuck Mari! When is it gonna end!” She sniffled while the brunette frowned running her hands down Sasha’s back.

Barbra breathed heavily & diverted her stare onto Athena “Was this your doing? Did you cause this damn fight!?” Athena stood there in shock & held her mouth agape while Barbra slammed her hands against her chest pushing her down onto the ground “You have a lot of nerve to come into this business, this family & make MY daughters life hell when she came to you with welcoming arms.” She scolded while Athena stayed speechless. Randy gently held Barbs arm “Don’t. It’s not worth yelling for.” She looked over at him & nodded while looking back over at the man who caused her daughter heartbreak “Your a pathetic excuse for a man.” She spat harsh words at him before turning & kicking Athena out of her way before walking inside to comfort her child.

Weeks after that Cody suffered in silent treatment from not only his bestfriend Seth but also Sasha. She wouldn’t even argue with him & annoy him like she usually does, it was as if she pretended he wasn’t there. One night she sat on the porch after dinner & drank out of her single wine bottle.

6 years ago…

Sasha & Cody sat together on the pier of Miami beach enjoying each others embrace while she swirled the promise ring he gave her many months ago around her finger she just pushed 19 & him 20, for the last 3 years they had been dating after meeting each other in high-school. They were so well connected to each other & related on many a things throughout their relationship. Their families were both within a fucked up mafia like business. When both of them couldn’t handle the way their lifestyles worked some days they were the only people that could comfort one another.

She leaned her head against his shoulder tracing shoulders against his back while he held her close just as the sun was setting & reflecting off of the ocean “One day I’m gonna get us out of here Sash’ I’m gonna get us out of here, start a new life somewhere quiet & calm and put a permanent ring on that finger.” She smiled looking up at him & interlocked her hand with his “You think we’ll love each other like this forever Codes?” She was such a sweet girl, her voice soft & relaxed, “I know we will sweet girl, for as long as we both live.”

If only it were true, after the sun officially set he took her home 2 hours after her curfew & she laughed as he tried climbing through her window as easy as she did “Cody we could’ve gone through the door.” He shook his head chuckling as he finally made it through her window before holding her waist ��Your mom would’ve killed me if she saw me walk through that door especially when we’re getting here fashionably late for your curfew baby y’know this.” She smiled shrugged and pressing her gentle kiss against his lips “I love you Cody.” “I love you more angel, forever and always.”

She was so love sick for him that a month after that night where he broke up with her she changed forever, she was never able to love anyone the way she loved her Cody. She felt broken & lost without him and slowly began to resent & hate him for the way he left this affect on her

Present Day..

She felt Cody’s presence behind her & turned around a bit before looking away while he sighed sitting down next to her “What happened to us Sash?” He asked softly and looked at her while she avoided the eye contact “It wasn’t supposed to be like this sweetheart, WE weren’t supposed to be like this.” Sasha looked over at him & put her hair up while he kept talking “It was a stupid mistake the way we ended things sash’ we had a good thing going on & I just fucked it all up instead of fighting harder” Sasha shook her head “Maybe we just weren’t meant to be together Cody. We would’ve ended up in this current situation together or not.” He frowned shaking his head “Baby don’t say that..” Sasha scowled at the pet name “Don’t call me that.” She warned, Cody sighed and tried grabbing ahold of her hand but she got up & started walking back inside the house & hid herself away into her bedroom while her phone was ringing. Roman.

She picked up the call & swiftly shut her door locking it behind her “Have you thought over my offer yet Doll?” She hummed, A few nights ago Roman had gotten in touch offering her a place within his own gig within the drug business & utter control over anything she wanted unlike what she had in her family’s business. She wouldn’t have to face Cody everyday, she wouldn’t have to put up with Athena’s bullshit, it was like starting a clean slate. “I have. I would like to take up your offer.” She heard his devious chuckle before he told her she was to be expected at his manor by the morning & hung up.

She made her way downstairs into her mother & Randy’s office & gave them an update on Roman calling her as they had already knew about his offer, “If you feel comfortable enough going through with the plan then I’ll allow you to make your way over there tomorrow & do what you need to do..” Randy spoke as he leaned his entire body weight on his desk. Randy & Barbra had been told about this stunt Roman was pulling on Sasha and they had decided to make a plan by having her “go through with the offer” & turning on him just to get the information the Ricci’s needed on Roman.

Cody leaned against the wall near the office listening in & once Sasha finished her discussion with Randy & her mother and she walked out Cody grabbed her arm and walked off while she smacked his hand “What the fuck?! Cody let me go! I don’t have time for any of your games damnit!” He wouldn’t budge & dragged her outside into the backyard “What the fuck was that about Sasha?” She glared in confusion “Oh your fucking eavesdropping now?” He nodded putting his hands in his hips hooking his fingers against the belt wrapped around his pants “Yes, Yes I fucking am because I heard a very familiar name & I’m pretty sure it was Romans, Sasha for the love of fucking god don’t go through with this dumb shit it’s going to end horribly.” She crossed her arms as she grimaced at him “I’m getting really sick of you trying to control my own decisions Cody, Seriously, it’s fucking annoying.” Cody smacked his hands against his legs and paced in a circle for a quick minute trying to speak but she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt “Shut your mouth for 1 damn minute & save me the goddamn scolding of a life time okay? I’m going through with the plan and your not stopping me.” She shoved him out of her way and made her way back inside

Sasha spent the next day going over some things with Roman & getting used to the new atmosphere. Her gut tried telling her this was a horrible idea but she refused to listen. Roman sat her down in an office and cleared his throat. “We know you killed one of my men Doll. And usually I don’t appreciate that disrespect but I noticed that you are damn good at your job. I want you to be one of my hitmen, interrogators & top sellers. How does that sound?” She tilted her head “What’s in it for me?” He hummed digging through his desks drawers & then slammed a stack of cash on the table in her face “10,000 dollars each kill, sound good enough for you?” She picked up and flicked her thumb against the cash & jotted her head in his direction “20,000” “Deal.” She smiled & stood up & Shook his hand “A deals a deal.” Roman grinned before running his hand down her cheek “Your going to be the greatest addition to this business. You will not be taken for granted Sasha. Let’s put the past behind us starting today yeah?”

Randy was blowing up her phone for an update but she didn’t pick up. In fact this is where they started to not hear from her for 3 whole weeks. Everyone tried contacting Sasha but it was radio silence on her part so..Seth ended up calling roman to make a fair deal over some drug sale & had set a meeting place in a parking garage but she knew it was their way of trying to get her back as the realization hit for them that Sasha was actually going through with the offer Roman gave her.

Roman & Sasha waited in the parking garage for this “drug deal” but just as one of their cars began pulling in she grabbed Romans shoulder softly as she slowly realized it was only one of them attending this deal & that gave her the confirmation she needed that they were indeed trying to get her back. “You go home. I know their tricks & pawns. Let me deal with this alright?” Roman huffed thinking about it before giving in & following her directions stepping into his car & driving off. Just as the black Porsche pulled into a stop & parked in between the two white lines Cody got out of the car while Sasha stood her ground, hands in the pockets of her leather jacket while he sighed “Really Sasha? Turning on us now? Is that what Ricci’s do?” She shrugged “I don’t know. But since you like to act like your a Ricci when you’re not how by the way, about you tell me that yourself Cody, do we do that?” He winced at her words & dramatically put a hand over his chest “Your words truly hurt me sweetheart.” He spoke in a sarcastic tone.

“Why are you doing this Sasha, seriously, why? Your smarter than this yet your acting like a fucking dumbass turning your back on us for someone who’s going to turn his back on you. She clenched her jaw as she observed his body language & every detail of his face “He has more to offer to me than any of you, I mean seriously Cody, do you understand how fucked it is for your mother to know how badly her daughters first love broke her but yet still recruits him? That’s pretty fucked if I do say so myself but you wouldn’t understand because your ego’s as high as the clouds and your head is busy shoved up your own ass you don’t even realize how much your presence itself affects me.” Cody frowned before looking down and running his fingers against his jaw. He nodded looking up trying to reach his hand out to her but immediately she acted fast

Just as he stepped a few inches closer Sasha pulled a pistol out of her coat & pressed it against his head with a plain face “Not another step.” She said slowly as he chuckled with an amused smile on his head “That’s a new move. Go on Sasha. Since you apparently have the balls to pull a gun on me now do it. Shoot me.” Sasha froze at his words but eventually noticed he was being dead serious. “You have the guts to pull a gun on me then you must have the guts to shoot me right? Go on sweetheart, pull the trigger, right here, right now.”

She glared as he placed his hand over hers & scooted her finger towards the trigger “Do. It.” Fuck.

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