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uniquexusposts · 3 months ago

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A one-day friend - O. Piastri

Summary: Y/n and Oscar sit next to each other on a flight and get to know each other. Note: I know Oscar probably flies business or first class, but for the story he doesn't.

A small smile curved on Y/n her mouth when she looked out of the airplane window. She was leaving Europa behind. After a month of travelling through Germany, France, Switzerland and Italy, it was time to go home. Y/n was glad she finally could go home, but this trip made her realise how much she wanted to move to Europe, being free and away from home.

It was sunny outside, there were no clouds. Usually, Y/n flew on the worse times: in the night and in the bad weather. This was one of the first times she was able to have a look at the tiny countries. While looking at the view she got, her mind stopped working - in the right way. She finally cleared her mind. There was nothing she was thinking of. It was like meditating.

The entertainment system of the airplane was insanely good. There were a lot of films Y/n was planning on seeing but didn't have the chance to because...reasons. She was glad she had the time and was being able to watch the films now.

When the first film came to an end, Y/n planned on catching up with work. Her fingers touched the touch screen to look up the flight details. She tightened her jaw when her airplane neighbour was touching her arm. I get it, we don't have much space, but you are in my aura right now. Before she knew it, the head of her neighbour was softly falling on her shoulder. Y/n gently moved her head to see what exactly was going on. The man was asleep. Great. She closed her eyes and sighed, annoyed.

There was an option to wake him up, but Y/n didn't want to. Maybe something was going on with him, and perhaps this was the first moment he could sleep? Or maybe he had anxiety? Or he just broke up? Or he was just tired? Y/n opened her eyes and looked at the screen again. She was being kind and let him sleep. Four more hours to go and a fantastic entertainment system. The option work wasn't an option anymore.

"Good evening, this is your captain speaking. In less than 20 minutes we will be arriving at Dubai International Airport. It is currently 21:45 and 30º degree celsius. On behalf of Emirates and the crew, thank you for flying Emirates, and hopefully, we will see you soon again," the captain spoke after a few hours.

Y/n stretched her legs and breathed deeply but gently in. The man was still sleeping with his head on her shoulder. It gave her two thoughts: he was a stranger, this was odd, and it wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought it would be. The cabin crew were walking through the plane to get all the garbage and inform the people to straighten their seats. The friendly steward asked if Y/n could wake up her partner. What partner?

She did what she was being asked and nudged the side of the man with her elbow. The man looked up, and his eyes widened. "We are about to land," she awkwardly smiled and pressed her lips into a thin line.

"Oh," he mumbled and looked confused around. "Thank you. And I'm sorry," he apologised. "Have I been asleep for the whole flight?"

"Yup."

"I'm sorry," the man said again.

Y/n looked at him. "It's alright," she told him. The look in her eyes was warm and friendly. The man felt sorry he might have made her flight uncomfortable. "They...erm...gave me the snacks. So..." She gave the man the two cups of water and some crackers.

"Right, thanks."

Maybe the best part of this flight was for the man, he was the one who got his sleep. Y/n, on the other hand... Sitting at the window seat is fantastic because you can look outside, but when having strangers next to you who are asleep...not ideal. Especially when you need to go to the bathroom. For those six hours, it was slightly subtle. But for the next flight, it would be hell. Why am I so helpful to people?

The plane landed safely and smoothly at Dubai International Airport. It was already dark and warm, but that didn't matter to Y/n. She needed to go to her transfer flight on the other side of the massive airport. There were two hours left to the next departure. Y/n was glad she could finally walk and stretch her legs properly. It was late in the evening, so there weren't many people around the airport anymore. She didn't mind, within 30 min she was at the right gate. It gave her the time to look around at the duty-free stores. It was the same as the airports in Europe, so there weren't many new things to see.

Even though it wasn't new, Y/n found a manner to almost miss her flight. And you know when you are a national embarrassment when they have you call your name through the speakers of the airport. But she wasn't the only one, more people were invited. Y/n made her way to the gate and showed her ticket.

"You are right on time, Miss Y/l/n," the Qantas Airline employee said.

Y/n politely smiled and walked towards the airplane. Fourteen more hours to and we are reaching the next destination: Melbourne. She ran her hand through her hair and stepped into the aircraft. The friendly crew welcomed Y/n and guided her to her seat.

"Thanks," Y/n thanked the woman and smiled.

Window seat, again.

She looked at the people who were sitting next to her. A woman and a man, but one of them was the man who slept next to her on the flight to Dubai. Her eyes widened, and she parted her lips. They both stood up to let Y/n take place on her own seat.

"Well, this is awkward," the man said and looked at Y/n. Y/n fastened her seatbelt and made herself comfortable for how comfortable an economy seat could be. "Next time, just wake me up."

What are the coincidences this is actually happening?

"I will," Y/n shortly said.

"I'm Oscar," the man introduced himself and stuck out his hand.

"Y/n." She grabbed his hand and softly squeezed in it.

"Nice to meet you, Y/n."

He was polite. "Nice to meet you too, Oscar."

"This is actually the first time I have seen this film," Oscar said when 'Bohemian Rhapsody' ended.

Y/n raised her eyebrows and looked surprised at him. "You serious?" Oscar slowly nodded. "You seriously have something missed during those years. I'm glad I made you watch it."

The fourteen-hour flight was surprisingly good and fun. Oscar was a kind man, after all. They talked a bit and watched a few films together. Y/n wasn't able to sleep, she couldn't sleep on the plane, and Oscar already had his sleep from the previous flight.

Oscar smirked. "You got me," he said and stretched his arms above his head. "Four more hours to go." Y/n took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm going for a walk. Maybe you should go too."

He was right; having a walk through the plane - it probably wasn't more than 150 metres if you walked to the back of the plane and back, but it was a walk to stretch the legs on this long flight. Oscar asked the unknown woman, who was sitting on his other side if she could stand up. Oscar and Y/n got up and walked to the back of the plane.

"This is just so awkward," Y/n said. "All those people who are looking at you, yikes."

Oscar smirked and looked behind him at Y/n. "You must do something for it, Y/n."

When they arrived at the back of the plane, Y/n had no idea what she saw. There was a small bar, there were bowls filled with fruit and biscuits. She looked at Oscar, and a happy smile grew on her lips.

"See, the back of the planes are the best. Not many people know this, but this is for us, the economy section. This is another reason why you should go for a walk in the plan: drinks and food," he told her and grabbed an apple and a biscuit.

"Wow, what an invention. Brilliant," Y/n spoke and grabbed an apple as well. It felt good to walk around. Sitting on an airplane seat for several hours was awful; the little space, the many people in your aura and not being able to stretch your legs as you want to. "I will keep this in my mind. I seriously had no idea this actually was on a plane."

"Perks of a frequent flyer," he winked.

"I am too," she smirked. "But I had no idea."

"Oh."

The last four hours went by, and they landed safely on the Australian ground again. Y/n was glad she wasn't alone after all. Flying with someone on your side is a lot better than flying alone. They had talked a lot about regular stuff, like politics, the news and that kind of stuff. They left the plane and walked both towards the exit of the airport.

Y/n read the signs on the board and looked around. "I have to go to my next flight," she mentioned Oscar and stopped walking. His smile softened and looked disappointed at her. It was almost sad to see him like that like he hoped Y/n would go to Melbourne as well. "So..."

"Where do you have to go?" He asked curiously.

"Sydney," she answered and pressed her lips into a thin line. "Thanks for the great company, it absolutely made it all better," she smiled.

He nodded and gave her a small smile, he surely was disappointed to leave her behind. "Give me your phone." He had to deal with this situation quickly, as the intercom called for the flight was about to board to Sydney. Y/n squeezed her eyebrows together and grabbed her phone out of her pocket. "I really enjoyed this flight, I wish every flight was just as joyful as this one. Text me when you are home, okay?"

Is this his smooth way for asking my number? To keep in touch with me? "I will."

Y/n put her phone back in her pocket and gave him a warm but exhausted smile. An hour and thirty more hours to go, and she was home. People from their flight passed them, some were annoyed, some were happy to arrive at their home base.

"I really have to go," she said and slowly walked away. "Thanks again!"

Oscar parted his lips and knew he needed to say something. "You can 'accidentally' miss your flight so I can take you out on a coffee!"

Y/n looked at him and lowered her eyebrows while a cheeky smile curved on her lips. "Safe trip home, Oscar," she chuckled.

"It was worth a shot," Oscar said loudly and pointed at her. It made her laugh. "Have a good flight, Y/n!" He showed one of his best smiles and winked.

Y/n bit her lip and turned around while she walked away. A small smile played on her lips. It was just a friend on the plane. Sometimes you have friends for a short time because you are in the same situation. This is a situation like that. But this oddly felt more than just a friend.

No Y/n, just a one day-friend, great company on the flight, maybe a little bit too much coincidence, but a one day-friend.

Her eyes fell on the dark airport. There were lights of a landing plane, the runway and...and the ugly self-reflection of herself in the windows. A sigh left her mouth, and she went to the gate of her last flight.

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p0orbaby · 4 months ago

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A Drop in the Ocean

summary: you buy barça for alexia

warnings: none

a/n: requested on the back of a similar one i wrote

word count: 1.5k

You don’t even think about it anymore, the money. The commas and zeros stopped meaning anything the moment they started adding up faster than you could count. You don’t remember exactly when it happened, just that it did. One day you were checking the balances on your brokerage account religiously, watching the stock tickers on your phone at breakfast, and then at some point—probably after that second meeting in Geneva or maybe the fourth trip to Dubai—you stopped caring altogether. The accounts became endless, infinite, numbers that only existed on a screen and held no weight in the real world. You could buy anything, do anything. You do.

You’ve bought Barcelona FC. For Alexia.

It wasn’t a particularly difficult purchase, and that’s what bothers you, how easy it was. You’d made a few calls, orchestrated a few backroom meetings with men in navy-blue suits who wear Patek Philippe watches but don’t know how to spell "integrity," and within weeks, it was done. The club—one of the most storied institutions in world football—was now, for all intents and purposes, yours. They were failing in every department that mattered, so it wasn’t hard to make them see reason. The board was crumbling under its own corruption and incompetence anyway, the men in charge having long ago stopped caring about anything other than their own salaries. They saw the numbers you offered and couldn’t sign the dotted lines fast enough.

You’re sitting in the back of your Bentley Bentayga—the V8 model because the W12 felt too much, like gilding the lily—watching the city of Barcelona pass by in blurred streaks of sunlight and shadows. You don’t drive yourself anymore; it’s not that you’ve forgotten how, but why would you bother when you can pay someone to do it for you? You’re sipping on an iced Americano from a local coffee roaster that isn’t La Colombe but isn’t Starbucks either—because Starbucks is for tourists and people who don’t care what real coffee tastes like—and tapping your thumb against the cool glass, counting down the minutes until you get home. Home isn’t the place you grew up, or even the first penthouse you bought in Barcelona—God, you’ve already sold that one off—but the sprawling villa in the hills that overlooks the city like a predator watching its prey.

You’d bought the house because Alexia liked it. You had taken her to see it on a whim, even though you knew you’d buy it regardless of her opinion. But she’d loved it, her eyes lighting up in that way they do when she’s genuinely moved by something, not when she’s just being polite or trying to please you. It’s rare, that reaction, and you’ve noticed it only happens when she’s either on the pitch or somewhere quiet, somewhere she can breathe. It makes you feel something, a tightness in your chest, almost a panic, like the world’s collapsing in on itself, but in a good way. If there even is a good way for that to happen.

Your phone buzzes, vibrating against the buttery-soft leather of your seat. You glance at it and see it’s a text from her.

Training's over. Home soon?

You smile, the kind of smile that makes the people around you uneasy, because they never know if it’s genuine or not. It is, but it’s small, fleeting, like everything in your life that isn't Alexia.

On my way. You send the reply quickly, almost too quickly, like you’re not supposed to care that much. But you do. You always do.

You met Alexia when you were young—stupid young—back when you still believed that success was something you had to fight for. She was everything you weren’t: grounded, focused, humble. Even now, with all the accolades and the Ballon d'Ors and the fanfare, she still feels *real* in a way you don’t anymore. She still eats cereal for breakfast sometimes, not some overpriced organic granola shipped in from the Swiss Alps. She’ll sit on the sofa in her sweatpants and watch trashy reality TV with you, her feet in your lap, like the world outside doesn’t exist. Like she’s not the face of women’s football, the woman everyone wants to be. You want to be her too, sometimes.

But then you remember: she’s yours. And you’re the one with the power, the one pulling the strings now. You’re the one who’s going to fix everything for her.

You think about the RFEF, the Royal Spanish Football Federation, and how utterly revolting they are, how they’ve mishandled everything about the women’s game. It makes you angry, but not in the way normal people get angry, not in that quick, fleeting way. Your anger is cold, calculated, the kind of anger that doesn’t make itself known until it’s too late. You’d called in favours—favours you didn’t even know you had—and now you’re restructuring the whole thing from the inside out. The old guard, the men who’ve spent years belittling and undermining women’s football, will be gone soon, and they don’t even see it coming. You’ll replace them with people who actually care, people who understand what’s at stake.

Alexia doesn’t know yet. She doesn’t need to. She already carries enough weight on her shoulders; you see it in the way she moves, the subtle slump in her posture after a long day. She’s been fighting this fight for years, but you can take it from here. You’ll make sure she never has to fight again.

When you finally pull up to the villa, the sky is turning that particular shade of burnt orange that only seems to exist in Spain. The driver opens your door, and you step out, the sound of your Louboutins clicking against the cobblestone driveway. You’re wearing something understated but expensive—a cream-coloured silk blouse from The Row, tailored trousers that cost more than most people’s monthly rent, and a watch that could fund a small country’s healthcare system for a year. You’ve always preferred quiet luxury, the kind of wealth that doesn’t scream but whispers, softly, in the background. Alexia likes that about you. At least, you think she does.

You walk through the front door—minimalist, custom-made, imported from Italy—and the scent of jasmine fills your lungs. Alexia’s perfume. She’s here.

You find her in the living room, sprawled out on the sofa, her legs up on the coffee table, still in her training kit. Her hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, strands falling loose around her face. She’s scrolling through her phone, probably reading up on whatever the media is saying about the latest match, and she looks up when you walk in. There’s that smile again, the one that makes everything else disappear for a moment, just a moment, but long enough to matter.

“Hey,” she says, her voice soft, like it’s only meant for you.

You cross the room and sit next to her, pulling her legs into your lap, your fingers automatically tracing circles on her shins. You don’t say anything for a while, because neither of you needs to. The silence between you is comfortable, familiar, the kind of silence that only comes when two people have been through everything together and still come out on the other side.

“I bought the club,” you say, casually, like you’re talking about picking up milk from the store.

Alexia looks at you, her eyes widening for a second before she catches herself. She’s good at that, at pretending nothing surprises her, but you know her well enough to see through it.

“You did what?” she asks, her tone somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

“I bought Barcelona,” you repeat, leaning back against the cushions. “They were fucking it all up, especially with the women’s team. I’m fixing it. For you”

She doesn’t respond immediately, and you can see the gears turning in her head, trying to process what you’ve just said. It’s not that she doesn’t believe you; she does. It’s just…a lot.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says finally, but there’s no conviction in her voice. She knows as well as you do that you don’t *have* to do anything. You want to.

“I did,” you reply, your voice firm. “Because they don’t care about you. Not like I do”

She looks at you for a long moment, and you can see the conflict in her eyes, the push and pull of wanting to argue but knowing there’s no point. You’ve already made up your mind. You always have.

“Thank you,” she says eventually, and the sincerity in her voice catches you off guard. You’re used to people thanking you, sure, but it’s always perfunctory, transactional. This is different. This is real.

You lean in and kiss her, slow and soft, and for a moment, everything is perfect. You don’t think about the money or the power or the corruption you’ve spent years navigating. You don’t think about the board meetings or the backroom deals or the restructuring of the RFEF. You just think about her, and how she’s the only thing that makes any of it worth it.

When you pull back, she’s smiling, and it’s that smile again—the one that makes your chest tighten and your heart race in a way that nothing else does. Not even the money.

“Let’s go fix everything,” you say, and for the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you already have.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #fcb femeni #fcb femeni x reader #espwnt #espwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

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cheriladycl01 · 6 months ago

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Hiiii could you write about Carlos Sainz that he has a secret relationship with an Arab Muslim girl (she doesn't wear hijab) 24 years old, Y/N and Carlos' little sister her friend because they go to the same university from Madrid and Carlos always bothered her, he was always around Y/N whenever she was talking with a boy Carlos made them run away and that's how they became a couple but secretly it was due to Y/N's religion and Carlos likes to annoy her by teasing her face to face or sharing a message by pinching her side because she is ticklish and she also annoys him.

Thanks youu 💖

Romeo to my Juliet - Carlos x Reader

Plot: After studying at the University of Madrid, and making friends with Blanca Sainz you were constantly around her older brother Carlos who was … obviously obsessed with you!

A/N: Ive done research before writing this on Muslim culture and struggles, however I am not a person of colour, and do not want to cause any offence when writing this! Also the wording of this request did confuse me a little bit so I’m hoping I’ve got everything that you’ve wanted in here!

Carlos and you were two people you wouldn’t pin together. You were quiet and reserved whilst he was loud and expressive. You were shy, whilst he was confident. But it was those differences that actually made you the perfect pair.

Being in a secret relationship with the Carlos Sainz wasn’t easy, and neither is the story that came with it.

It started when you first applied to university. You got into the University of Madrid and your parents couldn’t be more happy as your father had work in Spain taken from the Middle East, so it wasn’t a difficult family move.

You were a very stylish girl despite being shy and with your outfits it wasn’t hard to catch the eyes on campus. And that was how you met Blanca Sainz.

It was a colder day in Madrid, around November and you were in one of your favourite winter time outfits that’s kept you warm and cozy, still not completely used to the cold winters Europe have compared to the Middle East.

You had this Burberry scarf on, a gift from you father and a gust of win caught you, immediately your hands grabbed for your skirt leaving your scarf to fly off from around your neck.

“Oh my gosh” you gasp as you tried to reach out for it but it just flew off into the distance. You started to run after it, until you saw it hit a girl and practically strangle her.

“I’m so so so sorry! The wind … and it just … and oh my gosh I’m so sorry, it hit you!” You gasp at the girl who looks over you before laughing.

“It’s … a scarf I’m fine” she giggled.

That day you guys got coffee on campus before getting to know each other and you’d been fast friends since.

It wasn’t until the end of your second year in university, your mum and dad had moved back home to the Middle East. And you didn’t know what to do about summer break.

Blanca actually invited you to her family trip to Mallorca and to stay with her in her family home.

You felt bad, so you suggest the first few weeks are spent in your family home in Dubai. And she definitely didn’t want to turn that down.

So of course you guys spent the summer, tanning, in your pool playing games with your mum and dad when they were free and going to get ice cream.

“Your house is insane, what the hell does your mum and dad do!” She asked looking around the 6 bedroom Villa your family owned.

“I don’t actually know, but he’s a business owner of some sort” you giggle, always too bored to listen to your father explain his career.

“There’s an aquarium in your kitchen island …” she points at it, mouth open wide.

“Yeah, excessive i know but my dad adores his fish”

“And your house it on the beach! AND there’s a pool? I don’t even know if I want to see the garage!” She exclaims.

“Mmmmmm yeah my dads also a car collector. He actually left some in Spain in the house there” you offer.

“Your like so humble though! I - WHAT?” She asks in shock and you just laugh her off.

You guys definitely enjoyed your time in Dubai and your parents loved her, she was invited back for the Christmas holidays too.

Then when you got to Spain you met the rest of her family.

“Mum dad, this is my friend Y/N” Blanca offers as you enter the home which was a beautiful Spanish Villa.

“Ah Y/N we’ve heard so much about you from Blanca when she calls” her mother smiles. Ana comes running down the stairs immediately pulling her sister into a hug.

“Ah you must be Y/N? Yes, you are gorgeous! Where are you from!” She grins pulling you into an unexpected hug.

“I’m from Dubai!” You smile and that night guy guys all get to know one another through board games.

It got to just after sunset when you realised that it was time to pray for Maghrib. You calmly excused yourself from the family. Blanca at this point knew when you had to pray and was always very respectful and actually intrigued at the way it all worked. She would be with you on campus in the pray room, or in a random corner of a cafe you guys were studying in and offer you her coat to kneel on if you didn’t have one.

She was the sweetest and most understanding friend you’d ever had.

However, this was the time you met her older brother Carlos. You were just finishing up, in Blancas bedroom when someone came into the room.

“Sorry Blanca, I didn’t mean to be long if I was!” You smile turning round only to see a confused man behind you.

“Erm sorry can I help you?” You ask and he still stands there with his big brown chocolate eyes just staring at you.

“A-sorry you must be, Y/N right? Blanca’s friend that she brought home?” He questions and you nod standing up, reaching out to shake his hand.

He looks down at it smirking before lifting it up and placing a gentle kiss on the edge making you gasp and go wide eyed.

“Well, welcome to the Sainz household. Are you excited about Mallorca?” He smiles and you nod, of course you were, you’d be waiting all summer for it.

And it was an unforgettable summer.

Carlos was ALWAYS around. He was like this little lost puppy and the only time you don’t think he was around was when you showered or slept. He bothered you the whole summer, interrupting you and Blanca when you were trying to tan, or would splash you in the pool when you were lounging on a lilo. He was a menace, but there was a certain type of endearment to it.

He was also insanely protective over you. Whenever you all would go out to bars or restaurants or clubs, you got a lot of male attention, which to Carlos wasn’t surprising.

You were the most beautiful person he thinks he’s ever seen, and he wants you all for himself.

“Hey Bonita, why don’t you come downtown with me, and I’ll show you a good time?” A random guy from the island had said to you in a club.

“I’m fine thank you, I’m here with friends” you smile pointing behind you to the table where Carlos Blanca and Ana are sat.

“I’m sure they won’t mind, come on. ¡Vive un poco!” He exclaims looking over you.

“She said she was fine, and I would mind” Carlos said in a gruff voice coming to stand behind you and hand on your shoulder.

The guy swiftly left, seeing who it was. You’d gotten used to the fact that Carlos would be noticed in public, you tried to stay out of it as much as possible. Whenever a fan came over you’d practically glue yourself to Blanca’s side.

But all the guys that came talking to you Carlos had them running away for one reason or another. Whether it was just him, being Carlos Sainz, or the look he gave them or what he whispered to them when you couldn’t here. They always left.

That was how Carlos and you ended up together. You were a modern day Romeo and Juliet. You knew your parents wouldn’t approve of the Spanish race car driver, just based on all the tabloid articles about him.

“We should leave” he said in a huff, he was always like this and a lot of the times that you left was because of Carlos’ changed mood.

“But we didn’t get here long ago!” You offer and he huffs again, getting more frustrated.

“Just, let’s just go home!” He says again, not touching you but giving you a look as if to say, I will drag you out of here.

“We need to get Blanca and Ana, we can’t leave them!” You say as you start to look around the club for the two girls, hoping they would protest to Carlos wanting to get you to leave.

“They’ll be fine, let’s just go. They are pretty preoccupied anyway” he nods towards them with their boyfriends and how they are dancing.

Next thing you know Carlos was dragging you home, poking at your side saying how you broke your good girl demeanour just to leave the club with him.

“I was in a club, I can’t be that good of a girl” you tease him back and he looks over at you with a sparkle in his eyes. Maybe it wasn’t even there and it was just from the street lights, but he looked so happy and content in this moment that you couldn’t help but stare.

After this summer, you and Carlos hide your relationship from everyone, you hated hiding it from Blanca the most as he would often come find you in Madrid after race weekends to keep you company.

And don’t even start about him at family venues. Despite Carlos wanting to keep the relationship as secret as you did because of the media, and your parents, he wasn’t very good at keeping his gestures subtle.

“Carlos, I haven’t seen you for a while. And whose this, a girlfriend?” One of his aunts comes over seeing you together chatting at a family reunion his mother had hosted after his race win.

He pinched your side teasingly as if to say that you guys must look good together. And as you look up at his face you can see that.

“No this is Y/N Blanca’s friend from university” he offers keeping up with the secret. And your look down smiling to yourself. It was fun in a way keeping up a little white lie that you were with Carlos.

“Shame, she’s a dime and you two would look great together” she winks before fluttering off elsewhere in the house.

“See someone else who thinks we look great together” Carlos says leaning down to meet your eye level making you blush.

“Carlos leave Y/N alone, you tease the poor girl enough you’ll give her a heart attack one day. Come on sweetie” his mother guides you away, you turn round to catch Carlos’ eye before poking your tongue out in a childish manner.

He shakes his head with a slight chuckles as he watches his mum pull you away to a different crowd of people and introduces you.

When you and Carlos would admit your relationship was unknown, but you knew you’d never been happier than you were with Carlos Sainz Jr.

Taglist:

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jiminjamms · 1 year ago

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sex therapy :: 25. messed up

chapter tags/warnings: naoya fucks toji's ex-wife again. aggressive sex. creampie-ing. misogynistic! naoya. hurt/comfort. naoya views women as nothing but a hole. broken marriage. heavy angst. infidelity/adultery. family drama. strong language. manipulation undertones. corruption.

word count: 4.1k

notes: thank you always for all the support! on to the plot for our final arc! this beginning excerpt is a rewording from a line in “spy x family” (any fans out there?) that i believe captures the dynamics in our characters as well. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

❝ Every person has a self that one conceals, a side not shown to anyone else. Not to friends. Not to lovers. Not even to family. Behind lies and painted smiles, individuals shield their true natures and desires…and, in doing so, the world thus maintains its thin veneer of peace. ❞

Who in the world was Toji Zenin?

The Toji that you had always known was Toji Fushiguro, so what was your husband’s cognomen doing besides your sex therapist’s first name on the latter's university diploma?

Even Google seemed to deny that Toji Zenin existed.

Showing results instead for ‘Toji Fushiguro.’

No, that was not what you wanted!

One step forward in understanding this enigmatic man might as well be three steps backward because, each time you thought you had learned something about him, you only come to the realization that nothing much had been discovered at all.

But as investigations via search engines, social media sites, and Wikipedia pages proved futile, sources that could quell your curiosity dwindled.

So, you turned to your last resort.

“Who’s Toji Zenin?”

“What—”

Across from you, the raspberry macaron in Mai’s hand stopped by her lips as the girl snapped her focus from the pastry to your unanticipated question, with Maki visibly turning stiff in the adjacent chair. The three of you sat surrounding a small table in the twin’s private lounge, located in the northern wing within the Zenin residence.

Visiting the central family property was not uncommon ever since your engagement and wedding earlier this year, but the architecture would never fail to impress you. The mansion itself resembled the Imperial Palace more than anything—an edificial centerpiece defined by the elegance and simplicity inherent in traditional Japanese design, with latticework embellishing the wooden exterior and, inside, carefully painted doors opening into tatami rooms.

Given that Mai and Maki were back in Tokyo for their summer breaks from universities abroad, the sisters established themselves as your close friends and had brought you into their tea room, adorned with European furnishings that would come off as atypical compared to the Japanese heirlooms elsewhere in the residence. On the table sat an imported tea set from England, at the center a French-inspired pastry tower prepared with caramel-topped croquembouches, chocolate-covered profiteroles, and the like.

In great admiration, the sisters had been barraging you with inquiries about your life back in your bachelorette days, asking about your volunteering trip to the Philippines or the charity auctions in Dubai.

Now, with the shift in discussion, the sisters exchanged an uneasy look.

An entire conversation appeared to be held in the way they traded glances. The usual sparkle in their eyes faded, which must mean the girls were remarkably uncomfortable, but Mai forced a polite smile as she placed down her macaron.

“Y/N,” she began carefully, “May we ask how you know Toji?”

Even though she tried to spin the question as casual curiosity, her apprehension could not be more obvious.

“I don’t know him, really,” you lied. While dishonesty went against your morals, watching the twins’ shoulders fall with relief was enough to assuage the guilt. “He’s just…” My friend, to put things in the mildest terms. “He’s just a name I have heard. That’s all.”

Maki dabbed at her mouth with a lace handkerchief, not making a big deal as she added, “Toji’s a cousin.”

So, the Zenin last name on his diploma was not a coincidence at all.

Such a groundbreaking discovery should have thrown you into a whole whirlwind but, to be frank, the realization did not come off as too surprising at all. If anything, Toji as a member of the Zenin family was the perfect explanation to why Toji seemed so astute, why he would talk like he knew more about Naoya than you, and—as Geto had once said—why Toji was ‘not where he could possibly be.’

While Toji’s reason for opting for the Fushiguro name remained a mystery, what you did know now was that he was indeed affiliated with the twins before you by blood, which—by extension—must mean that Toji would also be a cousin to…

…your husband.

Wait.

An unsettling chill ran down your spine.

“Cousins, as in,” part of you didn’t want to know the answer, “distant cousins? Or…?”

“No,” the older twin interjected matter-of-factly, not knowing the full background behind your seemingly innocuous question. “First cousins.”

Ah, so the closest type of cousins possible, which was exactly what you had hoped not to hear. With this additional information, you tried to hide the clamminess in your palms. What would be the best word to describe this void now? Did you feel disappointed? Misled? Betrayed? Toji certainly had known that you were wed to his younger cousin, yet he willingly chose to hide his background as he kissed you, touched you, and fucked you.

A reversal from your sentiments before, you currently felt both disgusted and hurt.

Why did Toji keep this information from you? What sick person derived satisfaction from having sex with his first cousin’s wife? You were so damn stupid for placing all your trust in him. Looking at the situation now, he was just another iteration of the same manipulative and disrespectful man you had been trying so hard to avoid.

“Are you close with Toji?”

Mai shook her head. “No. We don’t talk to him anymore.” Her comment struck as odd. Anymore? Had they once been, then? Before you could ask, her gaze darted around in caution before she leaned forward and said lowly, “For your information, Naoya got into a huge dispute with him earlier this year.”

That’s quite recent.

You understood that Mai and Maki had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped as they did not want to slander the family heir in front of his wife. Blissful ignorance was what the twins must be thinking, hoping to preserve the peace between you and your husband. However, what you had yet to reveal was the broken marriage that had been masked for everyone’s sake, disguised by a pretense that all was well.

Which was why, on that note, the timing could not have been more perfect as a tall young man with ombre hair and hazel eyes flung open the door in one unforgiving slam, rattling the fine china and startling the seated individuals inside.

“There you are, you whore!”

Your eyes widened with shock upon seeing Naoya Zenin in the entryway, your husband’s scowl icy and malicious. He came stomping toward you as his eyes held a dangerous hostility that was impossible to ignore, and you could oddly sense an impending doom when he stormed with zero regard for anything in his path, kicking aside a potted plant and toppling over a ceramic vase.

Standing up, you tried to hide the confusion that befuddled your already mish-mashed brain.

Today was Tuesday.

Was he not supposed to be at work?

“Naoya,” you began calmly, cognizant of the onlooking sisters behind you, “this is not the right place to—”

“You’re such a fucking desperate bitch, aren’t you?” His words were sharp and bitter, his glare filled with hatred like a fire doused with gasoline. Before you could request clarification, he stopped steps away and swung his right hand up, pressing a black business card to your stunned face, the paper crinkled from his intense grip and rendering you petrified in your stance.

No, this couldn’t be…

From your peripheral view, you watched Mai and Maki place their hands over their open mouths as they read Toji Fushiguro’s calligraphed name on the business card that also had in obvious words: 'sex therapist.' Shame racked your stomach. Merely minutes ago, you convinced the twins that Toji was to you nothing more than a name, and now, karma bit you back like a bitch.

With your voice evaporated, you croaked.

“Where did you find that?” You had been sure that you placed the badge away.

Naoya used his anger to crumple the card and tossed the now useless paper ball to the side. “In your purse,” he gritted, “How long were you planning to hide this from me?”

The ensuing guilt suffocated you. “I—” I don’t know.

Sensing the weakness in your will, Naoya burst into a maniacal laughter that cracked through the air, creating a disconcerting symphony. He bent forward, shoulders convulsing with every diabolic and mirthful guffaw.

“You’re so god fucking pathetic, woman. Do you have any idea who Toji Fushiguro is? That bastard is Toji Zenin, you ignorant slut—he is my cousin. Well, I guess I never told you about him, though, because he doesn’t fucking matter anymore anyway. I don’t know how you ended up crossing paths with him, but this is hilarious!” The man kept cackling and roaring like he had gone insane. “Were you two brewing shit about me? Actually, let me guess since you’d gotten hold of this business card: did you have sex with him? Did you have sex with Toji? Going around fucking your husband and then your husband’s cousin is nothing to be proud of. Tell me, did you meet the other sex therapists as well? Did you get stretched out by them, too? Whose dick did you like best? Whose? Whose? Is that what you like, being passed around and used like some sick trophy? What a fucking animal! How dare you disrespect our marriage. How dare you disrespect your own hus—”

Your hand lashed out before you could suppress the impulse and delivered one resounding slap across Naoya’s face. You watched him shut up and stumble backward, clutching his cheek.

"Ow!"

For a moment, the world seemed frozen still: the sisters gaping in complete stupefaction, your husband staring at the ground wide-eyed, and you heaving from the incoming emotional onslaught.

”How dare you…How fucking dare you disrespect me!” The coalescence of anger, agony, and resentment—bottled up in your heart for months upon months—was now being released as you dissolved into tears. “What the hell is wrong with you?! How could you say such messed up things? You are sick in the head, Naoya, you know that? Out of respect for myself, how could I possibly respect you?!” The only sound echoing in the room became your uncontrollable cries, sobs that escaped past your lips in raw and muffled bursts. Torn apart by sorrow, you could hardly breathe from how constricted your throat had become, your knees wobbling and weak. “Y-You have no idea how lonely and miserable I have been since I walked down that aisle. For the past six months, you—as my husband—have done absolutely nothing but make me feel like a rat in my own home, a mistress in my own marriage!”

“Fantastic! Exactly what I wanted to hear, I am glad I have made your life horrible!” Naoya snarled, not caring for how everyone else’s eyes widened at the scathing statement. Unbelievable. Truly, painfully unbelievable. Did your husband really just say that to your face? He could not give a shit that you wept pitifully, instead catching your shaky wrist in the tightest grasp possible as he added on, “My only regret is that I had not made your life even worse.”

“What the fuck!” you heard Mai gasp as a gut reaction.

What the fucking fuck, indeed.

While you had been subject to Naoya’s verbal harassment during these many weeks, for him to tell you that he wished he had tortured you further was beyond heartless. The searing ache that burned your skin might as well be fatal because your respiration turned erratic like someone had trapped you inside a bubble.

Hyperventilating, you subsisted on shallow gasps.

“Don’t go around thinking that you’re any better, alright? You’re calling me pathetic for sleeping with your cousin, but have you considered that I had been placed in that position because, since the start, you’ve been cheating on your wife?”

Yelling at his face allowed you to release more tears from your lachrymose eyes. Now, Mai and Maki must truly be appalled at all these revelations. What happened to the fairy-tale marriage you had told them about? Well, that never existed to begin with, and with these thoughts in mind, you found a sadistic satisfaction in watching your lawful spouse fume with deep-seated rage.

“That’s right,” you mused with derision, “we’ve been two sides of the same coin all along.”

Naoya clenched his hands at his sides, disgusted to have been compared to you. “Do not put me on the same level as—”

“No. No, you don't get to talk! All you have done since we have been married is for you to talk and complain and bitch about everything, but now, this is my turn,” you screamed in return. “I…I hate you!” and you pointed right at him, “In fact, I despise you. You never tried to see what I had to tolerate to stay with an asshole like yourself because you had been too busy sticking your dick into another woman while you could hardly look at me! No wonder your cousins worried about me. No wonder Toji told me to file for a divorce. Because you, Naoya Zenin, are a total piece of shit!”

His momentary pause hinted at the tiniest self-actualization that flickered within him. Perhaps he finally realized how you had been feeling now that you freely spat out all the turmoil that had been chaining your soul. He took one additional step toward you, torn between whether he should keep up with his anger or succumb to remorse for hurting you.

But, knowing this man, he—of course—opted for the former.

“I never,” he seethed lowly, “wanted this marriage.”

Maybe you truly have become deranged or maybe you genuinely found his statement funny, for you began to emit tearful cackles in your laughter.

“Now, that is one big fucking lie.” Since your earliest encounter, Toji had suggested that Naoya solely regarded you as nothing more than ‘a sweet, innocent fuck,’ and the longer you had stayed with your husband, the more you began to acknowledge how these accusations were all true. “We all know that you’re going to be nothing without me. A CEO who could hardly keep his wife for half a year? What a loser. What makes you believe that I wanted to be married to you? Who do you even think would want to do business with you after this? You never had respect in the real world because all that respect rests upon me.”

While you never fully understood Naoya, your words must have snapped a particular chord in him because he suddenly lunged forward.

“Fucking cunt—”

But before he could get too close, you darted away from him. “Don’t touch me!” you shrieked, voice shrill from the top of your lungs. “Do not ever touch me again. If you want to lay your dirty hands on someone, go touch your girlfriend instead!”

That’s right, he had another woman who he doted on far more than he could appreciate you. This wedding band, this engagement ring on your left hand meant absolutely nothing. Toji had been spot on—why the hell did you cling onto stupid shit like this, twisting the jewelry as if that would save your messed-up union? Without further empathy, you slid off the two rings and hurled them toward your husband’s chest before the circlets clinked upon hitting the ground.

At first, Naoya scoffed. He watched the ludicrous scene with a comical gaze, and when his brain processed what he just saw, he quickly fell onto his knees. All at once, he tossed his head back and let out a chortle—a full-bodied cachinnation that took the room completely aback—as his hysteria mounted.

“Good, good, good!” His screeches were like those of a maniac, his chuckles haunting, throaty, and lacking in sanity. “I’m glad that you’ve come to show the witch that you have been all along! Look at yourself! No wonder no one wanted you!”

Unable to be a bystander any longer, Mai stood up and hurled toward her cousin. “Shut the hell up, Naoya!”

But the said man was quick, using one powerful movement to punch the older twin first. “You shut the hell up, scum. Unless you want to be pummeled to the point where people will feel sorry to look in your direction.”

“Watch what you say!” and when Naoya turned to the new voice, the evil glint gleaming from his brown eyes appeared ablaze.

“Oh? Someone’s bold, too. Shall I bully you first then, Maki?” the timbre in his disdainful laugh crescendoed into unhinged amusement. “Say one more word, little girl,” he taunted, his imp-like face riddled with mockery. “C’mon. I dare you. I will throw you into the courtyard and beat your ugly face up. That’ll bring back warm memories from the good old days, huh?”

The younger twin gritted her teeth, her sister reaching for her arm as a signal to back down and stay levelheaded.

Meanwhile, once Naoya rose from the floor, he nonchalantly kicked at the rings because those emblems of your union had always been meaningless garbage anyway.

“If wanted to leave this badly, then fucking leave,” he deadpanned, his tone the calmest he had been this whole time. “I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Those were your husband’s last words as he walked away, leaving you sobbing and shuddering with a lost soul and sore heart. While weeping and gasping, you had to endure watching his figure fade from view, all while wanting to stop the uncomfortable distress that heightened with his departure. You were huffing, panting, trying to stop your trembling.

The second Naoya slammed the door behind him, Maki ran up to your side and embraced your shaking form, all while you bawled and clutched at yourself. Her expression remained strong, but her palms were damp as they pressed onto your back, her arms quavering slightly as she soothed your cries.

“Sh, don’t cry. My sister and I are here, okay? Mai and I will protect you. Everything will be alright.”

Despite her reassurances, she sounded nearly as broken as you appeared, especially when your hand violently trembled because nothing could save you from the agony that drowned your tattered soul. You felt the disgusting urge to throw up—you were completely broken inside. In a futile attempt, you sought to regulate your breaths with one deep inhale.

Yet, at some point, Maki peeled back and she mouthed something.

Was she talking to you?

Why…why could you not hear her?

She sounded so muffled, as though you were underwater.

Why did everything sound so far away?

With your throat constricted, you could not breathe. Gagging. Gasping. Big, huge gulps of air, but the oxygen failed to enter your lungs. You couldn’t breathe. You could not fucking breathe.

You gripped the fabric by your chest and your other hand sought for something else to hold, but you ended up on the ground anyway. Choking. Coughing. Was something foaming at your mouth? Something warm and wet spilled from your orifices. Were you vomiting? Why were you vomiting?

Holding your body upright, Maki was the only reason that you had not remained on the floor like a fool, but even she stared at you with concern and…horror? Why did she look so scared? Was she screaming? She looked like she was screaming, but her face appeared all contorted like you were looking at her through a fish-eye lens.

After a while, you could not even see her or her sister anymore because your vision turned spotty and then black.

See!

Open your eyes, and see!

Why could you not see?

When your hearing returned to some degree, the sounds that filled your ears were frantic shouts and endless clamor.

“Call Toji! He’ll know what to do. Hurry, where is your phone?” It was Mai. Scrambling. Bags were being opened. Items being tossed. “Call Toji, now!”

A phone started to ring.

Buzzes and buzzes and more buzzes as the waiting intensified.

Then voicemail.

Hello, this is Toji Fushiguro.

“He is not picking up!”

Unfortunately, I am unable to pick up the phone right now.

“Get…”

But please leave your name and number—

“Get Megumi.”

—and I will return your call as soon as possible.

“What about Tusmiki?”

“Tsumiki is still in London at university, idiot! Call…Call Megumi!”

“Okay. I know, I know! I’m calling him already!” someone screamed back. Was this Mai? Was this Maki? You could no longer tell, but the same person shouted, “Wait, wait. He is calling back. Toji is calling me back.”

“Then pick up the phone!”

“Toji…” one of the twins started, the cracks in her tone making her sound like she was weeping too, and her words composed your last bits of memory before the world dissolved completely. “Please…help us.”

Even labeling Naoya Zenin as ballistic would be far too much of an understatement.

The rage, wrath, and sheer indignation that swelled in his every capillary surpassed the twenty-five years' worth of virulent rancor that he had for his fucked-up family.

Since when did you get so goddamn arrogant? Naoya wanted to hurt you, ruin you, and do everything in his power to sabotage you.

Not just you, though. Because that would be too easy.

But also his father, his cousins, his ex-coworkers, and—most importantly—Toji.

Such ill feelings were what led the Zenin CEO to practically leap into the Mercedes-Benz that awaited him at the entrance to his family home, and he immediately ordered his chauffeur to press on the pedal toward a very certain condominium several kilometers away.

Fifteen minutes later, a very surprised Mari opened her door and an enraged Naoya greeted her, shoving her against the wall and colliding his lips into hers for a fierce kiss. His actions lacked passion, only charged with aggression as he stripped her and threw her onto the living room sofa. He could hardly care that he treated the woman as though she was nothing more than a prostitute, while the latter mistook her boyfriend’s rage for desperation, and she begged for him to pull at her hair and force his tongue down her mouth.

At some point, Naoya drove his mistress’s face into the couch cushion and dragged her hips to have her ass raised high. He was too clouded by fury and too blinded by anger to think twice before he forcefully penetrated the woman. He fucked her raw and held her close, jostling her body as though she was a ragdoll, eliciting her loudest mewls that cried for his name.

“J-Just like that!” she whimpered, eyes rolling to the back of her head as he pummeled into her dripping hole, paying no mercy for destroying her with his ruthless pace. Her knees gave out from under her, and she crumbled from the sofa and into the carpet, only for him to tumble too to follow the socket he needed to keep his dick soaked.

“I need to break you,” he hissed.

Fuck, he was going to come soon.

His nails left crescent marks on her flesh, his hands burning her scalp as he tugged her strands and met her buttocks with hard thrusts, and he knew he was going to come.

Feeling the first of his seed trick into his mistress’s life-giving cavern, he toyed with the idea of giving Tsumiki and Megumi a baby sibling. That would be fun. He could then imagine the subsequent mortified reactions from his deplorable cousin and from his wretched wife (whom he would hardly call himself married to anymore, anyway). The fantasies, everything that he would do to spite those who had wronged him, had Naoya cackling as his viscous cum spurted from his tip and deep into his mistress’s womb.

He pulled out once he made sure that every single drop had been milked from him, his ejaculate dribbling from her pussy like someone had taken a bite from a cream-filled donut.

Rolling into the carpet and onto her back, a panting Mari took two fingers and pressed his precious seed back into her cunt. “That was so hot.” A lazy smile pulled across her face. “Thank you for the unexpected visit.”

Naoya completely dismissed her comments as he tucked himself back into his pants, not in the right mood to respond.

“Cool. Clean this mess up,” he demanded instead, “I’m leaving for work.”

He ignored the woman’s ensuing pleas to stay at least five minutes longer. Unlike her, he had better things to do, and he rushed out as he fetched his phone from his back pocket and surveyed for any messages he might have missed while he had been away.

But when he turned on his screen, his most recent notification had his blood turn cold.

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: The absolute fury in the argument, the complete panic between the twins, and the maniacal temperament in our husband…so much packed in this chapter! If you can’t tell already, my favorite POV to write from is Naoya’s, ha. Also, I took some creative liberty here to convey the intense emotions, so let me know what you think! Hugs to all.

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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kathlare · 12 days ago

Text

wake-up call

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Amelie and Lando enjoy a peaceful stay at a villa in Los Cabos, but Lando's gaming habits disrupt the tranquility.

Wordcount: 1.6 k

Warnings: just fluff

request over here!

December 28th, 2024 - Los Cabos, Mexico

The villa in Los Cabos was exactly what Amelie had imagined when she and Lando agreed to spend a few days unwinding before their upcoming trip to Dubai. The luxurious yet cozy property boasted tall ceilings, large windows that framed the endless ocean, and an open layout perfect for hosting her close friends. It was a rare opportunity to relax, and after a long day filled with sun-soaked adventures and margaritas, everyone had retreated to their rooms to recharge.

Well, everyone except Lando.

From her place in bed, curled up under the softest blankets, Amelie had been peacefully dozing off when the first muffled yell startled her awake.

—NO, NO, NO! MAX, HE’S IN THE FUCKING CORNER!— Lando’s voice cut through the quiet night.

Amelie groaned softly, pressing her palm against her forehead. She blinked at the clock on the bedside table: 1:47 AM. She sat up slightly, listening to the unmistakable sound of Lando yelling through his headset in the living room. She could hear him laughing, then yelling again, followed by a string of unintelligible British slang that she could only assume was aimed at Max Fewtrell and Bankai, his usual partners-in-crime when it came to gaming marathons.

Another burst of loud shouting made her wince.

—¡Dios mío…!— she muttered under her breath, tossing the covers off her legs. Dressed in one of Lando’s oversized McLaren shirts that she had claimed as her own and a pair of shorts, she padded barefoot out of the bedroom.

When she reached the edge of the living room, she saw him: sprawled on the couch, controller in hand, his headset firmly in place. The TV screen was bright with the chaotic visuals of Escape from Tarkov. His back was to her, but she could see the way he was leaning forward, fully immersed, his entire body tense as if he were physically in the game.

—MAX, ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!— he yelled, nearly leaping off the couch. —HOW DID YOU NOT SEE HIM? HE WAS RIGHT FUCKING THERE!—

Amelie crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe, a patient but tired look on her face. —Lando…— she called softly.

He didn’t respond, too engrossed in the action on-screen.

—Lando,— she said again, louder this time. Still no reaction.

She sighed and stepped closer, finally placing a hand on his shoulder. —LAN,— she said firmly.

He jumped, startled, yanking his headset down to rest around his neck. —Bloody hell, Ames, you scared me!— he exclaimed, turning to look at her with wide eyes.

—I scared you?— she asked, arching a brow. —You’ve been screaming like a lunatic for the past hour. You woke me up.—

Lando winced, guilt flashing across his face. —Shit, I’m sorry, love. I didn’t realize I was that loud.—

Amelie gave him a small, tired smile. —It’s okay, but can you please keep it down? It’s late, and everyone else is sleeping.—

—Yeah, yeah, of course. I’ll keep it down,— he promised, looking adorably sheepish.

Satisfied, Amelie kissed his temple before heading back to bed. She had just gotten comfortable again, her head sinking into the pillow, when another shout erupted from the living room.

—WHAT THE FUCK, MAX?! HOW DID YOU MISS THAT SHOT?!—

Amelie’s eyes flew open, and she groaned in frustration. Throwing the covers off once more, she stormed back into the living room. This time, her patience had worn thin.

—¡Lando! ¡Por el amor de Dios, cállate!— she snapped, her voice laced with the fiery frustration only a Latina could deliver.

Lando froze mid-yell, turning slowly to face her. His friends on the other end of the call must have heard her because Max’s laughter burst through Lando’s headset.

—Ohhhh, you’re in trouble now, mate,— Max teased.

—Yeah, sounds like Amelie’s about to kill you,— Bankai added, clearly enjoying the show.

Lando muted his mic and set his controller down, raising his hands in surrender. —Ames, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you up again!—

Amelie put her hands on her hips, glaring at him. —You didn’t just wake me up, Lando. You probably woke up the entire villa! What part of ‘keep it down’ was unclear? Huh?—

He opened his mouth to respond, but she wasn’t finished. —I get that you’re having fun, but it’s almost two in the morning! People are trying to sleep! And I...— She paused, jabbing a finger at his chest. —I will not hesitate to throw that controller into the ocean if you don’t lower your damn voice.—

Lando blinked at her, wide-eyed, before a slow, cheeky grin spread across his face. —You’re kinda sexy when you’re mad, you know that?—

—Don’t even try to charm your way out of this,— she warned, though her lips twitched with the hint of a smile.

Behind him, Max and Bankai’s laughter echoed through the headset again. —He’s so whipped,— Bankai said, cackling.

—Yeah, she’s got him on a leash,— Max added. —Tight leash.—

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t help laughing. —Alright, alright, I get it,— he said, raising his hands in defeat. —I’ll be quiet. I swear.—

Amelie eyed him suspiciously. —You better. Because if I have to come out here again, you won’t have to worry about losing in the game... you’ll have to worry about me.—

—Yes, ma’am,— he said, giving her a mock salute.

—Good.— She leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before heading back to the bedroom.

As she walked away, Lando turned his mic back on, shaking his head. —Alright, you idiots, laugh it up. But you heard her—one more yell, and I’m a dead man.—

—Mate, she’s terrifying,— Max said, still laughing. —But I get it. She’s worth it.—

Lando smiled, glancing over his shoulder toward the bedroom. —Yeah,— he said softly, his voice warm with affection. —She really is.—

And with that, he picked up his controller, determined to keep his promise...even if it meant whispering every swear word for the rest of the night.

As Amelie settled back into bed, the frustration from the earlier interruption still simmering beneath her skin, she could hear Lando mumbling something through the walls. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore it, but it was like the volume had been turned up again.

—Oh, for the love of—!— she muttered under her breath.

She couldn’t take it anymore. Her patience had been tried twice now, and this time, there was no holding back. With a dramatic sigh, she threw the covers off, making sure not to trip over her legs as she stormed out of the bedroom for the third time.

The hallway was silent as she made her way to the living room, each step faster and more deliberate. She could hear the faintest buzz of the game’s action, but no voices yet. Good. Maybe she’d catch him before he had the chance to yell again.

Amelie reached the living room and saw him, just like before—slouched against the couch, headset securely on, controller gripped firmly in his hands. But this time, there was a fire in her chest. This time, she wasn’t going to hold back.

She watched as Lando’s character on the screen narrowly avoided a barrage of gunfire.

—MAX, MOVE, FOR FUCK’S SAKE!— Lando shouted again, his voice rising to a near-scream.

Amelie didn’t wait. She stepped forward, hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing into a glare that could have melted steel.

—Lando!— she snapped, her voice sharp with authority, and a little bit of anger.

He froze, his body stiffening as he turned slowly. The headset still hung loosely around his neck. His eyes widened at the sight of her standing there, wearing one of his oversized McLaren shirts, a pair of tight shorts that left little to the imagination, and her hair messily tousled from sleep. Even with her irritation radiating off of her, she still looked absolutely irresistible, a contradiction of fire and softness.

He turned around slowly, now standing with his controller lowered, his eyes widening as he saw her standing there with hands on her hips. His friends were still laughing on the other side of his mic, but Lando could tell this time wasn’t like the others.

She stood there, unamused, in one of his McLaren shirts—way too big for her but perfectly showing off her curves—and those long, tanned legs of hers that he swore could make anyone forget their name.

—Ames, I swear I wasn’t being loud anymore,— he tried, raising his hands in defense, but she was having none of it.

—You think you’re being quiet?— She walked into the living room with a fire in her eyes that could melt steel. —Lando, it’s almost 3AM, and you’re yelling like you’re in a fucking stadium. I told you once already, keep it down! Why do I have to repeat myself for you to listen?—

Lando stood frozen, a mix of guilt and admiration in his expression. Behind him, Max and Bankai’s laughter could still be heard through the mic, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

—Yeah, mate, you’re so screwed,— Max joked, his voice bubbling with laughter.

—Baby, I didn’t mean to wake you, I swear,— he said softly, a hint of charm creeping into his voice as he took a step towards her.

She wasn’t done yet, though. She jabbed a finger into his chest. —You’ve been doing this for hours, Lando. I’m trying to sleep, and I’m not the only one here! Why are you yelling like that at this time? It’s not cute! It’s obnoxious!—

He opened his mouth to apologize again, but she wasn’t finished.

—And you’re lucky I’m not tossing your controller into the fucking ocean right now, because I swear, I will do it next time. You think you can keep doing this every night we’re here?—

Her words were clipped, sharp, and the frustration in her tone was unmistakable. He could tell she wasn’t playing anymore.

His friends burst into laughter, clearly entertained by the scene unfolding.

—Lando’s got his work cut out for him now, mate,— Bankai said, his voice still full of amusement.

Lando, however, just stood there, watching Amelie with a fond grin. Damn, she looked even hotter when she was pissed. He couldn't help but admire the fire in her—her passion, her fierceness—it made him feel alive, like he could take on the world if she was by his side.

And despite the heat of the argument, he could feel his pulse quicken, realizing that there was a part of him that loved when she challenged him like this.

—Alright, alright, I get it. I’m sorry. No more yelling. I’ll be quieter,— he said, holding up his hands, trying to calm the storm that was brewing in front of him.

She raised an eyebrow, still not convinced.

—You better be,— she warned, stepping back to give him room.

As she turned around to leave, Lando couldn’t resist. He grabbed her arm gently, stopping her before she could head back to their bedroom.

—Ames, c’mon, don’t be mad at me,— he said in a softer tone, trying to be the sweet Lando she loved.

Amelie shot him a look over her shoulder, her frustration still evident, but as she met his eyes, she could see that familiar mischievous glint. He wasn’t sorry in the way he should be. No, he was using that charming side of him that always made her melt.

—Don’t you try to charm me now,— she said, raising her voice just slightly.

But he was already closing the distance between them.

—You’re cute when you’re angry, y’know that?— Lando said softly, his voice teasing as he cupped her face in his hands.

Her breath caught for a moment as she felt the warmth of his touch. He had this way of making her forget why she was mad at him in the first place.

—Don’t you dare—

Before she could finish, Lando leaned down, pressing his lips to her neck, and she let out a sharp inhale, instantly feeling the tension between them shift.

Lando’s lips were warm, his breath hot against her skin as he kissed her neck with purpose, his hands sliding down to her waist, pulling her closer.

—You’re mad, but I can fix that,— he murmured against her skin, his voice low and enticing.

Amelie couldn’t help but let out a small moan, her anger slowly fading as he kissed her in all the right places. She placed her hands on his chest to push him away, but she found herself not wanting to.

—Lan...— she whispered, her voice shaky as she leaned into him, her pulse racing.

He looked at her with a grin that melted her heart. —I’ll make it up to you, baby. I swear. Just... don’t be mad.—

She opened her mouth to respond but found herself without words as he kissed her again, his lips softer this time, gentle and reassuring.

Max and Bankai’s voices were faint in the background, but they had long stopped laughing, knowing full well what was happening now.

—He’s gonna get us killed with how whipped he is,— Max commented, shaking his head in amusement.

—Yeah, man, but if he’s getting any, I’d call it worth it,— Bankai added with a laugh.

Amelie finally pulled back, rolling her eyes at the situation.

—You better make it up to me, Lando. And next time, if you wake me up like that again, I swear...— she trailed off, still a little annoyed but too swept up in the heat of the moment to care anymore.

—Next time, I’ll make sure you’re the only one awake,— he teased, his grin broadening.

And with that, he pulled her toward the bedroom, where the game of cat and mouse—at least for tonight—would end on a much sweeter note than the one it had begun with.

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futfemfantasies · 1 year ago

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Communication issues \\ alexia putellas x reader

As promised, the first fic from the poll. Next fic coming shortly… enjoy!! :)

You find out via Alba, Alexia’s sister. Thankfully, your family understands why you have to leave halfway through Christmas day in Australia. Alexia knew she needed surgery for her knee to figure out why it was still painful but the question is, when is the surgery going to happen. Apparently tomorrow, Spanish time, is when. With your bag packed and the farewells beginning, the departure back to Barcelona begins, a week earlier than planned. One of your sisters offered to drive you to the airport and made you promise to text her when you arrive, regardless of the time. With a quick hug as the Australian he becomes unbearable, the airport doors lead you to Spain. With Alba agreeing to pick you up, the long flight and stopovers begins. From Dubai, sleep immediately hit to like a brick.

Next thing you know, one of the flight attendants has woken you up for landing. Putting the seat up, the view at your window is breathtaking. The plane lands and you go through the process of getting off, customs and collecting luggage. Cold winter air greets you as you walk through the airport, making you regret a warmer hoodie. Spotting the younger Putellas sibling is easy in her vibrant clothing and you give her a tight hug before moving towards the car. You notice Eli sitting in the front when you move to the back. Greeting the older woman, she immediately apologises for Alexia's lack of communication.

"Don't apologise for Ale mama. She's an idiota for not telling her girlfriend when her surgery is, while her girlfriend is halfway around the world" Alba states, earning is hard slap on the arm from Eli.

You quickly text your sister and she replied with a thumbs up emoji, must be late back home you think. Alba pulls up to the hospital and you all move inside quickly as Alexia would've woken up not long ago. You pass by a gift shop and buy a bear and some flowers before seeing your girlfriend of 4 years. As you all go into Alexia's room, your eyes meet hers and Alexia gives you a soft smile. Eli and Alba give each other a look and decide to give you both a minute. You place the bear of flowers on the table and sit next to her on the chair.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you" Alexia apologises as she grabs your hand and kisses it.

"Why didn't you? You know I would've stayed with you"

"I know you missed your family and being home, I didn't want to ruin that for you" Alexia softly says, making you melt at the thought.

"Oh baby, you do know that wherever you are is home, right?" Alexia pulls you forward until your lips are on hers.

"Te amo princesa"

"Te amo mi amor. I think you owe my mum a Christmas since I left in the middle of lunch"

"Bebita you did not!" Alexia gasps and hits your arm lightly.

"My girl needed me" you shrug.

Alexia moves over in her bed and pats the spare space next to her, a silent way to tell you she wants cuddles. You cuddle up to Alexia in the small space and she kisses your forehead multiple times.

"Sleep baby, I'll make this up to you. I promise"

And Alexia keep her promises. Around 11 months later when family start organising Christmas, Alexia discussed with her mum that you need to go home and visit your family. After what happened last year, Alexia has to jump at the chance. She organised everything with your sisters and now the final part, telling you.

One cold morning, you roll over to be met with Alexia's sleeping form. She tightens her arm on you as you move closer to give her a kiss. Alexia slowly opens her eyes and smiles at the beauty she sees first thing in the morning.

"Good morning bebita, how you sleep?" Alexia asks sitting up slightly.

"Well since I'm next to you"

"I have a surprise for you. Wait here"

Alexia jumps out of bed, nearly tripping, and runs to your shared closet. She comes back with a smile on her face, extra spring in her step, and an envelope. Alexia wordlessly hands you the envelope and you open it to see printed plane tickets. You read the dates and location and your eyes start watering.

"Ale I - I told you last year in the hospital that I would make it up to you and I am"

You straddle Alexia's lap and kiss her passionately. You both pull away and you cup her cheeks, grazing them softly with the pads of your thumbs.

"I'm going to marry you one day" Alexia whispers, causing a wide smile on both of your faces.

"I want nothing more my love"

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

liked by alexiaputellas, stephcatley, samanthakerr20, albaps and 123,456 others

y/ny/l/n: a fairytale come true. the easiest yes I’ve ever made 😍💍 te amo mi amor. No puedo esperar por el próximo capítulo de nuestras vidas juntos ✨😘

Translation: (I love you my love. I can’t wait for the next chapter in our lives together)

view all 15,876 comments…

alexiaputellas: I love you princesa ❤️ let’s start our new chapter 🤩

↪️ y/ny/l/n: mi casa 🩷

samanthakerr20: oooooh Spanish wedding 😮‍💨

↪️ samanthakerr20: super excited for you dude, married life rules! 🤘

↪️↪️ y/ny/l/n: love you long time Sammy 🫶

stephcatley: @ caitlinfoord she’s all grown up 🥹😭😕

↪️ y/ny/l/n: im a year younger than you steffy, stfu 🙄

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

y/ny/l/n posted on their story

alexiaputellas posted on their story

#womens soccer #woso soccer #woso x reader #matildas #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #woso fanfics

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w2soneshots · 10 months ago

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Toddler -W2S

words: 0.7k+

warnings: none.

summary: you and Harry enjoy a holiday in Dubai with your toddler.

notes: Currently got major baby fever so here's some dad bog content🤭. Enjoy!💓

Liked by wroetoshaw and 1,017,349 others

y/username: living the dream☀️🌊 @wroetoshaw

-comments-

gkbarry_: you look incredible get in my bed

-> y/username: 🛏️🏃‍♀️

faithloisak: enjoy my lovelys🫶🏼

taliamar: cutest family ever!🥹💗

y/nfanpage21: I love this sm

user2104853: the third photo is adorable🩵

Over a year and a half ago me and Harry welcomed our little boy into the world. So far it's been incredible and I've enjoyed every minute of being his mum, even through the tough parts his little smile would make the hardships completely disappear in an instant. Harry is also an amazing dad, it's like he was born for the role. A few months ago Harry surprised me with a week long trip to Dubai, and what is our first holiday as a family of three. I was extremely excited and almost immediately called Faith to get advice on what I should pack for Ollie, which is what we ended up naming him.

We arrived two days ago and are already having the best time. Yesterday we spent all day at the beach then went for a nice dinner, in which Ollie slept in his buggy the entire time. Today we're going to the Dubai aquarium, getting some lunch and going shopping. I woke up to the sound of giggling, I pried myself from Harry's grasp and reached forward to grab the smiling baby from his travel cot. I placed him between me and Harry in the bed then drifted back off to sleep. I woke up an hour later, reached over to the nightstand and grabbed my phone to see a message from Harry saying he'd gone out to grab some breakfast from downstairs. I got up and took a picture of Ollie surrounded by the white fluffy bed sheets.

y/username just posted a new story!

I quickly got dressed while Ollie slept and Harry soon came back with breakfast. When we were all ready we left the hotel to head to the aquarium. We rented a car the first day we arrived, since Ollie has to sit in a car seat plus we'll be spending much less on Ubers. I drove (since Harry despises driving) and we were soon parked outside.

Harry pulled the exited toddler from his seat, and we headed inside. Ollie seemed to be absolutely mesmerised by the sea creatures (especially the 'big scary sharks'). When we'd walked around the entire aquarium we left to go get some lunch since we were all hungry and Ollie was getting quite restless and in desperate need of a nap. We went back to the car to grab the buggy from the boot then walked to one of the nearby restaurants.

We sat down to eat our lunch as Ollie soundly slept. As me and Harry finished up our food Ollie woke up, now full of energy and hungry. We'd ordered him some plain chips so he ate them along with some fresh fruit. Which they seem to have lots of here, probably because of the hot weather.

Then we paid and made our way to Dubai mall, which thankfully has air conditioning. I happily looked through some shops while Harry followed me with the buggy. "Almost done?" Harry asked, very clearly bored. I turned around and shook my head jokingly "almost." I said with a smile. "M- mummy?" Ollie babbled. "Yes baby?" I replied squatting down in front of him. "I wanna go- the pool." He smiled. Harry chuckled and I glanced up at him "ok, let's go." I said and a look of pure excitement spread across his face.

Liked by wroetoshaw and 719,238 others

y/username: my toddlers new fixation: sharks😂🤍

-comments-

tobjizzle: looks like so much fun! Hope you're having a great time guys❤️

-> y/username: we are ty uncle jizzle💞

faithloisak: so stinking cute🥺

y/nfanpage21: the mum fits are👌🏼

user50172932: those burgers omfg

When we arrived back at the hotel we got straight into our swimming costumes and headed down to the pool. We found some deck chairs and put our things down, then (after smothering Ollie in suncream) all three of us got into the pool.

y/username just posted a new story!

Later... "I'm so lucky." Harry whispered, as we lay in bed and Ollie lightly snored in his cot. I smiled "you're so cute." He pulled me into a sweet kiss "I mean it, I'm so lucky to have you and Ol, I love you both so much." "And we’re so lucky to have you Haz."

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usaguisenpaisblog · 15 days ago

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Being Daniel Molloy's assistant

° Genre: headcanon

° Other tags: gn!reader, spoilers from the season 2

|| Sorry if something is wrong, english is not my first language||

° Daniel Molloy was a complicated person - a fact that he himself recognizes and admits out loud. "Probably because of the age", he would justify, but his sarcastic spirit, his sharp tongue and mind, the lack of any sense of self-preservation along with the fact that he was surly and more tired than when he was younger, made him a difficult person to work.

° The young writers, reporters or journalists who came to him were, for the most part, fans of his work. Boys and girls with a romantic view of their chosen profession, hungry for advice from a veteran in the field, but all they would receive from Daniel Molloy would be a sarcastic comment loaded with a certain truth that would make them offended enough to leave. him in peace and maybe give up on that hole they were digging themselves into.

° And then you came along: a college student in your final years of journalism school who had the audacity to approach him on a random Tuesday at his favorite café. He laughed at you, of course. He found it funny how well-dressed you were with a resume in hands, looking ready to run or fight if necessary. Without a filter or without showing any weakness in the face of Molloy's comments, the eldest had great interest in the youngest's obstinate stance. Reading one of your published articles, Daniel gave in and recognized your talent in writing, deciding to hire you as his assistant.

° The job itself was relatively simple and paid a fair amount, consisting of the task of reviewing some things Daniel hoped to publish, transcribing some interviews, and making sure grandpa took his medicine.

"Mr. Molloy, have you taken your medicine? It's already 3 o'clock"

"Blow me"

"Mr Molloy..."

"Eat my ass"

"Daniel."

(He took the medicine after receiving a serious look from you, along with a low curse).

° When the invitation for the trip to Dubai arrived, Daniel didn't want you with him for fear of what the consequences of a single wrong question asked - flashback to the 70s - could be and how it could affect you, but, once again, you surprised him, showing up on boarding day with a suitcase, a handbag and a laptop in hand, waiting for Molloy to board.

° Louis was waiting for you two, unsurprisingly, a serene smile welcoming you both to his ridiculously expensive residence in Dubai. "Welcome to my home, dear [L/N] and Daniel."

° Truth be told, all the vampire talk didn't go down in the first instance. A part of you thought that perhaps Daniel had finally lost his lucidity and was giving a crazy man an opportunity to tell his delusions, but as you watched Louis de Ponte Du Lac drain a live fox during dinner, you began to wonder what type of situation was you being involved.

° During your stay there (during the events of Season 1), your job was largely the same. When Molloy finally rested, you reviewed your own notes, did some research for Daniel, and transcribed Louis' reports.

° The fake Rashid was always around, occasionally bringing you coffee - and watching over your shoulder the article you were writing. "Can I get you something more?" He asked with those dark deer eyes. "No, thank you, darling" You would respond with a soft smile before going back to what you were doing. There was something suspicious about him, your instincts would tell you. The doe eyes were soft and almost innocent, but there was something wrong there, you just couldn't tell.

° The (sexual) tension was high whenever Louis decided to feed on Rashid during dinner. You and Daniel looked at the scene with a certain curiosity, even though you admired something that you couldn't say yourself. Something inherent in human beings watching something violent so closely. The deer surrendering to the lion with such submission that it enchanted the surrounding animals.

° "What are your thoughts about them?" Mr. Molloy would ask after another end of the interview session, both of you sitting in the room while organizing some documents.

"The twink and Louis?"

"Whatever you want to call"

"Something is definitely wrong. He's hiding something. The way he seems so devoted to Louis, yet prays for another God...that's odd, do you know? I have a feeling that Louis knows about this, but is playing too."

"Do you have a feeling?" Daniel laughed

"The same feeling that I have that you think that's odd too"

Bingo, the old man thought the same.

"Do you think they fuck?" The oldest would ask, sipping his martine.

"You should ask him that. 'Hey, mr. Du Lac, I know you're almost crying because of the memories of you old abusive lover, but the readers would love to know: do you and Rashid had or have sex?' Bet he would love to hear you asking that."

° Reading Claudia's diaries in the silence of the morning while Mr Molloy rested was something almost sacred while silence reigned in that expensive apartment. The passing of the weathered pages was a low sound, taking care not to tear or damage the vampire girl's memories. While the birds sang outside and his pen scribbled notes in his own notebook, Louis would occasionally talk privately with you, curious to know more about Daniel Molloy's sharp-tongued assistant.

° "Tell me, [Name], did Daniel tell you about what happened in the 70s?" He would ask, crossing his legs in a ridiculously elegant way.

"He usually doesn't tell me about his gay nights in the 70's, it's on our contract, you know?" You said without looking at him, too focused on the research you were doing.

° Lestat de Lioncourt was a figure apart from the narrative. Always very charming, talented and dramatic, the French vampire was like a ghost of his own stereotype, sometimes meeting expectations, sometimes making strange decisions that didn't even seem like him. Something is strange, your mind would say.

° Suddenly, Rashid became the vampire Armand, a little bitch with an attitude who loved to look at you and Daniel as if he knew something you didn't. He was more charming with those golden eyes, but there was something that screamed red flag when it came to his memories in Paris.

° "You know I can read your thoughts, right?" He approached you one night while you were smoking outside your apartment.

"And?"

"You should be careful with them" Armand slowly approached you in a clear attempt at intimidation "I don't want you giving your simple and shallow opinion about things that you don't understand."

"....I didn't say anything"

"Yet."

Red (yet beautiful) flag.

° Armand and Louis were a show of defense and explanations when they decided (in a theatrical way) to join forces and face Daniel and you. The oldest wanted to laugh most of the time, just like you, but you held back.

° Ah, but then the truth was revealed and the couple, together for 77 years, separated - the final act of the rigorous and dangerous investigation that Daniel carried out during those days there. Armand had a murderous look at humans, but he didn't move a single muscle as he tried - in vain - to calm down or explain himself to Louis.

° He turned them into vampires, of course, more out of revenge than for any plausible reason. The vampire life wasn't a burden - yet - as Daniel Molloy felt more alive than ever as he hunted men and women at night, while you had another pre-assigned mission: finding the vampire Lestat de Lioncourt.

° You just wanted a conversation. An interview.

#interview with a vampire x reader #headcanons #interview with the vampire #daniel molloy x reader #armand x reader

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vax-merstappen · 11 months ago

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on vacation with the f1 boys ✈️

i love to travel so this is just me being self indulgent lol. also disclaimer i know some of the pictures are not from the country i said the vacation is in, bear with me lol. hope you enjoy and drop me any pref requests you might have!

Lando Norris

Destination: Finland

Lando always went on a ski trip with his friends during the winter break and this year he invited you to go along. You started on the easier slopes, as you both had to get the hang of skiing again, but by the end of the day you were tackling some of the more difficult ones along with your group of friends. Afterwards, the group settled down in the ski lodge with cups of hot chocolate around a crackling fire. You all spent a few hours joking around and catching up after not having all been together for a while. To finish off the day, you and Lando went alone to the sauna where you had the chance to decompress together before heading to bed. All in all, the day was well spent and you asked Lando when you would be able to come back even though you knew the answer would be next year.

Oscar Piastri

Destination: New Zealand

During the winter break, you and Oscar did not want to travel too far from his home in Australia, so you decided to go to the nearby country of New Zealand. Both of you loved staying at the beach and so you decided to spend most of your days at the scenic shores of the country. After having a relaxing time at the beach, you decided to tour the country’s mountains together and to take in the beautiful views. A personal highlight for you is a romantic dinner with Oscar in the stunning city of Queenstown. All in all, it is a relaxing trip far from the pressures of racing that brings the two of you unforgettable memories.

Max Verstappen

Destination: Italy

For Max, a vacation was any time he could spend completely away from racing with you and his friends. So, instead of traveling far away from his apartment in Monaco, he wasted no time in going on a boating trip with all his favorite people along the Italian coast. You both spent days lounging on the deck together and nights drinking with the group at the yacht’s bar. The sea made for a perfect getaway from Max’s fast paced life and you could not be happier to get some time with your boyfriend in such a scenic place. Relaxing in the waves truly made for a great time.

Charles Leclerc

Destination: Los Angeles

Your favorite place to visit together was definitely LA. You both had friends who lived there so it only made sense to take a trip there when you both were free. You spent the days on the beach with him, either surfing if the waves were nice or simply sunbathing otherwise. Charles also convinced you to go on the most extreme rides at all of the amusement parks, giving you an adrenaline rush that kept you wanting more. So many laughs were had with each of your friends, especially when Charles insisted on winning you a giant Ferrari colored banana plush at the arcade. You had no idea where you would find space for it in your apartment, but you knew you would cherish the memories it brought to mind.

Carlos Sainz

Destination: Miami

To Carlos, it would not be a good vacation without some golf. So, you both decided to head to Miami where you could find the best of what both of you loved doing, golf and relaxing on the beach. While Carlos golfed in the mornings, you relaxed on the beachfront balcony of the house you were staying in. And during the afternoons, you would both head to the beach to relax in the sand and waves. One morning you decided to spice things up and have Carlos try to teach you to golf, but after accidentally hitting the ball into someone else’s golf cart, you quickly scrapped that idea. Your favorite memory of the trip was definitely the day you spent completely together on a snorkeling trip to see a nearby coral reef.

Lewis Hamilton

Destination: Dubai

When Lewis wasn’t racing, he still loved to be doing something adventurous. Lucky for him, you shared his love of an adrenaline rush. So the perfect destination was Dubai. Every day was filled with excitement, from riding ATVs though the desert to eating at luxurious restaurants in the city. Lewis even convinced you to go skydiving with him at the end of your trip which was an experience you knew you would never forget. There was never a dull moment when you and Lewis traveled together and you knew that once this vacation ended, you would already be planning for another.

Daniel Ricciardo

Destination: Austin

Everyone knew one of Daniel’s favorite places was Austin, Texas. So when he had a week off after the race in Texas, Daniel of course convinced you to stay with him on vacation there for the next few days. He took you to his favorite bars and barbecue restaurants to savor the food. He also took you to a ranch where you got to ride horses through the American countryside. On the last day of the trip, the two of you decided to go to a country music concert and dance the night away. Both of you loved music and so this was the perfect memory to end what was a great few days of exploring the Texan landscape. And of course you had to get a souvenir cowboy hat to remember the trip by.

Yuki Tsunoda

Destination: Mexico

As you and Yuki are both foodies, you decided to go to a place with one of your favorite cuisines, Mexico. You arranged to travel throughout the country to try different foods from various regions. Between meals, you would spend time seeing some of Mexico’s most scenic beaches and visiting some of the tourist destinations like Chichen Itza. The best part, however, was getting to spend so much uninterrupted time with your boyfriend who was always away from home. Though you knew Yuki lived the fast life, all you wanted to do with him was relax. And what better place to do it than in such a warm and beautiful country. As for your favorite food you tried? There were too many good dishes to choose!

Alex Albon

Destination: Phuket

Alex was thrilled when you agreed to go to the country he raced for. When you got there, he excitedly showed you around all of the sights and took you to eat his favorite local food. After a few days of frantically touring Alex’s favorite places, you both decided that it wasn’t truly a vacation unless you relaxed a little bit. So, you spent the rest of the week at the beach in each other’s arms, just savoring the other’s company. There were a few splash fights in the pool and the time where you jokingly pushed Alex off of the boat, but otherwise you spent your time relaxing on the sand. Thai sunsets were truly like no other and you knew you would savor your memories for years to come.

Logan Sargeant

Destination: USA

When you realized that Logan hadn’t traveled much around his own country outside of Florida, you immediately decided that you were going on a road trip to fix that. The plan was that you would go up the east coast, stopping in all of the major cities to see the sights. From Carolina beaches to the nation’s capital, there were surely a lot of things to do. And when you had a boyfriend who drove cars for a living, of course you got to the be the passenger princess. Every time a road sign showed something that sounded cool, you insisted that you stop. Your personal favorite destination was New York, where you got to show Logan a lot of the famous landmarks that everybody would recognize. Once you hit Boston, you decided to head back south to his home state and warmer weather. You would cherish these memories forever.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 preference #f1 fandom #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader #alex albon x reader #logan sargeant x reader

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alienpossession · 7 months ago

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Another take from my end on the continuation of this much-beloved story, this time solely focusing on Andrei & Mike as they meet the ill-fated Steven from the original series by @apushforfolly

Bodybuilding is a rather tight-knit global community. The people you competed back in Las Vegas would be your competitor again in Dubai, in London, yeah, you get the gist of it. So while the Prince is busy consolidating domestic power, what the Prince directed the rest of us to do is to basically get our grip within the bodybuilding community and the ever-growing and increasingly cocky finance bros as stealthy as possible. Sander handled the finance and all those podcast bros flocking to Dubai. Meanwhile, me and Mike are quite influential within the UK bodybuilding circles, and with us based in Dubai, we did leverage that to our benefit as we lured some of the aspiring talent and even several of our old friends for a free Dubai trip which would lead to the end of their life as freedom human entity. Take Rory over here, quite a rather close friend of Andrei before the Prince and then I took this British-Romanian hunk for a spin

Rory eagerly took the offer to rekindle the friendship that just severed out of a sudden as he based himself in Bali while Andrei got his mind fucked by me as I hyper-focused myself to serve the Master and enlarge his influence. I didn't like to waste my time so within the first day he landed, right after I showed him and his girlfriend around their apartment I said to be free of charge as it was still in the market anyway, I simply bitchslapped him until he passed out and then proceeded to infect his girl first, taking the delight of Andrei's fucked up mind that held grudges to Rory for stealing his first crush, her. She cried, obviously, and even harder when she could feel that something terrible is coming with my cock that somehow enlarged beyond her comprehension, because it almost doubled in length and clearly that's not normal and she knows that. As my contained sludgebros released like a damn broken faucet into her throat, her eyes rolled to the back as black sludge overflown her mouth. But she's quick to regain her consciousness and with her mind set to infect her passed out boyfriend, I simply put my sweatpants back on and left the two lovebirds to settle their business.

That's basically one example of our MO, but it's the most effective because these bodybuilders really trust each other, especially when they came from the same country. And when we reached more bodies, it means we have more field operatives to take care off potential puppets. For example, Nico, like Andrei, is Romanian, and he's been out from the spotlight for a while. But, his physique is still great and he's considered a legend among the younger bodybuilders. So, of course I utilized his eagerness to learn a thing or two to become relevant from Andrei as my entry into his tight straight cunt and basically turned him into a puppet.

The legend status he holds gives him easier access to reach the coaches and the more senior bodybuilders, not even a week and he's already turning Jerome Weeks into a puppet too, just look at that wide, slightly off-putting smile the two of them did, if people paid attention a bit more, clearly they can tell that something is a bit not right there

There's also this easily leveraged dynamic of leeching off each other or trying to be in the more influential person's good light, and Mike really milked the shit out of it. He's charismatic, he's also probably the most well-off among the others and you just don't want to mess with him as he can legitimately messed with your influencer career if you crossed him.

Olly and his older stepbrother Craig bumped to Rory and Mike in the middle of a gym, and of course they asked Mike and Rory for a quick pic. The two brothers already planned to utilize the picture for some clout but they are also legitimately looked up to Mike especially, hence the slightly tense pictures despite multiple takes.

What the two humans failed to realize was the fact that both Rory and Mike licked their lips as they watched the siblings walked giddily to the locker room after the pic sesh. They grinned to each other and decided to join the two brothers in the locker room to have some "pep talk". While Rory handled Craig, Mike sauntered the impressionable 20 years old blondie. At first excited to see his idol and tried to respectfully stand up, Olly found himself taken aback as Mike instead pressed Olly back to the seat and then smirked

"I see the potential from you, dude. You can be a jacked piece of shit in no time and fucking popular too. All you neeed to do is open up that mouth, I know you blondie want a piece of this meat,"

Bewildered, Olly tried to fight back but Mike asserted his dominance in a split second as Olly found himself unable to even stand up as Mike held his shoulder and forced him to stay seated

"Don't force me to use my strength, noob. Now, as I said before, you have the potential, just open up that pretty mouth and let me show you how to get big," Mike said with a shit-eating grin so uncharacteristic of him. His crotch just inches away from Olly's quivering lips, and from Olly's POV, he meant every single words he said. Olly still resisted, he tried to scream for help but Mike's hand quickly muffled his mouth, blocking him to even let out a sound. He simply wished that anyone will walk in and caught Mike red-handed, but it seems like it's not goint to happen anytime soon. Unfortunately for him, as his eyes wandered looking for any good samaritan that can help him out of this predicament, his eyes caught a bizarre sight as his married stepbrother bobbed his head up and down Rory's dick like a cum whore! Mike gleefuly said with sinister undertone

"Yeah, even your older brother knows it's the right thing to do. Heck, it's the only way to get big nowadays. It's time for you to also start accepting that as the truth. Now, I won't repeat myself again, open,"

Seeing the tight-lipped Olly, Mike then take the liberty to simply fish out his cock out from his workout shorts, revealing a mean-looking 7.5 incher semi-hard uncut meat throbbing with excitement. He's been going commando since this morning, and the tough workout regiment clearly caused him to accumulate quite some sweat in his crotch. Mike just grazed the tip of his meat right to Olly's pink lips before the young sophomore jock relented to the pressure. His throat felt sticky and sore from all the thrusting, but he found out that he got no gag reflex whatsoever which caused Mike to grin in the first few seconds after the entirety of his cock lodged into Olly's throat

"Ohhh fffuuuckkk you really meant to be a cocksucker bro!"

The whole facefucking lasted for about 6 minutes before Mike started to get tight and exasperated. When Rory and Craig circled around Olly, that's when Olly realized that something is not right when his stepbrother's eyes looking a bit empty and glazed. But not long from both Rory and Craig sauntered the both of them, Mike shot his copious load into the trembling Olly, his body went on a full seizure as the slug takes over his bodily system. Olly eventually regained his consciousness and the first thing he do is to cough out the sticky mess that filled his mouth when he passed out and replaced by an alien slug. He then smiled a very wicked smile

"Now, can I infect other human on my own?"

"Hahahahahah, love the spirit, but not so quick bro, not so quick,"

----

So when Steven Barnett, a bodybuilder with Mining Engineering degree, arrived in Dubai for an all-inclusive honeymoon after marrying his girlfriend for 3 years which also happened to be the daughter of a US Army General, the gym junkie decided to squeeze in several workout session since he knows some of his favorite bodybuilders are based in Dubai. Unfortunately for him, the Prince intel already put a target behind his back the moment he booked a flight to Dubai with his now-wife.

The penthouse arranged by Andrei, the tour around town with Rory, the workout sesh with Mike and Olly, everything is simply part of the plan to ensure that Steven is well-monitored 24/7 throughout his stay. The Prince believed that it's time for him to make another move after consolidating the power in Dubai, and America sounded like a solid plan. So, when Steven walked into one of the last gym that has been recommended by a lot of his online followers, it's already a trap ready to capture him to become yet another puppet in the growing collection of the Master. He's just simply oblivious to the fact that he posed with puppets controlled by mere black slug that looked like a pitch black oil he found in his day job.

#alien possession #male possession #alien takeover #alien expansion #alien transference #male puppet #male takeover #apushforfolly #dubai alien

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theragethatisdesire · 2 years ago

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"nel bene e nel male" - eren x reader, 18+!!!

i have several other wips working right now but i fell in love with the "ti penso" universe so i wanted to follow this eren x reader a little further down the road. i wouldn't call it a series but....i love them. this is from eren's pov, so we get to see how he thinks of reader, their relationship, etc. and it was SO fun to get in his head. i love ti penso eren sm and he's adorable, so i hope u guys like this one as much as the last!

pairing: eren x afab!reader

wc: 4.8k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut (duh), knife (not in a sexual way like a cooking way bu still), consensual hook-up, established relationship, unprotected sex, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving) penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby), crying, cheating (don't worry it's a trick), multiple orgasm, creampie, aftercare, eren being a nervous wreck

title means "for better or for worse" in italian i LOVE these two mwah xxxx

Eren isn’t really a middle-ground kind of guy. The world’s black and white the way he sees it, so he either loves something, or he hates it. He hates the soreness settling in his bones, loves seeing the familiar city lights again after the last few days.

He’s been in Dubai on business this week; loved the food, hated his hotel room, loved the locals, hated the plane ride, and while the loves outweighed the hates enough to make the trip great, it didn’t compare to what was waiting for him in New York. Eren’s fortunate enough to be coming home to a little slice of his own personal heaven, ready to open his apartment door to find you in his favorite position: wearing one of his old t-shirts, snuggled up on the couch, reading if he had to put money on it. Maybe he’ll get lucky, and you’ll be cooking. God, he’s so sick of hotel food and airport food he could cry.

In the elevator, sliding up through the building to the seventy-first floor, he gets a rush of elation at the familiarity of it all. He studies the mirrored wall, smirking to himself when the memory of him pressing you against it, two fingers deep in you, surfaces. That’s something else he loves: unraveling you where someone could see, watching how flustered you get. Eren’s first order of business, he decides, is to shower. His second order of business will be to bury himself between your legs: cock, face, fingers, whatever you prefer. He’s feeling generous and homesick.

The smell of garlic and oil hits his nose when he opens the door; Eren has to bite back a groan. After Ymir and Historia’s wedding, you two developed a bit of a love affair with Italy, and had returned enough times for you to master the cuisine. Italian food now reminds him of you, of that first indulgence in years against the wall of his villa apartment, and his legs nearly buckle at the sensation of it all.

“Missed you.” Your back is to him when he ambles into the kitchen, cutting tomatoes, so he settles for pressing himself up against your back, cradling your hips in his hands. Your little sleep shorts rub against his crotch, and Eren hopes he has the willpower to at least make it through dinner without tearing you open.

“Mm,” you hum noncommittally, letting him grope you. Eren frowns into your hair; that wasn’t exactly the enthusiastic welcome he was expecting.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” you shrug. He peeks around your shoulder; your cheeks are wet.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Eren grabs your shoulders and turns you to face him. When he recognizes the look in your eyes, he almost wishes he hadn’t.

When you’re angry, you shout, you cry a little, normal stuff. When you’re really angry, you’re cold. The look in your eyes tells him he’s done something very bad, a look of icy apathy, disinterest. He hasn’t seen it since you left him on the sidewalk outside of your last apartment together, before Italy, before the last two years of domestic bliss he’s enjoyed with you amidst your crazy work schedules. Eren’s heart drops to his stomach.

“Baby…”

“Who’s Anna?”

Your question nearly knocks him on his ass. He’s vaguely aware that his face must show that feeling, making him look more suspicious than he really is. How the fuck is he supposed to explain Anna without ratting on himself?

“Who?” Idiot, Eren thinks to himself. Who? is never the right question when your girlfriend asks about another woman in your life, Eren knows that by now. The pure shock has turned the sensical part of his brain off.

“Who,” you repeat, scoffing and turning back to your cooking.

Very aware that you have a knife, Eren rounds the counter so he can see you, monitor that look in your eyes while also putting some space between himself and the nine-inch blade in your right hand. “I know it sounds cliche, but it’s not what it–”

“Looks like?” You cut him off, eyes down towards the cutting board. “I’m sure the nine zoom calls I found on your personal laptop are nothing, nothing at all.”

Eren swallows, thick around the lump in his throat. He should have had his fucking assistant do this, he thinks, shouldn’t have been so picky with everything, but it was something so special, so personal, he couldn’t bring himself to ask for help. Hell, he hadn’t even told Armin and Mikasa yet.

“She sent you a very vague email, but I’m sure you’ll get the message. She said she has some ‘really special’ things picked out for you, if you missed it,” your gaze finally meets his, chilling him to the bone and boring into his very soul, “La Perla or Agent Provocateur? You’ve always preferred the Perla, but–”

“It’s nothing like that,” Eren mumbles, twitching where he stands. “I’d never cheat on you, you know that.”

“I’m sure,” a mirthless laugh slips from your pretty lips. Eren wants to cry; if only you knew, if only he could bring himself to tell you, but that would ruin the point of it. If you’d just understand– “My bags are packed either way. Booked a flight to London, too. I’ve always wanted to live there.”

Eren’s heart drops further from its tight pit in his stomach; it’s surely fallen out of his ass onto the floor now. “Bags? Baby, no, just let me exp–”

“Let you what?” Here’s your anger, refreshed and fiery in your eyes, rearing its head. Eren balks.

“Well, I– I can’t really explain, but if you just trust me…”

“Trust you? I did trust you, all the way back in Italy!” Your voice cracks at the same time as Eren’s heart. “I took a chance on you, and you fucked me. Do you remember how afraid I was to dive back into you again? And look where it fucking got me.”

Another furious, disbelieving chuckle. Eren hates that laugh, hates it so much he can feel his skin prickle. Against his better judgment, he scowls.

“You actually think I’m cheating on you? When the fuck would I even have time?”

“Is she from Stockholm? Paris? Skinny bitch from LA, maybe? You spend an awful lot of time on the go,” you hiss. Eren rolls his eyes.

“I fucking love you! You’ve never been able to get that through your thick-ass skull,” his voice is getting louder, but he can’t stop himself. If he was thinking rationally, he knew he could make you understand, but he’s not thinking rationally. Eight days of jet lag and work are catching up to him, and his temper leaps out ahead of his words.

“Well, I hope Anna does. I hope you love her, and I hope she fucks you good,” you sniffle, another hot rush of angry tears streaming down your face. Eren hates that too; can still feel the visceral pumping of his heart where it’s sitting discarded on the floor.

“She doesn’t love me,” he grits out, “and she definitely doesn’t fuck me.”

“Well yeah, I’d assume you fuck her,” you snap, chopping into a tomato furiously. Maybe it’s your tone, maybe it’s the tears, the finality in the chopping, he doesn’t have time to acknowledge what breaks something in him, but he feels it tear into two. He can’t stop himself.

“She a fucking ring designer,” he nearly shouts, hearing the cabinets rattle from the timbre of his voice, “a ring designer from Tiffany. That’s who Anna is.”

He’s hardly even aware that the words have left his mouth until he sees your reaction. Everything in your body tenses, your hand clenches down tight around the knife. Your mouth– Eren can’t help but sigh inwardly at your perfect little mouth– drops slightly ajar, the tears themselves seem to freeze where they’re rolling down your cheeks.

“A…what?”

Eren’s defeated now, and his sigh shows it. He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, not feeling any better now that he’s been forced to ruin his own surprise. “Didn’t want to tell you this way, but yeah.”

“Like, a…”

“An engagement ring designer,” Eren says quietly, barely able to force the words out. Sure, he may have solved the initial issue of his nonexistent cheating, but now he has your commitment issues to work with. His breath is lodged firmly in his throat and not a sound passes between you two. He can see the gears in your head turning, brow furrowed in concentration as you try to think through your feelings.

Ordinarily, Eren loves that look, thinks it’s so sexy how your forehead wrinkles, your tongue darting out between your teeth while you write or do your morning crossword. Now, he’s watching you with that look on your face, not able to breathe, feel, or even think.

The hesitation is setting in, panic gripping him. What was he thinking, proposing to you? You hate to be tied down, married to your work. He’s hurt you so many times; God knows it was an uphill battle just getting you to let him love you again. You’re a flighty, easily-frightened creature, but he does what he can to keep you with him, keep you as happy as he can. He lives and breathes you, doesn’t know if he would survive you leaving him again.

He couldn’t help himself, though, never could when it came to you. For years he’s been needing more, more touching you, more fucking you, more loving you. This is just that in a new sense: seeing if he just could get the right ring, make the right plan to keep you forever. He’d never admit it, but he’d even gotten hard at the thought of you wearing his ring day in and day out for the rest of your life. He couldn’t resist making you his wife, his life partner, putting his babies in you–

Eren pockets that thought as soon as it crosses his mind; now is not the time for an erection. He knows you inside and out, knows how your chest rises and falls while you sleep and has the scent of your shampoo burned into his olfactory nerves for the rest of his life, but you manage to surprise him, just this once.

A small smile toys at your mouth. “An engagement ring designer?”

Eren’s chest decompresses so violently he thinks he might pass out. “Yeah. I was thinking–”

“About proposing? You’re serious?” Your face is still puffy and wet, but the grin growing on your face is worth everything Eren could ever think to own, eyes practically glowing.

“God, of course I’m serious,” Eren rasps, the air gone from his lungs, “fuckin’ love you. I’ve wanted this since the day I met you, how do you not know that by now?”

“Are you like…” you trail off, looking meaningfully at him, then the floor. Is he proposing?

Eren doesn’t even know if he is, brain foggy after the whirlwind ten minutes that’s just gone by. A lifetime with you flashes behind his eyes: a beautiful wedding, definitely in Italy, signing the papers and buying a home together, filling it with as many curly-haired babies as you’ll give him. When Eren comes back to reality, his body’s moved without consulting him, and he’s on his knees, holding your thighs– God, your perfect thighs– in his hands. He’s fairly sure he’s supposed to just be on one knee, but he doesn’t care; he’s not asking, he’s begging.

“Yeah– fuck, I think I am,” Eren laughs at himself, breathless, “I am.”

“Oh my God,” your hands are over your mouth, holding in the wet little hiccups shaking your frame, “oh my God, you are.”

And right there, all of Eren’s anxiety melts off of his body in a clean sheathe. Looking up at you, the fresh tears welling in those beautiful eyes that turn him to putty whenever you need to, he’s sure. Even if you say no– which now, he doesn’t think you will– he has to try. He owes you that, all of himself.

“You know I love you, I– I live for you. Want you to be mine, forever. Will you have me?” Eren’s voice has a waver to it, bending and wobbling under all of his emotions. The slightest inclination of your head gives way to an excited nod, and Eren practically leaps to his feet, grabbing you around the waist and spinning you, just like a movie.

“Eren, ow– s’tight,” you giggle, wheezing in his grip.

“Can you blame me?” Eren laughs back, feeling like a child instead of a full-grown man who just made the biggest commitment of his life, but as painful as it is to release his grip, he sets you down. “You're fucking serious? You’ll really marry me?”

“Yeah,” you grin, “yeah, I’ll marry you. You better get me a big-ass rock, though.”

“I’ll get you the biggest one in the world, spend every dime I have,” he says, and you’re in his arms again, legs wrapped around his waist and arms thrown around his neck, his face might burst, “you can show it off to all your friends, show ‘em just how much I love you.”

“Oh, Eren,” you trail off, kissing him in lieu of words. Eren doesn’t think your lips have ever been so sweet against his, doesn’t think he’s ever been so hungry for your body.

He’s got the path to your bedroom memorized, especially under his current condition: wrapped up in a tangle of limbs, stumbling clumsily and desperately trying not to lose his footing as you kiss your way down his neck. A low groan rumbles in his chest as he fumbles with the knob, throws the door open, practically tackles you onto the plush bed. Eren doesn’t even care that he stinks like plane and airport and travel; the scent of you envelops him.

“Love you so fuckin’ much, baby,” he mutters offhandedly against your collarbone, pausing from the bruise he’s sucking into the skin, “now you’re all mine, forever.”

“Forever,” you agree, chest heaving beneath him. Eren makes quick work of the silky sleep set you’ve chosen, has a brief moment of clarity to think how funny it was that you picked a sexy pajama set to argue with him. He loves you, God, he’s overwhelmed with love, dizzy with it, out of his mind.

Eren mouths his way around your tits, palming with one hand and pressing the other against the small of your back, pulling you up to him. He hates the idea of space between you two. You’re his forever now, his to push and pull and kiss and bite.

“My pretty little wife,” Eren feels a grin stretch over his face, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your breast. You moan under him, music to his ears. Eren loves a lot about you, but the little simpering sounds you’re making might be his favorite.

“Like that,” it’s just a whisper above him, but it catches his attention.

“Like what? My mouth?”

“Like when you call me that.”

Eren’s grin grows wider, feral. “Call you what?”

“Eren!”

“Say it,” he slides back up to your mouth, licking into it, “want to hear it out of this pretty mouth, not mine.”

“Your wife,” you give in more quickly than he expects, warmth radiating off of your face.

“So mean to me,” he hums, giving you one last kiss before traveling down, letting his hand come down to rub insistently at your clit. He swallows a throaty groan; you’re wet, soaked even. Just for him.

“Fuck, Eren– ‘m not mean to you,” you’re pouting through the little whimpers coming out of you, eyebrows knotted on your forehead.

“You are,” Eren insists, nosing at your clit. Jesus Christ, he thinks to himself, you smell delicious. He plants a kiss on the inside of your thigh, nibbles a little at the sensitive skin. “Picking a fight with me, thinking I would ever, ever, go looking at anyone else. How could I? Already got the best pussy in the world right here.”

That earns him another long moan from you, your hands coming to his hair and shoving him insistently towards your center. He’ll make you wait, he decides, still in control enough of his faculties to engage in his favorite pastime: teasing you to the point of tears, leading you to your breaking point and shoving you up against it.

You urge him to you, still pulling on his hair. Eren, a devious grin across his face, resists, blowing cool air on you instead. You whine, hips canting at him temptingly. Eren’s willpower falters just slightly, and he gives you a quick, tentative lick up your center, earning himself a satisfied whimper.

“Need more, baby?”

“You know what I fucking need,” you grumble. Eren chuckles.

“See? Always so mean to me. Can’t have what you want when you’re mean, you know better.”

“Please,” you breathe from above him, voice urgent at his threat, “please, Eren, I can’t take it, I–”

“There you go,” he settles himself in between your legs, pulling you to his face by your hips. If Eren loves one thing in his black-and-white world, it’s having his mouth on you. It’s probably embarrassing how often he asks to sink his tongue into you, how pitifully he begs day in and day out, but he’s beyond caring. It’s well-established in your daily routine: you have your crosswords to keep you content and clear your head, and Eren has your pussy.

He’s gone eight long days without it, and he licks into you like a starved man, hell, maybe he is. Eren groans into you, echoing your own pathetic simpering.

“Can’t wait to put a ring on this pussy, my beautiful pussy,” he speaks into your folds, tickling them in a way that you evidently like, giving him a garbled agreement. Eren relishes your cunt, sucking on your clit and tickling just at the entrance to you with his tongue, working you the way he knows will have you spiraling towards your end.

Without fully realizing it, Eren’s hand is sliding down to palm himself over his pants. Before he knows it, he’s rutting into his own hand like a fucking teenager, couldn’t keep himself together with his face between your legs. Eren prides himself on his stamina, but with the heightened emotions and the week without you, that's gone right out of the window. He’s riding a little too close to the line; he desperately wants you to cum on his face, but at this rate, he’ll blow in his pants if he lets you.

Steeling every ounce of willpower he possesses, Eren pulls his face out of you, takes a deep breath. You whine, reaching for him unsuccessfully.

“Sh, I know,” Eren shushes you, chest swelling with pride at your open need, “so needy for me, aren’t you?”

“Please,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his mouth to yours.

“Gonna fuck you, okay?” You nod urgently into his shoulder, legs already hooked around his hips. Eren’s head’s spinning like it never has before, drunk on you. He manages to get half of his cock into you before he has to stop, grinding his jaw and trying to think about anything other than how your cunt’s milking him.

“Eren,” you plead, trying to urge him forward with your ankles. A deep inhale rattles practically his entire body.

“M'trying not to cum, hold on.” He’s created a monster out of you, he thinks, and maybe out of himself, too.

“I need– fuck, need to…” you slide one hand down your body, rubbing frantically at your clit. Eren’s stuck watching, watching your perfect body swell and shrink with your heavy breaths, watching you try to make yourself cum only half-full.

“Do you think you can?” His words are hardly a breath; he winces when you clench around him harder. You’ve always had trouble cumming without being full, usually finding your release with Eren buried fully inside you, nudging at your cervix. You’re always begging for more, just one more finger, want to be fucked a little harder. The fact that you need him so badly you’re willing to try, make the most out of what you have, makes his heart and his cock pound in tune. Poor thing.

“Yeah, I, I need to cum so bad, Eren, it’s– shit, so bad, I just–”

“Go ahead, do it then,” Eren firmly interrupts your babbling, a bit of a tell that you’re getting close. If anything gets you off, it’s authority. He leans down, painfully aware of the extra inch of him the new angle pushes into you, trying to focus, trying so hard not to cum yet. He takes your face roughly in his hand, forcing your heart-filled eyes to bore into his. He bares his teeth in a disbelieving, probably half-crazed grin. He loves you so much, needy little thing that you are.“Make yourself cum on me, fucking brat. Can’t even give me two seconds, can you?”

Your bottom lip trembles as you shake your head, more tears welling in your eyes. Eren can feel the quivering of your legs around him, any second now.

“Love me so much, don’t you? So impatient,” He tsks, thumbing at your lip and throwing in a couple light smacks to your cheek for good measure. “Can’t wait to be mine, can’t wait to cum, can’t wait for me to marry you and fuck you everyday, that’s it isn’t it? Gonna fuck you as much as you want baby, my perfect little wife.”

That does it; Eren has to close his eyes when you cum, cunt tightening vice-like around him, but he can feel you squirting on his lower abdomen, feel the cum practically gushing out of you. God help him. You squirm and tremble underneath him, crying out for him to fuck you. He knows you need him, need him to move, and somehow, some way, he does.

He bullies his way into you, feeling you pulse around him and growling deep in his chest. Your eyes fly open at the movement inside of you, flitting between his face and where he's rolling his hips into you.

“Yes,” you hiss, “yeah, please–”

“That’s better, right?” Eren’s in heaven, losing his grip on anything around him that’s not your pussy. “My girl needs to be full, yeah?”

“Mhm,” your eyes are rolling back into your head, drunk on the way he’s pumping in and out of you. Eren’s in awe of you; you’re such a perfect, needy creature, and now you’re all his forever. Shit, he’s not going to last, he can feel it. He slides a hand down your stomach, thrumming insistently at your clit, making you squeal.

“Fuck! Eren, I just– shit, I just came, s’too much.”

“You can cum again, right? Can't be selfish, now,” Eren huffs, stomach tightening with the signs of his impending orgasm. “I’m gonna spend all my money on your fucking ring, and you can’t even cum one more time for me?”

“Eren…” you’re whimpering, damn near crying at this point, tears streaming down your temple. He feels you clench, somehow makes himself thrust faster. Eren loves this part. He’s got you now, and he knows it.

“You say love me, now you gotta show me,” he just needs a few more seconds, come on, “if you want that ring so bad, you gotta cum for it baby.”

Your back arches so violently that had he not known better, Eren might think you’ve been shocked; your pussy squeezes the life out of him, triggers his orgasm along with you. The sound he emits is inhuman, but he’s too lost, too gone to care, shooting rope after rope of cum deep in you. He collapses mid-orgasm, clutching your convulsing body to him, some unconscious part of his brain is directing him to kiss your shoulder, bite into it, and he does. He tastes that salty sheen of your skin, eyes rolling back into his head.

Neither of you speak, just lean into each other for a minute or two. Eren’s vaguely aware of the cum leaking out from where you’re still joined. He hasn’t bothered to pull out yet; pulling out of you is on the hate list. His cock twitches painfully, though, still interested in where he’s buried so deep he can feel your heartbeat. His dick might be aching for a round two, but Eren’s pretty sure he’d knock out in the middle of things if he tried. He groans and rolls off of you, sliding out with a pang of regret.

He props himself up on a shaky elbow, tucking a few of your stray hairs behind your ear. He wants to see your face, your perfect face, sweaty and blotchy and fucked out. You grant him a sleepy smile– oh he loves that face, quickly takes a mental picture to file away.

“You good?”

“So good,” you answer, stretching your arms. “Shower?”

Eren wrinkles his nose, not entirely thrilled at the prospect of washing this gorgeous, post-sex shine off of you. Your face grows insistent. “Shower, Eren.”

“Fine,” he pouts.

“What? You stink.”

“Not that bad,” he lifts an arm, sniffs. Oof, yeah, “not that bad” indeed. He lets you lead him to the shower, waits patiently as you test the water, even lets you rub some of that scratchy body-scrub crap that you swear by all over him.

“Better, right?” You raise your voice over the high-pressure water cascading around you, grinning knowingly. Eren hates conceding, hates admitting when he’s being a bit of a brat, but God, does he love you. He smiles crookedly.

“Much better.”

“So, about before…” Eren’s heart skips a beat, his throat closes. Is this the part where you regret saying yes? Thought he was joking? He should have found a different way out. No, damn it, he should have stuck with the plan, the flowers, the sunset, the quartet– “Can I meet the ring designer?”

Oh. “Um, if you– yeah, if you want. Thought you would like it better as a surprise.”

You cock an eyebrow. “What do you know about my taste in diamonds?”

“Mm, big?”

“Well, yeah,” you giggle, “but do you know what carat I’d prefer? Cut? Setting?”

Eren blushes, frowns. So he has been doing this all wrong. Figures. “That’s what the ring designer’s for, isn’t she?”

“You can still help,” you soothe him, a soapy hand brushing over his cheek, “I’d just like a say, if you don’t mind.”

“Are you mad?” He gives a voice to the fear thudding inside of him, the insecurity clawing at his ribs. You cock your head at him, confused and cute, but even that’s not enough to make him feel better. It’s a black-and-white world, and he needs to hear you say it, perfectly clear.

“Mad? Eren, this is…the happiest day of my life. Why would I be mad?”

“Because…” he scrambles for the words, suddenly sheepish, “I had this whole thing planned for it– for you. We were gonna be on the Empire State Building with a rose wreath and singers–”

“Eren,” you cut him off, serious as he’s ever seen you, “are you actually being serious? Like, actually?”

His face is hot, God it burns with embarrassment. “I mean, sort of.”

“It was perfect,” you sense his discomfort, running a stray hand through his hair, “okay well, not perfect per se, but it was us. We aren’t…we aren’t flowers and Empire State Building people. We’re stupid fights and long distance and hot sex people. That’s our life, and I am beyond okay with that.”

All of the unease evaporates from his body. How do you always have the answer, the words he needs to hear? You’re always right. The quartet may have been a bit much, he reflects, pulling you to him.

“If you’re happy, I am,” he means it, and places a kiss to the part of your hair. You hum contentedly against him, purring against his chest.

The shower goes on as all of your showers together do: you manhandle Eren into shampoo and conditioner (hate list: burns his eyes, slimy), grab miraculously toasty towels from the warmer by the bathtub (love list: cozy), convince him to climb into bed still half-wet, limbs heavy with exhaustion (hate list: his side of the bed’s going to smell like wet dog tomorrow), throw on the Kardashians’ new show (love and hate lists: depends who's asking).

You knock out before him, unaffected by jet lag, drooling into the cavern between his pecs and making a very unflattering face that he makes sure to snap a picture of. You need an updated contact photo in his phone anyway.

He feels unusually contemplative, staring out at the big city from your own little corner of it, making a mental list of all of the people you need to call tomorrow, and what order they should go in. Eren’s world might be big sometimes as he jetsets around, might be small when he’s buried inside of you, focus narrowed on the heat pulled tight around him. It’s always one way or the other, though, and tonight, practically his entire world is laying on his chest, glowing a bright, bridal white.

- tagging @philliamwrites as u requested for my next piece! hope u love it bestie <3

#eren jaeger #aot smut #aot x reader #eren x reader #eren jeager x you #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #smut #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #i'm so in love with these two they make my heart melt #ti penso universe

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acesofspadess · 1 month ago

Text

All Roads Lead Here

Part 1 of All Roads Lead Here

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

a/n: we have sadly made it to the last race, so I decided to something big for my lovely readers. put your comments below on how you think Ace's weekend is going to unfold....

warnings: none??? not edited properly 🤷🏾‍♀️

summary: The end of the road has finally approached for the 2024 season. This weekend is a big one....

Abu Dhabi

Ace and Lando shortly after the upset that was Qatar, were on a plane headed to Abu Dhabi. This weekend was full of emotions for everyone as history was unfolding before their eyes, but the couple could also make or break history this weekend as well. The constructors' battle was too close for comfort, and one wrong move would cost it all.

Lando wanted out of Qatar at the earliest chance, and soon they found themselves in the Abu Dhabi hotel Monday evening. There wasn’t much to do that night so they decided to just go out to dinner with each other, have a relaxing date before the chaos of the weekend.

“Are you glad it’s about to be all over?” She asked him as she sipped on her drink, dinner long gone. “I think so. This season has just been so much thrown at me, and I didn’t take it very well, but I know next year will be very different.” He said confidently, and Ace had to agree.

Tuesday Lando had a meet and greet at the mall for Tumi’s new store while Ace was on winter break plans. Her and Max were planning out a ski trip for the group and needed to get some last minute things finalised. That night, the couple joined Max on stream to goof off a bit. Ace was more bullying the pair than anything. She had graduated from Bambi academy ages ago, and made sure to rub it in their faces any chance she got.

Alexandra, Rebecca, and Ace decided to spend their day off together, making the most of Dubai’s vibrant charm on Wednesday before the drivers dinner that Lewis always put together. Their adventure began at the Louvre Abu Dhabi, where they wandered through the museum’s serene halls, admiring the stunning interplay of light and art. Rebecca snapped photos of Ace and Alexandra as they marveled at the exhibits, their laughter echoing softly in the architectural wonder around them.

Next, they headed to a picturesque waterfront café for lunch, where they shared fresh mezze and sipped on cool drinks under the warm sun. The conversation was light and full of laughter, drifting from memories of past adventures to Ace’s upcoming birthday dinner.

“You are going to look incredible, right?” Alexandra teased over a bite of hummus, making Rebecca smirk in agreement.

Ace shrugged, brushing off the comment. “I have a few of my normal dresses with me. It’s no big deal really.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes, leaning forward with a grin. “Absolutely not. We’re finding you something stunning. Let’s make this a proper birthday celebration.”

With that decided, they strolled into a nearby shopping district, ducking in and out of boutiques. Ace groaned good-naturedly as her friends insisted on picking out dress after dress for her to try on. It wasn’t until she slipped into a sleek, white silk, floor-length gown with a square neckline and long, flared sleeves that both Alexandra and Rebecca lit up with approval.

“C'est parfait pour toi.” Alexandra declared, her voice decisive and soft, “You look incredible.”

Rebecca nodded enthusiastically. “It’s perfect for your birthday dinner. You deserve to shine after the year you’ve had.”

Ace tilted her head lovingly, studying her reflection while looking at the two girls. “You two are a girl's best friend. You should find something too!”

“It’s not about us!” Rebecca protested, grinning as she linked arms with Ace. “It’s your birthday, and you should feel amazing.”

“I do!” She assured looking at herself again. “Let me call Kelly and show her, then we can be on our way.” The two girls smiled and nodded with a ‘no rush’.

After a very enthusiastic facetime where Kelly said she looked like a princess, she bought the dress and went back to the hotel where Lando was waiting for her. “Hi baby.” He greeted excitedly when he saw her.

“Hi amour.” She giggled as he hugged her and tossed her into the bed. “You enjoy your day out?” He asked, seeing the garment bag. “Yeah, they convinced to get a new dress for my birthday.” She chuckled. “Of course they did.” Lando chuckled with her. “How long until we need to leave for dinner tonight?” She asked snuggling into his chest eyes closing.

“I’ll wake you up, just nap, baby.” He smiled down at the woman on his chest who had let sleep overtake her. “I love you.” He whispered, before setting an alarm and falling asleep with her.

Dinner was fun as always, having everyone together was always a joy, especially when their was drama. Ace and Lando were sat a seat away from Max when George walked in last, there was only one seat and the hush in the room made Ace and Lando squeeze each others thighs to retain their laughter.

George effectively moved that chair to sit on the opposite end of the table and Ace cleared her throat. “Drinks, anyone?” She asked and Max snorted at her inability to let anything get too awkward.

Media day was more of a ‘one-last-time’ day. They took their team photo and Ace had a conference while Lando was in the media pen.

Friday was a big day, waking up to the announcement from Max and Kelly. She made sure to give Max an extra long hug, even though she already knew. “Don’t start crying again.” He begged, making her threaten to run him into the wall. “Don’t let George hear you.” He teased and she flew into a fit of laughter.

Both her mom and two of her cousins, and most of Lando’s family were present this weekend too, the love and support were in the air this weekend

She was out in FP1 as it was her turn to give up her car for a junior driver. She was on the pitwall though, still mixed in the action. FP2 was great for her and Lando, coming P1 and P2.

She was coming into quali day confidently, and having topped FP3 she was ready for quali.

Walking from the hub to the garage her and Lando were surrounded by kids asking for autographs. They loved the little ones and tried to get to them all, but they were against the clock. They signed what they could before finding an opening in the crowd and speeding through it. Both were quiet as they focused in on themselves. Getting into the garage they parted with a small kiss. “Stay safe.” They whispered to each other before going to their respective sides.

She made it into q3 as normal, P3 at that and then got time deleted.

“Ace, that lap was deleted. Turn 1.”

“Fuck man.”

“Head down, just go again, you have time.”

So Ace did just that, she was ready. About halfway through her out-lap Rupert came back on.

“Your time was reinstated. You are currently in P3.”

“Merci, mon Dieu.” She sighed. “I’m still going for this one. I can do better.”

Ace took off fresh off the line, her whole lap was brilliant. “Good lap, that’s provisional.”

“Where’s Lando?”

“On a fast-lap right now.”

As Ace did her cool down lap Rupert came back. “Lando P1, you are P2. Great laps today.”

Ace hit her hands against her steering wheel. “Yeah, happy for the team. I can do better tomorrow though.”

Ace does not seem happy at all.

She does not if her hitting her wheel is anything. She had great pace today, was hoping for a pole i assume.

And for a second there we thought she had it!

Right! But we have to wait for tomorrow because turn 1 always brings us some drama.

Ace parked next to Lando in parc ferme with a sigh. She unclipped and got out of the car, going to congratulate Lando. She wouldn’t ruin this for him. “Family is over there.” He pointed when she pulled off her balaclava sluggishly. “Go say hi!” She laughed as he practically bounced.

“Wanna wait.” He said quickly, aka making her rush. She laughed un-doing her four twists as Lando waited impatiently. “Alright, alright!” She said as Lando pulled her over. She immediately went over to her maman who hugged her happily. “Fier de toi chérie.” Ace smiled happily. “Merci, maman.”

She hugged her cousin Genevive, then her cousin Marc -who ruffled her hair knowing she hated it. She hugged all of Lando’s family as well before she had to do interviews. She put her hat on quickly and grabbed the mic from Lando.

“Ace, P2 on the day. So close to that first pole position, but another front row start and a dream start for the McLaren team. Just the conditions we saw yesterday, a bit cooler a bit windier, how tricky was it out there.” James introduced and asked her. Ace nodded along as hhe spoke before lifting the mic up.

“Uh, yeah, it was a bit tricky today, compared to last night, uh, it took us a bit of time to find our pace and put promising times on the board, but we got there in the end, uh, great result for the team, happy with my last lap, wish I could do it again, but…” she chuckled, “P2 is still a good spot, and it's great for the team.”

“You had that little situation there with the track limits. Where the last lap was taken away, then it was reinstated, what’s that conversation like between you and the engineer during that time where you're not sure if you get to keep the lap or not?”

Ace chuckled at her normal radios, “it’s usualu me cursing in French and my engineer trying to calm me down.” She said honestly with a laugh, “But in these situations where its a high maybe, he doesn’t tell me if its under review, because i’ll panic. He just tells me it’s deleted, do another one. It ended up being faster anyway, not fast enough, but it was reassuring having a backup plan.”

“Front row lockout obviously for the team, but how important is it for the team to carry that momentum into the winter?”

“Yeah, I mean, the biggest goal is winning the championship, that’s what we are focused on tomorrow. I’m sure we’d both love to win the race, but we'd love the championship even more, so we will make sure we accomplish that and have some fun tomorrow.” She answered strategically.

“Well good luck with that. Congratulations on P2. Ace Giovanelli!” She waved at everyone in the stands and handed the mic to Carlos. She finally got to her water and walked over to Lando and Terry Crews.

“You did great out there.” he complimented when he saw her, giving her a high-five. “Thank you!” She laughed. “Almost got him in the end.” She continued nudging her head at Lando and wrapping her arm around his waist. “You’ll get him soon.” Terry laughed. “I’ll just steal his engine, can’t go anywhere without it.” She teased and Lando shook his head, “I’ll inform the team to keep my car under lock and key.” As they laughed Carlos came beside them as they had to take their picture.

Ace went to Lando’s right with Carlos on the left as Lando fixed his hat. The two looked at each other with a smile knowing their teammate. They posed for the picture and Carlos and Ace went off as Lando signed the Pole Tire and posed with Terry.

When their photoshoot was done the trio walked off. “Onto Sunday?” Lando asked as he did every Saturday. “Onto Sunday.”

•••

taglist: @unlikelystay

#lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x black!reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x driver!reader #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris smut #ace giovanelli #ace writes #acesofspadess #abu dhabi gp 2024 #carlando

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giuseppe-yuki · 3 months ago

Note

Zhou looks like someone who would have a shih tzu shfter as a so and she would be from the royal family

mmm, that’s such a cute idea! i feel like they would be perfect for each other, since shih tzus are known to be really playful, sweet, and sometimes shy dogs, goes well with zhou’s personality. however, both would not hesitate to defend each other, like the day they first met.

pictures credits from pinterest :)

zhou guanyu x shih tzu!royal!reader

as a member of the royal family, there were certain expectations of you. royal members were supposed to be public, but not too public. they were supposed to dress fashionable, but in a modest way. they were supposed to attend charity dinners and galas, but not too many. they also were supposed to have hobbies and talents, but respectable ones.

honestly, you thought everything was a little too much. you tried your best to follow your parent’s rules, but you genuinely felt like wearing something a little more revealing or posting about a trip you had with friends would not make you any less of a good future ruler. you liked fun, and it didn’t felt fair that all your friends were busy jetting off to England and Dubai and clubbing every night when you stuck in your palace, as so not to ruin your public image.

so, unbeknownst to your mother and father, who were busy signing off on documents and giving supportive speeches, you would sneak out of the castle and bribe your private jet pilot to fly you to different “fun” places. one of the top spots you often frequented was milan or paris for fashion week.

sneaking into a runway show wasn’t very hard. the first step was the security, which you had down after much practice slipping through. shifting into your shih tzu form, you padded your way through the legs of the security guards, who let you through with a pat on the head. they always assumed you were the pampered little pet of one of the guests, which you did not hesitate to take advantage of.

the second part was avoiding the paparazzi section. luckily for you, everybody was dressed in couture, with fringes, sequins, mesh, and leather everywhere you looked. nobody even gave you a second glance when you strolled past, now dressed to the nines in a similarly fashionable outfit. you hurriedly take a random seat as the show begins, and tall, slender models strut on the stage show off the newest looks for chanel, prada, and dior. the way the fabric is draped, the colors, and the textures spin in your mind, chasing away all your worries of being a royal. why worry about your multiple language and speech writing classes when you can be swept up in the blinding lights and pretty patterns?

faster than you can realize, the show ends with a polished group of individuals that you assume to be the head designers that come out and wave a few times. overhead, the dimmed lights flash on, temporarily blinding you.

now was time for the hardest part, getting out of the show. the scraggle of paparazzi that you easily maneuvered through were now vultures, waiting to snatch up a noteworthy and reputable guest to drill questions about their outfit and their thoughts about the show. you knew that if you got caught by some reporter for elle, vogue, or some gossip magazine, you would never hear the end of it from your mother.

skirting around what looks to be like kylie jenner and gigi hadid, you make a run for it past the “pit” area of paparazzi. you weave through the crowd, even taking cover behind the icon adriana lima to avoid a reporter that you swear was looking straight at you.

you breathe a sigh of relief when you reach the exit, about to pull out your phone to send for your driver to take you back to your jet, when a hand yanks you backward.

yelping, you stagger backward to find a rather elderly but stylish old man look at you up and down.

”sweetheart,” he drawls out, sending you a suggestive smile. “you must have been one of the models up there on that stage! you’re too beautiful to not have been. whaddya say you come home with me, huh?”

still in shock, you can only stutter out incomprehensibly. while you had a few close calls with interviewers, you never had a person outright ask to take you home.

the man, as if not seeing your furrowed brows and defensive posture, continues to hold your wrist roughly. he flashes you a wad of cash in his pocket, and raises his eyebrow, as if that would easily convince you to go to his mansion wherever he lived.

before you have a chance to respond to his rather rude assumption, an impeccably dressed young man firmly yanks the older man’s hand off of your wrist.

you dash behind your savior, hiding behind the soft material of his black suit with red embellishments.

“who do you think you are?” offending elderly man snaps, annoyed. “i was talking to this young lady right here. you had no right to yank my hand like that!”

the kind man squares up. “i’m her boyfriend,” he says unwavering. “and as her boyfriend, i suggest you back away. if you didn’t want someone to yank your hand maybe you shouldn’t touch other people with them approving first!” he says to the other man, gesturing over to your cowering figure behind him.

“oh yeah?” the aged man says, “well y-“

suddenly, a look of familiarity crosses his face, a look you know full well from years of being recognized on the street.

“hey! wait a minute! aren’t you that little princess from…where was it? from that little country…” he exclaims, moving closer.

“no!” you immediately say, cutting him off. “i’m not!”

the man next to you, seeing your alarm, cuts the wrinkled old man from coming forward anymore. “okay, i need to you to stop right there. i told you that she is my girlfriend so please just leave us alone.”

he shoots you a silent look, and when you nod, he clutches your hand and bolts off with you.

you basically sag in relief when escape the situation, profusely thanking the man, who you find out is named zhou.

as a thank you, you head into the nearest coffee shop and buy him a giant cup of coffee and a cake pop (which you end up eating, because he says that he’s on a ’diet’ for his sport or something like that).

when you slide into a half-hidden booth at the back of the coffee shop with zhou, having temporarily postponed your jet back to your country, you partly cover your face with your hand just in case any lurking paparazzi or fans walk into the store. he swirls his cup of coffee in his hand, one eyebrow raised at your attempted ways to hide your face.

“i don’t mean to pry, but what was that about you being a princess back there?”

“call me your knight in shining armor!” zhou says, jokingly.

you groan into your hands. “why is that the first thing you say after i reveal this top-secret information?”

he shrugs, a grin on his face. “hey, i thought that joke was pretty funny.”

you roll your eyes, but chuckle lightly, watching as zhou sends you an exaggerated wink from across the table. behind him, you notice the quickly darkening sky. without noticing, you had chatted with your savior for over two hours, about the most random topics. perhaps this was the freedom your non-royal friends felt, being able to go into public whenever they wanted and to chat up a perfect stranger. unfortunately, your parents had a gala planned that night, for some obscure sport event that was taking place in your country. if they asked someone to fetch you to get ready, they were bound to find out that you were in a whole different part of the country, and they would probably give you hell about it.

when he sees the frown on your face, he tilts his head. “somewhere to go?” he asks, slowly gathering his empty coffee cup and used napkins.

“yeah…,” you reply sadly. “duty calls.”

zhou checks his watch, and a look of shock crosses his face. “oh shoot- i have somewhere to be as well.”

“oh!” you say, awkwardly standing up. “i guess that worked out.”

he nods, and politely walks you out the coffee shop, making sure to hold the door open for you. when your personal driver arrives in his secretive-looking car, complete with tinted windows and bulletproof doors, you wave goodbye to zhou. “thanks for…everything, i guess,” you remark. “an extra big thank you for pretending to be my boyfriend too,” you laugh.

“not a problem!” he responds, giving you a smile. he slips a red handkerchief into your hand (’can’t leave the princess without a gift,’ he had said) before shutting your car door gently. the last that you see of him is his dark hair and fancy black suit with red embellishments as he climbs into an expensive-looking car that you hadn’t noticed on the side of the street.

when you arrive back in your country, and your driver drops you off at the palace from the airport, you practically flee towards your wing of the massive house, hand still clutching zhou’s red handkerchief.

your makeup and dressing team usher you in, squeeze you into a beautiful outfit, and place a glittering tiara in your hair just as your mother walks into your spacious dressing room.

she nods approvingly when she sees your prim appearance, a similar tiara glistening in her hair.

“hello, mother,” you wave, the makeup lady still brushing powder on your nose.

“hi!” she exclaims. sending you a wave back. "you look beautiful, honey,” she compliments, giving you a hug and a kiss. she turns you around, admiring the way the materials flows nicely around you, when she sees you holding on to the piece of red cloth. she sends you a weird look, but clears her throat. “anyways, i just wanted to come in and let you know that we are leaving soon,” she states.

hurriedly, you shove the handkerchief into your mini purse and hold it behind your back as you nod your head profusely. “mhm! okay, i will go to the front in a bit!”

you are enjoying a plate of rather tasty noodles, and tuning out a speaker talking about some racing team called alfa romero, when you hear a familiar voice behind you.

”hello, princess!” someone whispers into your ear.

you jerk back, fully expecting that weird old man from the fashion show to be standing behind you. instead, in front of you, stands zhou.

”what the fuck??” you say, bewildered. “what are you doing here??”

”are princess allowed to cuss?” he asks, scrunching his brows.

you cast your plate of noodles aside, and cross your arms in front of you. “no, answer my question first!”

he scratches his head. “well…if you haven’t noticed, i’m kind of a formula 1 racing driver, and this is kind of my team..."

he points to the stage, which has a pretty obvious blown-up picture of his face next to another man with a cool-looking mullet.

your cheeks flush red. as if it couldn’t get worse, you notice that his suit has a big pin with the alfa romero logo pinned to it, which matched the racing car that was placed in the middle of the gala room. next to it sat a large plaque that had his name and the number 24 carved in thick black font.

“um…okay, so i might have just made that connection,” you mumble.

zhou laughs. “no worries. what are the chances that we meet again, though?”

half an hour later, you both find yourself in the gardens next to grand hall hosting the event, drunk and giggling on champagne. the bubbly alcohol made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. or maybe it was zhou?

you both rave about the looks at the outfits at the runway show earlier that day, about zhou’s racing career, about your daily escapades, and about every topic you can possibly think of. you think you laugh more than you ever have in years, being stuck in the palace to just study all day. caught up in your conversation, you don’t notice a certain elderly old man stumble through the bushes.

he spots the pair of you before you both spot him.

“you!” he growls out, stumbling towards the fountain that you were sitting on the edge of.

your eyes widen to the size of saucers, spotting the old man flattening the trimmed grass with each step he takes toward you.

zhou sobers up almost immediately, again placing himself in between you and the offending subject.

“can you just leave her alone?” he exclaims, using one hand to hold him back from taking another step. “i don’t even know how you got here, but you really have to get out.”

the elderly man snaps. “oh i know all about you, guanyu zhou! i am a prime investor in alfa romero, but i’m greatly reconsidering putting my hard-earned money somewhere else in light of your egregious behavior!”

with surprising strength, he shoves zhou, causing him to fall backwards, almost hitting his head on the stone of the fountain.

you gasp. without thinking clearly about the consequences, you shift into your dog form and launch your small form straight at the old man. going crazy, you bite down on his hand and yank as hard as you can. ha! you think. this will teach him for hurting others!

when zhou recovers from his second shock of the day, he hurriedly grabs you off of the old man, who quickly hobbles away, nursing his hurt hand while yelling obscenities.

zhou gently sets you on the ground, giving you a small circle of space to calm down.

you shift back, and sit on the edge of the of the water fountain like nothing had happened.

“wow, the gall of that man!” you note, shaking your head.

ignoring your comment, zhou buts in. “wait. let’s just pause and digest what just happened. was there anything else you wanted to tell me other than the fact that you are a princess and you can shapeshift?” zhou asks.

shrugging, you shake your head. “erm… no. i think that’s about it!”

i hope i did your prompt justice :)

#anais talks🎙#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf fic #f1 imagine #zhou guanyu x y/n #zhou guanyu x reader #zhou guanyu x you #💬

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cheriladycl01 · 10 months ago

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Could you fic for Fernando Alonso with wife reader? They're on vacation during the winter and she's cold, so she take a water bottle and cradle it. Nando saw it and felt jelly and left out🤭 I don't know if it make sense. Add something else to it if it's not right. Thanks!! :))

Finland Freeze - Fernando Alonso x WifeReader

Plot: Fernando decided to take you on a ski trip, however after testing out the bunny slopes and multiple falls you need to go back to the log cabin for some warmth, however Fernando feels as though he should be that warmth instead!

"Come on. It's not that hard!" your husband Fernando laughed from the bottom of the small hill. You look down at him, from up here the slope looked huge.

There was multiple kids going past you, throwing themselves into the activity while you stayed there apprehensively.

"Come on mi amor!" he shouts up to you. You take a few more seconds before starting pushing yourself down the slope on the ski's. You start to speed up and you try leaning into the turn but end up just plopping down into the icy slope. You look up, pulling your goggles up seeing your husband laughing at you with his hands on his knees.

A dad laugh.

You got up quickly rubbing the snow away from your now probably bruised bum. You start up again, taking the turns a little slower and manage to get down to your husband with only 2 more slip ups.

As you neared him, he opened his arms wide as if you were a toddler coming towards him. You however didn't fully slow to a stop, and end up falling in between his legs taking him down with you.

"Offph, I know when i married you I said till death do us part... but your taking that very seriously!" he jokes looking over you before helping you up from the snowy floor.

"Your the one who got me to come to Finland with you! I would have happily spent my winter in Dubai, or Australia!" you comment, pulling him into a hug.

The next few times and he comes down the hill with you, holding your hand and making sure to balance you back out when you start to skid.

After a few more hours, your getting too cold, your cheeks fully red and not enjoying the dropping temperatures. You say that you'll go back to the cabin on the ski resort to warm up while Fernando goes on the big slopes with his personal trainer.

You get in, changing from the damp skiing gear you were sporting and wrapping a dressing gown around you while you shove it all in the washing machine.

You quickly make your way over to the bathroom getting in the warm shower and rinsing of your body, keeping it on a warm temperature to try and warm up the furthest bits of your body.

You stayed there for at least 45 minutes, where you fingers slowly started to resemble prunes. You put on joggers and a hoodie of your husbands and some big fluffy socks. You make you way down to the living area turning the kettle on immediately. You grab the matches and light the wood inside the fireplace that Fernando had put there the previous night when you both realized you'd used most of it up.

Once the kettle has boiled you split the water, most of it going into the pink fluffy hot water bottle you'd conveniently taken with you, even though you'd been told you wouldn't need it. The other goes into making yourself a tea, using the last of the milk you guys had brought for the cup, noting you'd have to go to the little shop on the lodge sight later tonight.

You grab multiple unhealthy snacks that Fernando always held a grudge when he saw you lazing around on the sofa and his cheat day foods in hand on a random Wednesday.

You set yourself up on the sofa under a white fluffy blanket, nesting yourself down in between the large pillows. You hug the hot water bottle and turn on a new crappy rom-com in the Netflix recommended.

Fernando walks in the door, snow in his hair from the growing snow storm outside making you chuckle at his gruff entrance despite his small stature.

He walk over to you and leans down kissing your lips making you recoil away and bury down into your blankets more due to the coldness he brought.

"No kisses?" he asks looking at you with a tilted head and puppy dog eyes.

"You're cold hermoso" you smile shyly, not wanting to be rude but also wanting to keep warm.

"Hmmmm, i'll get changed and then you've got to let me in that bundle of warmth!" he exclaims before crossing over to the bedroom.

He comes back in a pair of shorts and t-shirt the outfit making your eyes widen shocked that he could even possibly be warm in that outfit. He starts to climb into your nest you've created pulling a random wrapper off you and into the little bin behind you both before he starts to undo all your hard work of keeping the warmth in.

"Mmmmm no please!" you complain hugging the water bottle closer trying to keep the warmth.

"I'm hurt mi amor! This bottle is a better source of heat than me? Your husband?" he asks looking over you and you want to nod you really do but his expression makes you just stay still as he starts to pull the blanket away from you. He lays down, re-wrapping the blanket around himself when he pulls your hot water bottle away.

You groan out a complain.

"Mmmm I'm better than this stupid bottle!" he says before snaking his hands up under your hoodie making you shiver and whine from how cold his hands are.

"Fernando!" you gasp when he fully flattens his hands on your back.

"We'll warm up soon" he smiles fully laying on your and hugging your body into his.

"I was warm until you showed up" you sigh starting to play with his hair that was under the blanket so your finger tips didnt get too cold.

Eventually the fire really kicked in and your body heats started to regulate meaning you were both warming each other up nicely now, to the point where you both fell asleep in your little nest of the sofa hugging each other with the soft voices from the next movie that had automatically played on in the back ground.

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