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pucksandpower · 3 months

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Help, My Cat Drank My Red Bull!

Max Verstappen x veterinarian!Reader

Summary: in which Sassy gets into an open can of Max’s energy drink and inadvertently leads Max to the love of his life

Max sighs as he exits the sim-rig, stretching his arms over his head. After a few intense hours of virtual racing, he could use a pick-me-up.

He wanders into the kitchen, spotting the full can of Red Bull he had left on the counter earlier.

Perfect.

But as Max reaches for the energy drink, something catches his eye — a sticky puddle on the granite countertop where the can should be. He leans in, sniffing cautiously. The unmistakable sweet scent of Red Bull wafts up.

“What the ...” His voice trails off as a blur of tan fur darts past the corner of his vision.

Sassy skids into view. Her pupils are dilated to the size of marbles and she’s practically vibrating with excess energy. Max’s jaw drops as the realization hits.

“No, no, you didn’t ...”

But the evidence is irrefutable. Sassy must have knocked over the can and lapped up every sugary drop.

Max runs a hand through his curls, panic rising. Too much caffeine could be incredibly dangerous for a cat her size. He needs to get her to a vet right away, but at — he checks his watch — 2:14 in the morning, his usual clinic will be closed.

“Come here, Sassy!” He calls, slowly advancing on the hyper feline.

But Sassy just stares at him, unblinking, before bolting in the opposite direction with a manic burst of speed. Max gives chase, cursing under his breath as she darts around furniture and ricochets off walls. After several frantic minutes of pursuit, he finally manages to corner the cat and scoop her into a carrier.

Sassy yowls in protest as Max secures the door, but he has no choice. He grabs his keys and races down to the parking garage, carefully settling the carrier into the passenger seat of his bright red Ferrari before peeling out toward the nearest emergency vet clinic.

The drive seems to take an eternity with Sassy howling the whole way. Max’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel as he haphazardly parks outside the clinic and jumps out, slamming the door behind him.

Only to stop dead a few steps later, the realization crashing over him like a wave. In his haste, he left the cat in the car.

“Shit!” Max spins on his heel, cheeks burning as he hurries back and grabs the carrier, cradling it awkwardly against his chest.

He strides through the front doors of the clinic, the receptionist looking up in surprise at his abrupt entrance.

“Please,” Max gasps out, eyes wide. “My cat, she drank a whole can of Red Bull. What do I do?”

The receptionist’s brows knit together briefly before her features smooth into a professional mask. “Okay sir, please have a seat in exam room three. The doctor will be right with you.”

Max nods frantically, hurrying down the hallway as directed and gently depositing the carrier on the exam table. He resumes his pacing, running anxious hands through his hair.

After what feels like an eternity, the door finally opens. But the person who walks in absolutely takes Max’s breath away.

You are, without a doubt, the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen. From your cascading locks to your warm eyes, Max can’t tear his gaze away. Your figure is highlighted by pale blue scrubs as you cross the room, a soft smile playing at the corners of your mouth.

“Good morning, I’m Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. What seems to be the trouble?”

Max’s throat is suddenly, inexplicably dry. He clears it harshly. “U-uh, hi. I’m Max. Max Verstappen. My cat, Sassy, she — well, I had a can of Red Bull out and she must have knocked it over because when I came back, it was empty but the counter was sticky and then she was just … super hyper and crazy ...”

His words stumble to a halt as you lean over, gently pulling the still-feisty Sassy from her carrier and depositing her on the table. You murmur soothingly, stroking her soft fur as you examine her dilated pupils and elevated pulse.

“Hmm, yes, it does sound like she’s had a bit too much caffeine.” You shoot Max a reassuring smile that makes his heart skip a beat. “Not to worry though, we’ll get her taken care of.”

As you deftly slip a mild sedative into the crook of Sassy’s leg, Max can’t help but watch in awe at how gentle and caring you are. He’s never seen someone so compassionate and loving toward an animal before.

Within minutes, the sedative takes effect and Sassy transforms from a blur of frantic energy to a lazy puddle of fur, watching the room with heavy-lidded eyes. You scratch between her ears, lips quirked.

“There we go, that’s better. She’ll be feeling pretty groggy for the next little while as the caffeine works its way out of her system.”

Max nods dumbly, completely mesmerized as you deftly check Sassy’s vitals again.

“Her temperature and heart rate are looking good. I’d just recommend keeping her awake and hydrated until the effects have fully worn off in six to eight hours, then she should be back to normal.”

“Okay, yeah. Thank you so much, really,” Max gushes, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I was so worried when I realized what happened.”

You shrug with an easy smile. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all. Better to get these things checked out, just to be safe.” A teasing glint enters your expressive eyes. “Although, I have to ask — how exactly does a Red Bull can get knocked over and lapped up by a cat?”

Max feels his cheeks flush again as your gaze meets his, warm and friendly and so incredibly beautiful up close.

He clears his throat. “Uh, well, you see I was sim racing for a while and just left it out, which was dumb of me ...”

As he rambles through the explanation, Max can’t tear his eyes away from the crinkles that form around your eyes when you smile or the melodic lilt of your laughter. By the time he’s finished, he’s even more smitten than before.

An awkward silence falls as you finish up examining Sassy. You turn back to Max, expression soft.

“Well, it seems like your girl is going to be just fine. I’ll get the discharge paperwork ready for you.”

Your footsteps retreat toward the door and panic seizes Max’s chest. He can’t just let you walk away, not without at least trying ...

“Hey, uh, Dr. Y/N?” He calls out before he can overthink it.

You pause, eyebrows raised expectantly as you turn back.

Max suddenly can’t remember what he was going to say. His mind goes blank, palms growing sweaty, as he shuffles his feet. The words completely escape him as he’s overwhelmed by your warmth and beauty.

“I, uh … thanks again. For helping Sassy,” he stammers out instead, mentally kicking himself.

You smile patiently. “Of course, I’m just glad she’s going to be okay.”

An awkward silence stretches between you as Max wars internally, desperately trying to muster the courage to ask you out properly. But the moment slips away as you begin to turn back toward the door.

“Well, I’ll get those discharge papers ready for you.”

“Right, yeah, okay. Thanks ...” Max’s words trail off lamely as you exit the room.

He squeezes his eyes shut, smacking his forehead in frustration. He just completely blew his chance with the most incredible woman he’s ever met, all because he’s a bumbling idiot who can’t even form a simple sentence around someone that effortlessly beautiful and caring.

Max blows out a long breath, trying to refocus on the fact that Sassy is going to be alright, at least. As he carefully gathers her sleepy form back into her carrier, he can’t help the pang of regret that settles in his chest.

Maybe your paths will cross again someday under better circumstances. A guy can dream, right?

***

The next week drags by for Max in a blur of monotony. He finds his thoughts drifting constantly back to the emergency vet clinic, replaying his disastrous non-attempt at asking you out on a date. Just the memory of your radiant smile and warm eyes is enough to make his heart stutter.

But as the days pass with no sign of you around Monaco, Max’s hope slowly fades. Of course someone as incredibly kind, caring, and beautiful as you would never go for an awkward guy like him. He’s an idiot for thinking he even had a chance.

Exactly one week after the Red Bull incident with Sassy, Max is moping on his couch, idly stroking Jimmy as he channel surfs. He pauses on a cheesy romcom, watching with mild disdain as the bumbling male lead performs increasingly ridiculous stunts all for a chance to see his love interest again.

It’s utterly ridiculous. And yet … Max feels a strange sense of kinship with the hapless romantic on screen.

Because as he stares at the TV, a crazy idea begins to take shape. If he wants to see you again so badly, why not take a page from the movie’s playbook? With a jolt of determination, Max scoops up a disgruntled Jimmy and tucks him into his carrier.

“Looks like you’re coming with me on an adventure, buddy,” Max murmurs, grinning slightly at Jimmy’s unmistakable look of disdain. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it worth your while. I just need you to play along so I can see Y/N again. You’re going to help me make her yours and Sassy’s new mom.”

Jimmy yawns pointedly, seemingly unimpressed with Max’s romantic scheming. Max just chuckles, scratching the cat between the ears before grabbing his keys and heading for the garage.

He settles Jimmy’s carrier into the passenger seat of his Ferrari, the engine roaring to life under his expert control. As he navigates Monaco’s winding streets, Max keeps up a steady stream of conversation with his distinctly unreceptive feline audience.

“You’re going to love Y/N, I just know it,” he insists, pulling up to a red light. “She’s the kindest, most compassionate person I’ve ever met. The way she took care of Sassy with such patience and gentleness ...” Max shakes his head in wonder. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Jimmy blinks slowly at him, conveying an impressive blend of judgment and displeasure at being awake, much less participating in this ridiculous plan. Max just barrels onward.

“Look, I know this seems crazy. But Y/N … she’s just special, you know? And if this is what it takes to get to know her better, then I’m all in.”

He pulls up to the familiar sight of the clinic, parking much more calmly this time before grabbing Jimmy’s carrier and heading inside. The same receptionist from before looks up in surprise as he approaches.

“You again? Is everything okay with Sassy?”

Panic grips Max’s chest as he realizes he didn’t actually come up with an excuse for bringing Jimmy in beforehand. He scrambles for something, anything, to say.

“Uh, well, actually it’s Jimmy here who needs to be seen,” he rushes out, nodding toward the disgruntled cat. “You see, I was just, uh … brushing him earlier and he seemed great. But then I went to pick him up and it was like … bam!” Max mimes an explosion gesture. “Total f-fur explosion, just hair going everywhere! It was like he was … moulting, but not in the normal way, you know?”

By the time Max finishes, the receptionist is staring at him in bewilderment. He can feel the flush creeping up the back of his neck as she blinks slowly.

“A … fur explosion,” she repeats flatly.

“Exactly!” Max insists with a vigorous nod. “Just an absolute furpocalypse, you would not believe it. So I figured I’d better bring him in to get checked out, just in case?”

A beat passes as the receptionist seems to silently debate arguing with him further. Finally, she just shakes her head.

“Okay, well … go ahead and take Jimmy back to exam room three again. Dr. Y/L/N will be right with you.”

Max’s heart leaps into his throat at the mention of your name as he forces a polite smile and heads back down the hallway to the familiar room. He carefully lets Jimmy out to explore as they wait, praying fervently that you’ll actually be the one to walk through that door.

The minutes drag by in tense silence, Max gnawing nervously at his thumbnail. Just as he’s starting to think this was all a terrible idea, the door swings open and you step inside.

It’s like the world stops spinning for a moment. You are … breathtaking, even more gorgeous than Max remembered. From your tumbling locks of hair to the gentle curve of your smile, he’s completely mesmerized all over again.

You glance up from the chart in your hands, doing a slight double-take as you recognize Max.

“Well, hello again you!” Your voice is bright and melodic. “I can’t say I was expecting to see you back so soon. What happened?”

Your inquisitive gaze meets Max’s and he very nearly blurts out the entire truth right then and there — that he absolutely made up an excuse just for the chance to see you again. Somehow, he bites back the words at the last moment.

“Oh, uh, it was the weirdest thing,” he stammers instead, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I was brushing Jimmy, my other cat, earlier and all of a sudden his fur just started … exploding everywhere! Like, full-on furmageddon. It was insane.”

He cringes inwardly at how stupid he sounds, watching as a crease forms between your brows in contemplation. After a moment, though, your features smooth out into an easy smile and you move closer to gently stroke Jimmy’s silky fur.

“Well, let’s take a look, shall we?”

For the next several minutes, Max watches in rapt fascination as you thoroughly examine Jimmy from ears to tail, gentle hands ghosting over his fur as you murmur soothing reassurances. Just being in your presence is intoxicating.

You’re so caring and patient, even with the obviously fabricated reason Max invented to see you again. It only makes his growing infatuation burn all the brighter.

Finally, you straighten back up and turn to Max with a warm smile.

“Well, I can definitively say there was no fur explosion or moulting crisis with Mr. Jimmy here,” you tease lightly, arching one perfect eyebrow. “He seems perfectly healthy to me. Is there anything else I can help you with today?”

Your knowing look pins Max in place, cheeks flushing guiltily. He rubs at the back of his neck again, trying to decide if he should just come clean or stubbornly dig himself deeper into this ridiculous invented scenario.

But as he opens his mouth, ready to try and bumble through another excuse, something stops him. Maybe it’s the patient understanding in your warm gaze or the gentle amusement playing at the corners of your mouth. Or maybe it’s just Dutch stubbornness rearing its head.

Either way, Max’s words grind to a halt as he takes a deep, fortifying breath.

“You know what? I’m just going to put it all out there,” he blurts before he can second guess himself further. “The truth is … I made up this whole thing as an excuse to come see you again.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but Max presses onward, suddenly unable to stem the flow of words.

“I tried to ask you out last week after you helped Sassy but I completely chickened out like an idiot. And I just … I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about how caring and amazing you were.”

Max’s heart thunders in his ears as he runs an anxious hand through his hair.

“So, I don’t know, I got this stupid idea to bring Jimmy in so I could see you again. Which is insane, I know, and you probably think I’m some total weirdo stalker creep now but-”

“Max.” Your soft voice cuts through his panicked rambling like a lighthouse beam in the fog. “Breathe.”

He sucks in a shuddery breath, feeling his cheeks flush scarlet under your gaze. This is it, the moment you shut him down for being a complete crazy person and he has to slink out of here in shame. Maybe he can move to Timbuktu and become a goat herder to escape his humiliation-

“I have to admit, this is a new one for me,” you continue, a teasing lilt to your words. “Most guys don’t go to such elaborate lengths just to see me again.”

You take a step closer, eyes sparking with a hint of mischief that has Max’s breath catching in his throat.

“Though I have to say, faking a pet illness is definitely an … original move. Do you go to such dramatic extremes for all your romantic pursuits?”

Max can’t help but huff out a surprised laugh at that, some of the tightly-wound tension easing from his shoulders.

“No, I uh … you’re pretty definitively the first person I’ve literally made my cat an accomplice just to spend more time with.”

The laughter that bubbles up from you at that is bright and infectious, warmth blooming in Max’s chest as he drinks in the delighted crinkles at the corners of your eyes.

“Well, as harebrained schemes go, I suppose I’ve encountered worse,” you tease warmly. “Though in the future, you’re welcome to just ask me out like a normal person.”

A weighted pause hangs between you as realization dawns in Max’s thundering heart. Is this … is this your way of giving him that very opening?

He clears his throat roughly, feeling oddly like he’s standing at the edge of a precipice, every molecule vibrating with anticipation and hope and sheer, pounding need.

“Does that mean … I mean, would you want to?” The words stick in his suddenly dry throat. “Go out with me, that is? On like … a date?”

The breath rushes from Max’s lungs in a dizzying whoosh as he finally gets the words out. He watches you intently, hands clenched into nervous fists as he waits for your response with bated breath.

For a moment, you’re quiet, considering him with an inscrutable expression. The silence seems to stretch into eternity, suffocating Max as a thousand worst-case scenarios start to race through his mind.

This is it, he’s blown it forever. You’re going to turn him down, probably with a gentle let-down about having to be professional or not dating clients or something. He’ll be crushed, forced to slink away and change his name and flee to the farthest reaches of Nepal to become a hermit and-

And then, finally, you smile. It’s soft and warm and sends relief crashing through Max in a blissful wave.

“You know what, Max? I would really like that.”

He blinks, feeling a little dizzy as the words bounce around his head. “You … you would?”

You laugh again, low and melodic, taking another step toward him. “I would. In fact, I’d love nothing more.”

A giddy grin splits Max’s face before he can rein it in. You actually said yes! To him! After his utterly insane made-up pet emergency, you still somehow agreed to go out with him.

The absurd wave of giddy elation and disbelief must show on his face, because you shake your head fondly.

“What am I going to do with you, Max Verstappen?” You say, voice warm with wry amusement. “Anyone else might have turned and ran after that nonsense, but I have to admit … there’s something terribly endearing about your attempts at romance.”

You brush past him then, headed for the door with a coquettish glance over your shoulder.

“I’ll get those discharge papers ready. And maybe once the completely fabricated fur crisis is dealt with, you can take me out for that date one of these days?”

Max can only nod dumbly, wide smile still firmly in place as the exam room door swings shut behind you. He glances down at a disgruntled Jimmy, scratching his cat’s ears with a breathy chuckle.

“Looks like your little acting gig paid off after all, buddy. Your new mom’s gonna take me out on a date!”

***

A few months later, Max can barely contain his excitement as he weaves through the familiar organized chaos of the Monaco paddock. This race holds a special thrill every year as one of the marquee events on the calendar. But today, there’s an extra level of anticipation thrumming through his veins.

Because for the first time ever, you’re here with him.

After months of gentle coaxing and meticulously planned days off, he’s finally convinced you to spend an entire race weekend as his guest. The chance to show you his world, the intoxicating intensity of a Grand Prix up close, fills Max with a buzz of elation.

He can’t wait for you to experience it all — the roar of finely-tuned engines, the crunch of data analysis, and even the mundane periods of hurry-up-and-wait that are all just part of the hectic lifestyle he loves. Just having you by his side makes everything seem that much more vibrant and alive.

Max throws you a brilliant grin as he catches your eye, unable to resist drinking in how gorgeous you look, face glowing with curiosity and excitement at taking it all in. His breath catches a little at the warmth in your returned smile. Even after months together, he’s still constantly amazed that this funny, caring, wonderful woman actually agreed to be his.

A gentle hand on his arm breaks through Max’s reverie. He glances over to find his trainer indicating they should move on for the next pre-race commitment. Max nods easily, squeezing your hand as he slows.

“Why don’t you wait here? I’ll just be a couple minutes with Rupert going over some details, then we can grab some food, yeah?”

“Sounds perfect.” You lean in to press a lingering kiss to his cheek that makes his head swim. “I’ll be here.”

Max’s grin is so wide it borders on goofy as he tears himself away to follow Rupert toward the motorhome, throwing one last look over his shoulder. You’ve settled onto a stack of tires just around the corner, radiant smile still in place as you watch the surrounding action unfold.

His trainer’s voice pulls Max back to the present as they walk, and he does his best to shelf his heartsick infatuation for a few minutes to focus. This is it, the most famous race of the year. The track with no room for error during qualifying. He should be mentally locking in, triple checking every detail and sensor read-out.

Instead, his mind keeps drifting back to how soft your lips felt against his cheek, how undeniably right it feels to share this with you.

By the time their brief walk-through wraps up, Max is practically shaking with anticipation to rejoin you. Only as he turns back toward where he left you, jacket slung over his arm … you’re nowhere to be seen.

A crease forms between Max’s brows as he scans the scattered tires and tool chests, looking for your familiar figure. You couldn’t have gone far in such a short span.

Then a flash of movement from the Mercedes garage entrance catches his eye and Max feels his heart plummet. There you are, crouched down animatedly in front of the German team’s pit … with none other than Lewis Hamilton and his bloody bulldog Roscoe.

Of course. Of course Lewis-freaking-Hamilton would zoom in the second Max’s back was turned to try and work his charms on you. Even bringing that dumb dog out like the world’s most obnoxious prop to appeal to your soft heart for animals.

Max sees red, an irrational wave of protective jealousy surging through his veins as he watches you laugh at something Lewis says, completely charmed. Your hand strokes Roscoe’s broad head idly, pure affection written across your features.

And just like that, Max is moving before his brain can catch up, feet carrying him hastily across the pavement as if drawn by an invisible cord.

You glance up as he approaches, smile stretching even wider. “Max! Lewis was just-”

But Max pays your words no mind, slipping an arm around your waist and tugging you snugly against his side as he sizes up Lewis with narrowed eyes.

“Everything okay over here?” His gaze pointedly avoids the dog panting at their feet.

He sees confusion flicker across your features, but Lewis just chuckles good-naturedly.

“Just making a new friend is all! Your girl here is an absolute natural with Roscoe.” He shoots you a warm grin and motions to his dog, who thumps his stubby tail happily against the pavement.

Max feels his jaw tighten, irrational possessiveness flaring hot and bright as Lewis’ approving gaze lingers a little too long for his liking.

“Oh, the pup’s adorable!” You enthuse, dropping into a crouch again to ruffle Roscoe’s velvety ears. “You’re being such a good boy, aren’t you?”

Max scowls down at the dog, annoyed by his besotted panting and frantically wagging tail as you dole out affectionate pats. Like the mangy thing has any inkling how lucky he is.

Leave it to Lewis to trot out something irresistibly cute like that just to try and win you over.

Seeming to sense his silent brooding, you straighten back up and loop your arm through Max’s, squeezing his bicep gently. “I’m getting a little thirsty, actually. Do you mind if I run to the hospitality tent for a drink quickly?”

Lewis perks up instantly. “I can show you whe-”

“She knows the way,” Max cuts him off, perhaps a bit too sharply judging by your surprised blink. He softens his tone with an effort. “To Red Bull hospitality, I mean. I’ll walk you over.”

He turns on his heel, tugging you along in the wake of his hasty dismissal. Your brows knit together and you open your mouth, no doubt to question his odd behavior.

But Max stubbornly presses on, only slowing once you’ve turned past a row of transport trucks and the Mercedes garage is out of sight. He releases a long, slow breath, some of the weird, clawing tension ebbing away now that you’re back by his side.

“Everything alright?” You ask carefully, mouth curved into a bemused half-smile. “That was … a bit of an abrupt exit back there.”

Max snorts, shaking his head ruefully as you fall into step together. How is he supposed to put this in a way that doesn’t make him sound like a completely irrational, jealous idiot?

“Yeah, everything’s great. Just felt like it was time to move on before Lewis could really get going, you know?” He shoots you a sidelong look, arching one brow meaningfully. “Dude loves to hear himself talk.”

You huff out an amused breath, lips twitching like you’re struggling not to grin wider. “I’m not sure I’d go that far. He seems perfectly lovely from what I could tell.”

Max shrugs one shoulder, brushing off the statement and its implicit critique of his attitude. Lewis is a fine enough guy … he just also happens to be a chronic flirt who clearly recognizes a beautiful, charming woman when he sees one. And that activates Max’s protective instincts on a level he didn’t quite anticipate until he saw Lewis zeroing in on you like that.

You drift closer as you walk, bumping his shoulder with yours playfully.

“You know, it was kind of sweet, actually — him bringing Roscoe out to meet me. I think he knew I’m a sucker for a cute dog.”

Sweet. Right. Because Lewis was just doing it all out of the goodness of his bleeding heart.

“Don’t you mean Roscoe is the real competition here?” Max tries for a teasing tone, only half-joking. “Pretty sure that mutt was the one working overtime to charm you.”

He tosses you an exaggerated leer, stoking the banter to cover his lingering irrational annoyance at the entire situation. If you noticed his blatant brush-off of Lewis, you’re being mercifully subtle about calling it out.

Sure enough, you lift one delicately arched brow, lips curved into an indulgent smile. “Is that so? And here I thought it was just Lewis trying to get on my good side. My, what a dilemma!”

Max chuckles despite himself at your playful tone, some of the weird tension ebbing further from his shoulders. Of course you’re not fazed by all this nonsense — you never are. Not only are you unfailingly kind and patient, but you clearly know him well enough by now to recognize when his protective instincts are causing the occasional bout of unreasonable jealousy.

Even though he swears up and down he isn’t actually jealous, not really. Just … being cautious after finally finding someone as incredible as you.

Red Bull hospitality comes into view up ahead, its distinctive energy drink logos splashed across the entrance. You start to slow as you approach, hand trailing lightly down Max’s arm until your fingers brush his.

“I wasn’t gone that long, you know,” you point out, regarding him with those warm, knowing eyes. “I wouldn’t just run off and leave you behind on your big weekend.”

Something in your tone, soft yet insistent, assures Max that you see right through his childishly competitive display. He doesn’t even have the decency to look sheepish as you continue.

“Max, you don’t have to worry about anyone trying to steal me away or whatever it is that’s going through that handsome head of yours. I’m yours, remember?”

Your fingers tangle through his and your free hand comes up to cup his cheek, grounding him fully in the moment. He nods slowly, leaning into your touch as the last wisps of stupid, needless jealousy evaporate under the warmth of your fond gaze.

“You’re right, I know. I do remember.” He turns his head slightly, brushing his lips across your palm. “And I’m yours.”

“Exactly.” You raise up on your tiptoes to dust a feather-light kiss across his mouth that leaves Max’s head spinning delightfully. “Now, what do you say we get something to drink so we can enjoy the rest of the weekend together?”

Max grins, feeling lighter than he has all day as he catches your hand and tugs you toward the tent entrance.

“Lead the way, liefje. I’ll follow you anywhere.”

And he absolutely would, too — past Lewis and Roscoe and any irrational jealousy that rears its head. Because having you by his side through all the whirlwind of Formula 1, getting to share this wild life with the woman he loves more and more every day?

It’s the only competition Max has any interest in winning.

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misspygmypie · 1 month

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We're A Team, On And Off The Track

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Requested: Yes Summary: Your period cramps are unbearable after a race and Lando is there to make you feel better. Words: 2.3k

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

With every corner, you felt the weight of the pain more intensely, and it was getting harder to focus on the track. Your vision was blurring slightly, and you could hear Tom’s voice through the headset, but it seemed like it was coming from far away.

“Y/n, are you ok?”

“Yeah I’m alright,” you stated, taking a sharp breath.

Tom’s voice crackled again, urgent but supportive. “Y/n, just a bit more, you’re almost there. You’re doing great.”

You nodded to yourself, even though your race engineer couldn’t see it. “I’ve got this,” you muttered through gritted teeth. The pain was still relentless and even getting worse, but you were determined to not give up.

You maneuvered through the last few corners with every ounce of strength you had left. Your hands were gripping the wheel so tightly your knuckles were white, and you fought against the nausea threatening to overtake you.

The finish line was just ahead. You could almost taste the relief. You pushed through the final stretch, the sound of the engine roaring in your ears, a welcome distraction from the pain. As you crossed the line a wave of exhaustion washed over you.

Tom’s voice was the first thing you heard clearly after you crossed the line. “P6! Great job, Y/n! We’re all so proud of you.”

You managed a small, pained smile. “Thanks, Tom,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You were already thinking about the bed and the pain relievers you so desperately needed.

As you pulled into the pit lane, Tom and your team were there, ready to help you out of the car. You could feel Tom’s worried look on you. “It’s okay,” you replied, your voice hoarse. “Just… I need to lie down.”

Lando, your boyfriend and fellow driver of the McLaren team, was already waiting for you in the garage, having finished P4 and smiled at you. But just as you had put your helmet down and were walking over to him it happened. A sharp pain hit your lower abdomen and you could’ve sworn somebody stabbed you with a knife. The lights and colors in front of your eyes swirled together and slowly faded away as darkness took over. The pain was so strong you felt like you were about to pass out and you quickly wobbled over to the nearest wall to lean on.

“Y/n, oh my god,” you heard Lando’s panicked voice. “Baby, are you ok? Tom, get Dr. Hughes.”

Two soft hands grabbed your face and slowly, as your nausea subsided a bit, you could make out the worried face of your boyfriend.

You tried to focus on Lando’s face, his concern evident in every feature. The pain was still intense, but his presence brought a small bit of comfort amidst the stabbing feeling in your lower abdomen. As he gently helped you to a nearby chair, you took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself.

“I’m… I’m okay,” you managed to say, though the words came out strained. “Just… cramps. They’re really bad today.”

Lando’s expression softened, though the worry didn’t leave his eyes. He crouched down in front of you, his hands still holding yours. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

You looked away, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment. “I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to be seen as weak or—”

“Y/n,” he interrupted gently but firmly. “You’re not weak. You’re incredible, and I hate seeing you like this. You should have told someone.”

Before you could respond, Dr. Hughes - the McLaren team doctor - appeared, his face concerned but relieved when he saw you sitting down. “Lando, can you give us a minute?” he asked softly, and Lando nodded, though he clearly wasn’t happy to leave your side.

Dr. Hughes crouched beside you, his professional demeanor slipping through with a compassionate touch. “How long have you been in this much pain?” he asked as he started checking your vitals.

“Since the start of the race,” you admitted quietly. “I didn’t want to drop out. I thought I could manage it.”

The doctor nodded, understanding. “Here's some medication and I will get some more for you to take with you. You need to rest.”

As he left to fetch the necessary supplies, Lando stayed close, his hand still holding yours. “I hope nobody pressured you into thinking you had to race today.”

“No, Lando, nobody even knew. I made the choice to race. I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

“Ok,” he said, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “But next time, please let me or someone else help. We don’t want you to suffer like this alone.”

Lando stayed by your side, holding your hand and keeping quiet, letting you focus on getting through the pain. His presence was soothing, even if words weren’t necessary at the moment. You leaned back in the chair, feeling the medication start to take effect and the pain begin to recede, albeit slowly.

As the initial discomfort faded, you looked at Lando, seeing the love and concern in his eyes. “Thank you,” you said softly. “For being here. For understanding.”

He squeezed your hand gently. “Always,” he said. “You’re my priority, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re okay.”

Dr. Hughes soon returned with the extra pain relievers and guided both of you through the paddock. “Go to the hotel and rest for a while. We’ll take care of the rest.”

“Thank you,” Lando replied to the man with a sincere smile and just a few moments later you were on your way to the hotel.

Once you arrived Lando carefully helped you out of the car, his arm around your waist providing support as you moved toward the hotel’s back entrance. The side street was quiet, a stark contrast to the front where fans and media awaited. The sense of privacy and calm was exactly what you needed right now.

As you entered the hotel, Lando guided you to the elevator, his hand gently resting on your lower back. The ride up to your floor was quick, and he walked with you to the door of your shared room, fumbling with the keycard to get inside. Finally, he managed to get it open and ushered you in.

The quietness and peace of the room quickly embraced you. You immediately felt more comfortable not having to pretend like your own body wasn’t trying to rip you apart from the inside while being watched from hundreds of eyes at the same time. With a somewhat relaxing sigh you stripped off your shirt and jeans and threw them into the next corner.

“Arms up, baby,” Lando demanded and just a second after you had done so you could feel the soft fabric of one of his sweaters engulf you. Once your head popped out of the hole you were greeted by the soft smile of your boyfriend, who helped take the hood off your head and placed a gentle kiss on our nose.

Once you were changed, Lando helped you settle onto the bed, propping up some pillows to make you as comfortable as possible. He then went to fetch a glass of water and the medication the doctor had given you earlier.

“Here,” he said, handing you the glass and the pills. “Take these, they should help.”

You took the medication and swallowed it with a sip of water, then sank back into the pillows with a sigh of relief. Lando sat beside you on the bed, his hand still holding yours, his touch soothing.

“Do you want anything else? Maybe some warm tea?” he asked, his eyes full of concern.

“Tea would be wonderful,” you replied, feeling the medication beginning to ease the pain but knowing you could use a bit more comfort.

“Alright, I will be right back,” he proclaimed and hurried out of the room. When Lando returned, he was carrying a small bag from the hotel’s room service, a look of determination on his face. He set it down on the bedside table and opened it, revealing a couple of chocolate bars - comfort foods that he knew you loved - and a kettle he seemed to have gotten from the reception, which he quickly filled with water and turned on before preparing a steaming cup of herbal tea.

With the cup in hand he turned around to look at you. He saw the pained expression on your face and immediately sat down beside you, gently placing the tea and chocolate on the nightstand before helping you to adjust your position so you could get more comfortable.

“Here,” he said softly, handing you the tea. “This should help with the nausea. And I thought you might like some chocolate too.”

You took the tea with a grateful smile, savoring the warmth of the cup against your hands. Lando carefully helped you sip it, making sure you weren’t burning yourself. The smell was soothing, and you could already feel the calming effect as you drank it slowly.

Once you had finished a few sips, he took the empty cup from you and set it aside before walking over to his suitcase and pulling something out of it.

“Is that my hot water bottle?!” You gasped, looking at the fluffy pig shaped fabric in his hands.

Lando proudly presented it to you. “I packed it just in case. I just wanted to be prepared.”

You weren’t sure if it was the state you were in, the hormones or the simple fact that Lando proved once again how perfect of a boyfriend he was, but you could feel yourself tear up and soon the first wet streaks decorated your cheeks.

“Oh, baby, don’t cry” Lando begged, once again gently grabbing your face in his hands, his thumbs softly wiping away the tears. Then, he went to fill up the hot water bottle with the remaining water from the kettle, making sure it was at a comfortable temperature before placing it on your lower abdomen. The warmth began to spread, and you felt a significant reduction in the cramping pain.

He sat back down, brushing a stray hair from your face. “You did amazing out there today. I’m so proud of you, but I wish you didn’t have to push through so much pain.”

You looked at him, touched by his support. “I didn’t want to let anyone down. Especially not you or the team.”

Lando shook his head gently. “You didn’t let anyone down. You’re a fighter, but it’s okay to let others help you too. We’re a team, on and off the track.”

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion of the day beginning to take hold, while Lando pulled back the blankets and slid in beside you, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked softly, his breath warm against your hair.

“Much better,” you admitted with one last sniffle, snuggling closer to him. “Thank you for everything.”

Lando rested his chin on top of your head, his fingers gently stroking your back. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want you to feel better. And to know that you don’t have to go through this alone.”

The combined warmth of the heating pad, Lando’s embrace, and the tea made the pain and discomfort feel more manageable. You let out a contented sigh, feeling the support and love radiating from him.

“Can we stay like this for a bit?” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.

“Of course,” he said, his tone filled with affection. “We can stay like this for as long as you want.”

He continued to hold you, and the steady rhythm of his breathing, along with his gentle caresses, helped to lull you into a more restful state. Despite the lingering discomfort, you felt a deep sense of relief and safety in Lando’s arms. As you drifted off to sleep, the pain was still there but more bearable.

You awoke several hours later, something wet and clammy sticking to your face - Lando's shirt.

“Are you feeling better, baby?” Lando asked immediately after noticing you were awake.

You nodded softly. “I’m definitely warm enough as well…”

“Oh, thank god,” Lando exclaimed, “I was sweating my balls off with this thing pressed against my belly!” You chuckled while he tossed the hot water bottle as far away from you two as possible.

Lando’s playful grumbling about the hot water bottle brought a genuine smile to your face, the kind that felt long overdue after such a rough day.

“I’m sorry about the inconvenience,” you said with a soft laugh, “but I really appreciate you doing all this for me.”

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, his face still flushed from the heat. “No need to apologize. I’d do it all over again if it means making you feel better.”

Lando’s fingers continued their circles on your back, making it easy to drift back into relaxation. “How’s the pain?” he asked, his voice tender and concerned.

“Much better,” you replied, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. “The tea and the hot water bottle really helped.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Lando said with a relieved sigh. “I was worried that I might’ve overdone it with the hot water bottle, but it looks like it worked.”

“You were perfect,” you assured him, your hand finding his and squeezing it gently. “Really, I couldn’t have asked for a better person to be with me through this.”

He grinned and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Well, you’ve got the best boyfriend on call, so you’d better get used to it.”

As you snuggled closer to him, the exhaustion of the day began to fade away. It was moments like these that reaffirmed how lucky you felt to have him in your life.

#ln4 x reader #lando imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #lando norris #lando fluff #lando fic #lando x y/n #lando norris x y/n #landonorris #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

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bunnys-kisses · 9 months

Text

baby trapping (vol. 3) - nanami kento

pairing: nanami kento x fem!readerrating: 18+ summary: Nanami, Nanami, Nanami. Always such the gentleman. He brought you flowers, he drove you home from work. He was almost husband material! Except three months ago you rejected his proposal and since then he had been trying to get you pregnant.

So far had had been unsuccessful. tags: smut, pwp, baby-trapping, love hotels, dark themes, breeding/pregnancy kink, love hotels, unprotected smut

Vol. One (Toji), Vol. Two (Geto & Gojo)

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Nanami, Nanami, Nanami. Always such a gentleman. He brought you flowers, he drove you home from work. He was almost husband material! Except three months ago you rejected his proposal and since then he had been trying to get you pregnant.

So far it had not been successful.

The blond drove to your work in the expensive car he owned. He was on his way to pick you up from the dead-end job you somehow loved. He thought your talents could be useful elsewhere. Like the importat role of a stay-at-home mother to two beautiful children. But he hoped you'd at least have four children. Make the large empty house he owned into a home.

But you were so determined to be a young professional. You wanted to be working in an office. You wanted to go out for drinks and have a good time. There was a lot you wanted to do before you settled down. But Nanami was tired of waiting.

If you wouldn't accept his ring, then you'd have to accept his baby. Or rather babies.

You left work on time and met Nanami in the parking garage. You spotted the expensive car right away and quickly headed over to him. Your heart was in your throat as you got closer. You had a deep love for Nanami, you thought he was so perfect.

You were under the impression that he took the rejection well and was going to wait till you were most established at work before you got married! You got to the car and happily knocked on the passenger window then waved at him.

He smiled at you before he unlocked the door and opened it for you. His eyes darted to your legs where you gave him a flash of your panties under your business skirt. The sight made him tighten his grasp on the steering wheel.

He soon patted you on the thigh before he watched you buckle yourself in. He leaned over to kiss you on the lips, ”I was thinking, maybe, we could check into a hotel before dinner.“ He placed a hand on your thigh, ”I've been thinking of you all day and I don't think you want to be fucked in a resturant bathroom. I know you love a nice bed.“ He softly chuckled before he tucked hair behind your ear, ”How does that sound?“

You cupped his face as he gazed at you, ”Nanami.“ You giggled, ”Am I really that irresistible?“

He leaned in for another kiss, the way a dutiful boyfriend was, and replied, ”Yes, you know I look at you and can't get enough.“ Then kissed you once me. His hand grazed your inner thigh briefly before he pulled away. He watched you nod to his earlier question before he put the car into drive and headed off towards the nearest love hotel.

The hotel was nice, it blended rather nicely into the other buildings in the neighborhood. It wasn't hard to get a room and before you knew it, you were being tossed onto the bed like a rag doll.

He grabbed you by the hair as he pulled you in for another searing kiss. His cock twitched in his slacks at the thought of your beautiful form. You would be so beautiful pregnant, round with his child.

You would be so perfect with tender breasts filled with milk, a sore back and a heavy belly. He believed you'd be happier as his wife, he didn't know what got into your head about being stuck working at a job that would get you nowhere!

But you were so simple at times, sometimes women couldn't see the bigger picture. It wasn't your fault, Nanami would help you with that. He started to unbutton the front of your blouse.

“You look amazing.“ He said, ”You look more beautiful than anyone else on this earth.“ He could feel the heat in his face as he exposed your breasts to him, ”Fuck.“

You looked away, ”They're not that impressive, Nanami.“

He kissed down your neck, ”It's more than impressive. It's perfect.“ Then he started to leave marks on your skin and down to the tops of your breasts. He felt you start to loosen his tie.

He didn't let you throw it off the bed. He wrapped it in his left hand while he continued to give all his attention to your breasts. The marks were dark and could be seen easily. The notion of having his marks on you made you wet.

”Nanami.“

”You're perfect.“ He rubbed his clothed cock up against your clothed pussy. You could feel the weight of his erection against you, ”Let me take control tonight. Don't worry. I'll keep you safe.“

”Nan-“

”Trust me.“ He said softly. It was time to put his plan into action. Make you unsuspecting of him orgasming deep inside of you. To fill you with his cum until there was zero choice but to get pregnant.

All it took was one cell to find home with another. The thought aroused him, he didn't have to be sneaky with holes in the condom. He could easily impregnate you tonight, all you had to do was put your full trust into him.

You looked up into his eyes, there was a look of worry. There was even a crease in your brow that he smoothed out with his thumb. He smiled at you softly. Play the sheep until he could become the wolf.

”Alright, honey.“ You said as you reached to unzip your skirt, ”I trust you. I'll always trust you.“ Then gave him a broad smile as you unzipped the article of clothing.

He looked at you for a moment, there was a glint in his eye that you couldn't put into words. But it made an unfamiliar feeling rise up in you. Your heart raced as you both got undressed.

His gaze was tense, he wanted to see every curve on you. You wondered what he was thinking about as he observed you. But you would've never guessed it was the idea of getting you pregnant. To trap you with his baby.

He knew better than you, he knew what you needed. And that was a Nanami brat running around. And if he was lucky there would be multiples. He put the tie over your eyes, ”Trust me.“ And you had no choice but to trust him.

”You brought a condom right?“

He chuckled softly, ”Of course I did, the thin ones. Just the way you like it.“ He dipped his hand between your bare thighs and touched along your pussy. His thumb brushed against your clit and you shuddered. He smirked to himself, such a vulnerable young woman. So gentle and sweet.

You'd make the perfect wife for him. He wondered if they sold wedding dresses for women who already had their honeymoons. He smirked, knowing you wouldn't see it.

He played with you gently. You got more wet the more he played with you. Your hands dug into the sheet on the bed.

Maybe this wasn't the ideal place to make a baby, but it would have to do. He'd make sure the delivery was somewhere nicer. Maybe at home where he could take care of you. The thought made his cock bob, he may be a pervert but at least he could take out all the sexual frustration out on his soon-to-be wife.

”I'm going to move you now, my love.“He said with his voice close to your ear.

You nodded, ”Okay, honey.“ Then felt yourself being put on all fours. You dropped your front half into the soft pillows and kept your hips up so he could reach you. You wiggled your ass to entice him. Which was soon followed by a harsh slap. You made a small ”eep“ noise from the pain but it only made your pussy wetter.

”Such a beautiful sight.“ He said, ”I love you, I want you more than anything. I look at you and think of no one else. You're mine, my love. All mine.“ His words made your heart flutter.

He rubbed your cheeks as he got behind you. His grip was rough which made you roll your hips in an attempt to get out of it. But there was no escaping him.

”Nanami.“ You whimpered.

”What did I say? You need to listen, I need you to trust me. Be a good girl and spread those legs a little more. I want to see your beautiful pussy.“ He was excited that his plan was working. That you so easily fell into it. It was as if it were destiny that you were meant to get pregnant tonight. And if not tonight, then he'd keep trying until you ended up with a child.

He situated himself behind him and he reached between your legs to your stomach which he playfully touched. His cock leaked pre-cum from his imagination going wild over the idea of you pregnant with his child.

He shakily exhaled to compose himself before he pulled his hand away to hold onto your hip while he guided his hardened cock into you. He groaned out loud as he felt your heat consume him.

”Honey!“ You whimpered, ”You're so big. I can feel it so deep!“ You gripped onto the pillow under your head as you tried to relax. His size was impressive and you knew it was his even without seeing.

You held onto the pillows and moaned into them. You knew the rooms were soundproof but you were worried about being too loud. The sound of sex filled the room as he started to move.

”Please, honey! Ah, it feels so good!“ You whimpered as you held onto the bed to keep yourself steady. Your heart was racing as he thrusted up into you.

”Does it feel good?“ He asked, he smiled to himself. The idea of you succumbing to pleasure. You just let him finish inside of you, get you pregnant and become his wife. It was a dream for him.

”It feels amazing!“ You moaned as you rolled your hips in time with his thrusts. You held onto the pillows tightly as he started to move faster. Your heart was racing and you knew your face was flushed. You panted heavily into the covers.

”Good, good." He said softly to himself as he kept thrusting up into you. Your pussy clenched around him as he kept going. The feeling was erotic, it made his whole body warm. To be so close to you.

He wanted you so badly, he adored you. He was obsessed with you. He wanted to make sure that no one else could ever have you. His breathing became heavier as he moved.

The whole room grew hotter with each passing moment. Two people together, creating something beautiful even if one person didn't know it yet. The bed creaked under you as your bodies moved.

You felt hot all over as you two fucked in the centre of the bed. You panted heavily into the pillows as you tried to keep up. The feeling was amazing, it was like mini sparks were going through you. Your gut twisted with excitement over being so intimate with him.

He was a perfect lover.

Your head became cloudy the closer you got to orgasm. You felt like you were running off hormones as you felt so close to climax. You held on tightly as arched your back as you came. You groaned into the pillows, your voice was loud and almost got stuck in your throat from the feeling of the blond's cock so deep inside of you.

“I love you, honey.” He said. 'you're all mine, wife,' he added in his head as he watched you go limp on the bed. He pulled you up by the hips and fucked into you even harder.

He was thrilled that he could finish inside of you. Your head was so fuzzy you'd barely noticed if he came with zero protection. It was simply nature telling you it was time to be a mother.

With one more hard thrust, he finished inside of you. He held onto your hips tightly as he gave a final thrust. He leaned a little to make sure that all of it got to its intended destination. He could feel his blond hair sticking to his forehead. He felt hot all over as he pulled out and laid down beside you.

You rolled into his arms, your mind was still blank from the intense orgasm you had. You didn't notice the cum that was oozing out of your poor cunt, but that would be cleaned up soon. As when Nanami came to, he made sure to clean up any trace that he finished inside of you.

You'd know what he did when that test came back positive. He wiped your clean, even the sweat on your forehead. He kissed the warmed skin. He had broken your mind with an intense orgasm and hopefully impregnated you.

The thought made him smile as he said, ”Let's get you in the shower.“ As he approached you. He had to be a husband and father now, which meant protecting what was his.

”That's it.“ He moaned, ”That's it.“ His wedding ring gleamed in the afternoon light, ”We have to be quick before Misao wakes up.“

You held onto his chest as you rode his cock. Your heavy breasts bounced as did your swollen belly. Two babies in two years, it could almost be a record.

Nanami rubbed your swollen middle, ”My beautiful wife. All mine.” And you moaned in response. His cock twitched inside of you. This was all he ever wanted, but he'd only be truly satisfied with more than four children. He really wondered if he could break the record within a few years.

Either way, you'd only grow more beautiful. His beautiful wife, at home and caring for the growing home. Just as he wanted it.

xoxo, U・x・U

#bunny writes #jujustu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento #nanami smut #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #jjk x you #jjk #jujustu kaisen smut #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n

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themultifanshipper · 4 months

Text

Charles was shocked into silence. How could he not have noticed? He had known you for years and yet, he had never been so turned on in his life, just from hearing you speak.

Warnings: gn!reader, french!reader, cum play? GRATUITOUS amounts of french! Like half the dialogue is in french (with translation). This is entirely self-indulgent! Charles is really stupid in this I’m sorry but it’s for the plot, also he started out dominant then I decided halfway through he should be submissive, then switched back again. Barely proofread, it is 4:30am as I am writing this, sue me. There is disgusting stuff involving cum, and I’m kinda considering this crack because I can’t take french seriously.

Bon appétit, this is a wild ride my friends.

You had been working in formula 1 for most of your adult life, going from media teams to personal assistant, to lots of other jobs that finally led you to your dream job: race engineer.

Well, your dream job was really being a team boss, but baby steps, yeah?

Anyway, you had been promoted to race engineer to the one and only Charles Leclerc following the whole Xavi thing. But before that he’d known you as his assistant for a bit when his own assistant was on maternity leave, and before that you had been the media trainer for a few teams, including Sauber when he was there. He’d literally known you since his debut, and the two of you had grown very close over the years, and saw each other every week. So the fact that he could have missed something like this was embarrassing.

You were at the end of a race, going on about the tyres overheating to Charles over the radio when the car in front of him locked up and slid, forcing him to swerve and hit the wall with a sickening crunch.

You gasped as you saw the car make contact. “Oh Putain, ça va Charles ?” (Oh fuck, you ok Charles?) You spoke into your headset but there was no answer, and Charles didn’t seem to be moving so you tried again “Charles, tu m’entends? Est-ce que ça va?!” (Charles can you hear me? Are you ok?)

He finally replied in a shaky voice, and you were finally able to breathe and call the staff that would go get Charles and his car off the track.

Unbeknownst to you, Charles was having a mental crisis. You spoke French?

Since fucking when?

His ears were ringing as he tried to think back your years friendship for any signs. He came up empty. He was positive he’d never heard you speak French before. And he was positive he should not be hard, climbing out of his car after a crash.

When he got back to the garage, you were waiting for him, ready to ask him how he was but before you could say anything he grabbed your arm and dragged you into the nearest room slash maintenance cupboard he could find.

“What the hell are you doing Charles?”

He locked the door and when he turned back around his eyes were dark and stormy “Since when do you speak french?” he asked.

You just blinked at him.

“What?”

He backed you up against the wall, hands either side of your waist.

“Since when” he spoke patronizingly slowly “Do. You. Speak. French.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion.

“Charles, I am French. I have a French name. I was born and raised in France! What the fuck do you mean ‘since when do I speak french’???!”

His eyes widened as he realized how oblivious he’d been.

“My dad is friends with Pierre’s parents! I started my career at Renault! I brought you wine from my family’s vineyard! Charles how- how could you not have known?” You laughed at him as he just stood there flabbergasted at his own stupidity.

“Sérieusement? Comment?” (seriously, how?)

His brain seemed to reboot and he put his arms around you “Je suis désolé, je suis vraiment débile” (I’m sorry, I’m so stupid) he giggled into your hair.

The proximity was odd but not unwelcome, as you put your arms around him and laughed with him, inhaling his pleasant scent.

“Tu as mis du parfum? Tu sens bon. ” (Have you got cologne on? You smell good)

He groaned. “Keep talking, please” and he squeezed you tighter against him.

You laughed. “Tu sais bien que je parle toujours en français avec Pierre et Este ?” (You know I always speak french with Pierre and Este, right?)

He whimpered into your neck and that’s when you felt it.

You froze in his arms “Charles are you getting hard?”

He put his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes, both of you going cross-eyed. “I’m sorry you just sound so sexy in french” he sniffled.

This was definitely something you could get behind.

“Ouais? Tu veux que je te parle en français pendant les courses alors? (Yeah, you want me to speak to you in french during the races?)

He chewed on his lip and nodded as your hand made its way to the front of his suit to cup him over the fabric.

“T’es sûr? On voudrait pas que tu salisse la voiture, tu devras expliquer aux ingénieurs pourquoi le siège est trempé” (you sure ? We wouldn’t want you to make a mess, you’d have to explain to the engineers why the seat is wet)

He whined and his knees almost buckled, so you turned him around against the wall and unzipped his suit, dragging it down to pool around his ankles, then making quick work of the second layer, leaving him in his very damp underwear. You pulled that down as well as you got a hand around his cock and started a slow pace, teasing the tip with your thumb every now and then. He bucked his hips and whined at the dry friction.

“What’s the matter? Un peu sec?” (a bit dry?) You said teasingly.

“Laisse moi t’aider avec ça” (let me help you with that)

You got down on your knees and his eyelids fluttered as you got your lips around his tip. When you took half of him in your mouth and reached a hand up to cup his balls at the same time, he moaned and thumped his head back onto the wall.

You pulled off “Garde les yeux sur moi, Charles” (keep your eyes on me, Charles)

He did so , with much difficulty, but his eyes snapped to yours and you continued, taking him all the way to the base and massaging his balls gently. His hips bucked up a bit making you gag slightly.

“désolé, je vais pas durer longtemps” (sorry, I’m not gonna last long)

So you picked up the pace and doubled down on your efforts, as his hands flew to your hair.

It took about a minute and a half for him to come, groaning your name while he filled your mouth. He felt like his soul had been sucked out through his dick. You didn’t swallow it all though, wanting to share the load, as it were.

You got up and pulled him in for a kiss, which he gladly accepted, and it was the most disgusting, satisfying kiss you’d ever had, all teeth and spit and cum, some of it dribbling down your necks and chests.

You stayed like that for a while, basking in each other’s embrace (and each other’s mouths) before you suddenly remembered where you were.

“Charles! Don’t you have a press conference to go to?!”

“Je m’en fous, je reste là” (I don’t care, I’m staying here)

He lifted you up and carried you to the other side of the room where there was a conveniently empty shelf, where he set you down before tugging your pants down and spreading your legs to slot himself between them. He was already half hard again as he pumped himself with one hand and used the other to swipe up the cum on his and your chests, then brought his fingers to your entrance, rubbing gently before sliding a finger inside you. It didn’t take much for him to prep you and he used the excess leftover cum to lube himself up and slide into you. You keened as he pressed up into your most sensitive spots. But he just stayed there, grinding slowly into you, driving you mad.

“Please, Charles!” You begged, pronouncing his name the English way.

He cocked his head and grinned at you, and you sighed in desperation.

“S’il te plait… Charles”

His jaw went slack as he used all the energy he had left to pound into you, right in that special spot that made you see stars, over and over until you were a whining mess underneath him.

You came with a shout, back arching off the shelf and he held on to you as he followed soon after.

Charles Leclerc got a heavy fine for not showing up at the post-race conference, or the debrief, or any of his mandatory duties. Fortunately, he had enough money to pay the fine, and take you to dinner that very same night.

#my thots #charles thots #f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #gn reader

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eevees-hobbies · 3 months

Note

Hiya! Could I please request the wind breaker boys, bofurin & shishitoren reactions to the reader in a sexy Halloween costume at a party? (Possibly a sexy bunny girl, but any sexy costume really 💜)

Author’s Note: Anon, you’re wild for thinking about Halloween this early! But I get; I’m a spooky girlie, too. Or am I off base, and Halloween is just an excuse to dress like a bunny girl? Anyway, I enjoyed writing this! I might do a part 2 with more characters as we get closer to Halloween. Here are some reactions and scenarios to your costume!

Content Warning: Um, tis smutty. Thigh-fucking, making out, groping in public, sex in a residence that isn’t yours, nipple licking, mention of face-fucking, jealousy, cumshot, public humiliation, masturbation.

Word Count: 2.2K

Divider by Saradika. Story banner by me.

Haruka Sakura

You swore you told Sakura what you planned to wear at the Halloween party. Maybe you were a little non-descriptive when you said you were going to wear a bunny outfit, leaving out the fact that the neckline dipped so low that there was a potential of your breasts falling out of the top or how your “bottoms” consisted of only thigh high fishnet stockings.

When Sakura saw you from across the party, he stopped mid-conversation with Suo, who followed Sakura’s line of sight and let out a whistle when he saw you.

“Wow, Sakura. I had no idea you were so secure in your relationship that you’d let Y/N wear something so revealing. I don’t think I–oh,” Suo couldn’t finish his sentence because Sakura was shoving people in the crowd just to get to you.

As Suo watched his friend part a sea of people with his palms to their faces, he couldn’t help but smirk. “Maybe I instigated that a little.”

As you raise your hand to give a friend a wave, Sakura grips your wrist and pulls you into the nearest room. Your eyes can barely adjust to the darkness, but based on the smell of oil and what you believe to be an outline of the roof of a car, you realize that you’re in the homeowner's garage. The sound of the door locking echoes ominously behind you. If this were any other situation, you’d probably scream, but somewhere in the darkness is Sakura, and there’s nothing to worry about, right?

You reach out in an attempt to touch him–hoping to grab a hand or bicep–but you only feel a firm grip on your shoulders and being turned around, forcibly bent over with your face against the hood of the car.

“Why’d you have to wear something so fucking slutty?”

“W-wha?! Sakura?!” you try to move from underneath him, but his hand against your lower back is unwavering. You hear the sound of pants unzipping, “Kitten, there’s no way you're going to be able to put your dick in me. This thing is so tight against my crotch–”

“Who said I want your pussy,” he grumbles. You hear him spit into his palm before he places two thumbs against the exposed flesh of your thighs and spreads them. Sakura’s body tenses up as he slips his dick in between your inner thighs, his head practically swimming at how warm and soft they are.

You can’t help but place a hand over your mouth, stifling a laugh as your boyfriend ruts against your thighs, and you would have kept laughing if not for the feeling of his cock rubbing against the crotch of your outfit. The friction against your clit has you biting your lip and bouncing back against him because fuck, maybe he’s onto something?

Ren Kaji

“What are you supposed to be?” Kotoha asks you as she tilts her head, eyes sweeping over your not-so-halloween outfit. You’re wearing a gray hoodie, black skinny jeans, and your boyfriend's Bofurin jacket. Your hand reaches up instinctively to touch the headphones around your neck–a sudden habit you’ve developed during the night to make sure they're still snug and in place.

“I’m dressed as Ren. Can’t you tell?”

You had been wearing a bunny outfit earlier that night, but as you exited the bathroom in your home and did a twirl for Kaji, ears flopping up and down as you bounced, you quickly realized that you might need to consider a new outfit.

Kaji looked over you with unbridled lust and a hint of jealousy pooling in his eyes. He can mentally see how his friends will drink you in tonight. The idea of them lusting after you, thinking about fucking you, and even touching themselves to the thought of you has the sucker in his mouth breaking against clenched teeth.

He can see Tsugeura pretending to squeeze past you by putting his large, muscly hands on your curvy hips, his crotch so close to your ass you’d feel the bulge rubbing against your exposed cheeks.

He can see Kiryu sweetly asking to take a picture of your outfit, placing an arm around your shoulders, a hand leisurely placed in between the valley of your breasts, a finger brushing against the spot in your outfit where he knows your nipple is straining against the fabric.

“Give us a pretty smile for the gram, sweetie!” That very picture no doubt being used for nefarious activities that night.

“No.”

You wrap your arms across your chest, fully intending to stand your ground, “No?” You let out a breathy laugh but pause when his mouth doesn’t give way to a smile.

“Absolutely not. Go change.” His voice is smooth, as if there’s no room for argument, and with Kaji, there really isn’t.

He was serious!

“I don’t understand?”

“Let me show you what my friends will fantasize about doing to you when they see you dressed like that. Get on your knees.”

You bite your lip, briefly considering disobeying, but when Kaji gives an order, you better listen, or else you’ll end up with a sore ass. Without breaking eye contact–though your heart is stuttering in your chest–you do what a smart girl does and get on your knees for your boyfriend.

And Kaji didn’t feel an ounce of remorse when he slipped his dick past your pretty lips and rested heavily on your eager tongue.

He didn’t feel an ounce of remorse when his dick was so far down your throat that drool was dripping down and landing on your splayed-out thighs below you, splattering against the opening in your fishnets.

He certainly didn’t feel remorse when he gritted his teeth as his balls clenched violently, and he pulled your head back by those silly bunny ears and came on your chest and, in extension, your Halloween costume–effectively ruining it.

You gave him an earful for how petty and ridiculous he was, but he simply put a sucker in his mouth and stared at you with a glint of humor behind his blue eyes, pleased with himself.

As Kotoha nods and looks your “Ren Kaji” outfit up and down, you can feel eyes boring into the back of your head. You turn and catch Kaji's gaze from across the room; unsurprisingly, he still has that same pleased look.

Jo Togame

You squirm restlessly in the lap of Togame. Since you arrived at the party, he hasn’t let you out of his sight.

As soon as he laid emerald eyes on you, those eyes slowly appraising your body from head to toe, all his attention was on you and only you. “Do a little spin for me, beautiful?” he crooned while imitating the spinning gesture with a finger.

You were more than happy to oblige for him because good bunny girls listen! You spun around, enjoying the hungry look you were getting from him and his Shishitoren buddies.

“Yeaaaah, I need a closer look.” He points to his lap, a seat you’re all too familiar with. You must not have been moving fast enough as you approached him because he grabbed your hand and pulled you into his waiting lap.

Through the night, he continued to hold conversations with friends and sip at his bottle of ramune, all while your ass lives plastered against his crotch. As you squirm, his arm around your shoulders only pulls you in more, and he shoots you a smile.

“Hey, can you all give me a minute with my girl?”

You relish in his words as his friends shuffle off elsewhere and Togame turns his attention to you.

“I hope you know what this costume is doing to me.”

Of course, you know what the costume is doing to him. You’ve been sitting on something long, thick, and ridiculously hard all night.

You look at him through your eyelashes and bite your lip as he places a hand on your breast in front of partygoers and kisses you, all while keeping you in his lap. It feels sinful to be so publicly obscene, and you can hear mumbles and murmurs from around you as his tongue slides into your mouth and his hand squeezes the flesh of your breast, fingers dancing over the exposed tops of them that are being pushed out of the corset.

He pulls away and tilts his head towards the door, “Wanna get out of here? I have plans for this costume.”

And you can’t put a perfectly good bunny costume to waste, can you? No, you can’t.

Hajime Umemiya

I’m sorry for all you toxic-love enthusiasts out there, but Ume is as wholesome as they come. Every Halloween, you two take immense care and consideration in picking out matching outfits. You are the epitome of #couplegoals. And after weeks of sending back-and-forth links to costumes, you finally agreed upon the perfect ones.

Sugishita stares at the halo around Umemiya’s head and nods in complete agreement–yes, of course, he’s an angel. It fits perfectly, he thinks to himself.

“Water, Ume?” You walk up behind him, offering him a bottle of water. Umemiya is shirtless except for feathery white wings that are strapped around his chest. At the last minute, he decided to keep it simple with white pants and a black belt. You are dressed as his inverse, the angel to his devil with horns and a tail.

You take a minute to admire his shirtless figure, broad shoulders, and freshly healed scratches from the night before, which puts a bit of a dopey smile on your face. The muscles in his strong back shift as he turns to look at you with a grin upon hearing your voice.

“Baby girl! There you are! I was just telling Sugishita that you should have been the angel since I think it fits you more.

You shake your head, smiling, “I like playing the devil. Don’t you think that’s more fitting for me, Sugishita?”

Sugishita looks between you both, nodding furiously at his favorite person’s favorite person.

And as the night draws to a close and you’re both helping the homeowner clean up after the party, you can’t help but push Umemiya into the closet, closing the door behind you.

And you might be the one who instigates the first move, but he’s the one who pushes you against the wall in return, your body sinking into the clothes on the coat rack.

“Ume, you’ve looked like a snack all night.”

“Yeah? I wouldn’t mind you taking a bite out of me.” he shivers as your fingers trace his nipples. He’s always been sensitive there, and you’ve always been quick to take advantage of that.

“I think we should keep these outfits for a little roleplaying, no?” Your tongue darts out and traces the curvature of his nipple, earning you a whimper and “Oh, fuck” from Ume’s lips.

He looks down at you, already making quick work of removing the red corset around your midsection. “How much time do you think we have before they realize we’re in the closet?”

You smile and kiss his jaw, “Maybe 7 minutes if we’re quiet?”

“When have I ever allowed you to be quiet?”

Fuck, he has a point.

Hayato Suo

You had no idea what you were planning to wear to the costume party, so when Suo offered to help you find an outfit, you happily accepted.

You’re a glutton for punishment, I suppose.

Suo knew precisely what he was doing. With the deliberate actions of a sociopath, Suo ordered your costume early but chose not to say anything to you. It wasn’t until you glanced at the calendar that your eyes widened at the encroaching date circled in red marker.

“Suo! I still don’t have a costume, and the party is in two days!”

“Ooh,” he clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “I told you I’d handle everything. I already have something picked out specifically for you.”

You were overtaken with relief. Suo always had a plan; you knew he wouldn’t disappoint you. At least that’s how you felt before he brought out the most revealing bunny costume you’d ever seen.

And to be honest, you weren't even sure they sold this version of the costume in regular stores. But what were you going to do? The party was in two days, and if you wanted to go shopping for a costume, you’d have no option but to pick from the leftovers, and you’d end up dressed like the Kool-Aid man. No, thank you!

You took the costume, eyes drilling into the most revealing of spots. “What’s your costume, Suo?”

“I don’t do costumes, but if anyone asks, I’ll tell them I’m your handler, sweet bunny girl.”

Two days quickly come and go, and as you enter the party with Suo walking so close behind you, you can feel the heat from his body on your exposed back; eyes stop and stare at you, and Suo drinks every interaction in as though he’s using it as foreplay until he can finally get you alone and underneath him.

For now, he watches in delight as you make all of his friends so uncomfortable with your jiggly thighs, bouncy ass, and flushed cheeks.

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ynscrazylife · 3 months

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could i please request an aaron hotchner x bau wife reader. maybe they are on a case away in a different state and y/n volunteers to go pick up food for her and the team and she ends up seeing the unsub and follows him to the location, which happens to be an abandoned warehouse and she calls aaron when she gets there and he tells her to wait but she doesn’t and hangs up the phone and ends up getting stabbed in her abdomen since she doesn’t have her vest

lightly stabbed (aaron hotchner x wife!reader)

WARNING: Descriptions of violence.

You’re itching to get out of here.

The entire team is crammed into yours and Aaron’s hotel room to work on the case. It’s quite a small town and the nearest police precinct is barely big enough to fit all its officers inside, let alone accommodate what the BAU needs.

There are papers everywhere and Derek definitely has his boots digging into your bed and none of you are getting close to cracking the case. They’ve been able to determine what the guy looks like, but not his name. There’s no record of him anywhere. It’s starting to give you a damn headache.

“I’m hungry,” you announce, breaking through the silence and rocking back and forth impatiently. “Is anyone else hungry?”

“I could go for some food,” JJ says.

“Yes, please,” Derek adds.

“I’ll go pick up something!” You say, snatching your chance and bolting to grab your coat.

“Where?” Spencer asks skeptically.

“I’ll find a place. Could use a drive to clear my head anyway,” you say, putting your coat on and planting a kiss on Aaron’s forehead. You grab one of the room keys before slipping out the door.

You’re going to your car in the hotel’s garage when you spot a man who looks eerily similar to the descriptions of the unsub. You shake your head, trying not to read into it too much. There’s nothing that proves a definite connection. You get into your car and pull out into the road, but find that the guy’s car is going in a similar direction.

Unable to help yourself, you keep on tailing the guy and you call Penelope up to ask if she has any information on the unsub’s vehicle.

And what she gives you is the exact description of the car you’re following.

“Penelope,” you say, doing your best to keep your tone even and in control. “I’m pretty sure I’m following the unsub right now. I can’t risk losing our one lead, so I’m gonna keep on following him. I need you to call Aaron and let him know.”

Albeit nervous, she does as you ask. Minutes later, your phone rings with your husband on the other line.

“I’m being safe,” you say as soon as you answer.

“Do you have the license plate number?” Hotch asks.

“Yes.”

“Do you have reason to believe that he’s going to hurt anyone?”

“No.”

“You have to wait for the rest of us or at least one of the cops,” Hotch says—pleads.

You bite your lip, seeing the unsub slow down upon approaching what looks like an abandoned warehouse. Classic hostage location. “There’s a girl missing, Aaron. I think I see him going into the place where he’s keeping her. I can’t wait,” you say.

There’s a beat. He knows you have a strong point.

“We’re close, Y/N,” Hotch assures you.

The image of the kidnapped girl flashes through your mind. “See you soon,” you say before hanging up the phone.

After the unsub gets out of his car and enters the warehouse, you go around to the back, finding a door there. You venture in slowly and quietly, finding the girl tied to a chair in the middle of the room.

After waiting for a few minutes and not seeing the guy anywhere, you walk towards the girl. “Hey, hey, I’m here to help. I’m an FBI agent-” you flash her your badge. “-my team is on their way, but let’s get you of here.”

“He’s gonna kill me,” the girl whispers once you’ve taken the tape off her mouth. You kneel down to untie her ankles.

“No, he won’t. I’m with you, okay?” You assured her, moving around to the back of the chair to untie her arms.

You’ve loosened the knot and almost got it completely undone when suddenly, you’re grabbed from behind. You go to elbow the guy in the face as he drags you backward, but he sinks his knife into your abdomen before you can.

It burns. It hurts.

Your body knows what’s just happened, but your brain is frozen. Your thoughts are going in slow motion as you struggle to comprehend. It’s only when the guy wrenches the knife out and you scream, vision swarming with the blood you see, that it occurs to you: you’ve been stabbed.

The guy tosses you to the floor and vaguely, you register the sound of the kidnapped girl crying. He steps over you and you use all your strength left to grab onto his ankle and yank, hard, pulling him to the ground. The knife clatters out of his grip.

“Bitch!” He yells, scrambling onto his knees and backhanding you across the face.

“PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR!”

You’d know that roaring voice from anywhere — Aaron’s here with the team. You relax slightly, knowing that they’re going to handle this.

The guy turns around to face the full, angry force of the BAU.

“DO IT NOW!”

He complies and, the second Rossi leads him away in cuffs, Aaron and Derek are by your side while Emily and JJ go to help the girl.

“Someone get a gurney in here!” Derek calls out.

Aaron’s saying something about how you’re going to be fine and they’ll get you to the hospital, but you don’t catch all of his words. He’s stroking your face and you can see that while he’s trying to keep composure, he’s worried. He shrugs his jacket off and presses it down on your wound, making you whine at the pain.

“I’ve gotta stop the bleeding, honey,” he murmurs. You know this. He knows you know this. He has to say it for his own piece of mind, to make sure that you don’t think he’s just hurting you.

“I’m sorry, Aaron,” you mumble to him, feeling your eyelids growing heavy. Your hand twitches, aching for his touch.

He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your skin and then kissing your forehead. “Shh, shh. None of that. I’m not mad. It’s-it’s only light,” he says.

You know it’s not, but his voice is comforting enough.

Derek’s talking to Aaron over your head. Something about how far out the ambulance is, you think. Comforted that your husband isn’t angry with you, your eyelids close now, and the darkness takes over.

The first thing you register when you wake up is beeping. Opening your eyes slowly, you blink a couple times, then see that you must be in a hospital room. The beeping comes from the monitors you’re hooked up to. There’s an IV in your arm, giving you fluids, and you can feel a bit of scratchiness from the hospital gown.

“Honey?”

Your husband’s warm voice fills your ears as he enters your line of sight. He stands up from his chair that’s been drawn up to your bedside, putting aside a newspaper that he was barely reading anyway.

“Hi,” you murmur, stretching your fingers for his hand which he happily supplies you with.

“Hi,” he greets, smiling widely. “You’re in the hospital, as I’m sure you can tell. You’re gonna be just fine but you have to stay here for observation for a little bit. I’ll be with you the whole time. The team’s also in the waiting room — Garcia has many balloons.”

This gets a smile out of you, too. You can just imagine the balloons getting into Derek’s face and how they squabble over it. “Mm. I seem to remember you telling me that my wound was only light, right?” You ask. It’s one of the few things you can recall from the ordeal.

“I was trying to soothe you,” he says, chuckling and squeezing your hand.

“I know,” you assure him, then you pat down on the space next to you. “Sit.”

“I’m not sure if I should—” Aaron says.

“Come here,” you insist, wanting to lie with him.

Unable to say no, he very carefully sits down next to you and wraps you up in his arms. You settle against his chest, finding it a far better pillow.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, wanting him to know it. “You told me to wait.”

“We can talk about that later, but I’m proud of you. You saved the girl’s life,” he says, kissing your forehead.

He really is the best husband ever. As long as he’s here, everything’s gonna be okay, you think.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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papaya-twinks · 3 months

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one right thing - l.n

Warnings: Smut, 18+, DEGRADATION, hair pulling, name calling, angry!sex, rough

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Summary: Lando’s a wittle pissed about the race 🎀✨

When Lando had bad races, his typical response to them was to take it out on something, anything. The multiple holes in the Russian McLaren hospitality were not something you’d bring up if you wanted to stay on Lando’s good side. This was all before you were dating Lando, of course, so you were never witnessed any of it first hand. But now you were dating him, instead of punching holes in things, he’d use the ones he already had.

In you.

Your hand never left your mouth the entire time Lando drove to the pits, the McLaren headphones on your ears, desperately listening. To any sound of a voice from him. Nothing. He said nothing, parking into the bay and standing up, yanking his helmet off, hair tousled, a look of pure anger on his face.

The crash hadn’t been his fault, and he looked pissed, the same as he did in Spain, but magnified to a thousand. He looked capable of destruction. And that was exactly what Lando planned to do, in fact. And you’d be at the receiving end. You watched as he walked into the garage, his eyes scanning the group of engineers, almost too stunned to move as they stared at him.

Lando’s chest rose and fell with each heavy breath, his eyebrows creased, til his gaze landed on you. “Y/N,” he said, his hand wrapping round your wrist. “Lando,” an engineer spoke up meekly, “you need to do your interviews,”. Big mistake. Speaking up was not what they should’ve done. He said nothing, his expression speaking volume as he led you out, not a word spoken between you two as he walked to the small car park.

“We’re going,” was all he said as he sat into the drivers seat, eyes staring in front of him, the fire practically visible behind his eyes.

This was slightly unusual for Lando, actually. Driving home. Usually, he’d take you to the nearest room and just absolutely obliterate you. You waited with baited breath for him to do something, anything, but nothing. He sat and drove, all the way back to the apartment, not a word being spoken. You watched as he parked into the driveway, not giving the usual care he’d give when Lando usually did, and opened the door.

You took it as a sign to do the same, following him out the car and into the apartment. Again, he defied his usual antics, and instead walked to the kitchen. Unsure what to do, you followed hi. Into the room, watching his hand wrap round a bottle of red wine, pouring the liquid into two glasses. He handed you one, leaning against the counter.

You sipped on the liquid, your eyes trained on him as he placed the crystal glass down, his hand moving the glass from your lips, replacing the cold crystal with his own lips, his hand cupping your cheek as his tongue slipped into your mouth. A soft mewl left your lips as he pulled your body into his, one hand swooping under your knees, carrying you bridal style.

His lips never parted from yours as he carried you upstairs. He’d been calm, for a while, and the next thing he didn’t was quite the contrast. A small shriek left your lips as he dropped you roughly onto the bed, his hand tugging his fireproofs off, the suit discarded on the floor, his hand coming to effectively rip off your shirt.

Lando immediately had you lying on your back, your legs thrown over his shoulders, his tongue lapping at your covered core, his fingers tugging the minimal clothing off, his other hand riding your skirt up. A moan left your lips as he psyched his tongue into your core, lapping at your clit. Your nails dug into his back, one hand on the back of Lando’s head, tugging at his curls as you bucked your hips slightly.

Lando moved one of his hands onto your stomach to stop you from squirming, his tongue flicking aggressively across your body. “Oh, fuck, Lando,” you gasped, his finger pushing into you, tongue still dancing on your clit. His digits pumped in and out of you for a few seconds, before he pulled out, standing up, his lip coated with your juices.

Your hips rolled uselessly against nothing at the loss of contact, his hand reaching to the suit, pulling it down to his thighs, his cock springing hard into his hand. “Open,” was all he said, your mouth falling open as he pushed into your mouth, his head hitting the back of your throat.

You gagged slightly at the contact, his hand on the back of your head steadying you as he held you there for a few seconds, before he pulled fully out. Lando waited a second for you to regain your control, before pushing back into your mouth, rocking his hips against you, your eyes widenenifn before squeezing shut.

He pulled out of your mouth, your salvia coating his cock as he moved to your thighs, pulling your legs over his shoulders, your hands laying uselessly as he dug his nails into your thighs, pushing his cock in. Without a second to let you adjust, he skipped his slow rocking he’d usually do, and went straight to hammering into you, your body shaking round him.

“Oh, fuck, Lando!” you gasped, your body moving up and down with each movement. “I should’ve won,” he said through gritted teeth, his face set as he rocketed in and out of your body, “Y-Yeah,” you gasped, your words slurring and stuttering with the force of his motions.

“Not gonna cum first here though,” he said, a small smirk flickering to his face. You’d never complain, in fact, there were time where you shamefully wished he would hwve a bad result, so he could take it out on you. And you savoured every second of it. The knot in your stomach started building up, but he showed no signs of slowing down, your eyes rolling as your orgasm washed over.

As soon as you recovered, you felt another knot build up. You knew Lando could go on for a while, but at this pace? Surely not. Right? But still, nothing indicated him planning to stop as he hammered into you, small groans and grunts leaving his lips. “I didn’t do anything,” he growled, “I was driving fine,”. You knew he was right, and just as eager as you were to take him, you were equally as eager to please him.

You nodded vehemently at his words, you hands clawing at his biceps as his thrusts became sloppier and sloppier, before you felt him erupt inside of you, his cum shooting out in thick ropes inside of you. “Fuck!” you gasped, eyes wide at the feeling of inside of you, your body instinctively clenching round him, a groan vibrating through his chest.

“Fuck,” he gasped, pulling out of you, your juices covering his cock, your body shaking beneath his as he watched you. “Took me well,” a small smile jumped to his face, his lips pressing softly to your cheek, then your neck as you nodded. “My winner,” you muttered

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando x reader #f1 #lando norris smut

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oliviajames1122 · 1 year

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Finding the Nearest Car Garage for Exceptional Car Service in Reading

Are you in need of reliable car service in Reading? Whether it's routine maintenance, repairs, or emergency assistance, finding the nearest car garage can be essential. In this guide, we'll explore the top car garages in Reading that offer professional car services to keep your vehicle running smoothly.

Reading Auto Clinic

Located in the heart of Reading, Reading Auto Clinic is your go-to destination for comprehensive car services. Their skilled technicians provide a wide range of services, including oil changes, brake repairs, engine diagnostics, and more. With a reputation for quality and affordability, Reading Auto Clinic is a trusted choice for car owners in the area.

Riverside Garage

Riverside Garage is another top-notch option for car garages in Reading. They pride themselves on their attention to detail and commitment to customer satisfaction. Whether you need a simple tune-up or major repairs, their experienced team has you covered. Plus, their convenient location ensures you won't have to travel far to get your car serviced.

City Motors Reading

City Motors Reading is known for its dedication to providing top-tier car service. Their certified technicians use the latest tools and technology to diagnose and fix issues efficiently. From transmission repairs to electrical problems, City Motors Reading offers a wide range of services to keep your vehicle in excellent condition.

Central Auto Repair

If you're looking for a reliable and affordable car garage, Central Auto Repair is worth considering. Their team of skilled mechanics can handle everything from routine maintenance to complex repairs. They prioritize transparency and will provide you with a detailed explanation of the work needed before starting any repairs.

Express Auto Care

For that seeking quick and efficient car service, Express Auto Care is a fantastic choice. They understand the value of your time and aim to get you back on the road as soon as possible. Whether it's an oil change or a major repair, you can count on their experienced technicians for prompt service.

Don't wait until your vehicle's performance deteriorates – schedule a visit to one of these reputable garages in Reading for quality car service. Keeping your car well-maintained ensures a safe and smooth driving experience. Trust these professionals to handle all your automotive needs, and you'll be back on the road with confidence in no time.

Remember, regular car maintenance is essential for the longevity of your vehicle. So, choose the nearest car garage that suits your needs, and enjoy worry-free driving in Reading.

#nearest car garage to me #Car service #car services in reading #car service reading #Car garages in reading

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zombholic · 1 year

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MECHANIC ABBY DRABBLES

- you hate fitting that stereotype that women don’t know shit about cars but that stereotype was literally made because of you.

- your car engine was making funny noises, brakes squeaking and oil was very much needed in your poor car.

- you drove to the nearest mechanic and hopped out your little white jetta volkswagen convertible that was all decorated and girly inside, you loved your car but that maintenance had you clueless.

- you saw a girl walk up to you, humongous build, maybe a tiny bit taller than you with huge fucking arms, grease covered her hands, parts of her arms and face. you swore your knees went weak just by looking at her.

“you need help?” she wiped her hands with rag as she looked at you up and down, nodding you head you chirped up “yeah um, my car is making noises” you made a confused face earning a chuckle out of the blonde “what kinda noises sweetie?” she threw the rag on a chair that sat outside, walking up to your car.

“um i’m sorry i kinda don’t know shit about cars” you let out a small giggle before handing her your keys that dangled with a bajillion little trinkets, she got in your car, one leg out the car while she turned it on, revving the engine “ok so..” she got out your car “i can tell something is wrong with it but i do did to give it a diagnosis and it might take an hour or two?” she leaned against the car door.

“oh a diagnosis like a doctor” you partially joked “yeah like a doctor, you can sit in the garage until i figure out what’s wrong” she smiled at you.

- after she fixed your car she literally wanted to slam her head in a wall for not asking for you number.

- lets say a couple weeks later you return back with another issue.

- this time she asks for your number and you happily give it to her, you guys start texting nonstop until she finally asks you out on a date.

#lesbian #lgbtq #wlw #the last of us ii #tlou #the last of us #abby anderson #abby anderson imagine #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson edit #abby x fem!reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson x reader #abby x you #abby anderson drabble #mechanic!abby

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mxstellatayte · 4 months

Note

Hii could you write a smut one shot w sub Carlos and dom reader?

HOLY JEEZ MY FRIEND

I MOST CERTAINLY CAN HERE YOU GO

(you said one shot and i heard 1.5k words of PURE PORN)

nsfw under the cut <3 minors please do not interact!

warnings: very not beta read! carlos is a whimperer i don't make the rules, friends to fuck buddies to idiots in love, bro meets jesus, legal use of alcohol, making out, sex under the influence, creampie, hickeys, open ending, stupid fluffy vanilla bullshit

it started out with one too many shots of shitty tequila after mexico 2023 and a chayanne song.

gods damned mexican liquor.

max had, yet again, won, except this time, he had broken yet another record. so of course he invited everyone on the grid and their friends out to drinks.

"come on, lia, a couple of drinks won't hurt! plus, i can probably rope carlos into paying."

you and carlos had grown up together in madrid, and you'd always been his biggest supporter in the garage. it didn't matter who else he could've brought along, because when the two of you have a connection so deep that all you need to do to laugh is make eye contact after anyone says something even remotely sexual.

there was always an air of awkward tension between you since that time you accidentally walked past his bedroom door and heard him moan your name. you just pray that, with all the nights you've spent at each other's houses, he's never heard you moan his name while you fingered yourself across the thin walls.

and so here you find yourself, in the center of the dance floor in a club in the heart of mexico city following the grand prix weekend, your heart pounding, your confidence blooming, and your ass grinding up against carlos' crotch to the rhythm of mi gente by j balvin, his large hands resting on your hips.

you aren't sure how the idea springs into your mind, but you'll blame it on the liquid courage. as the next song comes on, you spin around in carlos' hold, your right leg slotting between his own, and that's when you realize it. he's hard. a smirk tugs at your lips and when you look up at his face, your eyes meet and that's when you know. if you don't get out of this stifling club and back to your hotel in the next ten minutes, you might just have to fuck him in one of the vip rooms. your hands come up to rest on his chest and you hinge forward, your lips directly next to his ear.

"you wanna get out of here?"

"please," he says, and the pure desperation in his voice makes your stomach erupt in butterflies.

"then let's go." you grab his hand off of your hip and immediately book it out of the club. thank god your hotel was less than one block down the street, because if you had to drive anywhere, you might've just sucked him off inside the car. your feet hurt from your heels, but with your level of arousal and in your drunken state, you couldn't care less. all that you care about is that this elevator is moving way too slow and that carlos' lips feel so good on your own. the kiss is hot, wet, and messy, a flurry of lips and tongue and teeth, hands scrambling to hold whatever they can.

the elevator reaches your floor, and you've never run faster in heels. you're holding carlos' hand, the two of you running down the hall like a pair of horny teenagers (which, being entirely honest, is the mental state you've been reduced to at the concept of finally fucking your best friend,) and laughing uncontrollably. you almost fall over laughing when he fumbles through his wallet for his keycard, drunken fingers lacking any sort of dexterity. the sound of the door finally unlocking is your favorite sound at the moment, and you throw the door open, push carlos against the nearest wall, and kiss him harder than you've kissed anyone before.

your right hand holds the side of his neck, the tips of your fingers barely weaving into his hair, while your left goes down to cup his incredibly hard cock through his jeans. palming over his erection pulls some of the greatest sounds you've ever heard from him. forget hearing him moan your name through the wall as you pass- instead, hearing his whimpers at your hand is the greatest thing you've ever heard in your whole life.

"are you okay with this?" you pant, your lips coated in a mixture of both of your salivas, carlos' eyes heavy with lust.

"i've been hoping and praying for this for years, amor. please. i need you." without hesitation, you pull him back to you and kiss him with no mercy. he pushes back, stepping forward and eventually gently laying you down on the bed. "need this off," he says, tugging at your dress as he undoes the clasps on your heels and throwing them across the room.

"zipper. back. fuck." his hands somehow regained the dexteriety he lacked five minutes ago as he expertly undoes the zipper of your crimson dress and helps you shimmy out of it.

"ay, diós, you're beautiful." you're left laying on the bed in just your strapless bra and black panties, carlos way too overdressed, and his eyes admiring your body. his lips continue kissing down your neck as his hands reach beneath you and unclasp your bra, hands immediately cupping your tits.

"mm, carlos, as amazing as this is, i need you inside of me in the next sixty seconds."

"as you wish." carlos strips as fast as he can as you pull your panties off, and when he slides into you slowly, you throw your head back and grasp at his upper arms, your breaths heavy and labored. "oh... oh, fuck." his forehead presses to yours when he finally bottoms out inside of you, your breaths mingling as you hold him as close as you can.

"carlos, please. move. i can take it." you emphasize your point with a clench around his girth, and your body heats up infinitely more when he whimpers.

"'m not gonna last long if you keep doing that," carlos groans, and you tease him once more with another flutter of your walls around him.

"i'm not either, but i need you to fuck me right now, baby." he responds by pulling his hips back, then pushing back into you. he maintains a steady pace, and your moans continue with every punching thrust. "feels so good, baby, just like that."

"keep... keep doing that. please?" from the way his dick twitched inside of you when you praised him, who would you be to deny him such a request when he asked so nicely?

"mmgh, carlos, so good. faster, baby, please, i'm close. i'm so close." his hips snap into you faster, and you moan loudly as your nails scrape at his broad back and shoulders, surely leaving marks that will raise and turn red with time. with the pain, carlos' volume matches your own, and you can't help but grin as he bites at your neck, leaving his own marks for you to admire later. you yell with his left thumb comes to play with your clit, finding the bundle of nerves after a moment of searching, and he rubs tight hard circles that have you cumming hard.

"oh, fuck, carlos, i'm cumming, i'm cumming, oh my god. just like that baby, so good, so so good." you're reduced to a babbling, mindless, moaning mess, and your eyes are held open as they focus on carlos' face, eyebrows creased in pleasure, lips hanging open, and eyes shining with pleasure.

"i'm gonna cum, amor. i'm... where? where do you want it?"

you don't hesitate for an instant before mumbling out an "inside. inside, baby," and carlos' hips stutter and he cums inside of you with a groan. the warmth of his cum inside of you turns you on more than you could ever imagine, but you're too exhausted and fucked out to even consider a second round at the moment. "just like that, baby. just like that. ah~" you moan one last time when he pulls out of you, both of you panting and gasping hard for breath. carlos flops down on his stomach next to you, completely boneless and fucked out, and drapes his right arm over your waist.

"thank you," he mumbles into your neck. "i've wanted to do that for years."

"so have i," you say, the post-orgasmic haze crawling over your body. your eyes are heavy, but they snap open when you hear what carlos says next.

"you aren't that quiet, and your walls are thin."

your head rises from the pillow to look down at him. "cabrón, are you telling me you heard me moan your name and you didn't tell me?!"

"yeah, i guess so. i wanted to tell you after we finished secondary school, but you were with that other guy... what was his name? manuel? mateo?"

"matías," you laugh, bringing your hand that isn't gently playing with his hair up to your face, giggling hysterically. "i only got with him in hopes that you'd get jealous or something!"

"en serio? we were that blind?"

"i guess we were." you both burst out in laughter at your dual idiocy, but as you calm down, sleep takes its grasp on both of you, and you eventually succumb to its hold, safe in each other's embrace.

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for-a-longlongtime · 14 days

Text

Guilty Pleasure (Part 7/7) - dbf!Joel Miller x reader

You've thought about this moment so many times. Now you're actually standing there, your hand on the doorknob of Joel's room, and you can hear his heavy breathing already.

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, mdni 🔞🔥 Series warnings (tba): Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 43), masturbation (f), use of sex toys, oral sex, PiV, anal, hair pulling, dirty talk, getting caught, playful use of 'daddy', outrageous flirting, groping, reference to m/m, Joel's arms should always come with a warning. No outbreak!AU. Word count: 6.3K A/N: Are you ready? Let's gooo! In case this chapter is a bit of a long read for you -there's a short scene break in the middle, if you need it. More A/N's at the end, but thank you SO much for reading and letting me take you on this little trip in my mind!

< part 6 | series masterlist | main masterlist

It’s not a great day.

There have been worse, of course. But running into two exes while you’re out to do errands this morning - one of them, the commitment phobe, with a pregnant girlfriend by his side - hits you with an unexpected punch in the gut. All you want now is your favorite drink, change into some comfortable clothes, and binge watch at least two seasons of your favorite show while holed up in bed. So when you park your car in the oversized garage at home, you don’t bother to head into the main area of the house and see how your mom is doing - knowing her, she’s right in the middle of online meetings anyway.

You just want some quiet, so you make a beeline upstairs to your room, balancing your purse, large iced latte with caramel and oat milk, and your phone precariously in one hand. And just when you use your elbow to open the door to your room and scoot inside, you hear it.

A moan.

From Joel's bedroom.

You stop, fingers gripping your coffee tight as you listen intently to make sure that this isn’t something you are imagining. But then there it is again- it starts as a whimper, followed by heavy breathing, and then a loud groan by Joel. “Ohhh, FUCK. Yes, yes - take it, all of me, just like that…”

Abruptly you put your things on the nearest flat surface in your room, your heart beating fast and excitedly. You run a hand through your hair as you glance in the mirror, making sure you’re presentable - yeap, that outfit fits you just right in all the right places.

Then you head back out in the hallway with careful, slow steps towards his room. It’s quiet for a moment aside from some heavy breathing, but right when you notice his door is slightly cracked open, you hear Joel moan again. “Fuck, baby… please…”

You can hear his panting and grunting so well on your side of the door, and for a moment you almost consider not going in there yet. Just stand there a little longer to take in everything you can from this voyeuristic moment. There’s a perverse pleasure that comes with it, knowing what’s happening in there while he doesn’t know what you are doing, or whether you’re hearing him. It’s a power balance that you haven’t felt before.

You like it.

But his moans - they make heat flood through your entire body, leaving you flushed and almost trembling with need for him, unable to wait longer. You bite your lip as you lay your hand against the door, then quietly push it open while hoping for the best. For Joel to lay on his bed, panting, his cock in hand or fucking a pillow while thinking of you - the way you’ve been thinking of him. Sitting on the edge of the bed perhaps, leaking all over his fingers, or maybe he likes to use a fleshlight when he gets off on his own.

Your first thought when you see Joel with his back turned to you is ‘holy shit, he’s completely naked’, followed by ‘he’s so fucking gorgeous’. You had already seen him dressed down to his swim shorts at the pool, sunkissed skin covered with droplets of water that seemed to sparkle in the midsummer afternoons. But it can’t compare to this vision of him stripped of everything, moaning in the privacy of his bedroom - the muscles in his shoulders and back tensing, ass cheeks flexing. The way his head tilts back as he gasps, damp curls sticking to damp skin, and you know that you’re already dripping wet; watching him like this is exhilarating.

“So tight for me always,” Joel’s breathing hitches, his voice almost like a coo for a moment, and then it hits you - even though your eyes hadn’t registered it at first, not at this angle. He’s not jerking off, he’s fucking someone. Short, firm but slow thrusts as he’s right at the edge of the bed, looking down at his lover, and both your possessiveness and desire flame much higher than you could’ve even predicted.

Okay, so maybe you miscalculated. Maybe he has a girl that he is fucking on the side - but it couldn’t be serious, or you would’ve noticed it. Maybe this was *his* way of making you jealous, like you’d done the other week, making out with that jock at the party while Joel watched you. And just maybe this was still a way in for you. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time that you’d messed around with a girl because it got a guy all riled up to watch - especially if you’d let him join eventually.

Part of you wants to speak up, at least say his name so he knows you’re there, but it feels like the words all got stuck in your throat as you are spellbound by the view of him fucking into his side chick. You wonder what she looks like - if her hair style is like yours, her body type, if it were the similarities or the differences that drew him in -, but somehow it feels too invasive to just step right up there to get involved. It’d be better to let him notice you, as he’d probably first be startled, but then might invite you to join them. Let you kiss him, before you kiss her…

You hear her gasp, her voice clearly fucked up and hoarse, a whine escaping from her when Joel thrusts just a little harder into her, and he groans in pleasure. “I know, baby, I know, you feel so goddamn good,” he compliments. “I’ll give you more, don’t worry.” You can see him adjust - see him probably try to go deeper, but the angle doesn’t quite allow for it. Joel groans in frustration, then leans down as his large hands stroke his lover. “Hang in there. Gonna move you.”

You watch Joel pull out and move, from the foot of the bed to the side of it, resulting in a protesting whine from his lover that only vaguely registers with you. Because it’s impossible to look away from his profile, as now you can finally see his face; eyes dark and fiery, his curls even damper now, the strong aquiline nose and his parted lips as he’s breathing heavily.

And then there’s his cock.

His cock, hard and glistening with slickness, proudly uncut, and your jaw nearly drops when you see something metal glisten - because holy fuck. Joel Miller has a cock piercing. Two round studs on each end of the metal bar that’s pierced through his glans, from top to bottom; you’re pretty sure that’s an apadravya. And you find yourself utterly captivated by it.

You can’t even imagine what that must feel like hitting your g-spot, but your body sure is dying to find out. The urge to tease it with your tongue while cradling those heavy balls is strong, and you wonder how the metal would taste against his skin. Just as you want to know the feeling of the sparse hairs under his navel, that go down into a more sizable bush that you had imagined - hell, you wanted to feel those hairs rub against your clit as you got yourself off against him.

Joel grabs his lover’s body and yanks it over to him on the bed, turning it 90 degrees so it’s aligned with his own again - but all of that only faintly registers with you. All you can stare at is how the muscles in Joel’s neck and shoulders flex when he grits his teeth, the way his cock twitches, and listen to his pleased growl at having adjusted his partner’s position.

He grabs his partner’s leg and brings it up to rest over his left shoulder, and you’ve been so wrapped up in watching just him that it only suddenly hits you; your earlier assumptions were completely wrong. Because the leg and foot that you see do not belong to a woman. It’s clearly a guy’s muscular calf, hairy and strong, that Joel caresses for a moment, before he brings his hand down to press against a belly that clearly has a treasure trail.

Just like that, your brain feels like it’s suddenly on tape delay. Everything moves into slow motion as you try to process reality, put some pieces together to make sense of it all. Joel fucking men instead of women simply hadn’t crossed your mind as a possibility; you had never even noticed any clues that he is into guys.

Before you can get a look at the second guy, Joel moves again and covers his lover’s body with his own. He leans on the bed with his left knee next to the man, low and quick whispers of promise and encouragement directed at him. Joel is so hard that his dick almost presses up against his belly, and you watch as his fingers move quickly, almost effortlessly.

He grabs a hold of himself and gives his dick a few strokes, foreskin sliding up and down over his length, as he then guides the fat head back to the guy’s ass. His partner’s hips buck up when Joel fits the tip of his cock back inside of him, and Joel reassures him with a soft chuckle. “Here we go. Y’got it, always taking me so well”, Joel breathes, and both the guys moan as Joel’s cock slides right back into his lover again.

With his right hand freed up now, he runs it over the man’s thigh, spreading him a little further open for him as he finds his rhythm again. Joel’s right foot is firmly planted on the floor, and with his leg pressed against the end of the bed, it gives him exactly the balance he needs to thrust into his lover. With the man’s leg still up over his shoulder, Joel is towering over him; you feel weak simply imagining being on the receiving end. This position makes him look even bigger, even broader as the sweat drips down from his body. Most of all, the shift is extremely effective, as he’s able to fuck much deeper into the guy now. His large cock slides smoothly into the guy’s ass, who eagerly tilts his hips to further welcome Joel into him, his own belly slick as he’s leaking precum all over himself.

“Open your mouth, take these fingers for me,” you hear Joel groan, followed by the wet sounds of the man obliging, sucking on Joel’s thick fingers. But the sight of Joel fucking into his lover is hypnotic, making it difficult to tear your eyes away and focus on anything else.

“Please…” The sound that the guy makes is muffled, almost a gasp, and full of worship and desperation. It seems to affect Joel hard, making him even more feral, and you see him shiver as he pounces into the guy.

“I know, I know. You wanna be so full of me always,” Joel hushes him, and you hear the moan he gets in response. “Every single way, huh? Taking whatever I give you.”

Finally you can tear your eyes away from Joel’s cock, just in time to see him take his slick fingers out of the guy’s mouth. You’re denied a view at the guy’s face though as Joel’s lips immediately capture him in a deep kiss, growling softly as he claims his lover with his tongue. You bite your own lip as you watch them kiss, reeling from the way that Joel is seemingly effortlessly in charge. The way he kisses is just as firm and decisive as the way he fucks, and it just might be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Good boy,” Joel gasps as their kiss ends, and you see his hips slam hard against his lover. “Ooh, you’re such a good fucking boy, Marcus.”

You freeze, suddenly finding it impossible to breathe as your head is spinning out of control. Marcus? For a millisecond you find yourself trying to convince yourself that you misheard it, or that Joel was maybe subconsciously thinking of your father for some reason. While… fucking a guy. Maybe a secret crush?

But the guy’s breathing audibly stutters at the mention of the name, a clear indication that the praise is meant for him. His head tips back as he closes his eyes - and for the first time you see his face.

Marcus.

Your father.

Joel is fucking your father…

…and calling him a good boy.

And your father was massively getting off on it.

“What the FUCK?”, you blurt out, startling both him and Joel as their heads flew up, staring at you. “What the… DAD??”

“Shit!” The expression on your father’s face falls instantly, the shock clear to see - and probably similar to what you’re feeling yourself - as panic overtakes his eyes. His fingers claw into Joel’s shoulders as he stops him midthrust, obviously scrambling to gather his wits. “Honey, this isn’t what—...”

“HE HAS HIS DICK UP YOUR ASS!! What is not—” You gasp as you immediately cover up your mouth, in disbelief with the words that fall from your lips. No, you don’t even want to hear yourself say them; they taste bitter and asinine on your tongue, making your stomach turn in a way that makes you wonder if you’ll ever be okay again.

Right now you’re not even sure what is hurting the most and responsible for the throbbing headache you have; the rejection from Joel, his betrayal, or the fact that your father - who has been married to your mother for almost 23 years - is getting plowed by his best friend.

“I thought… But you…” The words start coming again when you meet Joel’s eyes, who are just as panicked as your dad’s, but also seem apologetic at the same time. Not for getting caught, you think, but for shocking you - for making you rapidly reevaluate everything that happened since the moment you got here, and everything you thought you knew about him.

“You fucking assholes,” you whisper in disbelief at you take a step back, then another, which leads to you smacking into chair next to the dresser that you hadn’t even noticed. “You’re screwing each other??” you then scream as you kick the chair across the room, nearly choking on your tears. All you can do is flee the room and head out into the hallway, practically stumbling towards the staircase.

“Mom!!”

You hate that this is your immediate response, but the urge to run to your mother is too strong to resist as your head is reeling. You have to get away from that room, Joel’s room, the sight of him and your father entwined in the sheets, Joel fucking him, folded in half - the way you had envisioned being with him, the way he would want you. Or so you had thought.

You’re not sure what burns hotter inside of you. There’s the shock of seeing your father get dicked down by a man, and the humiliation of realizing that probably meant Joel had not been interested in you at all. God, the things you had done these past weeks, throwing yourself at him in so many ways, thinking he was into the games you were playing. But as you rush down the stairs, it feels like the tears are crowding your throat because of what this will do to your parents’ marriage.

“Mom!”, you yell again, rushing through the kitchen to her office, where you don’t even pause to knock - you just push the doors open and storm in, your mom sitting behind her desk as she looks up at you in surprise.

“Sweetheart, what—“

“He’s having a goddamn affair!”, you shriek, struggling to get a hold of yourself. “With Joel! Your perfect fucking husband, he’s up there getting pounded by—“

“Watch your mouth!” Your mom’s voice cuts you off like a whip, anger written all over his face as she gets up to grab you by your arm. “Hey. For God’s sake, you don’t get to talk about your father like that.”

“Did you even hear me?” For a moment you’re at a loss for words, staring at her. “Dad is cheating on you. He’s getting fucked by Joel right the fuck now, actually. I can’t believe that asshole came to stay here for the summer and then…”

Your mom’s voice gets even sharper as she calls you by your full name now. “That’s enough. Get it together. I’m sorry you walked in on that, and I’m sure that…”

“That what? I need to get it together?”, you snap at her, pulling away from her grip on your arm. “I’m not the piece of shit husband who is fucking around you, right in your own house and—“.

“NO MORE, you hear me?,” she snaps right back at you, voice booming as she raises her hand, as if to physically stop your rambling. “What your father and I and Joel get up to in the bedroom is none of your business, young lady. Watch your mouth, this is still our roof that you’re under.”

The words feel like knives being shoved in your back, or brain, one by one by one, and for a moment you think you’re actually gonna get sick. “You knew?? You’re fucking him as well? What kind of twisted shit is this?” you manage to say at last, your knees feeling like they’re gonna give out on you. You grab onto her desk to steady yourself, your hand next to the large heavy paper weight that’s resting on some pieces of paper, and you shake your head as you’re unable to compose yourself. It’s like everything just keeps getting worse. “Jesus Christ, that’s so - I don’t want to know anything about this shit, this is so fucking GROSS.”

The 80 inch TV mounted on the wall flashes bright colors as a news chevron pop ups, the screen catching your eye before your mom can respond to you. The regret you feel for looking at the distraction hits you immediately when you see a shot of the Heroics HQ, followed by a video of your father talking to a group of journalists.

“As a reminder, we will be back at 8 pm with our live coverage of the press conference,” the voice of a female news anchor chirps through the room. “Heroics’ leader Marcus Moreno will elaborate further on this week’s events that…”

“STOP!” You scream the word without even having intended to, the visceral reaction to seeing a segment of him just too strong to deal with. Not now, not right fucking now in this moment. You can’t handle anything about your father anymore.

The ringing in your ears is suddenly loud, and you don’t remember picking up the paper weight - it’s just there, right in your hand, the green color similar to one of Joel’s flannels.

Fuck this shit.

All that registers is the heavy object smashing into the LCD screen, the glass piece and the television both shattering with a deafening sound. Half of the pixels on the screen immediately turn black, showing only a fragmented view of your father’s face - he’s nodding, adjusting his glasses for a moment as he purses his lips, attention never wavering from the person who is interviewing him.

Despite her attempts to get through to you, you’re not paying any attention to your mom who is now furiously yelling at you. You don’t care what she’s saying, or how it’ll cost to replace the large television. Your mother, your father, and Joel fucking Miller. They can all go to hell.

“I hate him so fucking much,” you hiccup through tears as you sink down on the floor, wallowing in your pain and disappointment. “He ruins EVERYTHING.”

Joel’s POV

The panic in Marcus’ eyes is abundantly clear, his eyes growing even bigger when his daughter storms out of the bedroom, yelling for her mom. “Shit. Shit, Joel, we - I’ve gotta–”

Joel shakes his head immediately, his hand firm against Marcus’ chest as he stops him from getting up. “Yeah, no,” he says calmly, letting Marcus’ leg slide off his left shoulder. “You don’t gotta do nothing. And we ain’t done here.”

The lights in the bedroom are flickering erratically, some spiking in brightness that shouldn’t be possible for regular bulbs in household lamps. Others are blinking and buzzing in a jittery way that sounds suspiciously like Marcus’ elevated heartbeat under Joel’s warm hand.

Once again Joel shakes his head. “Marcus. Look at me. Breathe.” He gently urges Marcus down on his back again, brushing his fingers through Marcus’ hair as he brings their foreheads together.

“You’re fine.” A soft whisper, knowing it requires more attention to listen to than his usual speaking voice would. That’s exactly what Marcus needs in moments like this; something to focus on that pulls him out of his head, gets him out of the anxiety. “Hey. You hear me? Repeat it.”

Marcus shakes his head, too dumbstruck by what just happened, and almost Joel heaves a sigh against him, their noses nudging against each other.

“Repeat. It.”

“I’m… fine. I’m fine.” Marcus doesn’t sound too convincing as he takes another deep breath, his head tilting upward as he brushes his lips over Joel’s. “Promise I’m fine,” he then manages, and as if on cue the lights around them stop flickering; some of them turning off, while others stay as they were earlier.

Joel nods, hums in relief as he lets his tongue lick softly at Marcus’ lower lip. “Good. She’s an adult - she’ll be fine too. Cranky, but that ain’t nothing new,” he muses, and Marcus’ laugh bubbles up quick and suddenly as he wraps his arms around Joel, heaving a sigh of relief.

“But what if she…”

“No.” Joel moves up with a frown, gently shrugging Marcus’ arms off, then also pulls his cock out of him, ignoring the small gasp of disappointment that gets him in return. “Thought I told you that you’re fine. We clear?”, he asks as he gets up and reaches for the water on his nightstand, taking a few gulps of it as he admires Marcus laying there spread out on the bed.

It’s not often enough Joel gets to see him like this, just - laying down. Not doing something. The work at the Heroics HQ had been keeping Marcus away from home more than usual, which neither Joel nor Nicole were too pleased with. But it had been a very long time since anyone had been able to convince Marcus Moreno that he needed a break, no matter the tempting suggestions they’d presented to him.

“You’re so bossy.” But Marcus smiles as he watches Joel rummage through his nightstand, pulling out a few things he drops next to one of the pillows before he gets back on the bed.

“You like that about me,” Joel reminds him, leaning down to press a kiss against Marcus’ belly who groans happily in return.

“I do. That - and that big cock of yours. Good selling points.” Marcus fingers some of the gray streaks that have started creeping into Joel’s hair lately, wrapping a lock or two around his index finger. “Maybe a few other things that I like, too.”

Joel grins. “Good. Can’t live on cock alone - we’re not twenty anymore.” He rubs his hand over Marcus’ belly, watching the shivers run down to his neatly trimmed pubes. The dark hair is still sticky from all that precum Marcus had leaked earlier, even though he was no longer erect right now due to the unexpected interruption.

Joel had not expected at first that pursuing him had really been something on her mind. He’d known her since the day she was born, a tiny pink baby crying in Marcus’ and Nicole’s arms, and he’d always felt affectionate about her. She was Marcus’ child after all, no matter how much she seemed to resent that in recent years.

While her barging in on them had been more than just awkward, and would probably lead to some tricky conversations all three of them had been trying to avoid, it did feel like a relief. There is no way she would flirt with him again, and while he felt sorry that her feelings were obviously hurt, he was glad that he didn’t have to address any of it with Marcus or Nicole now.

Your daughter has been calling me daddy while trying to get into my pants. Don’t know what got into her this summer, maybe some hormones hitting hard. He didn’t hold it against her, and maybe at some point they’d all laugh about it. Yet he couldn’t help but mentally revisit some moments in the past weeks, wondering when him being friendly may have gotten misinterpreted.

“Hey. Where’d you go, Miller?” Marcus’ voice and the gentle tug on his hair brings him back into the moment. Joel shakes his head as he runs his hands over Marcus’ narrow waist, giving his cheeks a quick squeeze.

“Didn’t go anywhere, I’m right here.” He kisses Marcus’ belly button, mapping his skin with his lips and tongue as he moves lower, running his fingers through Marcus’ sticky, matted down pubic hair. “Look at you being a mess. Just how I like you.”

Marcus whimpers when Joel brushes his nose against his cock, giving him a few small licks before he runs his tongue all over the sticky head. “God, Joel. You can’t just say shit like that.”

“ ‘Course I can. Know what that does to you.” He knows they don’t have long until Marcus is leaving again, but he’ll take what he can get for now. Teasing Marcus with his tongue and lips, toying with his foreskin - the gasps that escape from Marcus when Joel pushes his tongue inside of it simply never fail. So Joel ignores the clock on the wall, taking his time to let his mouth pay homage to every bit of Marcus’ cock and balls, feeling how most of the tension has left his body by now. His moves are slow and hazy, lips parted in pleasure the entire time as he watches Joel go down on him. But by the time he’s almost fully erect, his hips are pushing up needily, wanting so much more than he is getting right now. “Joel. Want you back inside of me.”

Joel grabs the lube he’d put next to the pillow, squeezing a considerable amount on his hand which he then uses to fists his cock, slicking himself up anew. Marcus likes it wet, messy and intense - and Joel was never shy about using plenty of lube, wanting to make sure Marcus could take him the way and for as long as he wanted to.

He slips the three metal rings on his right hand when Marcus’ eyes are closed for a moment. They’re thick, even around his fingers, and Joel flexes them as he gets used to the initial heating of the metal to match his body temperature.

“You want it hard, baby?” Joel runs his fingers over the head of his dick, thumbing the two metal metal studs from his apadravya piercing. He still remembers the first time they fucked after it had healed. Marcus wouldn’t let him out of his bed for a full day, eager to discover all the new ways that Joel felt and tasted and responded to him. That little zing that still happens whenever Marcus cups Joel’s dick, even if he’s fully clothed. By now, Joel was more than adept at making Marcus fall apart for him so beautifully, especially with the apadravya stimulating his prostate.

But the rings… They were still a fairly new addition, another experiment by Joel. He was no scientist when it came to electromagnetic waves, but he knew what worked for Marcus. And every time Joel fucked him while also using his ringed hand to jerk him off, the eventual release would simply knock Marcus out. Even Joel could feel the pieces of metal respond to each other, which would almost violently shove him towards a release that made his brain short circuit.

“Yes.” Marcus’ eyes are black with need as he watches Joel, breathing heavily as he reaches out to run his hands over Joel’s soft belly. “I really… Really need it hard. Please, Joel.”

“Not gonna slow down.” He can’t help but wrap his fingers around Marcus’ wrist, bringing his hand up so he can press a kiss to his palm, nuzzling his stubble against the soft skin. “Unless you decide to safe word.”

“I know. We’re good.” Marcus’ free hand slides lower on Joel’s belly, down until he reaches Joel’s cock, the fat head leaking against Marcus’ taint. He covers it with his hand, and Joel holds his glance as he sees Marcus focus on him - his breathing easing down, eyes becoming more clear, and then Joel feels the tingling around his piercing and Marcus’ fingers.

“Fuuuck,” he growls in a low voice, slowly - oh so slowly - rubbing his cock against Marcus’ taint, enjoying how sensitive both of them already are. Marcus’ breathing hitches, and Joel can feel him shiver as he just lets go - lets his mind go blank, stay in the moment, willing and accepting anything that Joel wanted to do to him and with him. No Heroics, no being in charge, no city of Austin.

Joel takes his time to sink into Marcus, inch by inch, knowing that if he goes too fast they’re both going to blow in no time. Once he’s fully inside he holds still for a moment, his cock throbbing from the sensation of being enveloped by Marcus.

“Fuck, you always feel so good.” The words escape from Joel’s lips before he can even think about them. When he puts his ringed hand on Marcus’ stomach, the response is instantaneous. Electricity rolls through Marcus’ body as a thunderstorm, making him jerk up, and Joel can’t control himself anymore when he sees Marcus’ pupils dilate, as he’s gasping both in pleasure and need.

“Take it. Take me, pretty boy, that’s it - that’s it, yes,” he pants as he picks up his pace. Their mouths crash together, desperate kisses from both of them as Joel fucks him, needing very little time to get both of them riding as high as they were right before they got interrupted. When Joel wraps his ringed fingers around Marcus’ cock, he feels the charge jump through their bodies - whatever that exactly means -, setting off sparks around them as light bulbs and devices start to buzz again. This time it’s no stress response, but Marcus coming apart under him, having let down all of his defenses to surrender to Joel.

And Joel fucking loves it. It’s his absolute favorite thing in the world, taking Marcus apart and watch him get fucked up. Eyes wide and so dark as he gets all cock drunk, greedily rocking his hips along with Joel’s moves. Fingers trying to hold on to him, and digging into Joel’s shoulders, arms, and the sounds he makes as Joel jerks him off make Joel wish that he could just record them, keep them with him at all times.

When Joel takes a particular hard thrust into Marcus, he swears that for a moment he hears Marcus’ voice on the inside of his brain. “Harder,” a plea that’s not coming from Marcus’ lips, but from somewhere deep within his chest. “Hold me down.” And that - THAT is Joel’s cue. Because Marcus may be a Heroic, a leader for their city and justice, but this… this was the man himself surrendering, this was no longer a superhero, just a desire as sharp as nails digging into Joel’s skin.

Joel reaches up with one hand and gathers Marcus’ wrists above his head, seeing and feeling him tremble as he nods breathlessly. “Make it quiet,” Marcus gasps, and Joel takes over his mouth again with a deep kiss until all of Marcus’ words have disappeared.

“No more thinking. Want you to come on my cock.”

Marcus cries as he nods, arms trying to shove Joel’s away, but Joel knows how he works. Knows that he’s about a minute away from losing it. “You heard me,” he runs his tongue over Marcus’ neck, then sucks a hickey into the sensitive skin. “Y’wanted me to fuck the noise out of your head?” Joel’s hand tightens as he keeps holding Marcus’ wrists pressed down hard against the bed, feeling the shock waves that are running through him start to increase.

The moment Joel’s ringed fingers close around Marcus’ throbbing and leaking cock, he can feel that Marcus is pretty much done for. He feels him buck up against him, hands trying to break free, but Joel shakes his head as he only holds him down more.

“I’d threaten to tie you up, but you’re not even gonna last that long, baby,” Joel coos at him, and Marcus fucking whines at him, begs him even louder this time. His cock twitches hard as Joel jerks him off roughly, electricity bouncing between their bodies in a way that makes it impossible to tell where it starts and where it ends.

“Where d’you want it?”, Joel pants against his ear, his tight grip still holding Marcus pinned to the bed. “Tell me. Use that filthy mouth of yours. Want me to come on your face?” Marcus twitches under them, wordless, so Joel takes it a little further. “On your chest? Down your throat?”

“You know… where.” Marcus’ voice stutters, and this time there are sparks flying around Joel’s fingers, around his rings. “Ple–...”

“Use your goddamn words, Marcus,” Joel growls as he shifts his hips and drives himself home, right against Marcus’ prostate, until Marcus’ body convulses and his teeth bite hard into Joel’s shoulder.

“Inside,” Marcus sobs, and Joel feels him spurt his hot seed onto both of their bellies. “Fuck, Joel, come inside, want you to fill me up.”

“That’s right. Take it like a good boy, all of me,” Joel gasps, and then everything goes bright-hot-white in his head as his body gives out from holding on so long. He buries his face against Marcus’ neck as he shakes, fucking the last bit of his come deep into him before he collapses, completely spent.

It takes him a while to recover, only coming back to his senses by the feeling of Marcus’ lips on his face - soft kisses and sweet whispers as he cradles Joel’s head against him. Joel whimpers, then shakes his head weakly when he feels Marcus start to move - knows he’s about to get up and grab the nearest thing for clean up. “Mmmm, no, no. Not yet,” he mumbles as he puts pressure again on Marcus’ wrists to hold him pinned to the bed, stopping him in his tracks. “Gimme a sec.”

He feels Marcus’ cock twitch hard, despite being completely spent, followed by a deep sigh from Marcus. “If you do that again, I’m just gonna stay and not go back to work,” he mumbles against Joel, who can’t stop himself from smiling. Perfect.

“Got a better idea.” He smacks the side of Marcus’ ass, tilting his hips up to him so he can pull out of him with ease, going much slower than he usually does. “Stay like this for a second,” he orders Marcus, resisting the urge to spread his cheeks and watch his warm cum drip out of him. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.”

He sweeps his fingers through Marcus’ come on his belly and spreads it over the head of the compact metal butt plug he’d taken out of the nightstand earlier. No - it’s gonna have to stay in him for a while with that press conference coming up. So he takes a quick dollop of lube and slicks up the toy some more, then spreads Marcus’ legs a little wider for him.

“How about you keep that f’me, huh? Until you get back home later.”

Marcus gasps as Joel pushes the metal plug inside of him, hips bucking up as his ass eagerly takes the offering. “No, Joel, God… I have to do a press conference,” he croaks, looking at Joel in disbelief as the static crackles between those rings, Joel’s piercing and the plug that’s now snugly inside of him. “You can’t–...”

“ ‘Course I can. Just did it. ” Joel smiles slowly, tiredly at him, as he leans down for one more kiss. “You’ll have a little something to remind you of me.” He strokes his fingers one more time over Marcus’ ass, making sure there’s no discomfort - he knows Marcus can take it, because it hasn’t been the first time Joel sent him back to work like this. Though never before when he was scheduled to talk to press.

“Bastard,” Marcus mutters, but he can’t hide the smile on his face as he gazes at Joel. “Were you always such a fucking menace?”

“Yeap. That, being bossy, and having a big ol’ cock is what kept you hooked on me all those years.” Joel grins as he moves to sit up, groaning when his back protests slightly. “Consider it an incentive to come home right after you’re done.”

“What’s the reward if I do?”

A slow grin spreads over Joel’s face as he raises an eyebrow at Marcus.

“If you’re good, I’ll let your wife eat my come out of you when you come home to us.”

Author's notes:

2. Just to make this very clear in case anyone asks: even though my reader turned out to be Marcus Moreno's daughter, this is definitely not Missy who in canon is Marcus' actual daughter!

3. If you read all the way to the end of this, I APPRECIATE YOU and I'm kissing your forehead (and then high fiving you). I did warn you that this was going to be a ride... 😈 The idea came to mind when @legendary-pink-dot said something completely random to me, which somehow triggered this fic idea, and she and @magpiepills convinced me to write it. @lotusbxtch @mountainsandmayhem were immediately sold, and together with @sin-djarin they were SO crucial to me in helping me map out the scenes/chapters I wanted to write, and they gave me so much feedback along the way <3 Y'all are rockstars!!

Ditto for @qveerthe0ry and @perotovar - THANK YOU for listening to me go on and on about this, and @alltheglitterandtheroar for wondering wtf was going on but nevertheless taking a chance on me/this, hehehe. Finally all my love to @milla-frenchy and @reallyrallyauthor who were up for pre-reading the final two chapters before I posted them; it meant so much to me that I could test it out on folks who didn't know about the premise to see how it would hit! 4. I need to give a major shout out to @radiowallet whose Marcus Moreno is very much what helped shaped 'this' Marcus for me! Her fic Pretend Alleyways (Marcus Moreno x Dieter Bravo) is absolute perfection and one of my alltime favorites, ditto for Like A River (Marcus Moreno x reader x Frankie Morales). Cat, your Marcus stories were the first Marcus fics that I really connected with - I'll keep forever singing your praises about it, so I hope that's okay, haha.

5. Alright. C'mon and yell at me (respectfully! not demurely), I deserve it 😈 I've been feeling like that gif of Dan in Gossip Girl for weeks now, so I'm so excited to finally share the conclusion with all of you. (Have questions? Please do send me asks or put some in a reblog!) I hadn't really ever seen an unreliable narrator in PPCU fic before, so I thought it would be an interesting challenge - and boy, it sure was, this grew a lot bigger than expected. Thank you for giving my fic a chance, I hope you liked it!

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If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging the chapter or masterlist - that helps to get it out there to other folks! Either way, thank you so much for reading + supporting! 🙏

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pucksandpower · 1 year

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okeyyyy!

but we need a Grid Kids that maybe y/n and seb were in an car accidente (and y/n took the worst of it) and now the roles are reversed, now they are gonna take care of them

Loving this series so much

Grid Kids: UNO Reverse Card

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the roles are reversed when disaster strikes and your grid kids make it their duty to take care of you

Series Masterlist

The rain is pouring down and the paddock is filled with the usual organized chaos accompanying a wet race. The garages are lively with the sounds of mechanics tuning engines, engineers going over data, and drivers preparing for the race.

Suddenly, a deafening silence descends as a member of the Aston Martin team rushes in, face pale and voice shaking, “There’s been an accident. It’s Sebastian and Y/N.”

The news spreads like wildfire. The paddock, usually filled with the roars of engines and excited chatter, is now eerily quiet. Your grid kids, upon hearing the news, rush to find out more details, their faces masks of concern.

A shaky video from a fan’s phone plays on loop on their screens, showing the aftermath of a devastating collision. Your car is almost unrecognizable, crushed, with the driver’s side visibly less damaged.

George, having seen the video, collapses onto a nearby chair, tears streaming down his face. “This can’t be happening,” he whispers.

Lando, usually the life of the party, stands frozen, disbelief evident in his eyes. Mick, face ashen, tries to make calls to get more information while Lance rushes to find his father to find out if the team has heard anything more.

***

Soon, details emerge that you bore the brunt of the impact and your condition is critical while Sebastian, though injured, is stable. The helicopter is already airlifting you to the nearest hospital.

As the severity of the situation sinks in, your grid kids, in an unprecedented move, gather together for an emergency meeting. The weight of the decision is clear in their eyes.

After what feels like an eternity, Charles stands up, his voice firm yet choked with emotion, “We’re pulling out. We can’t race knowing Y/N is fighting for her life. We need to be there for her, just like she’s always been there for us.”

The decision is unanimous. One by one, they all agree. Telling their teams and the FIA descends the paddock into even more chaos.

***

The hospital waiting room is filled with a mix of team colors. Red from Ferrari, orange from McLaren, deep blue from Red Bull, green from Aston Martin, white from Haas, and black from Mercedes. The fierce rivalry that usually defines race weekends is nowhere to be seen. Instead, they’re united in their concern for you.

Sebastian, despite his injuries, is by your bedside, holding your hand, praying silently for a miracle.

As the hours drag on, the grid kids take turns sitting by your side, sharing stories, hoping their voices provide some comfort, even in your unconscious state.

Mick, teary-eyed, recalls, “Remember when I missed my dad? You were there for me.”

Lando adds, “And when I just wanted milk? You welcomed me like family.”

Charles, voice filled with emotion, says, “We’re here now, for you, just like you’ve always been for us.”

***

As night turns into dawn, there’s a shift. Your vitals start stabilizing and the worst seems to be over. The relief is palpable as the somber mood hanging over your family fades away.

Sebastian, tears of gratitude in his eyes, thanks each one of them. “She’s strong, and with all of you here, I knew she’d find a way to fight through.”

***

A week has passed since the accident and you’re now firmly in the recovery phase. The room is overflowing with flowers, cards, and quirky gifts — each one a symbol of just how much you mean to the racing community.

As you slowly regain consciousness, groggy from the medication, the first thing you spot is a balloon, bobbing near the ceiling, with the words “Speedy Recovery!” It has a little caricature of you in a race car with your cat (in a tiny sweater) on your shoulder. Another one reads, “Get back on track soon!”

Mick enters the room with a tray, “Look who’s awake! I made you my special recovery smoothie. Okay, it’s mostly chocolate ... but it’s the thought that counts.”

Charles follows, holding a peculiar-looking teddy bear dressed in a racing suit. “Meet Racy. He’s going to keep you company. We tried to smuggle Speedy in under our hoodies but got caught so this is the next best thing.”

Lando waltzes in, proudly holding up a t-shirt with “I survived a car crash and all I got was this lousy t-shirt” printed on it.

Max pops his head around the door, holding a full-sized F1 helmet, “You better wear this the next time you get in a car.”

George, with his trademark smile, presents a plush safety car. “To keep you safe and sound, always.”

Lance, trying to contain his grin, brings in a steering wheel cushion. “For those moments when you feel the need to take control of your recovery.”

You can’t help but chuckle at their antics. “You guys ... always know how to lighten the mood.”

Sebastian, holding your hand, grins, “They’ve been brainstorming ways to cheer you up nonstop for days now.”

***

Determined to keep things positive, your grid kids rally together for a surprise. As the evening descends, they transform your room into a mini-movie theater. They even managed to sneak in a projector.

The movie choice? “Cars” of course.

Lance, armed with a bucket of popcorn, declares, “I mean, if we can’t race real cars today, might as well watch animated ones!”

Mick dims the lights and George hits play. As the familiar sounds of the movie fill the room, everyone settles in ready for a night of laughter.

***

It doesn’t take long for the grid kids to turn the movie night into their own commentary session.

As Lightning McQueen races across the screen, Max quips, “I think I could’ve taken that turn better.”

Lando, laughing, chimes in, “And Mater reminds me of Charles after a few too many energy drinks.”

Charles feigns outrage, “That’s unfair! I’m at least 10 percent more sophisticated than Mater.”

You, through bouts of laughter, shake your head, “Honestly, I can’t decide what's better, the movie or your commentary? You guys might have a future on a broadcast somewhere if this whole racing thing doesn’t work out.”

As the credits roll, Sebastian whispers, “This is exactly the medicine you needed.”

Your grid kids truly make the day memorable, proving that through thick and thin, family — in whatever form it may take — is everything.

***

The sun is high and the paddock is buzzing with energy as preparations for the upcoming race are in full swing. As you and Sebastian approach, there’s a sudden almost comedic halt in activity. It’s as if someone hit the pause button on a remote. Everyone turns to face you, jaws dropped.

Lance feigns fainting, “Is it a mirage? Or has our beloved Y/N truly graced us with her presence?”

Max approaches with an exaggerated limp, mimicking you, “Thought I’d get into the spirit of things,” he says with a smirk.

George emerges from the crowd holding a makeshift red carpet (it’s just a red towel he stole from Ferrari), rolling it out in front of you. “For our returning queen,” he declares with a bow.

Charles and Lando appear, each holding one end of a “Welcome Back” banner. You try to turn your head to read it … they accidentally held it upside down.

You’re trying hard to hold back tears of laughter. “You guys are impossible,” you manage to say between your chuckles.

Mick, with a gentle smile, approaches holding a small framed photo. It’s of you surrounded by all your grid kids, taken during a race earlier in the season, with the inscription “Family, Always.”

Touched by the gesture, you softly say, “Thank you so much, Mick. This means a lot.”

“You’ve always been there for us,” he replies. “It’s only right that we’re here for you.”

Sebastian, wrapping an arm around you, adds with a grin, “I think they missed you.”

You really loved your grid kids.

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