#i would suck as a race engineer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

priniya · 5 days

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ᯓᡣ𐭩 GORGEOUS! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

pairing. oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

summary. the youngest leclerc was known to be an outgoing, extroverted menace, but suddenly when she meets the new mclaren driver, she does something she never does — gets embarrassing.

notes. a fair warning for the google translated french.im sorry if it sucks 😭😭 its my first time doing something like this and i really hope u like it :3 ALSO??? OSCAR WIN IN BAKU WAS SO BEAUTIFUL THE OVERTAKE?? THE DEFENDING?? a great day for piastrination!!!!! (can you tell i totally dig x leclerc!reader??) send requests for more smaus pls :)

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, arthur_leclerc and 127 621 others.

yourusername spreading the rbr agenda on the streets of kyoto, because your girl finally graduated journalism and engineering with honours!

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arthur_leclerc charles just saw the jacket and had an aneurysm LMAO

user1 someone check on leclerc pls

charles_leclerc cant believe my OWN baby sister wears that in public

yourusername ill take it off once ferrari releases their own energy drink 👍

alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous as usual ❤️

yourusername please dump my brother and date me instead

yourusername please i beg you

yourusername JUST ONE CHANCE 😭😭😣😣😣😭😭

user2 yn is one of us

maxverstappen1 looking good in blue! 💙

loved by author!

yourbff girl land that job or you gon go broke soon with that red bull addiction 👎👎👎

user3 atp yn is sponsoring the team 😭

yourbff you bet she is, girl

user4 double major in such different things pop off queen

user5 need to see her in paddock cos i know the girl is bout to argue with ferrari engineers

yourusername bin*tto left ferrari cos he knew i would drag him down 😁😁😁

user6 love how we had to go thru the 2023 drought without the baby leclerc and now shes baaaack

user7 fr i missed the times when ferrari wasnt the only thing making charles miserable

user7 congratulations on graduating queen!!!! cant wait for the new vid or to see u at one of the races 🥺

user8 im sorry im really new to f1 stuff who is she and why are the drivers here? 😭

user9 this is charlies sister yn!! but she has her youtube channel where she used to post a lot of diff stuff! shes been living in japan for the past four years of her undergrad degrees but due to the workload she had a hiatus for a year 💔💔 u should check out her channel its so cool

arthur_leclerc

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 320 612 others.

arthur_leclerc good day in monaco today, changing professions to a photographer rn, what u think of that?

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user10 arthur you had one job to bring your sister to paddock…

user11 its just friday girl calm down

yourusername please restrain yourself from posting pictures of that ugly face you see in the mirror

yourusername …WHO IS IN THE SECOND SLIDE

yourusername ARTHUR ANSWER ME

yourusername my ovaries are quacking rn ARTHUR ANSWER ME

user12 not yn simping over oscar AND calling arthur ugly 😭😭😭

user13 shes so me tbh

charles_leclerc such a handsome man on the third slide 🔥🔥🔥

olliebearman why is yn tweaking like that 😭

yourusername cos he’s so pretty

oscarpiastri you were supposed to send me the picture not POST IT

user14 this is the guy yourusername 🔥‼️‼️

yourusername omg hes SO gorgeous

oscarpiastri thank you…?

arthur_leclerc yourusername please stop embarrassing the family name

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 101 892 others.

yourusername a quick pit stop in paris before the monaco course is broken!!!!!! (source: trust me bro 🙂‍↕️) drinking for my pookie dookiest brother to secure that pole and p1 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

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yourusername dont let the caption fool you, i am NOT stopping drinking vodka red bull to make sure rbr doesn’t lose their biggest sponsor (me)

maxverstappen1 ty for your service 🫡🫡

yourusername no prob pookie, lecfosi by association but a red bull girlie at heart 😌😌

yourusername big thanks to the autocorrect ❤️❤️❤️ youre the real one babe 🔥🔥🔥

user15 wait till she realises oscar is in the likes…

user16 ohh the girl is gonna be so messy 😭😭😭

user16 im all for it tho 🔥

lilymhe WHAT A GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GIRL

alexandrasaintmleux face card is never denied!

user17 oscar in the likes 🥹🥹

yourusername WHO IS IN THE LIKES??????

yourusername NOO OH MY GOD HES HERE

yourusername HI YOURE SUPER CUTE oscarpiastri

user18 SHE TAGGED HIM LOL

user19 she really want that dick…

yourusername i just think hes cute that is NOT a crime

oscarpiastri i think you’re really cute too :)

yourusername HXJSKSJJDBDJSJS

yourusername sorry a red bull ran across my screen 😭

arthur_leclerc yourbff please tell her she’s not as slick as she thinks she is

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user20 what do you expect 😭😭 she probably partied all night before getting to monaco

user21 LMAOO RIGHT??? but if you watched her vids you know that the girl LOVES an opportunity for a party

user22 yn stronger than me because i’d kiss him on the spot

user23 alr weirdo… they JUST met

user24 he is probably weirded out like imagine meeting a girl who SIMPS over you in the insta comments… she needs to chill

user25 he won’t pick you 👎👎

user26 gtfo if he was weirded out he wouldnt be in the likes of her post or sayin he thinks shes cute lol

user27 the real gentleman out there 🥹🥹

user28 i need them together asap

user29 super delulu but i totally dig the golden retriever gf x polite black cat bf

user30 OMGGG I TOTALLY SEE THE VISION

user31 pls they just met and he was just being polite 👎 stop trying to get into their lives

yourusername

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 428 621 others.

yourusername HE DID IT!!!! I TOLD YALL THAT HE WOULD DO IT!!! MY BROTHER WINS IN MONACO. DONT HIT US UP FOR THE NEXT WEEK OR TWO!!! ITS CELEBRATION TIME!!!! aussi, charlie, il n'y a pas beaucoup de mots capables d'exprimer à quel point je suis fier de toi. vous l'avez fait et personne ne peut vous l'enlever.

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priniya translation! also, charlie — there isn’t an amount of words able to express how proud i am of you. you did it and no one can take it away from you.

user32 girlie might tell everyone she’s a red bull girl, but like the king sebastian once said, everyone is a ferrari fan even when they say they’re not or something like that 🔥🔥🔥

user33 CONGRATULATIONS CHARLES!!! FINALLY WON!!!

carlossainz55 ay cropped my ‘carlos p3’ out 😖😖

yourusername this is a celebration post for my pookiest brother you are IRRELEVANT rn

carlossainz55 that was harsh

yourusername win YOUR home race and i’ll post one 4 u 👍👍

charles_leclerc je t’aime mon lutin ❤️

yourusername je t’aime mon coco 🫶🫶🫶

oscarpiastri congratulations to the man of the day, such an honour to stand next to you on the podium xx

arthur_leclerc man you gotta stop commenting on her posts, she’s going insane rn

oscarpiastri i’m sorry…?

yourusername NO DONT BE SORRY DONT LISTEN TO HIM IM COMPLETELY SANE

yourusername oscarpiastri please keep interacting with me i’m gonna die if you listen to arthur

oscarpiastri i guess i gotta text you now and then to make sure you don’t die

yourusername please do that

user34 do they know we can see that??

user35 idc im eating this up

user36 oscaryn truthers rise and shine

user37 atp i cant tell if hes interested or if hes doing that for his own entertainment

user38 probably both

user39 i LOVE how a celebration post for charles turned into an opportunity to flirt with oscar 😭😭

user40 she is NOT stronger than me because if i had a chance i’d took it

user41 setting her priorities straight

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 792 721 others.

oscarpiastri a quick but very much needed pit stop before zandvoort

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user42 someone check on yn ASAP

user43 yn one of us once again because we couldn’t bag oscar either 😭

user44 can yall stop talking abt that girl FOR ONCE no one gaf

landonorris looking good mate

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yourusername pls tell me you found more of these beautiful seashells and brought some back for me

oscarpiastri we did actually! y immediately thought abt you and picked the pretty ones

yourusername GOD. i love her give her a big hug from me

oscarpiastri will do maam 🫡🫡

user45 so it’s not yn in the pics?? NOOOOO

user46 my life is ruined rn

user47 throwing oscaryn into a memory box because oscar and his gf looks really cute together

charles_leclerc hope you had a great summer mate

oscarpiastri the best 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

user48 what if they r just trolling us because this caption looks really similar to the one yn posted before monaco???

user49 OMGGG YOURE ONTO SOMETHING

user50 hopefully on the way to the psych ward because this is some delulu shit

user51 soft launch over the summer 🥹🥹 hes so cute

user52 whoever his girl is, i just hope they’re happy and yall should too!

yourusername also plsplspls can y send me the id to the top?? it looks so cute from the back

user53 girl he wont choose you stop trying so hard 😭😭

user54 they can be friends ? lol

user55 does someone knows who the girl is???? i need to know its not yn 😭😭

user56 georgerussell63 tell us what you know 🫵🫵

georgerussell63 🤐🤐🤐

alex_albon he’s actually crying and gritting his teeth because he’d LOVE to tell

gossipracegirl

liked by georgerussell63, user57 and 87 621 others.

gossipracegirl a rumour has it that a driver for formula one with a number eighty one was seen getting cozy with one of his on-track rival’s little sister, while in a relationship. was it a drunken mistake or was it all planned?

tagged oscarpiastri yourusername

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user58 something is really wrong with leclercs one is a homie hopper and second is a homewrecker LOL

user59 shouldve happened in monaco so the people could get detained for invading their priacy like wtf WHO CARES

user60 all she do is bring bad pr to oscar BOO👎👎👎

user61 nooo oscar pookie you were supposed to be free from drama 😭😭

user62 gr63 in the likes LMAOO

user63 not yn being a homewrecker girl i liked u sm 😭😭

user64 yall acting like she’s in the wrong ? it gotta be consensual if they looked that chill n happy

user65 no wonder why yn has been streaming olivia rodrigo RELIGIOUSLY

user66 isnt that some type of incest atp?

user67 LMAOO imagine making out with your brother’s adopted son

yourusername

liked by pascale_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 273 811 others.

yourusername YALL THOUGHT. it was me all along :P i was giggling n kicking my feet pretending i know osco’s gf while it was ME. summer break vlog with osco coming up sooner than u think so please stop calling me a homewrecker 😖😖😖

also, girls don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, being yourself is what gets you an amazing guy even if your brother thinks youre embarrassing <3

tagged oscarpiastri

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georgerussell63 ty for not SLACKING OFF anymore i barely could hold it inside 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

yourusername you told HALF the grid be for real brother you DID NOT hold it inside

fransisca.gomes no way oscar bagged you before i could 😭😭😭😭

yourusername i’m always gonna be yours kiks no one could take you away from me <3

francisca.gomes <3

pierregasly really thought getting u a bf would mean you leave MY girl alone

yourusername thinking is not your best thing, stick to racing

user68 shit user48 YOU WERE RIGHT

user48 NEVER DOUBT ME BITCHES

user69 this text?? oh he is down bad for you girl

user70 i need all of those bitches who called yn a homewrecker to APOLOGISE like rn

oscarpiastri thank you for letting me be a part of your life like this

user71 i know the girl is GIGGLING rn

yourusername thank YOU for making a part of YOUR life

user72 get yourself a man who THANKS you for being with you

user73 oscar piastri is the MAN

user74 osco 🥹🥹

user75 theyre the cutest your honour

arthur_leclerc cant believe you two are actually together

arthur_leclerc what is WRONG with you oscarpiastri

user76 SO OPPOSITES DOES ATTRACT

charles_leclerc i feel like i should tear those adoption papers apart no?

user77 nicole and pascale in the likes omg the moms r proud 🥹

hattiepiastri i miss youuuu come back to aus soon

yourusername I MISS YOU TOO 😭😭 i’ll be back soon!!

lorenzotl ❤️❤️❤️

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lilymhe double date when?

yourusername mark your calendar, we’ll be there 🫶

user78 does it mean we lose our favorite rbr girlie? 😭😭😭😖😖

user79 mclaren YOU TOOK HER AWAY FROM US 🫵

yourusername i am NOT wearing that ugly orange for a MAN (even if hes super gorgeous and sweet)

mclaren ☹️☹️☹️

landonorris it’s papaya

yourusername “it’s papaya” ☝️🤓

landonorris oscarpiastri please break up with her or you’re gonna be paying for my therapy

oscarpiastri send the bill mate, i’m in for the longest ride possible here

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drurrito · 5 months

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Night Drive (18+)

Summary: You get a new car

AN: 18+ only y'all--we're gonna pretend that there are plenty of other self-driving cars that aren't t*sla...I hope this makes up for me not putting out another part of AYTO yet! All mistakes are mine.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: cursing; reader has a dick; dom//powerbottom!Natasha; sub//top!reader

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You sink lower into your seat as you rev the engine of your new car with the widest grin Natasha can't see. Natasha looks hardly impressed from your view beyond the barely-legal tint of the windows.

You decide to roll down your window and plead your case.

"Hey baby."

Natasha rolls her eyes. You already screw yourself coming right out the gate with pleasantries, Natasha knows you're desperate to get on her good side when you do that.

"So...what do you think?" You vaguely gesture to the rest of the car and Natasha scoffs.

"I think you were a finance bro in your past life," she crosses her arms, and you relent, "probably," you sing as you round the car to lean against the hood. The gun metal gray still holds a shine in the moonlight. This wasn't an impulse purchase, you had been talking about buying a new car for a while now. You would go on little rants about the specs of certain cars whenever you saw them on the road or on TV. It's not like you were waiting when you had the money, being an avenger was a pretty-paying gig. You were just waiting for the right one, at the right time--a method you mastered by the time Natasha came around.

"Wanna go for a joyride?" You offer, already leaning off the hood and spinning the key in your hand.

Natasha wants to keep giving you a hard time, but you look so damn good in front of your sleek, expensive, new backdrop. Your muscles bulge under your fitted black shirt, and you have the cockiest smile on your face, like you knew you were winning this race.

"And if we get pulled over?"

"With SHIELD plates? I'm not worried about it," it almost comes out like it's scripted. You're not above rehearsing a speech for Natasha if it means getting your way. You're pulling out all the stops, but Natasha wants to remind you who's really behind the wheel. Her eyes rake over you slowly, intensely--the same way fresh lava travels over earth. You're standing at attention and you don't even know it.

"You gonna open the door for me or just stand there like you forgot your manners?" Natasha watches in amusement as you fumble for the door handle. She slides onto the cool leather while you make your way into the driver's seat yet again. You wait patiently for her to get comfortable and buckle in.

It's only when you rev the engine with a wink that Natasha muses this might have been a bad idea on her part. You punch the gas pedal and she's quickly acquainted with the back of the cherry red bucket seat.

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

Natasha decides that she doesn't like going fast unless the fate of the world depends on it. She also decides this is the one exception when she sees the freeway system of veins in your forearms as you grip the steering wheel. Natasha feels like she's flying when she watches your triceps flex while you turn the wheel or do something as mundane as turning on her seat heater.

Natasha slides her seatbelt off in a way that doesn't set off the sensor--she didn't want this moment to be ruined by a lecture on why it's important to buckle-up. You're too distracted by the beat of your night drive playlist to notice her crawling closer to you.

You feel her lips on the shell of your ear, "eyes on the road, got it?"

"Yes ma'am," you try to say cooly, you don't dare chance a look over at her. She hums with satisfaction and rewards you with a kiss on the skin behind your ear and a nibble on your lobe that tightens the coil in your belly.

Natasha sucks and licks at your neck while her deft fingers work to undo your belt and zipper. Her hand explores the border of your waistband before dipping under and finding what it was looking for. You let out a whisper of a gasp when Natasha admires your full length and girth. Your grip on the wheel tightens, Natasha chuckles when she hears the leather under your fingers groan.

Natasha begins to stroke you slowly, agonizingly so, but that doesn't keep your hips from bucking up into her hand.

"Tash," that only elicits a rumble against your neck. Natasha's other hand curls around your neck and gives a light squeeze that makes your vision blur for a second. Her stroking picks up speed, you have to work impossibly hard to keep your foot off the brakes.

"Natasha, please."

"I like the way you say please, baby," she mumbles with your skin between her teeth.

"What did I tell you?"

"Eyes on the road, ma'am," you say with a quickness that makes the corner of her lips curl up in satisfaction.

"So smart," she praises before you helplessly watch her head lower until you feel her lips greet your cock with a sloppy kiss. You throw your head back against your seat with a pathetic moan.

"So desperate," Natasha teases, and your mind feels like it's going a million miles an hour--multitasking is usually your strong suit, but it seems damn near impossible now.

Natasha's tongue travels the length of you, your hips feebly buck into her mouth when she finally grants you entrance. You slow your speed to safely take a hand off the wheel and hold her hair back. She thanks you with a gentle squeeze on your thigh and the prettiest sounds you could have only ever imagined.

Your playlist is already repeating itself by the time Natasha comes up for air. She can barely hear it over your panting anyway. You're rock hard and right where she wants you.

"The car can drive itself, you know," you breathe out. Natasha's brow quirks with curiosity.

"Show me," it's a gentle command, but your fingers rush to press the right sequence of buttons. You ease the seat back with haste, and Natasha just lets you sit there for a few beats to take you in and also leave you in suspense.

Your fingers dumbly flex against your legs while you wait for further instruction from Natasha. She doesn't even try to hide her smirk when your eyes begin to dart between the road and her.

"You're not gonna let us crash right, dove?" Natasha's finger traces a feather-light trail down your arm. It's a genuine question, even though she knows you probably did some sizable research on the safety features of the car before you even entertained buying it.

"No ma'am, you're precious cargo," you give an easy smile and that's Natasha's cue to move and straddle your lap. You help her with your hands on her hips, your hands quickly retreating to your sides when she's situated over you.

Natasha swears your eyes are sparkling as you watch her slide her panties to the side with one hand and take your length in the other.

"Eyes on me, baby, just for a second," she coos and you obey. Natasha can't help but admire the striations of your muscles working overtime to restrain yourself. You've always been intoxicatingly obedient, even when it's downright painful. Your eyes are locked on Natasha's, you have to bite your lip to stifle a moan when she finally eases down onto your cock. She's already working her hips in a way that has your entire body buzzing. You can count on one hand how many cars have passed you by this whole time, just like you expected.

Your fingers dig into the leather of your seat, your eyes periodically glancing at the road to make sure it hasn't veered off course for whatever reason. Natasha steals a few sloppy kisses when she leans into you to get a better angle and bounce on your cock at a speed that should be illegal.

"Tash, I'm gonna-," you choke out between labored breaths.

"What was that baby?" she leans back and oh god, you wish you had the kind of self-control your car has right now. You feel like you're going to pass out watching Natasha ride your cock, you're too blissed out to realize that she's spelling out 'm-i-n-e-' with her hips.

"I'm gonna come so fast."

"I know baby."

That seals your fate. Your arm reaches back to brace yourself against the seat. With a long and drawn-out "fuck," Natasha feels you push deeper into her, filling her up with every last drop of you. You both fall into a sweaty, moaning heap against the seat. Your body trembling with aftershocks as Natasha scratches at the skin on the back of your neck. You only get to drink this feeling in for a few seconds until you see red and blue flashing lights in your rearview mirror.

"Shit," you sit up and Natasha freezes when she sees what you see. You feverishly check your speedometer, you're not speeding. You start rifling through your brain to see if you forgot to do something, insurance? Plates? Registration?

Your questions are answered when you watch the cop car speed off into the night. Natasha lets out a heavy sigh of relief that makes your dick twitch, reminding you both that you're still inside of her.

"Told you," you try not to sound so exasperated. Natasha just rolls her eyes before kissing your temple. Night drives might just become a regular thing now.

#not a word #not one peep #works #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff smut #what do i say?#use protection #dont actually have sex while operating a moving vehicle?#if you know what this is inspired by no u don't

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chlorinecake · 6 months

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I was thinking about illegalracer!jungwon as your bf. He takes you for late night rides on his motorcycle that finish with him fucking u on his place, it's like a normal routine now...

Imagine Illegal Racer Jungwon…

Who had a frisky side since the day you met him, living for the thrill of the night and earning himself a name of admiration and infamy on the streets as an underground racer…

Illegal racer Jungwon who turned every road into his personal racetrack, drowning out his thoughts with the roaring pulse of his motorbike engine.

Illegal racer Jungwon who never expected you to become a part of this side of his world, but enjoyed having you around regardless… internally smirking at the startled look on your face whenever his wheels took off in a race, or the labored breaths you’d let out once he returned to greet you with a victory kiss in front of every one watching.

Illegal racer Jungwon who made you sit on the back of his bike one day, inviting you to fully understand his love for the wild life, and you’ve been hooked ever since.

“If you hang on tight enough, I might reward you with something once we get to my place,” he’d say, revving the engine but refusing to take off until your arms were wrapped securely around his waist, nearby neon lights blurring into both your peripheral visions as the smoky wind whipped through your exposed hair.

Illegal Racer Jungwon whose eyes sparkled like onyx as these late night joy rides became a part of your normal routine, adoring how you learned to trust him when he’d speed down narrow alleyways, or come a mere centimeter from colliding into destruction.

You two had even been chased by the police before, but Jungwon always had a way of outrunning them, especially when he had a certain goal in mind to get you alone with him for the night…

Illegal racer Jungwon who with every harsh drift, loved it when you held onto him tighter, stealing kisses at red lights as silver rain painted the streets and your dewy leather jackets.

Illegal racer Jungwon who would park his motorbike under a tree, helping you take your helmet off with his protective hand at your hips, finger playfully linking in the hoops of your jeans as he buried his face in your neck, kissing you desperately in between whispering how badly he had missed you…

Illegal racer Jungwon who usually left the back door to your little secret place unlocked, mostly because it was reserved for one thing and one thing only.

Illegal racer Jungwon who always looked especially attractive in his damp biker suit, watching with lust-ridden eyes as you stripped him of his leather layers to grant you better access to his broad shoulders.

“Love it when I take you out just so I can fuck you, huh?,” he teased, almost cooing at the way you rushed to take off his belt.

Illegal racer Jungwon whose sultry voice tantalized your ears whenever he spoke dirty to you, taking your face in his free hand to force your glossy eyes back on him.

“That’s my good girl- shit… keep fucking yourself on my cock,” he’d grunt in between having you bounce in his lap, sounds of skin against skin filling the room, “does it feel good, baby?… hmm?”

“Feels s-so good, Wonie,” you hummed with a broken moan, throwing your head back as he continued guiding your hips, “gonna come… f-fuck- gonna come so hard for you, baby…”

Illegal racer Jungwon who let his eyes roll in the back of his head every time you clenched around him, his pouty mouth leaning forward to suck, bite, and lick on your skin anywhere he could.

Illegal racer Jungwon who would always finish on your stomach because he never remembered to bring a condom, once again, enjoying the subtle risk of potentially forgetting to pull out of you.

Illegal racer Jungwon whose soft “I love you’s” after a reckless night never failed to make your heart flutter, taking a short cut to bring you back home even if it was past two in the morning.

Illegal racer Jungwon who liked kissing you goodnight at your doorstep on nights like this, his hand playfully smacking your ass as he whispered in the cool air, “You better call me first thing in the morning, alright?”

Illegal racer Jungwon who chuckled to himself whenever you waved at him like he wasn’t the guy you fucked every night, driving off into the distance with his final thoughts being your pretty face, a flushed red hue from the love he made to you...

took me forever and a day to answer this ask (my sincerest apologies, anon), but hopefully you get to read it sometime soon !!

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 💌 ) @squoxle @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr + the link to my masterlist ~

#enhypen #enhypen ff #jungwon smut #yang jungwon #jungwon ff #jungwon hard thoughts #jungwon hard hours #jungwon x reader #jungwon imagines #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard headcanons

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fayesia · 11 months

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mechanic!toji fushiguro

mechanic!toji fushiguro who comes home late from work and hears you moaning upstairs, he races to the bedroom in rage expecting to see you with another man, instead finding you with your hand between your thighs and the other gripping the sheets, writhing around in pleasure moaning “toji…please toji” he’s sure to satisfy your needs until the early hours of the morning.

mechanic!toji fushiguro who you bring lunch to when he forgets it at home, only to find yourself five minutes later bent over the hood of a car he’s working on, getting absolutely destroyed by his tongue and fingers, “you’re the only fucking meal i need baby”.

mechanic!toji fushiguro who you immediately disliked after your first meeting when your car broke down in the middle of the countryside. “well darlin’ maybe you’re just to dim to know that your oil needs changing huh”. Little did you both know the rest of the night after this would be spent in a cheap motel room, where you would be ferociously plowed into the mattress, a moaning mess begging for more. “oh ye baby so fuckin’ tight”

mechanic!toji fushiguro who would always be in a dirty off coloured wife beater, that showed off his arm muscles sculpted by ares himself. Palms stained with grease and dirt—the same palms of the hands that grip tightly onto your waist as you grind you wet pussy along his worn out jeans, head tilted back fighting all the urges in you to let out your pornographic moans. Later after your absolutely soaking orgasm he would get straight back to work, unbeknownst to any customers that the wet stain was your cum as it just camouflaged amongst the various other ones from his job.

mechanic!toji fushiguro who would teach his three year old daughter how a car engine works while you would be hanging the clothes outside smiling at the two bonding. Carrying her on his shoulders he would help you finish up, put your daughter to sleep and spend the rest of the night in a whirlwind of intimacy you both missed since the birth of your first child.

mechanic!toji fushiguro who keeps a bunch of explicit photos of you in his wallet. One of your tits covered in his spit, nipples a red hue after being sucked and played with, another of your mouth filled with his cum as it drips out and down the sides of your neck, your eyes reflect a haze of pleasure with a mischievous glint to them. Even one of you in doggy with your ass red from his slaps and your pussy dripping with his cum as it glides down your inner thighs marking it with a trail of glistening sticky liquid.

#toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #smut #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen smut #toji smut #toji x reader #jjk imagines

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caesium-55 · 6 months

Text

—seven days. [ vi.iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.

The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.

He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.

Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.

Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.

“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”

You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.

“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”

Champ.

Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.

2022

you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer

you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8

max: youre not my mother

you: i am ur manager u ass

you: and i have ur mom’s cell no

you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds

you: 10…

max: you wouldnt dare

you: 9…

He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.

When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.

“What are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lestappen?”

“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”

Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Romantically?”

You nod, “Want the link?”

“Absolutely not.”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Your loss.”

Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.

Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.

Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.

Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.

You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.

Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.

At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.

Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.

His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.

“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.

You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.

“No,” Max shakes his head.

“When will you?”

“Soon.”

That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.

One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.

(That's what he told himself last year, too.)

“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”

You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.

2023

“Should I break up with Kelly?”

Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?

“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.

“Nothing,” he lies.

“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.

“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”

I think I love you, [Name].

“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”

Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.

“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”

He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”

“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”

Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.

He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.

Beer

A spot in the engineering team.

Your family

He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?

Max calls his sister that evening.

“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”

“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.

“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.

“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”

“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”

“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.

“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”

“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”

Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.

It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.

“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.

Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.

It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.

Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.

Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.

Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.

Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.

You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.

“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.

He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”

Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.

“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.

“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”

“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”

Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”

Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.

Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.

Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.

“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.

You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.

“Yeah.” A lie.

The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.

Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.

He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.

Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.

“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.

The white shoes.

Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.

“That's not—”

“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”

Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.

“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”

Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.

“That's not for me,” Kelly states.

“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.

“Then who’s it for, Babe?”

Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.

“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.

For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.

“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”

“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”

“Do not even say my daughter's name—”

“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”

Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.

Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.

“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”

She leaves quickly.

Max’s phone buzzes.

you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?

max: yeah

max: i’ll be there soon

you: i’ll wait for u

max: you always do

Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.

Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.

He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.

Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.

you: landed

you: thanks for the jet

you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st

max: ok

max: stay safe

max: your dad will be alright dont worry

you: i hope so

It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.

max: are you okay?

max: just landed in belgium

max: mum and vic says hi

max: hey it's been a week now

max: is your dad okay?

max: im worried

max: call me soon please

max: happy holidays

max: or merry christmas

max: whatever you celebrate there in america

max: yeah i greeted a little too early

max: you didn't answer my call

max: im friends with logan now by the way

max: we talk at times

max: im trying to get him into sim racing

max: maybe it'll help him improve

max: happy holidays

max: i called your cell

max: you know christian just told me something funny

max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager

max: he said you resigned

max: very funny

max: please tell me you didn't

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 imagines #manager!reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33

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fangirl-dot-com · 3 months

Text

🏎Track 9 - Getaway Car

*for the people who voted an update for reputations first, here you go! we can all say thank you to George for getting me in a writing move and inspiring this chapter! sorry for all the lando lovers...he's not redeemed. thank you for reading and I hope this is what you've been waiting for!*

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

“Oh shit. I think I had contact with Leclerc,” you said over the radio as you felt a bump to your back right tyre. In one of your mirrors, you could see a flash of red trailing behind you. Your heart dropped at the thought of ruining Charles’s race, but you kept on going.

There wasn’t much space for you to go any wider. And Checo had been on the other side of the Monegasque. It would have to be dubbed a racing incident, hopefully.

“How’s the car?” your race engineer asked.

You sucked in a deep breath. “It feels fine.”

“Ok. Just keep your head down. There might be a podium if we stay on course.”

Your head gave the slightest nod, even if no one would see it. You still didn’t want to be sole reason that Charles had yet another bad race.

It seemed like the Monegasque’s luck ran out after Monaco. Someone must have sacrificed the rest of the Ferrari season just so that Monaco could be theirs, and it showed. A double DNF in Canada was downright awful, and Spain wasn’t anything to write home about.

He had managed to pick up a couple of points in the sprint race, but that was it.

Canada for you and Logan was a thing of the past. A similar double DNF wasn’t something that you would have liked on your record, but what was done was done. You and Logan were still P1 and P2 in the drivers championship and Lamborghini was leading comfortably.

Spain was a bit better.

The Spanish Grand Prix saw you and Logan on the podium, but Max took the first step. It was a tricky race with you, Logan, and Lando swapping places lap after lap. At one point, Logan had tapped Lando when the British driver tried to barrel down into a turn.

Once it was over, you felt ready to be done with over the top races. You missed the beginning races when your car was able to finish the race with big gaps in front and behind you. The triple header had been grueling, and you were ready for a break. Silverstone didn’t exactly start up any excitement. The media and the atmosphere didn’t seem pleasant.

Your race had been predictable until the very end. You had just gone back into turn 3 when your engineer turned the radio back on.

“Sargeant and Verstappen made contact, virtual safety car. Sargeant needs to retire, Verstappen has dropped down to fifth.”

You wanted to groan. There’s no way that you and Logan had accidentally ruined races for two of your really good friends.

“Who’s the leader and what’s the gap?”

“Norris is currently P1. Piastri is P2. You’re running P3.”

If you could hit your helmet on the steering wheel, you would.

You pressed the radio button again. “And the gap?”

“It is 4.201 seconds. But tyre degradation is bad. Don’t push as hard, just bring it over the line.”

With a huff, you turned your radio off and kept going. When you crossed the checkered flag, you finally felt like you could breathe. There really was no competition who could have taken third from you, but your anxiety was already rising.

Although there wasn’t any tension like there had been, your anxiety grew as you got out of your car. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a flash of bright orange run into his team’s arms. Not wanting to get involved, you leisurely walked over to the Lamborghini team.

Your race engineer gave you a quick hug, and many pats came down on your helmet. However, the person you wanted to be there was nowhere to be seen. As you locked eyes with many of the crew, none were the blue you were looking for.

With a sigh, you took your helmet off and went over to the weighing station. You kept your head down, looking at the numbers so you wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. As you made your way to the cooldown room, George was able to congratulate you.

“Thanks,” you muttered, still not looking him in the eyes.

The Briton sighed. He knew that when he saw Charles pull up in P11 and Max in P5, you and Logan were going to start closing in on yourselves again. It was his job, plus the others, to make sure that you two knew that it was just racing.

Hell, Max was at fault for the tangle with Logan. However, the two of you seemed to take all fault on yourselves. If George ever met the people who had made you and Logan like this, they wouldn’t see the light of day.

George put his hands on your shoulders, finally making you look up at him. His kind, blue eyes melted at the sight of tears in yours.

“It wasn’t yours or Logan’s fault, ok? Max and Charles both know.”

You shrugged. “Sure. That’s what they all say.”

Not wanting to delay getting to the cooldown room, you turned on your heel, out of George’s hands and into the little room. You quietly sat down in the P3 chair, right next to Lando. Your eyes fixated on the screen when they showed what had happened between Logan and Max.

“Aha, thank you Sargeant for that.”

Your eyes widened at the sound of Lando’s laugh and voice. You quicky glanced over, just to see Oscar looking at him the same way.

The Aussie let out a small scoff. “Mate, Max turned into him.”

Lando rolled his eyes. “He shouldn’t have gone up against Max in the first place. If he can’t keep P1 then he doesn’t deserve it. Max did the right thing.”

Was he being for real. You wanted to say something, but you were baffled. Lando’s win was definitely gifted. He couldn’t even hold P1 into turn 1 back in Spain when he was on pole. You just sat still, picking at your fingernails until the official called the three of you back.

Lando jumped out of his chair and sauntered away. Oscar waited until you got close to wrap an arm around you. As the two of you walked, the Aussie’s head dipped down next to your ear.

“It was all Max. Logan had nowhere to go.”

You only nodded in response. The McLaren driver could sense that something was very off. He hoped that Logan was fairing a bit better.

Back at the Lamborghini garage, Logan had locked himself in his drivers room after he got out of his car in the pit lane. His eyes were red as he continuously wiped at the tears that kept falling. Deep down, he knew that it was Max who turned a bit deep, but his head liked to say the opposite.

A knock interrupted his down spiral.

Logan sniffed loudly. “Yeah?”

The door opened slightly and Benny popped his head in. “We’re going to the podium; do you want to come with us to watch your girl?”

Logan sucked in a deep breath. How dare he come in and cry while you probably wanted to celebrate. He quickly shook his head.

“She probably doesn’t need me there.”

Benny sighed as he recalled what George had said on his way back to the Mercedes. When the trainer caught Logan’s eyes, he smiled.

“I don’t think she’s feeling like celebrating at all. How about this: I’ll call for a car so that you and Y/n can get out of here when you’re done with your interviews. I’ll let Michael know that you two need some time.”

Logan didn’t say anything, but he stood up and brought Benny into a hug. He choked on a sob as his friend’s arms wrapped around him.

“It’s going to be just fine kid.”

Logan wiped his eyes one more time as he followed Benny out of his room. He could feel the sad pairs of eyes on him, reminding him of Canada after his DNF. It kind of reminded him about his time at Williams, but the smiles made it better. At the other team, all he got where sighs of disappointment and frustrations.

When he made it to the media pen, he kept his cap low on his face. What he didn’t realize was that Max was standing next to him while he gave his interview.

The Dutchman has seen Logan come up to stand next to him, so he kept one ear open. Logan shuffled on his feet as the lady asked the first question.

“Logan, you were having a fantastic race. What happened?”

A sigh escaped before he answered. “Well, Max and I went for a battle and we both went a bit wide. There really wasn’t room for me to go anywhere, but I should have gone a bit wider to have tried to not cause the collision.”

Max wanted to smack him for thinking that he could have avoided it.

The lady pressed on. “So do you think that Verstappen is at fault.”

The American shrugged. “At the end of the day, we’re both drivers that want a win. When you go wheel to wheel, you need to expect some hard moves and be ready for them. I just wasn’t ready and I dealt with the consequences.”

“Your teammate was able to score a podium. Is that a positive you can take from today?”

A smile rose on his face at the thought of you. “Yes. I can speak for the team when I say I’m very proud of what Y/n accomplished today. Even with the bit of bumping into turn 1 at the beginning with Charles, she managed well.”

The interview wrapped up quickly after that, making Logan turn to leave. Once he was out of the pen, he felt a hand land on his shoulder. He slowly turned around and was faced with a concerned Max.

The Dutchman asked, “Are you ok, Logan?”

The blond had a sheepish grin, almost borderline uncomfortable. “Yeah, I’m ok.”

Max wasn’t convinced.

“It wasn’t your fault, Logan. You need to know that.”

“Oh look, Y/n is texting me. Better check out what she needs. Bye Max.”

“Logan.”

“I have to get going! See you at Silverstone.”

“You’re being unfair.”

Max’s last sentence died out as he watched the younger round the corner out of sight. He let out a groan as he rubbed his hand down his face. If Logan wasn’t going to listen, he’d have to corner him again.

The Dutchman didn’t want to do that, but Logan left him with no choice. He had to call the big guns.

You were currently rushing to lot 2 where Logan had said he would be. Your eyes landed on a convertible, navy Porsche. Logan’s blond hair shone in the lighting of the late evening. When you saw him wave, you quickly made your way over.

As you got closer, Logan leaned over the passenger seat and opened your door. You rolled your eyes as you sat down.

“What a gentleman.”

He smirked. “Only for you darlin’.”

Your arm reached out and turned up the radio as Logan put the car into gear. It didn’t take long before you two were out of the lot and on the main road. Your hair whipped around you as you sang along to the radio. Logan would glance at you often, just glad to see a smile on your face. He even tried to hit a high note, which made you burst into giggles.

You didn’t know where Logan was headed, but it seemed like he knew as he turned off the road and onto a back one. It didn’t take long before he parked the car in front of a park. The lake behind the grass reflected the reds and yellows of the sunset.

Logan took this opportunity to place his arm behind you and gently pull you in. You let out a content sigh as your head rested on his chest.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there at the podium,” he apologized as his fingers twirled your hair around them. He wasn’t looking at you as his eyes were cast at the steering wheel. Your fingers began to draw shapes on his chest.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I’m glad you weren’t there. Lando was insufferable. He said some things.”

Logan sat up slightly. “Like what?”

You chewed on your lip, not wanting to say. “He said thank you for hitting Max, and that you shouldn’t have tried to fight for P1 if you couldn’t keep it.”

The blond was silent for a moment.

“At least he said thank you.”

You sat up all the way and turned to look at him. “Logan Hunter Sargeant!”

“What?” a smile was on his face, letting you know that he was teasing. “I’m just going to team up with Max, and we’re going to win at Silverstone.”

Your eyes looked down and landed on your phone which was blowing up with messages from your group chat.

“Speaking of Max.”

You and Logan read through the messages quickly before replying.

You put your phone back down before turning to face him.

“Think we should head back?”

“Yeah, or your ice cream might melt.”

Before Logan went to shift the gear, you pulled on his shirt and brought him into a kiss. Behind your lips, he sighed as he leaned in a bit more. Your hands drifted to his shoulders while his rested on your hips.

You would have leaned in more if it weren’t for the stick shift in the middle. When it pressed against your side, you disconnected your lips from his. Logan let out a soft whine and tried to lean back in. You put your finger up to his lips to press him back.

“Nothing good starts in a get away car baby.”

Logan turned and thumped his head on the steering wheel. “You did not just quote Taylor Swift at me for wanting to kiss you a bit more.”

You smirked. “Ice cream is waiting.”

“You and your ice cream woman.”

Logan quickly backed out and whipped the car around. The drive to the hotel wasn’t as far as you thought it was as. Logan pulled up to the front, got out, and rounded to your side to open your door. This time you didn’t tease him and gladly took his hand.

Logan went over the details with the chauffer before he was back at your side, leading you through the entrance.

You two thought you would have a bit more time before Max and Charles showed up. However, when the elevator opened to your floor, you weren’t expecting them, Lewis, George, and Oscar to be sitting by your door.

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, you guys are here early.”

At the sound of your voice, the five of them sat up, eye wide at being caught. George scratched his head, Lewis looked at the ground, and Oscar smiled sheepishly.

Charles bit his lip before holding a bag out. “Ice cream?”

You took the bag from him as Logan swiped his card. “Ice cream.”

Logan shouted from inside the room. “How long have you been here?”

Max rubbed his face. “Maybe thirty minutes?”

“My ice cream better not be melted Verstappen.”

“Your ice cream? I think Charles brough enough for me too.”

“Get your own Sargeant.”

“Are they always like this?”

“Welcome to the club Oscar.”

lamborghini_racing has posted

liked by sargeantgirlie, venus2, presidentlogan, and 2,038,567 others

lamborghini_racing wasn't the result we thought we'd get, but it's better than nothing. the bees are ready for Silverstone 💪🐝

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lambo_duo logan, you did nothing wrong! I hope you know that we're still cheering for you!!

sargstappen I hope this isn't the end of Logan and max's friendship :(

leclercsdaughter I don't think it it

venus2 sorry team, we'll get it next time

phoenix95 OH YEAHHHH LET'S GO TEAM - THE BRITISH BETTER BE SCARED BEFORE WE RECREATE 1776 RAWWRRRR 🦅

lewishamilton I actually am scared now

georgerussell63 same.

usaf1 let's get Norris on his home turf 😤

ln4fan this team has som incompetent drivers who need to be replaced (I'm looking at sargeant)

logan&co literally who asked you

lestappenlove bring it on 😈

phoenix95 has posted

liked by charles_leclerc, y/n.nation, LEC, and 1,403,286 others

phoenix95 totally destroyed them at mario kart 😈

tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, lewishamilton, oscarpiastri, and venus2

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loscarland glad to see Oscar has been adopted by this group ☺️

y/n.nation nothing but a girl, her friends, and some lec ice cream

americanf1duo can't wait to obliterate them in England

maxverstappen1 I WANT A REMATCH

venus2 I think you're just a sore loser

maxverstappen1 how was I supposed to know that George is awful at mario kart

georgerussell63 HEY 🤨

sargstappen233 I'm glad to see that nothing has changed 😮‍💨

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlm @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicore @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-su @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

708 notes · View notes

kingthunder · 5 months

Text

I saw a few of those "bg3 characters driving a car" headcanons and decided to do one myself for fun.

Lae'zel: She learned how to drive on the opposite side of the road from everyone else and her instincts are all wrong for her current location, but back home she's an excellent driver with a spotless driving record. She actually follows the service schedule in the car manual. She gets incensed at people who don't maintain their vehicle properly or who disobey road rules. Her car is immaculately clean. She would love to speed a motorcycle down one of those desert highways with no speed limit, but she's never gotten the opportunity and knows it's too reckless besides. But she wants to.

Karlach: She's had a motorcycle for ages and is a skilled if aggressive driver. However, she only recently learned how to drive a car. She is very enthusiastic about it and always volunteers to drive even though she's not very good yet. She's one of those people that do driving "pranks" like swerving back and forth to make people shriek/laugh, or doing "3, 2, 1 BLASTOFF" and gunning it. Could easily be provoked into an impromptu street race. Drives way too far on empty or with the check engine light on.

Shadowheart: Drives stick so that no one else can drive her car. It's a beat up old station wagon with a busted tail light and looks like shit on the outside, but inside she turned it into a goth mobile with like black velvet seat covers and stuff. She named the car but she won't tell you what. She has an air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror that smells like night orchids. She's a perfectly good boring driver with nothing to note about it UNTIL one day a cop tries to pull her over for her busted tail light and she hits the gas and pulls out all these street racing moves that you had no idea she was capable of and shakes the cop. She'll let you pick the music but if she doesn't like it her silent disapproval is so withering that you voluntarily change it to something she does like.

Astarion: Never got a driver's license and isn't about to get one now. Passenger princess who likes to control the radio but his taste in music sucks. He makes funny mean comments about other drivers and pedestrians. He'll complain if you ask him to fill the gas tank but he'll do it; you're paying for it, though. Actually pretty fun to go on a road trip with because he doesn't care about stuff like "making good time" and he's up for stopping anywhere that looks like it might be entertaining.

Gale: Never got a driver's license because he was always too busy with his studies to care and his mom drove him around and/or did all his errands for him anyway. He's real good at maps though and likes to be helpful by being the navigator. He's the smartest man in the world but he's completely stymied by a gas pump; you're better off pumping the gas yourself and sending him into the gas station for snacks. He always manages to conjure a full meal out of convenience food, somehow, and he's really good at feeding you while you drive.

Wyll: He saved up and bought his own fixer-upper car after getting kicked out of the house as a teenager. Good driver in general. People always think he would make a good designated driver, but actually he likes drinking socially and will politely decline requests to be the DD unless there's no one else available. Sometimes when he's having a bad day he blasts music really loud and finds a deserted area to just fuckin tear ass down as fast as he can go (he'll only do this alone and doesn't tell anyone about it). Never lets you pay for gas even if you offer. Will pick up hitchhikers.

Halsin: Has been driving the same car since 1973. Drives that specific car really well. If you gave him a modern car he would have no idea what anything on the dashboard does. Honestly, he prefers to walk or bike anyway.

Jaheira: Has a fuck-off huge SUV full of empty cans and wrappers from her kids. Absolute maniac of a driver who tailgates and speeds with no regard for road signs or lane markings. She is going to GET where she is GOING and gods help you if you get in the way.

Minsc: Failed the driving test three times and just gets rides from Jaheira. This does not bother him in the slightest. He tells you that Boo can drive vehicles you've never even heard of.

Minthara: Has run someone over on purpose.

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maxlarens · 3 months

Note

I got a lot to say so it might be long,

starting with, thank you for the Charles smau and the Lando fic <3

it took me time to choose an emoji lol but I've been doing an internship and time goes by way too quickly, but I decided to go for the strawberry one 🍓

and since you said you wanted to write for driver! reader, and that she was very intense about driving, maybe you can write something about her racing while she's sick/not feeling well but she still wins the race

woo hi again!!! literally no big deal! i hope ur internship is going well, it’s awesome that you’re doing one!! but yeah literally real life is always the priority as much as i’d also like to spend all my time on here lol. but anyway yay the strawberry is super cute 🍓🥺

and YES lol driver!reader is consuming my thoughts right now. i have other things i should be writing instead of this but i smashed this out in a few days😭 i decided not to make it a win because i have a thing brewing for driver!readers first win and i didn’t want to use up all my ideas for that. anyway!!! as usual thank u for the ask and pls enjoyyy 🤗

OP: extraordinary machine

pairing(s): oscar piastri x mercedes driver!reader

summary: you push yourself to your limits. (also sorry i simply don't know enough technical terms about racing for this to be fully accurate but i hope it works)

word count: 3.4k+

Here is a fact— you’ve got a fever of 39.4 degrees.

Here is another, indisputable fact— you’re racing in Imola today.

The fever had come on overnight after a persistent tickle in your throat all weekend. A mildly sore throat had turned rapidly to a snotty nose, full body chills and sweat pouring off you like you’d just run a marathon. You’re wearing a puffer jacket over your racing suit and it’s twenty-nine degrees out. You feel freezing, you feel delirious, and you’re eating Sour Patch Kids by the handful to keep the sugar rush going. Your race engineer, Rachel, keeps telling you that it’s okay if you can’t race. George can step in, I promise. You keep telling her I’m fine. I’m fine. I can race. But the expression on her face says she doesn’t believe you.

You’re telling practically everyone who’ll listen that you’re getting in that fucking car today. Rachel, George, your mum who keeps calling. Lewis keeps looking at you like you’re about to keel over and die and you want to scream at him you did this! Brazil 2015. You had a fever. You got on the podium. If I can’t do this and you can, what does that mean? But you don’t because that’s your 39.4-degree fever talking and this isn’t about being better than Lewis. It’s about knowing without a doubt that you can still get in that car and race your ass off.

Your phone keeps buzzing with texts from Susie that reassure you that you’d be disappointing no one at all if you had to let George take over this race. You’re not letting down women everywhere and you’re not letting down the team. I know Susie, you keep saying, but I’m still racing.

You know you’ve got to convince Toto when Rachel starts a hurried conversation with George and he starts grabbing his fireproofs like it’s a sure thing he’ll be driving in your place. Bundled up in your coat like it’s the middle of winter, you stomp over to Toto’s office and barge in.

“I’m racing,” you tell him without any preamble.

His head snaps to look at you, expression only mildly surprised— not that you would even notice if you didn’t spend so much time around him. He gives you a once over, eyes lingering pointedly on your jacket and then he raises his eyebrows, “It is twenty-nine degrees outside.”

You suck your teeth in frustration, “I know. The car will be hot. I can race.”

He frowns.

You plead, “Toto. Do not take me out of that car. I can do this.”

He shakes his head, “I can see you sweating from here. You’re not well.”

You shake your head frantically, ignoring how your vision starts spinning, “Let me race. If I fuck up you can put George in the car for Monaco. If I fuck up you can even replace me. I don’t care. Just let me drive today.”

Toto’s face pinches in the way it does when he’s considering something, you can see cogs turning in his head as he evaluates what you’ve said and decides if he should listen to it.

He sighs, “I am not putting that kind of ultimatum on you,” your heart stutters and stops in your chest, and you hold your breath, “Okay. Against my better judgement, I will let you race today.”

You let out an audible breath, it edges out into a sob that makes your aching body curl into itself. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes for a moment to suppress the urge to give in to your fever. It would be easier to give up, it would be easier to let George take your seat for the race so you could crawl into bed and cry the fever out. But none of this has ever been easy for you. You’ve fought tooth and nail to get here, you won’t forfeit a race and let people say you took the easy way out.

You look up. Toto looks concerned.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“You won’t.”

You practically stumble onto the asphalt before the national anthem, passing your coat off to Rachel while your trainer wipes your forehead with a towel as if you’ve just finished a full-body workout. Your shoulders feel tense, you can’t stand up straight without shuddering so you’re hunched over awkwardly hoping it doesn’t come off looking too strange.

People are still milling about, setting things up while the drivers assemble. You don’t really notice on account of the fever state you’re in, but you end up standing between the McLaren boys. You must brush against Oscar because he looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed, mouth set in a line and his eyes wide like a puppy dog. You get lost in them a little— because of the fever. Definitely.

“Dude,” Oscar says to you, “You’re really hot.”

On your other side, Lando breaks into a fit of laughter. You frown, your brain trying the puzzle through the sentence. You feel foggy, your eyes feel heavy. You need more Sour Patch Kids, or a shot of espresso, or five Red Bulls. Max could swing it for you.

Oscar leans past you and swats at Lando’s shoulder, “She’s burning up, stupid.”

Lando’s laughter pauses, and he says seriously, “Oh shit.”

Suddenly, you’re being twisted around and you’re wincing at the contact on your shoulder that makes it ache even more. Lando puts a hand on your forehead and then immediately rips it away.

“Eugh. You’re sweaty.”

The back of Oscar’s hand replaces it. You twist away, brushing it off.

“You’ve got a fever,” he tells you, his voice thick with concern for you, “Have you told anyone? Does Toto know? Lewis?”

Instead of answering you press a hand over your eyes and crack your neck, trying to work through some of the stiffness in your back. You roll your shoulders and stand up as straight as possible, pushing through that aching, sickly feeling that runs through your whole body. When you finally drag your hand from your face— a thin sheen of sweat coming with it— Oscar is staring at you with a deep-set frown on his mouth. At his shoulder, Lando looks at you with a markedly less severe, but still concerned, expression.

“I’m fine, Oscar,” you insist.

You’re not. He knows you’re not. It doesn’t matter, you don’t want to seem weak. Not barely thirty minutes before the race. You can’t have either of them thinking you’d be easy for an overtake or that you’ll back out of a fight first. Off the track, fine— you’ve been vulnerable and honest with both of them at times. On the track is a different story. This is Formula One. You’re not here to make friends. They are not here to make friends.

“Mm,” Oscar hums, “Pretty sure you’re not.”

“You’re sweating bullets,” Lando adds, “Can see it from here.”

Something white-hot and pissed off flares up your spine. Oscar is not this kind of person, even on track; but the suspicion that he’s just trying to eliminate you as competition rises anyway. You think it because if the situation were flipped, you’d be weighing the pros and cons of having a sick driver on the track. Their weaknesses, what it means if they’re distracted. It doesn’t make you a good person, but you’re already pretty sure you aren’t one.

“I am fine,” you bite.

Oscar’s expression drops. Into something not quite offended… accepting, maybe? Resigned? It closes off to you, is what you mean. That’s fine, you’re trying to close yourself off to him. You’re re-drawing a line that you’ve been crossing without a thought for at least two years now. You’re not here to make googly eyes at Oscar and let him put his hand on your fever-ridden forehead and have him reprimand out-of-line, so-called professionals for you. You’re here to get in that car every Sunday and put your life on the line for a shiny trophy and fucking glory. Even if you’ve got a fever. Even if you’ve got a weird crush on Oscar Piastri.

“I’m racing,” you add in a different tone, feeling as if you’ve been a bit harsh on a well-meaning Oscar, even if you mean what you’re thinking.

Oscar nods, and says, “Okay,” in a way that really means, ‘If you say so, then it is’.

In the car, on the tarmac, sitting in your starting grid position, you’re shitting bricks.

Your cheeks are squeezed tight into your helmet, you can feel sweat, slick and soaking through your balaclava. Your arms hurt, your legs hurt, your ass hurts where it’s pressed into the seat. You’re not crying, but your mouth— hidden away by your helmet— is open like you’re about to. Set into a grimace that you breathe raggedly out of. Toto says something over the radio before the lights go out, you don’t hear it. You’re too busy regretting how earnestly you’d begged him to let you race. It would have been better if George had taken over. It might have been better if you’d passed out during the national anthem so you really had no choice but to sit it out. No one could say you weren’t committed to this sport if that had happened. They’d have plenty to say about women and their weak constitutions though.

You’re on autopilot when the lights go out. One second you’re freaking out like it’s your first time in a car, the next second everything is fading into background noise and you’re fighting a Ferrari and a McLaren for your original grid position. Twenty of you tear down the straight to turn two and you find yourself slotting easily into what you think is P4. Ferrari— not the same one— in front of you. Your mirrors reveal the McLaren behind you. It’s Oscar, you’re sure. You can tell by the way he sticks to your ass. Every nudge of the car you make he makes with you.

You press the radio button, “That Piastri behind?”

Crackle, “Yeah.”

“Knew it. He’s up my butt, Rach.”

“Okay. Go faster then. Not sure what to tell you.”

You make a face. You weren’t looking for sarky advice, you were trying to commiserate. You press the button and make a vaguely mocking neh-neh noise that gets a laugh and then radio silence because you’re supposed to be fucking concentrating. Which, okay, fair.

You press the throttle, done with trying to manage your tyres for the moment and taking Rachel’s comment as permission. You tear away from Oscar, stopping his fight to overtake you through the chicane in its tracks. You start slowly gaining on the Ferrari in front of you, its red rear wing growing closer and closer.

“Sainz in front?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yup,” Rachel confirms before rattling off some lap times when you ask for them.

By lap thirty-something, you’re on Sainz’s ass like Oscar was on yours. You’re fighting him through every chicane, threatening him on the straights and generally behaving in a way that you know for a fact is putting him on edge. But Carlos isn’t giving up P3 without a fight.

A safety car goes out around lap forty, and you pit. Everyone ahead of you does as well. Oscar doesn’t, Oscar is lucky to have gone in earlier. Rachel tells you he’d made up four places after being forced to box for some tyre issue. You feel a strange mix of pride and jealousy swirl in your chest as you all file into a discordant line behind the safety car.

Verstappen leads the pack, as per usual. Then Oscar, Sainz and you. Leclerc is behind you, then Lando. You’re in P4, right where you started and right where you’ve been fucking sitting the entire race so far. twenty-five laps to at least make it onto the podium. Then you’ll be happy. Or not quite happy, you’d need pole for that. Content. You’d be content.

Max starts weaving. The safety car goes off and Max keeps you all ready and waiting until the exact millisecond that he decides the race can properly begin again. You hate when he does this— you know that’s exactly why. Eventually, finally, he gets going.

You have to run defence like crazy for a few laps to keep Leclerc behind you until everything is warmed up. The gap widens as you drive. At some point, you stop worrying about the Monégasque so much and focus your attention on car fifty-five like your life depends on it. The laps fly by as time ticks on. Twenty-five to go, twenty, fifteen, ten. You’re back on Sainz’s rear wheel, a gap of 0.2 to 0.3 that’s been consistent throughout this last stretch of the race. You’re watching him like a hawk, waiting for the smallest slip-up to take advantage of. Somewhere you can push, somewhere he’s weak. It’s hard— he’s covering all his bases. Not giving you an inch so you can’t take a mile.

You’re closing in on sixty-four laps— with only three to go— when he gives you that fucking inch. It’s in the first chicane. His wheel locks up, and he jerks the car slightly the wrong way, something like that. You get in his space and you push and he backs out first. You press down on the throttle and rocket past him, shouting FUCK! FUCK YES! to yourself.

P3. P3. God, you hope it’s P3.

You press the talk button, “Rach?”

“Yes, P3,” she barks, “Fucking, focus. Three laps to go.”

Those last three laps of Imola are some of the hardest of your life. Defending against Carlos is a task, of course, but it’s not even that. The sickness starts to creep back into your awareness as the adrenaline that had hit its peak during the overtake starts to subside. Two laps to go and you’re remembering the fever again. The sweat soaking your hair and streaking down the back of your neck. Your whole body is on fire and it aches everywhere. It feels like someone has taken a sledgehammer to the inside of your skull. You want so badly to close your eyes and drift away to sleep, but the car is flying through the air demanding your attention with the way it thuds against the track. You’ve got one lap to go and Carlos is on you like white on rice. You can’t afford to make a mistake until you’re firmly over that finish line.

So you don’t. You grit your teeth and you refuse.

Carlos is downright reckless in the last chicane, he tries to bait you by moving to one side and pushing but you’re not going to fall for something like that even if you’re near delirious from the 39.4-degree fever. Though surely it’s higher now, the car temp can’t be helping. You hardly realise you’ve crossed the finish line because you’re thinking so hard about how lightheaded you feel. On instinct, you slow down to a safe speed as Oscar’s McLaren enters your vision, but you think your toes have pins and needles and there’s some feeling tingling up into your shoulders. You blink hard and take a long sip of water so you can make it to the pits before your head starts to spin.

Crackle, “Where are you going? That was P3.”

“Huh?” you realise you’re following the other drivers instead of heading into the pits where you’re supposed to go, “Shit. Sorry.”

You edge back as carefully as you can, avoiding other cars that pass by, lucky you’ve not overshot too far so you can turn into the pits and park your car in front of the P3 sign without going around the entire track. That would be embarrassing. Or that would be more embarrassing than how disgusting you’re going to look when you take your helmet and balaclava off.

Toto, Rachel and a few of your engineers are there to meet you at the barricade when you clamber out of the car, unsteady on your feet. Rachel’s eyebrows are furrowed as she tries her best to smile at you, trying to put on a brave face even though you can tell she’s concerned you’re going to keel over. You brace yourself with a hand against the gate and tear your helmet off, then your balaclava. You’ve never been so fast to put a cap on your head, trying to cover the sweaty mess that is your hair right now.

“That was phenomenal work,” Rachel says, reaching to put a hand on your burning hot bicep, “You look fucking terrible, though.”

You suck in a ragged breath and you nod in agreement, trying to keep the black tinging your vision from taking over completely.

“Get her something to drink,” you hear Toto bark, though it comes to your ears, muffled and staticky.

You’re fine. You’re fine. Until you’re not and your sweaty hand is slipping against the guardrail and your vision is fading into darkness and you’re falling face first into a metal railing. And, and, someone’s got their arm around your middle and you’re not on the ground with your face in the asphalt. You blink, hot tears— from what you assume is exhaustion— burning your eyelids. The arm around your middle is covered in something orange and black… Oscar. It’s Oscar who’s got you propped up, held firm into his body so your legs don’t collapse underneath you. The two of you sway and stumble for a second as you gain your footing back, your vision returning to normal, the buzzing in your ears going away.

“You’re good,” he breathes, “I’ve got you.”

You ignore the shiver that runs down your spine, you attribute it to your current state.

You remember the cameras that are on all of you right now. You try not to look panicked as you step away from him. You try to do it calmly and not frantically like you so want to. Toto has some electrolyte drink held out right in your face and you take it, chugging half of it straight away while you swivel around to face Oscar. You nod, feeling slightly better, but gripping the guardrail tight so as not to repeat earlier.

“Thanks,” you try a smile, but it’s just turning into a grimace because you feel like shit.

Oscar shakes his head, “Don’t mention it.”

“Great driving out there.”

His eyebrow goes up, touching the curl of his hair that peeks out from his cap.

“You’re kidding?” he says, tone laced with amusement.

You frown, which is much easier, “No. You drove great.”

He makes a face like ‘yes, obviously’, but somehow does it in a humble and endearing way that you find you like a little too much. It leaves you confused as to his point.

“No,” he scoffs, “Okay, yes. What I mean is that you just got P3 with a raging fever.”

You purse your lips, countering, “You don’t know I have a fever.”

His tongue darts out to wet his top lip, hiding the small smile that threatens on his face.

He shrugs, “Bit obvious, unfortunately.”

You roll your eyes. You think what he means is it’s a bit obvious because you look like absolute death. There’s probably sweat rolling off you in buckets, your cap is jammed on your head and your hair is probably sticking out at crazy angles. There were dark circles under your eyes before you left for the track this morning, they’re probably ten times worse now. He might also mean it’s obvious from the way your skin is burning hot, like touching a radiator in the middle of winter. Or, perhaps, the way you’d passed out into his arms a few minutes earlier.

You suck your teeth, “Well. I told you I was racing today.”

Oscar nods, biting the inside of his lip, “Yeah. You did.”

There’s more that neither of you are saying. A conversation that you’re trying desperately to have with prolonged eye contact, small little smiles and breaths out through the nose. You think it might be ‘I’m proud of you’ or ‘You’re very impressive and I’m going a little bit crazy about it’. That’s how you feel at least, somewhere in between the fever chills and the urge you’re suppressing to curl into a ball on the tarmac. This is okay, you think. You don’t have to be Oscar’s sworn enemy just because you’re both chasing the win. You can let him worry about you, but make sure he understands he can’t stop you from taking the things that you want. You can say things that mean other things and Oscar can smile at you like it’s something private for just the two of you.

You can be happy with that. Or not quite happy. Content.

🏎️ song inspo (fiona apple my Beloved) -> https://open.spotify.com/track/5h9Iek7Hp9wayRt7fBp7Ab?si=9PnuH5CDSC-qTurLPGiTwg

💫 fill out this form if you want to be added to my tag list: @clowngirlsstuff @leclercsluvs @c-losur3 @mael1pastry @papayamusha @mvk1ma

#🍓anon #oscar piastri #f1 #formula 1 #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x driver!reader #oneshots:op81 #driver!reader

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formulawolff · 4 months

Text

v. heat of the moment - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.9k

warnings: cursing, some mentions of misogyny, a physical altercation, slight physical injury, teasing, banter, YEARNING, there is lots of yearning, toto wanting to rail the absolute shit out of you, power imbalances, age gap, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

“you ready?”

james peers down, towering over the car as the pit crew flurries around, prepping for the race.

you shrug, flipping your visor, “is it too patriotic of me to say that i was born ready?”

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“well i’ll do you one better,” the team principal leans over the car, slapping your helmet a couple of times, “go get ‘em tiger.”

“way to hype me up.”

“i think another podium is in the cards,” james’ face hardens, the intensity of the race setting in, “you think you could get us on the podium again?”

“i don’t know about first. they don’t refer to max as the dutch assassin for nothing,” at least you were realistic, “but i think i could place second or third.”

“i think we should aim for first.”

underneath the helmet, the corners of your lips curl into a grin, “i think so too.”

“i believe in you,” james’ hand finds yours, shaking it, “we all believe in you.”

the authenticity of his statement sends a slight wave of distress washing over you.

ever since the night in jeddah, your loyalty was beginning to shift.

you were starting to seriously consider toto’s offer.

although you made the verbal commitment to james that you would remain with williams until 2026, a certain team principal was starting to tug at your heartstrings. of course, this team principal didn’t have to try very hard.

even the slightest smile was enough to send you spiraling.

the turmoil was enough to keep you up at night, tossing and turning. there was really no legitimate reason you could give james on your departure, other than it was your teenage dream to drive for mercedes.

you would have to lie through your teeth and attempt to put on this facade that you had always wanted to be with mercedes. you just happened to settle for williams.

fuck, that really made you the asshole.

now, here you were.

day-dreaming about a certain team principal, completely on autopilot.

yet, that quickly faded as you glance up, watching as the lights blink, that green hue gleaming in the sunlight.

it was go time.

now or never.

the roar of the engines is nearly deafening as it fills the track, blood roaring in your ears as you step on the gas.

for the australian grand prix, you were fifth on the grid. it wasn’t a terrible spot, as you had the opportunity to overtake a few places, which would earn you a podium.

behind you, was george russell from mercedes, lewis hamilton in seventh. ahead were max, sergio, charles, and carlos.

overtaking the ferrari boys would be a challenge, but you were more than willing to accept it. if you were able to just overtake carlos, you would be content with fourth.

even if you weren’t on the podium, those points would be significant.

closing in on carlos, adrenaline pumped in your veins as your sucked in a breath, james voice flooding your ears on the radio.

“you got this. go for it.”

the moment you’re about to step on the gas, a horrendous scraping noise sounds to your left.

george made contact with your car, sending the two of you flying towards the tarmac. you skid along, bracing for impact as you barrel towards the wall.

although it was merely seconds, it felt like eternity.

for a moment, your field of vision goes black.

yet, you blink, the sun so vivid as it shines through your visor. shaking your head, you groan as you clamber out of the car, scrambling to your feet.

swiveling your helmet, you make out george.

that’s when everything started to become tinged with a crimson hue.

“you bastard!”

“oh?” george taunts you, “this was my fault?”

“of course it fucking was!” you march over to the british driver, “learn how to fucking drive the damn car!”

“learn how to overtake somebody else and we would have never had this fucking problem!” george retaliates, his voice raising with every word.

you just scoff, deciding to let it go.

accidents happen. unfortunately for you, it was just part of the job. it may have cost you a podium, gave your car significant damage, and ruined your day, but you had to let it go. it was just a bad day at the office.

well, more like a fucking awful shit day at the office.

as you suck in a breath, strolling away from george, he decides to goad you on even further, giving one final retort.

“you should have stuck to nascar! maybe then it would have been easier for you to navigate a bloody track!”

you stop in your tracks, glancing over your shoulder.

“what did you just fucking say?”

“you heard me,” george folds his arms over his chest, “you should have stuck to fucking nascar. maybe then that thick skull of yours would have been able to navigate the track! it’s pretty bloody simple you know, just a few left turns!”

that was the moment when everything truly went dark.

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“do you know how much today cost us?”

james is to your right, massaging his temples. however, you can’t quite decipher the emotions plastered across his features.

was he disappointed? furious? you couldn’t tell.

alex is across from you, chewing on a thumbnail, “i mean, things could have been worse.”

“we literally had to pry her off of him,” james exhales, groaning slightly, “it’s a mess. that’s what it is. a fucking mess.”

“i think you guys are forgetting he started it,” you mumble, pressing an ice pack to your jaw, “he told me i should’ve stuck to nascar. i mean, what would you have done in that moment?”

“walked away? called him a twat or something?” james shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut, “you know i adore you, but you really fucked us over today. my driver getting into a physical altercation with another team was the last thing on my agenda today. yeah, the accident was bad, but that… that was awful.”

“hey,” alex puts his hands up, “at least i didn’t crash my car.”

“fuck off,” you shoot him a glare, “also, i wouldn’t call that an accident. it was more like a little skirmish.”

“you beating his ass wasn’t,” alex points out, his tone laced with a tease, “i gotta admit, that was pretty entertaining to watch.”

“i taught that bitch one thing today. and it’s that you don’t mess with texas,” a laugh bubbles up in your throat, earning a chuckle from alex in response.

“what am i going to do with you two?” although he tries to remain stern, you can see a hint of a smile on james’ face.

“i think i deserve some rest,” raising your arms above your head, you use your hands as a cushion, leaning backwards, “i put in a lot of work today.”

“yeah,” alex nods, “a lot of work beating that brit’s ass.”

“do you think he’s scared of me?”

“i think everyone is,” alex rolls his eyes playfully, “if i was max verstappen, i would be shaking in my boots right now.”

“okay, okay,” james interjects, “enough from you both. we can discuss this further tomorrow. i’m exhausted.”

“you weren’t even the one throwing the punches!” alex tosses his hands up in the air, “if anyone if exhausted, it’s probably our wwe superstar over here!”

“go,” james waves a hand at the two of you, “like i said, we’ll talk more tomorrow. i have to do damage control for the rest of the night. probably well into tomorrow too.”

“i am sorry,” you clear your throat, rising to your feet. you make eye contact with alex, who is still bearing a mischievous grin, “i guess that australian heat just got to me.”

“i cannot take you two seriously right now,” james sighs, “go. get some rest.”

unlike james’ dismissal, you did not have to be told that twice.

after george’s snide remarks, you caved under the heat of the moment. with emotions running high, you sprung forward at the british driver, shoving him a couple of times. he goaded you on, taunting you to “actually do something about it.”

of course, you actually did something about it.

what could you say? it was the american way.

there was no way in hell you were going to let him off the hook. especially after he demanded that you “go back to nascar.” those comments were completely unnecessary and uncalled for. anyone could admit that.

so, in response, you knocked him to the ground, throwing a few good punches in before a safety crew member pried you off of him.

the little “skirmish” with the mercedes driver had taken the formula one world by storm.

all over social media, there were mixed reactions. many of the comments praised you for not taking anyone’s shit. the others blasted your character, questioning if women truly belonged in formula one if they “let their emotions get the best of them.”

numerous fans called for your resignation from williams driving, claiming that you had no right to be behind the wheel of a car.

the fia claimed they would be launching an investigation to determine if there were to be punishments for both drivers. mercedes put out a statement that they would be “thoroughly addressing the incident that occurred with one of their drivers.”

meanwhile, williams racing had yet to comment on the matter, remaining silent.

personally, you felt that the sheer embarrassment from your outburst was enough. you would be the topic of discussion for weeks. your personality, likeness, and every somewhat terrible thing you had ever done would be dissected throughout reddit forums, through tik toks, and through instagram posts.

surely the fia would remain merciful, but you had your doubts.

pulling up the hood on your sweatshirt, you make your way in the direction of your motorhome.

at least that would provide you a space away from all of the chaos that ensued after the race.

in your pocket, your phone buzzes.

reluctantly, you fish it out, anticipating your name to be headlining yet another article. instead, it’s a message from mr. wolff.

i’m on my way over. be there in five.

oh fuck.

toto wolff was the last person you wanted to see.

especially after today.

flinging open the door, you trudge into the space, dumping your belongings on the counter. making your way to your room, you flop on the bed, resisting the urge to scream into your pillow.

not even a minute later, you hear a familiar voice filling the motorhome.

“don’t tell me you’re hiding from — oh, there you are.”

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

“i think we should.”

his tone is far different than you anticipated. you expected him to be furious, dropping the offer entirely.

rather, his words are quiet, laced with a softness as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing a tender hand on your back.

“rough day, huh?”

“rough is not even the word to describe the absolute shitshow that was today,” your head is still buried in the pillow, your voice muffled, “you have no idea how disappointed i am in myself.”

“i’m sure,” toto inhales sharply, “i hope you know that what occurred today does not change anything. actually, it’s convinced me that you deserve that mercedes seat even more than i initially thought.”

“toto,” you lift your head up, “i literally physically assaulted another driver. a driver who happens to belong on your team. i don’t deserve that seat.”

“well it simply proved to me that you’re more than willing to stand up for what you believe in,” he counters, that gentleness dissolving into firmness, “you don’t take anyone’s shit. i need that energy brought into mercedes.”

“i think if you gave me that seat, george would actually shit himself.”

“don’t fret baby,” a hand finds your hair, fingers smoothing out some strands, “i would be your mediator.”

“are you sure you still want to offer me that seat? do you know how much the media is going to ridicule you?”

“i think i have been ridiculed enough in my time at mercedes,” he shrugs, “what’s a little bit more? if it means i have you, nothing else will matter.”

shifting your weight, you sit up, scooting over a little so that you could be next to toto. leaning your head on his shoulder, you nuzzled into his dress shirt, his arm instinctively wrapping around your frame, “today just fucking sucked.”

“i can only imagine baby,” light kisses pepper your temple, trailing all over the bridge of your nose and the apples of your cheeks, “i could help take your mind off things.”

“i’m sure you could,” your heart skips a beat as his hand squeezes your thigh, “i wish you could just make it all go away.”

“i could definitely do that, sweet girl,” his hand inches further and further up your thigh, fingers tracing circles, “you want me to take care of you?”

yet, as his mouth hovers around your ear, a flash of pain seeps into your skull, causing you to wince.

“fuck.”

“what’s wrong?”

“my head hurts,” you whimper, “after i hit the wall, i think i may have passed out for a second. everything went black, i couldn’t see anything.”

“and you didn’t have a medic clear you?” toto presses, and you can’t help but notice the inflections of worry, “baby, you should have had someone look at you.”

“i was more focused on other things,” you mumble, the pain beginning to increase, “fuck.”

“you’re probably just a little banged up from the crash. if your symptoms continue through the morning, we’ll get you checked out.”

“we?”

“well,” he pauses, biting his tongue, “i would say i would take you to our medic, but i think that would raise some eyebrows. make sure you see someone, okay?”

before you know it, toto is to his feet, towering over you on the edge of the bed, “where are your pajamas?”

“you don’t have to–”

"i want to,” he interrupts, “let me help, okay? you don’t have to do everything yourself, you know that?”

“but i’m used to–”

“and i need you to know that while i’m here, you do not have to worry about that anymore. i’m going to take care you. anything that you need, you’ll get,” he brushes a lock of hair away from your forehead.

you melt, nearly collapsing under his touch as he caresses your cheek. wrapping your arms around his thigh, you nuzzle into his hip.

meanwhile, the team principal is about to crumple to his knees at the sight of you. fuck, you were so cute. why were you so goddamn cute?

even after assaulting one of his drivers, you were still pretty damn cute. he was not lying when he said it made you more attractive.

he needed someone to be that passionate about their team, their driving, and their beliefs. he needed someone who could take a stand against another driver without backing down. he needed someone who didn’t give a fuck.

he needed you.

fuck, he needed you.

in the moments the two of you were apart, he could barely process his thoughts. you were consuming his mind whole. he clung to your words, your voice, so sweet and soft, flooding his ears when you weren’t around. he found himself checking his phone more frequently, in attempts to see if you had responded.

lately, it seemed every time he thought about racing, his mind brought him to you.

he was addicted to you.

“how about some head?”

your inquiry takes him by surprise, his jaw clenching, heart racing, “oh? does my baby need some?”

“it may help ease my headache,” you glance upwards, the team principal fighting back a groan as filthy fantasies begin to creep into his thoughts.

the sight of you looking up at him like that? with those lashes framing those stunning eyes? with your lips looking oh so plush?

fuck, toto felt his knees nearly buckle.

there was no denying he wanted you. he craved you. often.

he desperately ached to feel you, to know what you felt like as he made you his. he yearned to feel that perfect pussy on his tongue as you bucked your hips, crying out for more. he wanted more than anything, to hear you beg. you probably looked oh so pretty when you begged.

that night in jeddah, you were so fucking wet. you had nearly coated his fingers with it all. and it was all for him?

“toto,” the way his name fell from your lips was like heaven itself, “will you stay tonight?”

“of course,” he nods, his voice nearly faltering as your hand massages his thigh, “f-fuck.”

“what?” you coo, meeting his gaze once more, “what is it, baby?”

baby.

he was going to fuck the shit out of you.

the buzz of a phone in his pocket startles you, earning a flinch. as it rings, the team principal lets out a string of curses, and you infer it was more than likely german. bringing the phone to his ear, he takes a step back, strolling over to the corner of the room.

sighing, you roll on your side, back facing the team principal.

the call was only about a minute, yet felt like an eternity.

“don’t tell me you’re pouting over there.”

“maybe i am.”

the bed dips underneath his weight, your heart fluttering as you feel his presence. the team principal is on top of you now, pinning you to the bed.

“well quit it.”

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taglist: @toldyouitwasamelodrama @nebarious @whoisss @kravitzwhore @prettiest-at-the-party

#toto wolff #formula 1 #f1 #formula one #toto wolff x reader #f1 x reader #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff smut #toto wolff x you #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #alex albon #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #f1 x female reader #george russell

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disneyprincemuke · 11 months

Text

the new hires * fem!driver

still skeptical about roaming by herself on a race weekend, oscar and logan pick her up from her garage before media commitments

pairings: oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, sebastian vettel x fem!driver

warnings: nothing~

notes: i am really liking this so far! feel free to send in requests for this series and/or in general! requests are always open~ i hope you guys enjoy this hehe

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

she leans back on her race car, arms folded over her chest as she chews on the inside of her cheek. she stares at the concrete floor blankly, wondering when she get swept away from the garage.

the day has barely started. the garage only had a few engineers roaming around, and sebastian is absolutely nowhere to be found. which is why she's decided to hide in the comfort of her own garage.

oscar had texted her when she was making her way to the paddocks that he would pick her up when it was time for media commitments. but it's been 20 minutes since the agreed-upon time, and sebastian has now been kidnapped by other people for his big-boy meetings.

meetings that didn't involve her right now.

she can't handle the stares when she walks around the paddock, so she simply doesn't go anywhere on her own. she hushed whispers and judgemental stares always manage to get to her.

"oi!" a familiar accent catches her off guard. she stands up straight and turns towards the exit of the garage, finding the two taller boys waving her towards them.

"we're gonna be late, let's go," logan laughs, hurrying her to get to them. "we can't be late — we're the new hires."

“you’re the new hires,” oscar mutters, pointing between the two as he sucks in a sharp breath. “i was here last here.”

"then you shouldn't have taken so long to pick me up," she mutters. she jogs over to the two other rookies and smiles widely. "thanks for picking me up, though."

"you wouldn't have made it there on your own otherwise," oscar shrugs. he pulls her in for a side hug and a kiss to the crown of her head. “what’s a 2023 rookie round-up video for if it’s just logan and i?”

“but it wouldn’t wind up to that because you picked me up,” she states, narrowing her eyes down into a judgemental stare. “duh?”

when he pulls away, she hops over to logan and greets him with a hug. he gives her a kiss on the cheek before they start walking around the lane of garages to get to the paddocks.

"so, did you finally buy your first car over the break, (y/n)?" oscar begins as he shoves his phone into his pocket. he leans forward slightly to get a look at her face with a raise of his eyebrow. "don't tell me you haven't."

logan turns his head to the side, glancing at the girl walking next to him. "by the looks of it, she hasn't."

"well, you guys keep saying i should get a supercar," she explains, lifting her hands up in the air, "but i just want a functioning car that i shouldn't have to overthink in while i'm driving."

which is exactly why she's put off buying her car for months. now that she's a somewhat prominent public figure, everyone's been telling her she should get a car that speaks for her career.

but she doesn't want an expensive car that she has to truly overthink. she doesn't need a car that would stress her out if she were to climb a curb or hit a wall.

think how expensive that would be for her.

not to say that she's a bad driver. she just prefers an easy car.

"dude, you've been talking about that car for years!" oscar throws his head back, rolling his eyes before throwing a glare her way. "you can't tell me we listened to all your yapping about a milestone car when you get into formula 1 only for you to not... get one."

"give it time," she scowls, waving oscar off.

"well, it at least better be a cute car," logan mutters with a scoff. "or else i'd be quite disappointed i waited this long for you to get a car that isn't you."

"i don't need a car, anyway," she answers breathily. "you guys drive me around plenty. my license is only good for the track, it seems."

“we won’t be around forever to drive you around. we’re not together all the time,” logan scoffs. he lifts his arm up and rests it on her shoulder as they walk.

“well, when you do happen to be around, you will,” she scoffed, pushing his arm off her shoulder. “and stop doing that — just your arm is heavy enough!”

“i know, that’s why it was on your shoulder.”

“logan!”

“what?”

“knock it off,” oscar scoffs, pushing himself between them. “you’ll attract the cameras if you’re going to be like.” he turns to her. “do you want that?”

she quickly shuts her mouth and stands a little straighter. she looks straight ahead and presses her lips together. “you got me there.”

“i know,” oscar mutters, glaring at her.

“hey, you’re not kidnapping my driver, are you?” sebastian’s voice halts their footsteps, making them turn around at the same time comically. “i need her for the race on sunday.”

she scowls at her mentor. “yes, cause i’m walking with them in the paddocks unwillingly.” she puts a hand on her chest and the other on her forehead. she runs over to sebastian, faking a sob. “my knight in shining armour, thank you for saving me from these bad bad men!”

“hey!” logan grips her wrist before she can get any further. “we’re going to be late!”

sebastian raises an eyebrow. he looks confused at first but it slowly carves into realisation why the three of them are out and about together. “oh. f1 media commitments?”

“official crew and all,” oscar shrugs with a small smile. his eyes follow logan and her, gently exhanging smacks on each other’s arms as they hurl insults at one another.

“oh, alright,” sebastian laughs before briefly turning away from them. “have her back in my garage on time! with no scratches, preferably. we have a meeting with the team later.”

“i’ll try, but she keeps hitting me!” logan answers, landing a firm shove on her shoulder.

she’s barely moved, only taking a small step back to regain her balance. she gasps at his action, “don’t make me bite you.”

“okay, cut it out,” oscar laughs. he walks away, leaving the two behind. which would be a problem seeing that they don’t actually know where the filming setup is. “i’m leaving.”

“see, he left us because you’re being annoying,” she grumbles, landing one last hit on logan’s shoulder. she jogs to catch up with oscar, who has walked away quite a fair bit from them.

“i’m only taking inspiration from you.”

“oh, shut up.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse (comment to be added)

#oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #fem!driver #female driver #f1 fem!driver #formula 1 fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #f1 x reader #disneyprincemuke f1

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mechaknight-98 · 4 months

Text

Road Trip (NSFW) FT Nayeon and Tzuyu

Author's Notes: I just wanted to write a short little 1500 word jaunt but no my brain made it 7500. No matter. It was a fun ride (Pun intended.) Not currently sure what the rest of the release schedule is going to be right now, but there will probably something smaller maybe two however enjoy this special holiday release.

Driving from Anaheim, California to Houston, Texas is the worst. It’s not the most terrible thing I’ve ever had to do, but it’s in the top 20. Still, it was worth it. I was going to see my favorite K-pop group, Twice, and I would fly back after dropping off the rental. "Take photos," my dad convinced me. So, here I was, driving thousands of miles.

During one of my photo ops stops, I noticed a broken down van, smoke billowing from the engine. Three people were standing outside of it. I sucked my teeth.

“Sucks to be them,” I thought. As I passed, something told me to stop. I didn’t want to, but I did so against my better judgment. I stopped and walked over to them.

“Hey, do y'all need help?” I called out.

A feminine, accented voice responded, “Oh God, yes!” As I neared, I recognized two of the three faces. It was the matnae and maknae of Twice.

“Ehh, Nayeon and Tzuyu?” I said, bewildered.

“Ehh?” Nayeon replied, “You know us?” She added, and I nodded. Tzuyu laughed.

“Good, so no intros needed. You asked if you could help us. Can you drive us to the hotel?”

Tzuyu ran up to me and hugged me tightly, her eyes holding the cutest puppy dog pout. I sighed, resigned to my fate, and said, “Sure, let’s grab your stuff and go.” That’s when you approached.

“Thank you so much,” you said. “I’ll make sure the company pays you back for this.” I shrugged at your words, but you insisted. We loaded everything into the car and raced off to the hotel (metaphorically, of course). On the ride there, it was Tzuyu and me in the front, with Nayeon and you in the back.

“So, what’s your name?” Tzuyu asked with a hint of flirtiness.

“DJ, and you… don’t answer that. I already know… sorry, muscle memory.” I replied. Tzuyu laughed at my gaffe, as did Nayeon. You, of course, got it. They’re stars while you and I are seemingly normal.

“So, who is your bias?” Nayeon inevitably asked.

“That’s a setup… but I’m stupid, so Tzuyu,” I replied confidently.

Nayeon laughed and scoffed, then looked at you with a “Can you believe him?” look.

“Oh, so I’m your favorite,” Tzuyu acknowledged. I nodded, then turned on the Bluetooth for the radio. Tzuyu began to rock out to my heavy playlist as it started.

“Ugh,” Nayeon scoffed.

“I can play other stuff. I take non-country requests,” I replied. You laughed at my response, as you had been catering to the diva for the past few days. Conversely, the maknae piped up,

“No, I like this music. Especially this band. Chaeyoung introduced me to them.”

“Wait! Really? Chaeyoung introduced you to Architects, Tzuyu?” I asked, intrigued.

Tzuyu nodded before saying, “But please call me Chewy.” I gave her a thumbs-up as I continued driving. As we landed in New Mexico, I decided to get some photo ops at the Area 51 museum. Before stopping, I apologized to the rest of the passengers.

“Sorry, just wanted to get some pictures,” I explained. You and the girls nodded as I got out. Nayeon, being her sexy but conceited self, asked me to take some pictures at a nearby station. I obliged, and she posed.

“Be sure to send me those later because I look sexy,” she said confidently. I nodded as Nayeon went back to you. Meanwhile, Chewy politely asked me to take some pictures of her, which I happily obliged.

Her photos bordered more on the cute side, but when she wasn’t taking photos, she made some quite suggestive and flirty comments.

For example, when I showed her one taken with a silly hat on, she said, “Oh, that’s so nice. You make me glow, but can you make me squirm and scream?” Her tone was hushed enough so only I could hear her. I turned to her, and she just gave an innocent smile as if she wasn’t spouting filth.

I chuckled, which she mirrored as we talked.

“So, DJ, are you a professional photographer?” Chewy asked politely.

“Nope, working on getting there though,” I replied.

Chewy nodded before asking another question, “What’s stopping you?”

I laughed and partially joked, “Mostly money and experience. Once I have those, I’ll be there.” Chewy laughed and said,

“Well, I think you’re pretty good.”

While we were talking, Nayeon scoffed, “Chewy is swooning.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Can’t you tell? She’s been extra doe-eyed with him. She’s going to eat him alive, but that’s just her. She always goes for the kind and naive ones.”

“Hey, you used to be like that too, if memory serves correctly,” you countered.

“We were in high school, and I didn’t know any better,” Nayeon rebuked, and you laughed.

“Let Chewy have her moment. He seems nice.”

“That’s the problem,” Nayeon scoffed. While no one was looking, though, she leaned in and sneaked a kiss on your cheek.

“Thank you for ‘being my manager’ for this tour. I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have,” Nayeon admitted. You smiled at her words before saying,

“You’re welcome, Nabong.” Nayeon’s lips curled upwards in a mischievous grin.

“I think I may need one of your full-body massages,” Nayeon said, emphasizing the word “massage,” letting you know what she meant. You smirked and said,

“Anything for my favorite bunny.”

After taking pictures, I continue the drive to the hotel. Conveniently, we're all staying at the same place.

You, Nayeon, and Tzuyu check in while I search for parking. When I finally enter, I try to be discreet.

"Um, one room for Dracul Bram?" I ask in a low tone. The hostess looks at my ID, then up at me with a confused but amused grin.

"Room 104," she says, "behind the check-in station and around the corner." I give her a thumbs-up and head towards my room.

I would have made it if not for someone behind me calling out, "DJ, where are you going?" I turn to see Chewy waving me over. She’s at the bar with you, Sana, another manager, and Nayeon. Resigned, I join you all.

As I approach, Sana laughs and says, "Oh wow, you’re so tall." I shrug, while you notice Chewy glaring at Sana. You chuckle internally, recognizing that Chewy is interested in me. Nayeon shoots you a knowing look, also noticing Chewy's reaction.

When I sit down, Sana quickly starts her flirty "interview."

"So, DJ, I hear you're quite the photographer?" Sana purrs.

"Um, still an amateur. I lack the funds and experience to be considered 'professional,'" I reply. Sana smirks.

"So why don't we help you get more experience? How would you feel about being my photographer for the concert in Houston?" My mind stalls as I try to process her proposal. The air grows thick, and while I'm dumbfounded, Tzuyu glares at her unnie. You and Nayeon laugh, recognizing the game Sana is playing. Chewy, completely unaware, takes the bait.

"But unnie, I thought you liked Mark a lot more. Maybe you should take him, and I'll take DJ?" Chewy proposes.

"Game, set, match," Nayeon whispers in your ear.

Sana smiles and replies to Chewy, "I don't know. You said DJ takes really good pictures, and I haven't seen them yet..." Before Sana can finish, Chewy quickly says,

"Fine... I'll take the room with Dahyun," Chewy sighs.

"Deal," Sana quickly agrees with a smile. I'm still reeling from the initial proposal as this deal unfolds around me.

Before I can fully process what just happened, the bartender approaches, asking for our drink orders. Chewy, still flustered from her exchange with Sana, quickly orders a soda. Nayeon orders a cocktail, and Sana, with a smirk, opts for something stronger. You and I both go for something simple, trying to keep up with the rapid-fire interactions around us.

"DJ, how did you end up driving from California?" Nayeon asks, leaning forward with genuine curiosity.

"Well, I wanted to see you guys perform and take some photos along the way. My dad thought it would be a good idea," I explain, feeling slightly more comfortable now that the conversation has shifted to neutral territory.

Chewy brightens at this. "So, you like road trips and photography? That's a fun combination."

"Yeah, it's been an adventure," I admit, smiling at her enthusiasm. "And now, unexpectedly, I'm here with you all."

Sana, not one to let the spotlight shift too far, interjects, "Well, it's lucky for us that you stopped to help. Nayeon and Chewy would have been stranded otherwise." Her tone is light, but there's a genuine appreciation beneath it.

"Definitely," you agree, raising your glass in a toast. "To unexpected adventures."

Everyone raises their glasses, and the mood relaxes further. As we chat, Nayeon nudges you and whispers something in your ear, causing both of you to laugh.

Chewy, noticing this, leans in closer to me. "So, DJ, tell me more about your photography. What kind of subjects do you like to shoot?"

I start to answer, but I'm interrupted by a sudden buzz from Nayeon's phone. She glances at it and then groans. "It's our manager. He needs us for a quick meeting."

Sana rolls her eyes but stands up. "Duty calls. DJ, it was nice meeting you. Don't forget about our deal."

Chewy stands up reluctantly, giving me a small, shy smile. "I'll see you later, DJ."

As they head off, you stay behind for a moment. "You handled that well," you say, clapping me on the shoulder. "Welcome to the world of K-pop chaos."

I laugh, feeling more at ease. "Thanks. I think I'm going to need all the help I can get."

"You'll be fine," you assure me. "Just keep being yourself. They seem to like you already."

With that, you head off to join the others, leaving me at the bar to reflect on the whirlwind of the evening. As I sit there, I can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness about what the next few days will bring.

I decide to pay the tab before finishing my drink and heading to my room. I upload the picture to my tablet before sending the photos to Chewy and Nayeon. While going over them one of the pictures of Chewy stands out. I send it to my phone and make it my wallpaper while keeping my home screen something more nerdy. After that, I decided it was for the best if I went to sleep for the night.

After I finally got comfortable and passed out you and the rest of the girls get out of your meeting. Nayeon Dramatically absconds with you to her room while Chewy checks her phone she notices my pictures. She smiles and sends me a cute little message. She is a little sad when I don't respond. She also decided to turn early.

You on the other enter your room hand in hand with Nayeon. She beams at you ready for her “massage”. She begins to strip for you and your smile grows wide.

“You always look like a kid in a candy store,”

You smile then reply, “With how hot you are can you blame me?” Nayeon grins and looks at you happily.

“Oh, I'm going to enjoy this,” she lies on the bed and spreads her long legs. You marvel at her thick thighs and buoyant ass. Nayeon beams as you stare at her “Well come on fuck me,” she says with an arrogant smile that drives you wild wild. You strip to her as she does her “sexy” shimmy she does whenever she's feeling herself. You line yourself up with her entrance. You rub her clit and pussy with your rod as she patiently waits. After a few minutes of teasing, she jams you inside her.

“Oh yes,” she moans as you bottom out in her. Her tightness takes your breath away as you wait for her to stop clenching you. When her body finally acclimated you begin to thrust in and out of her. She moans uncontrollably as you begin to thrust harder and harder.

“Yes, Yes, Yes,” she moans deliriously from the pleasure. You groan as you feel her tighten before she climaxes. You watch as her body arches back and her slick floods out of her. As she covers you cock and crotch in her cum you keep fucking her until you reach your high. You flood her with semen as you reach your orgasm. As the two of you come down from your mutual high you gaze at the clock.

“Shit! We can't do anymore because we have to get up early tomorrow,” you say stressed Nayeon nods before and the both of you pass out.

I wake up early the next morning, shower, get changed, and get ready for the day. When I walk out, you, Sana, the other manager from last night, and Chewy are all waiting for me.

“Oh good, we didn't miss you. Congratulations, you've been selected to drive in Twice’s caravan,” you say to me.

I blink a couple of times before saying, “Huh?”

Chewy laughs and responds, “We are still missing one van, so we figured since we are all going to the same place, you could help us out again.” I process the information slowly.

Confused, I look at the group and realize that I’ve been temporarily enlisted into Twice’s caravan. Today, I’ll be driving the manager (Sam), Sana, and Chewy. I blink a few times but relent, “You all know I'm flying back, right?” I ask, concerned.

You nod and say, “As are we.”

I shrug and say, “Well, okay then.”

You clap your hands together. “Good, see you at the next hotel in Houston.” I nod quietly as I pack up. The girls and Sam follow me to the car. As we load up, Sana asks, “Hey DJ, you're big and strong. Can you help me with my bags?” I nod and lift her bags into the trunk. Sana smiles and caresses my arms.

“I knew you could do it,” she says seductively. I nod as Sana goes to sit. Chewy walks close to me, and instinctively I load up her bags. Chewy smiles, and we get ready to go. She takes her seat in the front with me. As I check to see if everyone is buckled, Sana flashes me a flirty smile. Once everyone is secure, I start driving.

Fifteen minutes into the drive, Chewy asks me what music she should put on. I catch myself before saying, “Put on Lorgar’s audiobook.” Instead, I suggest she put on the Whiplash playlist. She does so and is surprised when "Perfect World" by Twice is the first song. I catch the smiles aimed at me, then the confused look when the second song, "Backbreaker" by Fit For a King, comes on. Initially, my passengers are confused, but as they listen to more of the playlist, they start vibing with me.

After about six hours of driving, we make our first stop at a gas station. I take a few pictures of the desert and plains, which Sana sneaks her way into. When I finish, she gets close to me and says, “Oh, you're really good.” I thank her for the compliment, while also noticing Chewy sitting a little way off with a forlorn but cute pose. I snap a few photos before going into the convenience store section of the gas station and grabbing her a snack. When I walk out toward her, I sit next to her and hand her the snack. She looks at me and pouts, “I can't eat that. It will go straight to my thighs.”

I raise an eyebrow. “And why would that be bad? You have the sexiest thighs,” I say. Tzuyu giggles.

“You're just saying that,” she responds. I shake my head, resisting the impulse to pull her closer.

“You are super pretty, and I think one honey bun won't be the end of the world. Fifteen in two hours, though…that might be a problem,” I joke. Tzuyu smiles and leans on my shoulder.

Sana and Sam watch from a distance.

“Oh, she's got him,” Sam says with a laugh. Sana nods with a pout.

“He just looks so cuddly,” Sana laments.

“Yeah, I get that, but you get all the attention. Let Chewy have this one,” Sam replies.

Sana pouts again. “Okay.”

When we all get back into the car, the next song up is "In the Mouth of Madness" by Nightmares. Chewy enjoys it and asks about their other albums. I wince as I tell her this is their only one. She frowns but understands. After that, "Cheer Up" comes on, garnering a few more smiles.

"You like us," Chewy says.

I nod and reply, "Well, yeah. If it weren't for you all, I wouldn't have gotten through the pandemic. I was alone and isolated for most of it, and you nine got me through by being this giant pastel pink sign saying, 'Things will get better!' So I fought on." Chewy smiles warmly.

Sam hears this and says, "The little Once that could." I chuckle along with the rest of the car.

After a few more hours, we arrive at the last hotel. Curiously, we are the first to arrive, beating out the rest of the vans. Cameras and flashes surround the car as we step out. Momentarily blinded, I grab Sana's and Chewy's bags and help them check-in. When I go to check into my hotel, Sam stops me.

"We got you a room," he says. I nod and gratefully take the room key as we head to the elevator.

"Chewy likes you," he says out of the blue.

"What? No," I scoff.

Sam's eyes narrow. "Yes, she does. I have never seen her this engaged with someone, especially someone outside of Twice."

"She's just being nice," I say, still in disbelief.

Sam rolls his eyes as we exit the elevator. "You say that, but she loves the whole knight-in-shining-armor thing. She eats it up, and you being the bashful knight type—she's going to eat you alive."

"You make it sound like she's a maneater," I respond, confused.

Sam grins wickedly before entering his room. "She is, but she has picky tastes. Anyway, be careful—or not."

Left alone with a lot to process, I lie down and think about the day.

"Do I like Chewy back?" I ponder.

"If I do, am I willing to give up my anonymity to be with her?"

My thoughts halt when I get a DM from Chewy saying, "Hey, can you come to my room? I need help ordering food." Without hesitation, I go. My heart had already chosen for me. When I get to her room, she’s in shorts and a crop top with a giant heart shape on it. She smiles at me.

"That was fast," she teases.

I smile and say, "Well, anything for royalty, I guess." She looks confused.

"Your song, 'Queen of Hearts,' and your shirt," I explain. Chewy looks down and laughs.

"Okay, I thought that was your first humor miss."

"I am always missing," I reply. Chewy smiles and pats the bed next to her. I walk and lie down next to her. She nestles closer as I help her order room service, wrapping herself around me tightly.

A knock on the door interrupts us. I go to open it, and Dahyun, Sana, Nayeon, and Jihyo arrive, along with you, Sam, and another manager, this one female.

"So, you're the Machine God I’ve been hearing so much about. The name's Sara," the female manager says, amused.

I look at her, confused.

Sara rolls her eyes as she says, "Oh, don't give me that puzzled look. You drove here straight without any breaks except a couple of stops for gas."

I nod, understanding now, as I walk back to the bed with Chewy. When I sit back down, you and Nayeon notice how Chewy moves her legs onto my lap.

"Oh, someone is staking her claim," you whisper calmly.

Nayeon whispers back, "I wonder how long until she drops the shyness and he sees her true self."

"Oh, it'll happen before we head back. I can see it in her eyes. She wants him badly, and she's barely containing herself. We probably delayed it tonight."

"What was that?" Sara asked, catching your whispered conversation with Nayeon.

"Oh, nothing, just discussing what we should order for room service after we leave," you reply quickly.

Sara isn't convinced. "Right," she says sarcastically, before turning to me.

"So, DJ, what does DJ stand for?"

Expecting this question, I sigh. "Promise not to laugh?" Everyone looks at me, puzzled but nods.

"My name is Dracul Marcus Bram Jr., but my family calls me DJ," I say. The room falls silent before Sara responds.

"Okay, I see why you prefer DJ, but I think Dracul is pretty badass." I give a thumbs up and try to blend back into the group dynamics. The doorbell rings, and Chewy jumps up excitedly. "I'll get it, Drac," she says, kissing me on the cheek. My mind blanks for a moment. I sit there, stunned, as Chewy fetches the food and returns. Seeing my dumbfounded expression, she smiles.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

Still processing, I hear Sam laughing. When I finally regain my composure, I feel an unexpected calm and confidence.

"I just didn't expect that," I reply. Everyone hears the newfound steadiness in my voice and is taken aback. Usually, when Tzuyu shows her real self to someone she likes, they become more timid. This is the first time anyone has taken her advances in stride.

Tzuyu feels a shift inside herself. In her mind, I transform from "Cute Teddy Bear" to "I want this man to father my children," though only for a moment before settling on "Datable Material."

The silence grows uncomfortable, so I say, "The food looks good, Chewy. We should eat before it gets cold." For the first time, Chewy is the one flustered. She giggles and smiles, bringing the food over. She got a burger, and I got a quesadilla—though it might have been called something else, it had all the ingredients.

Tzuyu and I eat comfortably while the others watch. You notice a change in our body language. We're no longer timidly stealing glances or shyly flirting. Chewy gives me ravenous looks, and I reciprocate with calm, measured passion. If you were more observant, you would have noticed our touches growing more frequent until we were holding hands.

The atmosphere between us shifts. Instead of a bashful princess and her shy knight, we exude the air of two confident equals—me, the composed diplomat, and her, the assertive Empress. Her eyes say she wants to devour me, and I feel the same urge. Yet, with an audience, the battle must wait. We're so engrossed in our little world that we don't notice the others leaving until the door closes and Dahyun says, “Goodbye.” We wave politely, but as soon as the door closes, Chewy grabs me and pulls me in for an emotional, sloppy kiss.

I love it and let her take the lead this time. She broke the kiss. She was frantic, “should I go fast? Should I savor you and make a mess of you?” Tzuyu said as her mind raced.

I smirked and calmly replied, “It's not a race,”

Tzuyu gave me the sexiest and most ferocious glare before she said “I am going to drain every single last drop of cum from you and make you scream my name all night,” I surrender to her fervor this time as she brings me in for another kiss. I guess savage maknae wasn't a cute nickname. Her kisses were messy but also extremely hot. She was vicious but she knew what she wanted and I was going to let her have it.

While she kissed me I felt her hand slip into my sweatpants. I feel her hand reach my rod and she begins to slowly stroke.

She breaks the kiss and stares at me luridly.

“Ah Tzuyu,” I moan out. Tzuyu smiles

“Whose cock is this?” she asks innocently

“Yours,” I moan she nods happily.

“Good. Now I'm going to suck my cock and you're going to paint my face. Can you do that for me?” she asks hungrily. I nod as she pushes my sweatpants down and moves to my cock. She continues her glacial pace that I both hate and love. She looks up at me her gaze is ferocious as she devours me. Drool pools around my shaft as sloppily engorged herself. She comes up for air and resumes stroking me.

“Do you like it?” she asks innocently. I nod helplessly. She goes to my frenulum and teases it with her tongue. I moan her name again. She smiles and goes back down on me. I try to hang on but everything about what she's doing to me has me on edge. I tilt her face up bring her lips back to mine and kiss her. Her eyes are wide the entire time with surprise but she happily accepts the kiss. When we break it she smiles.

“I appreciate your adoration,” she says before slapping me,

“But tonight I'm in control,” she says firmly I nod.

“I'll let that transgression slide because you're so cute, but next time I won't be so forgiving,” I nod and feel my cock twitch in her hand. She notices

“Are you close babe?” she asks sweetly. I nod and she does everything in her power to get the largest load possible.

“Oh fuck Tzuyu,” I scream out as I cum all over her face. She smiles as she gets up. She sauntered off like a satiated predator. As I lay there the weight of what just happened hits me. My cock despite having just orgasmed is still rock hard and overwhelming my body with thoughts of pinning Tzuyu down and railing her. When she does get back she is fully nude and sauntering back for seconds. Our eyes narrow as both our predatory natures rise to the surface. Who will be the first to submit? we ask each other with our eyes. I get up and approach her I strip down as well before reaching her. She looks up into my eyes. I see vulnerability but also a deep fathomless lust. I kiss her forehead which makes her smile acutely and then I bend her over the bed and impale her.

“Oh fuck Dracul,” she yells as I fully rest myself inside her. I wait for her to stop shaking, and then I start thrusting. Tzuyu loses it as my cock ravages her pussy. I put one hand on her hips and the other firmly groped her breast. She moans uncontrolled. I take my time with her body searching for the best angles hoping to get her off. Eventually, I find the winning combination of thrusts, touches, and kisses as she yells, “fuck Dracul I'm cumming.” her womanhood tensed and tightened around me before she squirted profusely over my cock. When she finishes I pump my load into her causing her to orgasm again.

We fall into bed and pass out after that when I wake up we are spooning and my cock is still deep within her. Feeling me stir she moans as she jolts awake she turns to me and trapezes on top of me before she begins to ride me. Her hands pin mine as she aggressively ruts and grinds into me like an animal in heat. With her ferocious tempo neither of us last long as we cum together. She smiles as she gets off of me and my cum drips down her thighs.

She goes to shower, giving me a chance to do the same in my room. When I finish, I notice a message on my phone:

“I didn't say you could leave. Meet me downstairs for breakfast.”

Tzuyu’s possessiveness is both sexy and annoying, but I comply. When I arrive, she’s sitting with Chaeyoung and Dahyun, looking relaxed and pleased. I grab a light breakfast of an omelet and toast and join them. They all smile and wave as I sit down.

“So, you're DJ?” Chaeyoung asks. I nod and extend my hand for a shake, which she accepts. Then, I surprise them by praying over my food.

While we eat, you and Nayeon join us. You notice a few bite marks on my neck and discreetly point them out to Nayeon, who laughs more openly. When Dahyun asks about it, you casually say, “Inside joke.”

You grab a plate for Nayeon, who’s “too exhausted” to do much herself. As you sit back down, Nayeon gives you a mischievous glance before turning to Tzuyu and me.

“So, Tzuyu, did you enjoy DJ last night?” she asks.

I laugh and start to get up, but Tzuyu grabs the edge of my shirt, stopping me. I sit back down as she responds, “I did. He was great. Why? Are you jealous?”

The group falls silent. You look at a stunned Nayeon, then an amused Tzuyu. I marvel at Tzuyu, who turns to me and asks,

“So, what are your plans for today?”

I take a moment to gather my thoughts before replying, “Well, I was planning to visit a couple of tourist sites, play some Commander, and then catch the Rockets game tonight.”

Tzuyu eyes me cautiously before responding, “Okay, but get back as quickly as you can. I have some things I want to discuss with you for tomorrow’s concert. We have a soundcheck today.”

I nod and ask when the soundcheck is. She gives me the time, and I reply, “Oh, I can make that.”

Tzuyu smiles and says, “Perfect!”

After breakfast, we all split up. Tzuyu corners me, and I can see the arousal in her eyes.

“Do you think you could spend more quality time with me tonight?” she asks. I nod, and she smiles before kissing me. Her tongue pierces down my throat, leaving me breathless.

“Be ready. Yesterday, I only got a taste, but tonight I'm going to devour you,” she says firmly, making me squirm. I nod and give her a timid thumbs-up, fighting the urge to let her have me right there. Tzuyu smiles as she walks away.

When I get to my rental car, you manage to find me.

“My boss has been looking over your work, and he's impressed. He wants to offer you a spot for the rest of the tour,” you tell me. I sit in the car, shocked, before responding,

“How much would the pay be? I’d have to quit my job.”

You eye me nervously and ask, “How does USD 150,000 for the rest of the stops sound?”

I blink at you a couple of times, then calmly say, “That works.”

You also hand me a check for $30,000 to cover the rental, gas, and any other minor expenses. I look at you and sigh.

“I’m going to use this to buy more professional camera equipment since everything else is already accounted for and budgeted,” I reply.

You smile and say, “Well, then you'd better hurry.”

I nod and leave, allowing you to go back to Nayeon with a dumb grin on your face.

Nayeon smiles and says, "Based on your look, I assume he took the deal."

You laugh, relieved, and nod, replying, "Yes, and the dummy is using the money to buy more professional gear."

Nayeon gives you a confused look before asking, "Wait, why is that dumb?"

"Well, short answer: we were going to have him use the gear we already had. But since he's doing all this work to get better, newer gear, we get a return on the rentals. So he's saving us money, and we don’t get used gear. Plus, he's the only one liable,” you say, elated.

Nayeon nods and laughs at my over-eagerness. “Okay, great! Now we

have some unfinished business,” Nayeon replies.

You approach your starlet with the fervor she deserves. She smiles as she watches you strip bare excited to have you inside her once again. You approach her bare body and begin to kiss her feet, because if there is one thing that Nayeon loves it's being worshiped. so you start with kissing her feet, then you meander to her thighs where you let loose upon them. You spent almost an hour kissing biting and licking her thighs until Nayeon couldn't take it anymore

"Fuck me till I beg you to stop" She whined. You smiled before taking your cock out and plunging into her.

"Ah Fuck," Nayeon moaned as her pussy acted more like a constricting snake than the bunny she moonlighted as. you moan as you impale her.

"how are you still so tight?" you ask. Nayeon laughs as she coils around you tightening her pussy even more.

You two begin to fuck in earnest. You grind ruthlessly into each other's hips as both of you attempt to maximize pleasure for yourselves. You loved that you could be as selfish as you wanted being Nayeon's lover because she was equally as selfish. it made all things with her so honest. you lift her hips to get deeper trying to hit her cervix which Nayeon loved despite the soreness it gave her. when you feel your tip hit her cervix Nayeon moans, and you keep pounding into her tight pussy.

Her walls continue to get tighter miraculously as you push in and out of her forcing her to take more and more of you. her eyes roll into the back of her head as her tits bounce due to the force of your thrust into her. her blissed-out face makes you smile, and yet somehow her pussy tightens around you again. As she starts convulsing she starts cumming violently around your cock. you groan and push through feeling her walls forcibly trying to milk you. you push past the tightness and look at her.

"I love how fast you cum Nabong. It's so hot," you say as Nayeon moans all around you. you keep thrusting into her while her mind is broken by the pleasure she feels. eventually, you can't hold it anymore and you cum inside of her. You moan as she moans your name before flooding her guts with your seed. After that, she begs you not to go again due to her sensitivity.

While Nayeon and you were having fun, I was getting a myriad of things done throughout the city. After finishing lunch, I got a text from Tzuyu asking me to meet her at the soundcheck, which was a bit earlier than anticipated. So I headed to the venue. I was stopped at the gate by security, but just then, Jeongyeon arrived. She laughed at me waiting and said to the security guard,

"Why is Tzuyu's photographer being held up by you?" The man went pale. Jeongyeon grabbed me and took me with her.

"You're lucky I was here; otherwise, you'd have been stuck until we left," she teased.

"Thanks, Jeongyeon-noon," I said. Jeongyeon looked at me, disgusted.

"Nope, I hate it. Just call me Jeongyeon," she said firmly. I nodded.

"One last question. Do you know where Tzuyu will be?" Jeongyeon nodded and had me follow her.

We arrived at the staging room. She opened the door, and Tzuyu looked up, making eye contact with me before her face erupted into a smile and a light giggle. Jeongyeon smiled and said, "Don't have too much fun, lovebirds," and then left for another area.

Tzuyu scowled, then turned to me with a happy smile, beckoning me to sit next to her by patting the couch. She hugged me and said, "What took you so long, babe?"

I replied plainly, "I didn't have any credentials according to the security guard, and Mal couldn't vouch for me." Tzuyu nodded as she cuddled me.

"Did you have fun before at least?" she asked happily. Dahyun walked in before I could answer.

Her cute, bewildered look was adorable as she asked, "OH! Am I interrupting something?" I shook my hands, and Tzuyu confirmed she wasn't.

Dahyun sat next to us and pulled out her phone. "I was mostly doing banking stuff since Mal gave me a check for helping you all."

Tzuyu nodded and smiled, "Okay, well, it's good to see you." I gave Chewy a thumbs-up, and she smiled. Dahyun took the lull in the conversation to talk to me.

"So, DJ. How are you feeling about all of us so far?"

"I love it. This is the most... interesting time I have had in a while, so I can't complain too much." Dahyun smiled and said,

"That's great."

I nodded at Dahyun as Chewy nestled closer. As we settled in, a camera flashed. Stunned and confused, I waited for my eyes to readjust, then saw Sara and Sana holding their phones, laughing.

Sara turned to Sana and said, "Oh, got the two lovebirds nesting." Sana laughed with Sara as they walked out. Chewy held me tighter. About 18 minutes later, all of the girls were called for the full run-through. I got up, but before I could join them, you stopped me and handed me multiple badges.

"Here are your badges for the soundcheck and tomorrow's concert," you said firmly. I nodded.

You nodded then said, "Now I know you are hired to be Tzuyu's photographer, but feel free to get some shots of the other girls here and there." I nodded in affirmation.

"Great. Now, last thing: have fun. This is meant to be work, but nothing says we can't enjoy it. Although, based on the noises I heard last night, you certainly know how to have fun."

I laughed and threw you a curveball, "Yeah, I’m sure you do as well with Nayeon." You looked at me, shocked.

"You picked up on that?" you asked, bewildered.

I nodded and said, "Just because it seems like I am not paying attention doesn't mean I am not."

You nodded before saying, "Remind me not to underestimate you."

I smiled and said, "Don't worry, everyone does."

You furrowed your brow, then said, "I won't make a habit of it. So, what did you get today?"

"I got the Nikon Z6III, a Z8, and Z9 cameras, and five various Z-mount lenses."

"Wow, you must like Nikon, but question. Why only on hold? You need them, right?"

"I do, but not right now, and I am waiting for the check to clear. So if you are messing with me, I'll know beforehand."

You considered my words. "Hm, that's quite cunning of you."

I shrugged and replied, "If you think so." You laughed before signing off.

I spent the rest of the soundcheck recording videos and taking pictures while weaving in and out of the "crowds." You watched from afar and noticed my shooting style. It's exceptionally patient, which you found surprising, but you didn't watch me for long as your manager duties and your love for a specific bunny-associated idol forced you to pivot your focus constantly. after the Soundcheck, I head back to my rental followed by Chewy, Mina, and Chaeyoung. we hop in and Mina says,

"So Mr. Bram if that is your real name I have a question for you. What are your intentions without Maknae?" I look at her then Chewy then at Chaeyoung. I consider saying something dumb but decide on the rational option.

"I like her and I hope she likes me back. otherwise, just take it slow I guess," Mina eyes me suspiciously but relents.

When we arrive back at the hotel I was expecting a quiet night with Chewy, but I am quickly thrust into a party with the rest of Twice as they get out their pre-concert jitters.

it was hectic among other things. there was drinking, karaoke, dancing, and other shenanigans. I was able to steal a few moments with Chewy and we were able to discuss the photos I took today. She also liked the photos I took of the other members.

"Hey, lovebirds. No discussing work," a drunk Nayeon said to us as we chatted on the edge of the "party."

I tapped out at about 12:45 AM, while the Extroverts of the group plus Nayeon (she is an honorary extrovert) Mina, Jeongyeon, and Momo kept going. I got to my room and was surprised to hear a knock on the door. I open it and Chewy is waiting outside. I wince before saying,

"I am sorry Chewy but I can't do anything else tonight." Chewy smiles before saying

"Good me too. I just wanted to cuddle tonight." I give her a thumbs up and we get in the bed before passing out. I wake up before her and shower. after the shower, she looks at me with a hungry look. I sigh and say,

"As much as I would like to spend more time with you I have too much to do." Chewy rolls her eyes before getting up to kiss me and then shower herself.

"Fine but can I ride with you?" I nod and we get ready.

fast forward we pick up the cameras and lenses. I also pick up more memory and a few other essentials. I charge all of them at the hotel as Chewy and I float around doing our various concert preparations. When we have to leave you and Sara ride with me while the girls ride together. We arrive at the venue and it's on from there.

I hustled around the venue, my camera clicking away as I captured the energy of the final preparations. The air was thick with excitement and a touch of nervousness. Tzuyu spotted me from across the room and made her way over, her face lighting up with a smile.

“Wish me luck,” she whispered, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. Her eyes sparkled with determination.

“You don’t need it, but good luck anyway,” I replied, grinning back at her.

The lights dimmed, and the roar of the crowd surged through the arena. The concert had begun. I moved through the crowd, capturing the electrifying performances, the fans’ ecstatic faces, and the sheer energy of the night.

Now and then, Tzuyu would glance my way, our eyes meeting for a brief moment amidst the chaos, a silent connection that kept me grounded.

After the concert, the atmosphere was jubilant. The group members hugged each other, celebrating their success.

Tzuyu found me in a quieter corner, her face glowing with happiness and exhaustion.

“Thank you for being here,” she said, pulling me into a tight hug. “Not just for the photos, but for me.”

“Anytime,” I replied, holding her close. she tried to protest due to being sweaty and smelly but I informed her that we were well past that

Just then, you approached us, holding an official-looking document. “Well, you made it. (I nod) I take it you had fun? (I nod again) Good well there is only one last bit of business. Are you willing to do the rest of the tour?”

I looked at Tzuyu. Her eyes were hopeful, yet she remained silent, not wanting to sway my decision. I thought about the journey, the connections I had made, and the possibilities that lay ahead.

“I’d love to,” I said, smiling as I took the contract. Tzuyu beamed with joy.

As the celebration continued, Tzuyu and I slipped away to a quieter spot on the rooftop, overlooking the city lights. The night was cool, and the city seemed to sparkle just for us.

“We did it,” Tzuyu said, leaning against the railing, her hand entwined with mine.

“We did,” I agreed, looking out at the horizon. “And it’s just the beginning.”

“Promise me something,” she said, turning to face me. “No matter how crazy things get, we make time for moments like this.”

“Promise,” I said, sealing it with a kiss.

We stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the city lights casting a soft glow around us. At that moment, I felt a sense of peace and anticipation. The future was uncertain, but it was bright, filled with endless possibilities.

As the night wore on, I reflected on my journey. From a chance encounter to this incredible moment, I found love, friendship, and a new path in life. And for the first time in a long while, I was truly excited for what lay ahead.

Tzuyu and I shared a final kiss under the stars, ready to face whatever the future held, together.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #twice smut #twice fanfic #nayeon #nayeon smut #twice tzuyu #twice nayeon #tzuyu #tzuyu smut #nayeon x reader #gn reader

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arting-block · 6 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 | Eleventh Doctor x F! Reader

❝𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯.❞

Summary: After a stressful day, you overhear Amy arguing with the Doctor. When he realized you heard everything, he tries to set things right.

Warnings: Angst, mentioned kidnapping, misunderstanding, pinning, comfort, the Doctor sucking at feelings

Words: 3.8K

A/N: I'm finally getting through the requests sitting in my inbox. This one was one of my favorites I've done in a while :) @shuichiakainx i hope you enjoy!!

You messed up. Badly.

The Doctor had explicitly stated for you to stay by his side. No wandering about, no talking to strangers, don't do anything foolish. The city you were visiting had a different culture, one steeped in brutal violence. Any slight can be perceived as an invitation for war.

You should've minded your own business. Maybe you wouldn't have gotten kidnapped. Even though your friends freed you hours ago, you can still feel the imprint of metal cuffs around your wrists. Your hands busy themselves with rubbing the area, bandages wrapped around your pulse where the metal snagged your skin.

You tried to defend an elderly man from getting hurt by a group of teenagers. You foolishly tried to shield the man from the onslaught of abuse, hoping to simply talk to the teenagers so that things wouldn’t escalate. Oh how wrong you were.

You knew you messed up. You had already regretted your choices the moment rough hands gripped your arms and hauled you into a foreign ship.

The Ashmadas were almost a whole head taller than you. Thick yellow hides that became scaly along their joints, blunt canines that were meant for crushing bones and skin, and the fluorescent eyes that glowed even in pitch black darkness. A species that evolved from war and brutality. Even the most intimidating human would look like field mice in comparison.

What you hadn't anticipated was the cold demeanor of your Doctor. You imagined him being cross, yes, but never downright angry. The moment he and the Ponds made it to the threshold where you were held, you noticed how calloused he had been. Snarling words, tension rippling beneath the skin. Furious didn't begin to explain his behavior. He threatened to set off a bomb that will incinerate everyone in the ship and release a plague to their already dwindling community. When you finally got out of your shackles, the Doctor barely even acknowledged you, hellbent on making the Ashmadas a new endangered species. It was only when you grabbed his face, forced him to see the tears as you begged him to leave, did he finally back off.

As the four of you retreated to the console room of the TARDIS, the Doctor makes a flimsy excuse about needing to check the ship’s engine. The day’s events have been heavy for all of you, so you knew it was more about him needing space. When you tried to talk to him, he brushed off your touch and gave you a cold reply.

You walked back to your room not long after. Rory patched you up as best he could, using a concoction of human and alien medicine. He didn't speak much and you were grateful for the silence. The only words he slipped out were sincere apologies for not getting there sooner. There was something else he wanted to say, moments where he opened his mouth but nothing came out. You were, frankly, too tired to press further.

Once Rory left, you tried your hardest to get some sort of sleep. Your body was spent, bruised, and tattered. No matter how many times you turned or how much your body ached, your mind couldn’t stop racing. You’ve probably spent a good hour or so trying to get comfortable, but to no avail.

You were still on edge, thinking about the cramped cell you were placed in. How alone you felt. You’ve been in precarious situations before, but this was different. Three whole days of captivity in total isolation. No light peeking through so you had nothing to distract you. Just your own memories passing through your mind. It made you realize just how much your friends mean to you. How much their presence comforted you, how relieved you were when Amy’s voice cut through your dark Hell. You remember sinking into the Doctor’s embrace, crying into his jacket and muttering how sorry you were.

There was so much you wanted to tell him. Those three days spent curled into a ball were filled with memories of him. His laugh echoing in your ear while carrying you throughout the universe. Petty arguments filled with teasing and embarrassed faces. The way he finds himself beside you, always lingering like a string was attached between the two of you.

The most treasured memory of all was one where it was just the two of you. Talking about nothing and everything. Favorite color, worst kitchen appliance, obscure historical figures. You talked for hours, laying your whole life for him to dissect. When it was his turn to speak, you took the opportunity to study him. Cataloging the slope of his nose, the lines around his mouth, and his mannerisms. The way he points going in tandem with the pitch of his voice, how his whole body moves when he talks.

You wanted to scream in his face the moment you saw him. Tell him the three words you repeat in your head when he’s around. Instead, all that came out was unintelligible sobs into scratchy fabric.

Tell him, tell him everything.

The bed creaked when you moved to sit up. Your heart ached at seeing the Doctor’s fury and how silent he was when you came back. You caused him worry, not just to him, but to the Ponds as well. The last thing you want is to end the day on a sour note. He’s your friend after all, even if you wanted something more.

It didn’t take long to reach the console room. You took your time with each step, wanting to get your thoughts in order. You pick up voices coming ahead of you, muffled words that you cannot make heads or tails of. As you approach the end of the hallway, you hear the muffled words turn into the familiar voice of Amy in a rather accusatory tone. You peek around the corner, observing the view of your two friends from above.

Amy stands a few feet away from the Doctor, who is hunched over the console. Amy’s face is a mix of concern and disappointment, as if she’s scolding a child. You notice the dirt smeared shirt she still wears, meaning she hasn’t gotten back to her room just yet. Was she here the whole time?

Crossing her arms, Amy shook her head at the tired man in front of her. “You’re never going to admit it are you?”

“What are you talking about? There’s nothing to admit.” The Doctor’s answer is just as cold and detached as it was hours before. “If you’re just going to go back and forth with me all day then I suggest you go spend your time with your husband. I told you before I’m not in the mood for your scolding.”

Amy’s laugh is devoid of any humor. She takes a step towards the Doctor. You see the pent up anger in her; a fuse ready to blow. “You think you’re so good at hiding it. You think we’re too stupid to notice—that I’m too stupid to not bring it up?”

“What exactly are you talking about?”

You shouldn’t eavesdrop like this. If the Doctor found out that you were listening in on a private conversation, he would no doubt be more angry than before.

Amy ignored the question, wanting to force the Doctor into a corner to say what she wanted to hear. “I’m honestly impressed how long you’ve lasted. Were you going to bury your emotions and hope they would simply disappear? You think pushing her away is going to make it hurt any less? I see the way you look at her.”

The Doctor snaps back, angry and seething. “Spit it out already Amelia!”

“(Y/N)!” came her equally furious reply, one that echoed sharply in the large room.

Your heart skidded to a stop in your chest. Why was she goading him like this? You didn’t recall telling Amy about your feelings for the Doctor. Was it that obvious? If she noticed, does that mean…?

The Doctor was quick to invade Amy’s space. He towered above her, his teeth bared with provoked anger. “And what exactly do you want me to admit? That she's careless and doesn’t listen to a word I say? How do I have to clean up her mess after she did the one thing I told her not to?”

Hearing the pained emotion in his voice made every word sting harder. He was not wrong to say it, but it hurt nonetheless. You wished that he would’ve said it to your face rather than having to overhear it in the shadows.

He didn’t stop there. It seemed Amy had opened a dam of pent up thoughts and emotions. Words kept spilling from his lips, each one hurting more than the last. “You know what I see when I look at her? A fragile human being. Someone who is only going to occupy a fraction of my existence.”

“You love her,” Amy spits back, wholly convicted. Tears prick her eyes as she barrels on. “Admit you stupid old man. You. Love. Her.”

Her words seemed to shock the Doctor out of his wrath. He immediately steps back, as if her presence burns.

The two of them look at one another, chests heaving. Amy doesn’t back down, keeping her chin held high, meeting his burning gaze. The Doctor’s face is unreadable, partially due to the fact that you don’t have a good vantage point. The anger doesn’t leave him, but you could tell that he’s considering her words.

You hold your breath, not wanting to miss his response.

It comes out soft, barely within normal talking level, but in the dead silence of the console room you hear it as clear as day: “How can I love her? I won’t—I can’t let that happen.”

You felt your heart drop out of your chest. All of the hurt spirling inside your chest, clawing a cavernous hole to fill with despair.

He doesn’t love you.

You were paralyzed, replaying that awful sentence over and over again. You bring a hand to cover your mouth, feeling the droplets of tears already flowing.

He doesn’t love you and he’s making sure it doesn’t happen.

Are you that awful to be around? That the mere thought of being romantic with you makes him angry?

Your hand presses at the space where your heart lies. Your shirt twists, your body curling deeper into the shadows of the room. You’ve experienced heartbreak before, back on Earth throughout the years. Never like this. It was more than a simple rejection, but a swift blow to your entire worldview.

You thought, foolishly, that maybe there was something between you two. He wouldn’t have let you stay as long as you had if he didn’t like you. All those late night conversations…the small brushes of skin when no one is looking…all of the glances you caught more than once…

They were nothing.

Stumbling back into the hallway, you ran as fast as you could to your room. The TARDIS bestowed mercy on you, materializing your room just a few feet away. You didn’t think twice to fly open the door and slam it shut behind you. You knew the sound would travel to the console room and alert Amy and the Doctor, but you didn’t care.

The force of your cries shook your body, your sobs filling your room despite your hands trying to muffle them. Over and over you replay the entire conversation. You wished the TARDIS would swallow you whole and spit you far, far away from the Time Lord.

You hear the sound of thundering steps approach your room before the sound of frantic knocking against your door.

Before the person could utter a single word, you let out a strangled demand: “Go away!”

“(Y/N), I can—” the Doctor cut himself short. He let out a frustrated huff before starting again. “Please, it’s not what you think.”

Those words snapped you out of your whirlwind of sadness. Anger bubbled in its place.

“Not what I think?!” You didn’t think twice before forcefully opening the door. The Doctor jumps from his spot in front of your room, a show of surprise on his face. “I heard everything.”

The Doctor places his hand up in surrender. The cold, neutral face he had on before is completely wiped away, leaving a startlingly emotional one instead. “Please, if you give me a moment—”

“What more could you say to me?” It comes out shaky, with tears still dripping down your face in rivers. You no doubt look like a complete wreck, but you’re too upset to care. You’re tired of bottling your emotions up. You want him to know how much this meant to you, how much his words physically hurt you. “I know you’re already upset at me that I didn’t listen to you, I know that. You don’t get to stand there and act like this is a whole misunderstanding. I mean come on—fragile human?”

“I know and I’m—”

“I was so relieved to see you again. Three days, Doctor. Three whole days, spent in that cell waiting for you. I felt so guilty for not listening and I hoped that we could reconcile, but no. I was fine with giving you space, but then I had to overhear you talk about me like I’m some burden.” You force yourself to take a deep breath, choosing your next words carefully. “Is that how you really feel about me?”

The Doctor doesn’t respond, which makes you even more angry.

“Did you know?” you spit out. It took everything in you to not shut the door in his face and never come outside again. But you needed to know. “Did you know?”

The silence that came thereafter was deafening. The Doctor let his hands drop to his sides. You didn’t dare blink, watching his every move, waiting for a response. His head dips to the side, his lower lip caught in his teeth as he stares at a spot on the floor. You knew he knew what you were referring to.

When he lifts his head, you were surprised to see such bare remorse. Still, it does nothing to quell you; if anything you’re happy he’s feeling the guilt.

“Yes…I knew for a while,” he mumbled, forcing the words to come out. “Rory’s mum told me, said that you liked me. I told her that of course you liked me, I’m the Doctor. But she gave me a serious look and told me you fancied me.” His lips twisted up at the memory, but seeing your withering glare he quickly dropped it.

You gripped the doorframe, recalling the visit clearly. The Ponds had called you, wanting to go on another adventure after nearly three months of normalcy on Earth. In their absence, it was just you and the Doctor against the universe. Three months of staring longingly at the madman in a box, wanting to spill your guts but feeling too scared to. When the Ponds came back, you remembered Rory’s mum taking the Doctor to the side, whispering in his ear. You had asked what she said, but the Doctor gave a flustered reply. His ears were pink, and his words were hastily spat out.

“That was over a year ago. You knew all that time?” You wanted to scream every curse you knew, both English and alien. It took everything in you to not tear him a new one right then and there. “And I had to hear you say it to Amy of all people? Someone who also fancied you, and if I recalled kissed you?”

It was unfair to throw that back in his face knowing that they moved on from that incident. Amy had since made it explicitly clear that she loved him platonically and was wholly committed to Rory.

The Doctor took a tentative step towards you, unsure if you were going to disappear back into your room. He took another, and another. You couldn’t look him in the eyes, opting to stare at his scuffed shoes.

You could feel him get closer. It unnerved how much you still wanted to be near him, despite everything.

The Doctor’s hands found the curve of your cheek, gently tilting your face up to meet his gaze. Warm palms cupped the sides of your face and his thumbs wiping away the tears that still fell. The sheer intensity of his gaze pinned you in place, burning into you. You watch as his green irises start getting glassy; the planes of his cheeks become a flushed pink. He stood there for a few moments, simply holding your face, looking at you as if it’s the last time he ever will.

You let yourself bask in his touch. He took another step towards you, still holding your face. You closed your eyes as you felt the cool touch of his forehead against yours.

“Doctor—”

“You have every right to be upset.” He gave a chuckle, but you heard the pain in his voice. “You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you. I looked forward to the nights where you pester me with odd questions. Every morning I pray that you stay another day with me, hoping that you don’t wish to go back to Earth.”

The confession scares him, you feel it in the way he tries to keep his voice even. When he pulls his forehead from yours, he still hovers over your face, staring with the heat of all the feelings he tried so desperately to hide.

His eyes move over every inch of your face before settling back to your swollen eyes. You watch his eyes soften, as if he’s seeing the most beautiful star nestled in the depths of your pupils. So focused on the heat of his hands and the movement of his eyes, that you almost miss the twin stream of tears running down his own face.

The Doctor took one shuddering breath, letting his thoughts flow out. “I couldn’t let myself acknowledge my feelings—I couldn’t. Everyone I ever loved…everyone I got close to is gone because of me. I couldn’t let that happen, especially not to you. But then you had to get yourself kidnapped.” His voice trailed off, cracking at the memory.

You dared not to move, fearful that he would snap out of the spell he found himself in. You can’t recall a time where he was this open to you, about his feelings no less. All the pent up emotion you felt before settled to a dull throb in your heart.

“I would’ve brought the entire fleet down on its knees, have them beg for mercy.” You felt the rage in his voice, knowing full well that he meant every word. “When I couldn’t find you, I was terrified. You were gone before…”

His hands trembled, his breath became more ragged. You’ve never seen true terror on his face.

You whisper, just barely audible to his ears. “Before what Doctor?”

He shakes his head, almost wishing he didn’t open his mouth. When you silently pressed him to answer, he couldn't help but cave.

“I lied back there, with Amy,” the Doctor rushed, trying to get all his disorganized thoughts out. “I lied—I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t mean it.”

“What? Didn’t mean wha—”

“It already happened,” he cried, his body caving towards you. “I told myself I couldn’t let myself love you. I…I lied.”

You felt your heart stop for the second time today. Your mouth slightly agape, unsure of how to respond. The Doctor takes a half step, effectively caging your body against his. You own shaking hands rested atop of his, hoping to calm him.

“Every moment I spent with you, I spent yearning,” he says with such emphasis that leaves no room for doubt. You cry harder at the admission. “I took my frustration on you, made you think that I could never love you. I do—Stars, I do. You have no idea how much I do.”

You couldn’t hold back the loud sob that overtakes your whole body. A cry that leaves the Doctor’s two hearts aching knowing that he caused your pain. He continues to rub his thumbs over your cheeks, not to wipe away the tears, but to soothe you.

“Say it,” you plead, words scraping against your throat. “Say it and I’m yours. I’ll be yours forever.”

Your words trigger something in him, that same fear that made him distant towards you. He doesn’t move from his spot, paralyzed by the decision.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” came his equally desperate reply. “I can’t lose you too.”

“We’ll find a way. You always do.”

The Doctor sags against you, resting his forehead against yours once more. Cries of his own shake him, his tears joining yours on the TARDIS floor. You take it upon yourself to mirror his actions; your hands gently holding his face. His once bright, crystal green eyes were now blurred with tears, encased by swollen, flushed eyelids.

“I love you.”

A barely audible whisper, one meant for you. Said with such raw intensity that it echoes in your ear, seared in your mind forever.

The Doctor clears his throat, furrowing his brows in concentration. “I love you. Stars above, I love you.” He speaks louder, not wanting you to miss a word. “I’ve loved you for years and I was too much of a coward to tell you. I’ll make it up to you, show you how much I’ve wanted you, if you let me.”

A smile stretched across your face. Pure euphoria filled your body, buzzing with a high that made you lightheaded. You feeled the charged energy between you two. The Doctor stills, anxiously awaiting for your response.

“I’m yours,” you say in the shared space between you. A declaration, waiting for the final seal. “I love you, Doctor.”

The Doctor slants against you, finally removing the last inch of space between you. His kiss falls over you like the whispered confession he had given you. His lips mold against yours, slow and lingering. One kiss, then another. You grasp onto him, your hand threading into his hair, another along his jacket. His hands no longer tremble. You feel his palms leave your face and travel down to the curve of your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to his body.

When you pull away to breath, he wastes no time burying his face against your neck, peppering the heated skin with kiss after kiss. He finds the spot where your pulse meets your jaw, sucking on the skin harshly, making you shudder. The Doctor overwhelms your senses; his touch, his scent, the taste of his mouth—

The Doctor gives one final kiss against your lips, before releasing you. He watches you catch your breath, seeing your relieved smile stretching across your face. He feels his face mirroring that same delirious smile.

I’m yours, his two hearts sing. I’m yours forever.

#eleventh doctor request #eleventh doctor x y/n #eleventh doctor x you #eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor #doctor who #bbc doctor who #11th doctor x you #11th doctor x reader #11th doctor x y/n #eleventh doctor angst #11th doctor angst

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