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dreamersparacosm · 4 months ago

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jeon jungkook - under the checkered flag (part one)

warnings ; none!

prompt ; in which a girl who doesn’t believe in risks takes the biggest one of all—falling for a man who lives for the thrill.

note ; the TikTok that started it all (you need to watch this to envision racer!jk) GUYS I CANT BELIEVE PART ONE IS HEREEEE i hope u lil angels enjoy!

playlist here

series masterlist here

You find yourself standing at the edge of the VIP lounge, the sound of your heels clicking on the smooth marble floor, breaking the gentle murmurs around you.

The tall glass windows open up to a breathtaking view of the track below, where the crowd’s cheers swell and recede like waves, nearly drowned out by the roar of the engines. Yet, here you are, remaining removed from it all, as though encased in a bubble of calm.

The race is unfolding in front of you, a blur of speed and motion that holds the crowd in rapt attention. But not you. You’re not here for the spectacle. You’re here because you unfortunately have no choice.

If it were up to you, you would be curled up at home with a good book.

Your world normally exists in the quiet hum of spreadsheets and contracts, in the tick of a clock that keeps perfect time with your efficiency. You’re the one who makes sure the numbers line up, the one who offers solutions from behind the scenes while others bask in the glory. The event, with its flashing lights and intoxicating energy, is nothing more than background noise to you. The true task at hand are your clients; pleasing them, keeping them content, ensuring they leave with what they need.

Around you, they chatter excitedly about the race, discussing drivers with fervor, as if each name carries the weight of a story, a legend. You smile politely when needed, nodding along to their enthusiasm. It’s part of the job, after all. But the adrenaline, the hunger for victory, the dizzying rush of competition.. none of it calls to you.

Your clients are electric with excitement, each eager to bask in the glamour of it all. They laugh, they network, they try to rub elbows with the important people in the room, as if each conversation could bring them closer to something more. You, however, remain at the fringes, a quiet observer of the spectacle. You sip your drink, a touch too sweet for your taste, but it’s expected. You nod politely, always maintaining your composure, never letting them see the distance you’ve carefully cultivated.

The cars race by in a blur of metallic color, their engines a symphony of power and precision. But you stand untouched, removed from it all, an island of quiet in the midst of a storm. Your thoughts drift, but not far, always circling back to the task at hand. You are, after all, a woman of purpose.

Still, the world around you shifts ever so slightly. The energy is palpable, like the thrum of an engine idling before it roars to life.

You’re in the middle of a conversation with Nari, one of your clients, who’s standing beside you, happily chatting away about the race. It’s not an unpleasant exchange, though you keep it measured, carefully maintaining the reserved, corporate presence that’s expected of you. You listen, nodding at appropriate intervals, offering the occasional smile as she recounts the excitement surrounding the event.

Nari, unlike the others in your circle, doesn’t seem to care about the business aspect of the evening as much. She’s enjoying herself—really enjoying herself, letting her enthusiasm radiate out. She’s warm, and that makes her easy to talk to, even if you remain a bit distant in the conversation.

Then, in the middle of a sentence, she slaps your arm not once, but twice. The suddenness of it makes you blink in surprise, your mind instantly jumping to work. You glance at her, half-expecting her to make some point about the contract or a deadline that’s come up.

But when you turn to her, Nari isn’t looking at you with business eyes. She’s gazing intently at the track, eyes wide with awe. “Look!” she says, voice full of excitement.

You glance down at the racing circuit below, but everything is a blur—a sea of people cheering, the cars zipping by at breakneck speeds. You don’t understand what’s drawing her attention, but you follow her gaze to the far end of the track.

And then you see it.

A man stands near the pit crew, a figure who stands out effortlessly, almost as though the world around him fades away. It’s not just his presence—it’s the way the crowd reacts to him. Eyes are locked on him, whispers swirl, and every now and then, a fan cheers what you assume is his name in admiration.

Nari catches the look on your face and laughs softly. “That’s Jeon Jungkook,” she says, her voice tinged with something you can’t quite place, something between awe and admiration. “You’ve heard of him, right?”

You shake your head, still a little lost. “Should I have?” you ask, keeping your tone polite, though it’s laced with curiosity.

Her eyes widen in disbelief. “He’s only one of the best race car drivers in the world. This whole event is basically about him. I would die for just 10 minutes alone with him.”

You follow Nari’s gaze again, watching as “Jungkook” moves with effortless confidence, his every step showcasing a quiet, undeniable power. His race car driver’s suit hugs his frame, the white fabric lined with dark accents and the bold logos of his sponsors. The suit, though simple in design, speaks of his place in this world—the world of speed, danger, and high stakes. It’s pristine, a sharp contrast to the messiness of the pit area, yet he fits into it as if he belongs there completely.

But it’s not just the suit that catches your attention. There’s something magnetic about him. The lip piercing—just a small glint of silver beneath his lower lip—gives him an edge, while the eyebrow piercing above his sharp eyes seems to dare the world to approach him. His hands, resting casually at his sides, are covered in tattoos—delicate yet bold designs that snake up his fingers and wrists, visible even beneath the sleeves of his racing suit. His dark hair, tousled just enough to look effortless, adds to the allure, making him seem like a man who’s too cool to care and too talented to be ignored.

You can’t help but look him over. He’s a stark contrast to anyone you’ve known, his raw energy, his daring look, the kind of man you’ve only ever heard about in stories, the kind you’ve never quite crossed paths with. Not that you have much experience in that department. The world you come from is much more… structured. A world of numbers, strategies, and controlled environments. Nothing like this chaotic, exhilarating universe of racing, adrenaline, and the crowds that follow it.

Nari nudges you lightly. “He’s kind of... impossible to miss, don’t you think?”

You nod, still trying to process the whirlwind of everything around you. “I can see that.”

For a moment, you just watch him—a man who seems so comfortable in his world, his confidence radiating with every movement.

Jungkook’s car, marked by his distinctive racing team’s logo, takes its position at the front. He stands next to it, his figure impossibly calm before the storm, waving to the crowd with an easy, practiced smile that seems to light up the entire stadium. The way he moves, the confidence in his every gesture, makes the rest of the world around you blur into the background. All eyes are on him, from the front row of the VIP box to the fans pressing their faces against the barriers.

His smile is magnetic, a gesture that holds the room in its sway, and then, just as quickly as it arrived,he slips behind the wheel, his body moving with a fluidity that hints at a lifetime of discipline. The helmet is a perfect fit, the visor obscuring his face but never hiding the intensity in his posture. His team surrounds him, final checks being made, and then he’s in the car: strapped in, ready to take on the track with the same precision he’s mastered over the years.

You can feel the energy in the room shift, like the collective breath of a thousand people held in unison. As the engines hum louder, the cars tear forward into the first turn, their bodies slicing through the air like knives. You don’t know much about racing, but you can’t help but feel the sheer power, the danger of it all—the skill it takes to navigate at such speeds.

Nari, beside you, is practically vibrating with excitement. She can hardly sit still, her eyes never leaving the track. “I can’t believe I’m here,” she says, her voice a mix of awe and gratitude. She glances at you, her smile wide and genuine. “You’re seriously the best consultant I’ve ever worked with. This event? Amazing! You have to bring me to more of these. I can’t even handle how cool this is!”

You smile, acknowledging her praise, but your attention drifts back to the track. You’ve never seen anything like this before, never experienced a race in person, never felt the air thrum with the excitement of speed and skill. The crowd’s reactions are infectious. Their eyes never leave the cars, their cheers rising and falling with every passing lap. The noise is overwhelming, yet somehow it doesn’t drown out the sharp clarity of the moment. It’s like you can hear the tires gripping the track, the engines growling in perfect synchronization with the heartbeat of the race itself.

And then, there he is again—Jungkook. His car glides effortlessly through each turn, sharp and controlled, never losing speed. It’s almost as if the car is an extension of himself, his hands on the wheel, his foot pressing the pedal, a perfect partnership of man and machine.

The rest of the VIP section is just as absorbed as you are now, their eyes locked on the track. No one seems to care about anything else. All conversations have died down, replaced by the collective focus on the man in the race car. He’s the center of the universe in this moment, and the crowd knows it.

You watch him move, almost hypnotized by the way his car zips around corners, its sleek frame barely brushing the edge of the track. His body remains a steady presence inside the car, every movement smooth, fluid, like he was born to be in this exact moment.

Nari’s voice breaks through your thoughts again, louder this time, almost giddy. “He’s incredible, right? I swear, no one drives like him. He’s untouchable.”

You nod, barely aware of the words you’re saying in response, your gaze still fixed on him. He’s the kind of person who draws attention effortlessly—someone who doesn’t just race; he commands the track, making it seem like the rest of the world moves at a slower pace. It’s almost impossible to look away.

But after a few more minutes of intense watching, everyone seems to fall back into the habit of corporate mannerisms.

The night stretches on, the hours bleeding into one another with a blur of handshakes, small talk, and the kind of polite smiles that never quite reach your eyes. You can feel the weight of the evening in the tightness of your cheeks from all the forced grins, the exhaustion starting to settle into your shoulders. You keep your posture straight, your voice steady, your words measured, as though each conversation is a carefully placed step along the invisible path you’ve created for yourself. But, truth be told, it’s all starting to feel like too much.

The race has come and gone. The crescendo of excitement has dwindled down to polite murmurs and the clinking of glasses, but the energy remains alive in the air, electric, like the hum of a far-off engine. Around you, investors, some of your coworkers, and clients continue their conversations, chirping in your ear with their endless chatter about the race, the drivers, the statistics—everything and anything, as long as it keeps them entertained. And you? You’re just trying to stay afloat, to steer the conversation back to the real reason you’re here: the merger.

You focus on the man in front of you, nodding at the right times, keeping your voice neutral as you slip between sentences about engines and market strategies. Your mind drifts, but you catch yourself, keeping it professional. It’s a balancing act, one you’ve mastered after years of doing the same dance, smiling just enough, listening with enough attention to make them feel heard, but never too much, never enough to let anyone see the quiet retreat inside your head. You nod at the right times, laughing at the jokes that aren’t funny, offering the occasional “That’s right” when a client drones on about the race they just witnessed.

Then, as you try to pull the conversation back toward the merger details with your client—an overly enthusiastic man who seems more interested in talking about his recent investment portfolio than the deal at hand—you hear it.

A ripple. A whisper. A soft murmur of voices, high-pitched and full of excitement. Female voices. And then, the faint sound of heels clicking against the floor, echoing slightly in the VIP box.

You don’t immediately turn, but the shift in the room is subtle. The air grows thicker with anticipation, the laughter quieter, as though everyone is holding their breath. It’s only when a few heads turn, followed by more murmurs, that you realize what’s happening.

Someone important has entered the VIP box.

Someone you recognize from Nari’s earlier fangirling.

Jungkook.

The shift is almost imperceptible at first, a movement in the periphery of your vision that catches your eye, a figure so distinct, so naturally commanding, that it’s hard to miss. He’s not making an announcement, not demanding attention. He simply enters, and it’s as if the room bends around him, reshaping itself in a way that makes him the undeniable center of gravity. His presence is magnetic. Without even trying, he draws every pair of eyes in the room to him.

You hear the soft laughter of women who have gathered around, trying to look casual, trying to seem unbothered, but the way they adjust themselves, the quick flickers of glances—they can’t help but steal a look at him. And you? You feel the sudden pressure of the moment, his presence now hanging thick in the air like an unspoken truth.

You try to keep your focus on the client in front of you, but your gaze inevitably slips toward him. There he is, still in his racing suit, but now a little looser, his jacket untucked as he walks through the crowd. His casual swagger, the way his head tilts slightly as he acknowledges a few familiar faces; everything about him oozes confidence. He’s not trying to be noticed. But somehow, he is.

Your heart races in a different way now, not because of the race, but because of the way he moves, the way the crowd subtly parts to make room for him, as if they know who he is and who they are in comparison. He’s an anomaly, a figure who doesn’t belong to this world of quiet mergers and business deals.

You can feel a flutter in your chest, an inexplicable tension rising, but you push it down. You can’t focus on that now. You can’t focus on him. Not with the clients still chattering away, not with your responsibilities still weighing heavily on you. Yet, you can’t ignore the way the room feels suddenly sharper, the air charged with an energy you hadn’t felt before.

There’s a soft rustle of clothing behind you, and when you glance back, you see Nari slipping through the crowd toward Jungkook, her excitement evident in the way her eyes brighten. She’s not the only one. The women around the room are shifting, making their way toward him with a subtle urgency, like moths to a flame.

You return to your client, attempting to steer the conversation back to business, but your mind is drifting again. You can’t help it. You’re aware of every shift in the room, every small movement he makes. He hasn’t looked in your direction yet, but you feel the gravity of his presence, his proximity changing the way you see everything in this space.

For a moment, you wonder why everyone is so captivated. What is it about him that makes it impossible for anyone to look away?

Jungkook moves through the crowd with the effortless grace of someone who has long ago learned the rhythm of the world he inhabits. He’s calm, composed, exchanging polite handshakes with the investors who surround him, his presence making each gesture seem deliberate, calculated. The hum of voices rises and falls in time with his movements, the crowd parting for him like a river parting for a stone. He’s not rushing, not in a hurry. He’s here because he belongs here.

As he works the room, the questions swirl in your mind. Why is he here? What’s the connection? You can’t imagine him needing anything from these people—not with his reputation, not with the wealth and fame that follow him wherever he goes. But still, there’s something about the way the investors are all hanging on his every word, leaning in as though his presence is a golden ticket. You can’t help but wonder if it’s all about money, if this event has as much to do with business as it does with the race itself.

The realization is jarring for a moment. You, someone who is used to orchestrating behind the scenes, someone who deals in numbers and contracts, now find yourself in a room where money and power are on display in ways that are almost foreign to you.

The buzz of conversation shifts, and before you can dive back into your thoughts, Nari is suddenly beside you, her voice loud with excitement, a bright flush of energy in her cheeks. “I can’t believe it!” she practically squeals, looking like she might burst. “He just shook my hand—he shook my hand. I need him so badly, you have no idea.”

You blink, caught off guard by the intensity of her words. She’s practically vibrating with excitement, her eyes wide as she looks back toward him. There’s a kind of longing in her gaze, something that makes the entire room seem a little more... charged, as though everyone’s attention is fixated on him in a way that you simply can’t understand.

You nod, offering a half-hearted smile. “Oh, wow.” The words are polite, simple, just enough to acknowledge her enthusiasm without drawing too much attention to yourself. You’re not sure what to say—what can you say? She’s swept up in the excitement of the moment, but you can’t bring yourself to share that same energy.

Instead, you find your gaze slipping to the snack table at the far side of the room. You don’t want to be in the center of all this, don’t want to be caught up in the growing buzz surrounding him. You slide away from Nari, keeping your movements minimal, your presence as unnoticeable as possible.

The snack table is a welcome refuge, quiet, untouched by the frenzy of the crowd. You stand there for a moment, inhaling the sharp, tangy scent of the cheeses and the subtle sweetness of the wine, a quiet comfort in the sea of noise around you. You nibble on a small piece of cheese, your fingers careful and measured as you pop it into your mouth, savoring the simple relief of it.

Your eyes flick to Jungkook once more. He’s still shaking hands, still effortlessly charming those around him with his easy smile. But now, you feel distant from it all. The noise, the chatter, the way people react to him—it’s all so foreign to you. You slip another piece of cheese into your mouth, focusing on the taste, the quiet that surrounds this small corner of the room. It’s easier here, simpler. You don’t need to pretend, don’t need to keep up with the energy everyone else is feeding off.

And for the briefest moment, you wonder if this is how the world of racing works—how Jungkook works. Not for the thrill, not for the rush, but for the way it makes everyone around him move a little differently, makes them feel things they didn’t know they could. The thought doesn’t linger long before you pull yourself back to the present, focusing instead on the taste of the wine, the cool glass in your hand, the familiar comfort of a world you understand.

The hum of conversation from the other side of the room feels distant now, muffled by the quiet solace of the snack table. You nibble on the cheese with a soft sigh of relief, the familiar taste grounding you. The wine has a slight sweetness, and it’s just enough to keep you in the moment, away from the chaos of the night. The tension from before starts to melt away, and for a few seconds, you let your mind wander—distracted, content with the quiet rhythm of the evening.

You hum lightly to yourself, just enough to fill the space around you but not enough to draw attention. The world feels a little more manageable from here, and you savor that, the small comfort of solitude. You barely even notice the shift in the air at first, the subtle change in the atmosphere that suggests someone has approached.

It isn’t until you feel it—the shift of warmth beside you—that you glance to your left.

And there he is.

Jungkook. Standing beside you. His presence is so undeniable, so magnetic, that it feels like the rest of the room fades just for a second. He’s close, closer than you anticipated, and the sharp contrast between his energy and the calmness of your little corner hits you all at once. The way he stands, so comfortably in his own skin, his posture relaxed but undeniably confident, it makes everything else around you seem smaller.

You freeze for a moment, caught off guard, your mouth still full of cheese. You’ve barely swallowed when his voice breaks through the moment, teasing, light. “I think you’re the first person here not begging for my attention,” he says with a sly smile, his eyes glinting with amusement.

For a split second, you almost choke—cheese threatening to go down the wrong way—but you manage to swallow, your throat suddenly tight with nerves. You cough lightly, your cheeks flushing instantly at the way his words sink in. Begging for his attention? You weren’t begging for anything. You hadn’t even expected to be noticed by him at all.

You look up at him, trying to compose yourself, but the sudden proximity makes everything feel a little too overwhelming. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the flush spreading across your face, but you don’t dare look away from him. Not with him so close, his smile like a direct challenge to your calm.

He’s even more striking up close, everything you’d caught from a distance now amplified. The faintest trace of cologne drifts in the air, something fresh and woodsy, like a walk through a forest after the rain—sharp, clean, and oddly comforting. His scent clings to the space around you, making it feel like he belongs in this small, intimate moment with you. It’s not overwhelming, but it’s enough to make your pulse race in a way you don’t expect.

His face is sharp, defined in a way that makes you almost forget to breathe. His jawline is strong, perfectly sculpted. But it’s his eyes—those big, dark eyes that hold you, flickering with mischief—that draw you in completely. They’re intense, like he’s looking right through you, and yet there’s an ease to him, a calmness that contrasts the usual intensity of his presence. The smile on his lips is soft, almost like he’s amused by something only he knows.

His racing suit is open at the collar, the fabric still tight enough around his shoulders to highlight the muscle beneath. You can see the tattoos again, this time more defined in the soft light, the intricate designs that snake down his hands and wrists, the way they seem to tell stories of places he’s been, people he’s known. They make him feel untouchable, like someone who belongs to a world you don’t understand.

But what really gets to you, what truly stops you for a moment, is the way he stands so effortlessly. There’s no pretense, no act. It’s just Jungkook—confident, unbothered, and entirely himself. And you, the shy, reserved woman who doesn’t know how to even respond to the comment he just made, find yourself completely at a loss.

You chew the inside of your cheek, still trying to compose yourself, and force a smile, but it’s a weak one, barely holding up under the weight of his gaze. “I—I wasn’t really—” You clear your throat, still feeling a little breathless. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore anyone.”

His grin widens, like he’s amused by the awkwardness you’re trying to hide. “No harm done,” he says, his voice low, warm, and entirely too captivating. The way he looks at you, almost like he’s studying you, makes it hard to focus on anything but the feeling of his presence beside you.

In that moment, you realize you’re standing far too close to him. You take a small step back, trying to maintain some sense of space, but the tension between you feels electric, sparking in the quiet gap that’s now between you. His gaze never wavers, though.

There’s a beat of silence between you, one that stretches just long enough for you to feel every little awkward movement, every small shift in your body. You can feel the heat still lingering in your cheeks, but you try to focus on the moment at hand, on the cheese, at least. It’s easier that way.

You glance down at the spread, your hand reaching out without thinking, grabbing another small wedge of cheese, and offering it to him. You can’t help it. It feels like something you should do, a simple gesture to fill the space and keep things light.

“Would you like some?” you ask, your voice far quieter than you’d like it to be. You hold the piece of cheese out toward him, your hand trembling just slightly at the edge of the plate.

Jungkook’s eyes flicker to the cheese for a moment, and then back to you. His lips twitch upward in an amused smile, the kind that seems to reach his eyes as well, making them sparkle in the soft light. He raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his gaze.

“No thanks,” he says, his tone warm and playful. “I’m good.”

You nod, feeling a little foolish but trying to brush it off. “Right, of course. You’ve probably had enough to eat before this with all the racing... and the shaking hands,” you add with a faint, awkward laugh, hoping it will hide the embarrassment that’s suddenly crawling up your neck.

The words hang in the air for a moment, and you can feel his gaze still lingering on you—intense, curious, like he’s trying to figure you out. You shift uncomfortably, biting your lip, trying to think of an excuse to slip away. Your mind races, trying to find the perfect moment to exit without drawing too much attention to your awkwardness.

“So, uh…” You clear your throat, trying to sound casual, but the nervousness makes it impossible. “I should probably—uh—get back to my clients.” You take a small step back, but Jungkook doesn’t make it easy. He doesn’t move, doesn’t make any effort to let you go. Instead, he just smiles wider, watching you with that same unshakable intensity.

“You sure?” he asks, almost like he’s genuinely intrigued. His voice drops a little, softer now, but still playful. “You’re not leaving because of me, are you?”

Your cheeks burn again. You wish there was a hole in the floor you could crawl into. Why is he so intense?

“No, no, I just—” You stumble over your words. “Just… a lot of work. You know.” You laugh nervously, but it sounds like something forced, something too hollow.

You can feel the weight of the conversation press in on you, like the walls are closing in with each passing second. You offer a tight smile, hoping it’s convincing. “It was nice talking to you, though. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

You take another small step back, but Jungkook leans in just a little, his voice low enough that it feels like it’s just for you, a private joke between the two of you.

“You know,” he begins, his smile still tugging at his lips, “you’re the first person I’ve met tonight who hasn’t been totally starstruck by me. It’s… kind of refreshing.”

His gaze flickers down to the cheese again, and you see the teasing glint in his eyes. It’s like he’s playing a game, but you’re still trying to catch up.

You glance at the plate again, trying to avoid his gaze. “Well, I wouldn’t want to be too obvious about it,” you say with a nervous laugh, hoping your attempt at humor doesn’t come off completely awkward. “I mean, it’s just cheese.”

Jungkook laughs, and it’s a warm, low sound that seems to make the air around you feel a little lighter. You look up to see that he’s still watching you, his eyes filled with that same curiosity.

You swallow, still feeling the heat of your blush, trying to keep your composure. “I—uh, I’ll let you get back to your…” You glance around the room, trying to find something to distract yourself with. “Fans,” you finish lamely, gesturing vaguely to the women still surrounding him.

He raises an eyebrow, amused, as if your attempt to pull away is both endearing and mildly amusing. “Right. Fans.”

You take another step back, your hand instinctively reaching for your glass of wine, though it’s still mostly full. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you as you start to turn away, but you don’t look back. You can’t. If you do, you’re afraid you’ll never escape this moment with him.

Social interactions were never your strong suit. Better luck next time.

You slip away from the table, but as you move through the crowd, you can’t quite shake the feeling that Jungkook’s presence is following you. You make your way to the group of clients, trying to dive back into the sea of business chatter, but your mind keeps drifting. You catch yourself glancing around the room, as if waiting for something—anything—to pull your attention away from the chaos of the evening.

And then, of course, there’s the unmistakable sound of chatter about Jungkook, quiet but deliberate. You don’t need to turn around to know who won’t shut up—Nari.

She’s yapping away to some of your colleagues, other girls you work with that are swept up by Jungkook. There’s a few moments where you wonder if you should join, take some time to yourself to listen in on what they have to say about him, but you hold yourself back.

You end up spending more time burying yourself in the crowd, talking to any man who has ears. After all, your boss and you were managing the largest merger of the year and it would be incredibly irresponsible not to focus on the task at hand.

However, after twenty minutes of empty conversations and nothing getting you closer to your goal, you excuse yourself to go to the restroom and freshen up.

On your way, you discreetly look around for Jungkook, not like you care, but just out of curiosity. As any sane person would do.

You sigh quietly to yourself, shuffling towards the restroom. As you walk down the hallway, you see a buff figure walking towards you. It really is quite dark in the hallway, they should really—Ah fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Sirens are going off in your head like someone’s under arrest. But it’s too late. He’s already there.

He stops in front of you, blocking your path to the bathroom. “Leaving the snack table so soon?” Jungkook’s voice is light, but there’s something about it that still makes your heart skip a beat. He is close enough for you to feel his presence but not so close that it feels suffocating. His tone is playful, teasing, as if he’s aware of how you’re trying to avoid him.

“I thought you were just getting started with the cheese,” he adds, his lips curling into that mischievous smile again.

You pause, glancing over your shoulder to see if anyone can save you, your expression betraying nothing but a slight flicker of embarrassment. “I, uh… I had to get back to my clients.” Your voice is quieter now, more measured, the words leaving your mouth carefully. You try to stay calm, despite the heat still rushing to your face. “You’ve got plenty of people to talk to, though.”

Jungkook doesn’t seem to be deterred. He leans in slightly, his smile widening, but his gaze softens just enough that you notice the change. “Not everyone, though.” He pauses, his eyes briefly scanning over you. “Everyone else is... well, they’re all talking to me, but no one’s really listening, you know? It’s not the same.”

You bite your lip, trying to maintain your composure. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“No worries,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal, the hint of something more vulnerable flashing in his eyes for just a moment. “I’ll talk. You don’t have to.”

There’s a slight playfulness there, but also something more genuine in the way he’s looking at you now. “I’m just curious. You don’t seem like you’re here for all this. The whole… racing thing.”

You blink, surprised by his perceptiveness. “I’m here for work,” you say, your voice almost reflexive. You don’t know why you feel the need to justify it, but you do.

Jungkook’s eyes remain on you, his curiosity still simmering beneath the surface. He doesn’t push, but there’s a quiet persistence in his gaze. “That’s fair,” he says, nodding. “But you know, sometimes... people miss out on the good stuff when they’re too focused on work.”

You can’t help but laugh lightly, though it feels slightly awkward. “I’m not really one for distractions.”

He smirks, eyes dancing with amusement. “I wouldn’t call me a distraction,” he says, voice lowering ever so slightly. “More like… a different perspective.”

You hesitate, unsure of how to respond. Something about the way he’s looking at you makes the air feel thick, but not uncomfortable, just charged with that same curiosity that keeps you on edge. But the last thing you want to do is make things more complicated than they already are.

“I’m not—” You stop yourself, realizing you’re just rambling now. “I’m not really someone who… stands out.” The words slip out before you can stop them, but as soon as they do, you regret it. You want to take them back.

“Hm,” He whispers, leaning in and looking around like he’s sharing a secret with you. “I disagree.”

And with that, he turns on his heel, brushes past you, and disappears back into the room of investors and financial advisors.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

It’s a slow Saturday, the kind that moves at its own pace, unbothered by the rush of the world. You savor days like this—quiet, predictable, wrapped in the small comforts of your routine. Grocery shopping, yoga, a few errands. Nothing extraordinary, nothing chaotic. Just peaceful.

You hum softly to yourself as you push your cart down the aisle, scanning the shelves for the last few things on your list. The fluorescent lights above hum just as softly, the occasional beep of a barcode scanner echoing somewhere in the distance.

Your grocery store isn’t a grand, upscale market. It’s just the one closest to your apartment, the same one you’ve been going to for years. It’s the cutest little shop, nothing like those expensive groceries in the middle of the city. You’ve never even spotted a celebrity here, despite Seoul being a city where that should be possible. But that’s fine with you. You prefer the anonymity, the ability to mind your business in your leggings and oversized hoodie, hair barely tamed into a ponytail.

You reach for a box of cereal, standing on your tiptoes to grab it from the top shelf. But the moment your fingers brush against it, disaster strikes.

A domino effect.

One box tips, then another, and before you can react, an entire row of brightly colored cereal boxes comes tumbling down in an avalanche of poor balance and regret.

You yelp softly, scrambling to catch at least one of them, but your coordination fails you miserably. The boxes hit the ground in a loud thud, rolling slightly before settling in a messy pile at your feet.

You stare at the disaster, your brain short-circuiting as you try to decide whether to pretend it never happened or make a run for it. But then.. oh god.

A low chuckle.

A very familiar chuckle.

A chuckle you heard less than 24 hours ago.

You freeze, your entire body stiffening before you slowly turn your head.

And there, standing way too close in your very normal, very not-celebrity-worthy grocery store, is Jeon Jungkook.

Holding a carton of almond milk and pushing a cart full of groceries.

Dressed in a black hoodie, sweatpants, and a backward cap, looking annoyingly good for a man just trying to buy groceries.

You blink, convinced you’re hallucinating. This can’t be real. Why is he here? Why is Jeon Jungkook grocery shopping like a normal person, in your store, might you add?

His grin widens when your eyes meet, pure amusement lighting up his face. “We have to stop meeting like this,” he muses, crouching down to pick up one of the fallen cereal boxes. “Or are awkward encounters just your thing?”

Your soul tries to exit your body.

You open your mouth, but no words come out, your brain still struggling to bridge the gap between last night’s VIP suite and this very ordinary grocery store aisle.

“Are you…?” You trail off, because duh, of course he’s him. There’s no mistaking those tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves, the lip piercing catching the light as he smirks at you like you’re the most amusing thing he’s seen all day.

Jungkook tilts his head, as if waiting for you to finish your sentence. When you don’t, he laughs lightly. “Am I what? Grocery shopping? Yeah. Kind of unavoidable if I wanna eat.”

You blink again, your brain still short-circuiting. “I just— I mean, I didn’t think you did normal things like this.”

His grin turns downright mischievous. “What do you think I do? Have groceries magically appear in my fridge?”

You fluster, feeling ridiculous. “Well… kind of?”

He laughs, shaking his head as he hands you one of the cereal boxes. “Nah, I like picking out my own snacks. What if my assistant gets the wrong ones?” His voice dips slightly, playful. “I take my cereal very seriously.”

You let out an exhale, trying to find your footing in this conversation. “I see,” you murmur, glancing down at the boxes scattered around your feet. “Unfortunately, I seem to have tried to kill them all.”

Jungkook lets out a dramatic sigh, crouching again to pick up more. “Tragic. They never stood a chance.” He looks up at you, eyes twinkling. “But hey, you’re consistent. First nearly choking on cheese, now this. What’s next? Knocking over a fruit stand?”

You groan, covering your face with your hands. “Please don’t remind me about the cheese.”

“But it was my favorite part,” he teases. “Seeing you all flustered.”

You huff, quickly gathering the rest of the cereal and shoving it back onto the shelf. “I wasn’t flustered.”

Jungkook leans against the cart he just now retrieved, his smirk lazy, knowing. “Mmm.” He doesn’t sound convinced at all.

You clear your throat, desperate to change the subject. “So, um… do you always shop here?”

He shrugs. “It’s close to my place. And quieter than those big department stores. Less people trying to take pictures of me while I buy bananas.”

You stare at him. “People take pictures of you while you buy bananas?”

“Oh, yeah,” he deadpans. “One time, a fan took a picture of my shopping cart and started analyzing what kind of guy I was based on my snack choices.”

Your eyes widen. “And what was the verdict?”

Jungkook sighs. “Apparently, my protein bar choices scream ‘emotionally unavailable.’”

You snort. “Well, they might not be wrong.”

His jaw drops in playful offense. “Wow. And here I thought we were getting along.”

You laugh, feeling yourself relax until his expression shifts, something softer in his gaze now. He studies you for a moment before speaking.

“I was actually hoping I’d see you again,” he admits, and your stomach flips violently. “You left so fast last night, I didn’t get the chance to ask for your number.”

Your brain short-circuits again. You blink up at him, completely dumbfounded. “Wait. Why would you want my number?”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, amused. “Because I want to text you?”

Your mouth opens, then closes. You struggle to find an answer that makes any sense. “But… why?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

You don’t. Not at all.

The idea that he—a man who could have anyone, a man who’s probably been linked to actresses and models and the kind of women who look like they belong in his world—would want to text you is beyond comprehension.

So you do the only thing you can think of.

You smile politely and say, “I appreciate it, but… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Jungkook blinks, caught off guard for the first time since this conversation started. “Wait. Are you rejecting me?”

You shift uncomfortably, suddenly feeling too warm. “I just… don’t think we’re the kind of people who text each other.”

He looks at you for a long moment before shaking his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You clutch your cart a little tighter. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He exhales, shaking his head like he can’t quite believe what’s happening. Then, with a playful salute, he backs away. “Alright. No number—for now.” He winks. “But I have a feeling this isn’t the last time we’ll run into each other.”

And with that, he disappears down the aisle, leaving you standing there, heart pounding, wondering how on earth your quiet Saturday turned into that.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Monday morning, you find yourself back at your desk, the quiet hum of the office filling the space around you. The excitement of the race lingers, its echoes still vibrating in the air. Clients are still singing your praises in your email inbox, and your boss is smiling more than usual, clearly impressed by the successful merger. For the first time in a while, you feel like you’ve done something right. The buzz of the event, of the energy you felt while navigating the chaos, is a distant memory, but it lingers in a more subtle way, quietly at the back of your mind.

You sip your coffee, staring at the screen in front of you, but your thoughts drift every now and then. The loud office, the steady rhythm of typing, all fades out a little when you remember your Saturday. Jungkook’s smile, his presence... it’s all still there in fragments, playing in your mind. You shake your head, trying to push it down. No need to revisit it. Not now.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Jisoo’s voice breaks through your thoughts, bright and full of energy as always. You look up to see her standing in front of your desk, her hand on her hip and a wide grin on her face. Jisoo, your coworker, your work best friend and polar opposite, always seems to bring light with her wherever she goes. Her laughter is loud, her confidence undeniable. If you had a tenth of her charm, you’d feel unstoppable. But you don’t. And that’s fine. You just admire it from afar, wishing you could be more like her.

She tilts her head, eyeing you for a second. “How was the race Friday night?” she asks, sliding into the chair across from you without waiting for a response. “Clients were probably all over you. Everyone is still talking about it.”

You shrug casually, hiding the way your heart rate picks up at the mention of the event. “It was fine,” you say, keeping your tone neutral. “Same as any other corporate event. Just a lot of small talk.”

Jisoo’s eyebrows shoot up. “Small talk? You saw all those famous drivers. Some of the most handsome guys out there! Bet you had a blast.”

You shake your head with a soft laugh, pushing the thought of Jungkook back where it belongs. “Yeah, it’s not really my scene. The clients were happy, though, so that’s what counts.”

Jisoo leans forward, narrowing her eyes with that playful glint you’ve seen a thousand times before. “Hmm… that totally doesn’t sound convincing. There’s gotta be something interesting that happened. Something crazy? Don’t leave me hanging.”

You feel your cheeks warm just at the thought, but you quickly wave it off, your hands busy shuffling papers on your desk. “Nothing really. Just a lot of racing and cheering.”

Jisoo raises an eyebrow, obviously unconvinced. She glances around, ensuring no one else is within earshot before lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Wait, hold up. Wasn’t that sexy driver Jeon Jungkook there?” She grins widely, like she’s figured out some huge secret.

Your heart stutters for a second, and you try to play it cool. You casually shrug, pretending like you don’t care. “I don’t know. I don’t really keep track of the drivers.” Your voice is light, but inside you’re anything but calm. The heat creeping up your neck betrays you.

Jisoo’s grin only widens, clearly enjoying the moment. “Uh-huh. Sure. I see the way you’re reacting right now. You have a celebrity crush on him, don’t ya?”

You feel the flush in your cheeks deepen, and you quickly take a sip of your coffee, hoping it’ll hide your embarrassment. “I mean... he was there. Yeah.” You try to make it sound like it doesn’t matter, like you didn’t notice the way his presence shifted the energy in the room, but your tone is too soft, too uncertain. Jisoo is practically bouncing in her seat with amusement.

“Uh-huh. And I bet you’re also going to tell me you didn’t catch a glimpse of him at all?” she teases, leaning forward now, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “The guy with the tattoos and the eyebrow piercing? The one who looks like he was born to be the center of attention?”

You swallow, suddenly feeling trapped in your own embarrassment. “Okay, fine,” you admit, trying to shrug it off. “He looked... fine.” Your voice is barely a whisper at the end, and Jisoo bursts out laughing.

“I knew it! You look like you’re ready to faint.” She pauses, grinning like she’s uncovered the biggest secret of the year. “You are totally flustered, and it is adorable.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands for a second, but Jisoo only laughs harder. “Oh, come on! You have to admit—he’s got the whole bad-boy charm down, huh? I mean, who wouldn’t be a little flustered?”

You shake your head, trying to hide your growing smile. “I wasn’t flustered. I just... hate this conversation topic.” Your voice sounds weak even to your own ears, but Jisoo seems to take that as all the confirmation she needs.

“You totally are.” She shakes her head, still grinning. “It’s okay, though. I get it. I mean, we don’t usually meet guys like him in our usual work world.”

You wince slightly, but Jisoo just gives you a wink, clearly teasing but with no malice behind it.

Just as you try to collect your thoughts, to brush off the teasing from Jisoo, your work phone rings, cutting through the tension like a lifeline. You nearly jump out of your seat, grateful for the distraction. Jisoo, ever the playful force of nature, grins even wider, leaning over your desk to grab the phone with a mischievous look in her eyes.

“Hello, this is (Y/N)’s phone,” she says in a mock-serious tone, her fingers tapping at the bobblehead on your desk in time with the words, clearly enjoying herself. “How may we help you today?”

You raise an eyebrow, exasperated but relieved that the attention is off of you for a moment. Jisoo’s antics, as usual, are borderline absurd, but they’re what you need to keep your mind from spiraling. She waves the phone around a little, tossing the bobblehead in the air and catching it again, all while you try to ignore her antics and focus on the tasks at hand.

Then, you hear the voice on the other end. A man’s voice, smooth but businesslike, and it immediately pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Is this (Y/N) (L/N)?” the voice asks, formal and crisp.

You freeze, blinking at Jisoo as she gives you a confused look. You didn’t expect a work call at this hour. You rip the phone out of her hand. “Uh, yes, this is (Y/N),” you say hesitantly, wondering who it could be. You didn’t recognize the voice, and the formal tone sets off a strange feeling in your stomach.

“Great,” the man continues, not missing a beat. “I’m calling on behalf of Jeon Jungkook. You may have met him in the VIP box at the racing event on Friday.”

For a brief second, the world seems to tilt. You hear the words “Jeon Jungkook” and your mind goes blank. The name registers, but everything around you suddenly feels a little… fuzzy. Jungkook? Why would he be calling you? Better yet, how the fuck did this dude get your work number?

Before you even realize what you’re doing, you slam the phone down, your heart racing in your chest. The noise of it hitting the receiver echoes in your ears like a deafening gong.

Jisoo’s eyes go wide, her playful demeanor completely wiped off her face. “What was that??” she asks, leaning back in her chair with raised eyebrows, clearly confused and a little amused.

You stare at the phone for a moment, unsure of what just happened. The shock is settling in, but you’re still stuck on the absurdity of the call. Was this some kind of joke? You slowly pick the phone back up, your voice soft and shaky. “Sorry, I’m here,” you say, clearly flustered. “What… what was that about?”

The man’s voice comes back, just as calm and formal as before. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m Jungkook’s manager. He wanted to get to know you better, and I’m calling to see if you’d be open to that. Maybe you could meet with him sometime?”

You freeze again. You can barely process the words. This doesn’t make sense. Why on earth would Jungkook, the famous race car driver, want to meet you? You’re literally just a girl, the quiet one who barely makes waves. The idea of it is almost laughable.

You’re aware that Jisoo has been silently watching you the entire time, her eyes locked on the phone with a curious, mischievous glint. Her hand hovers near the receiver, waiting for you to react. You feel her gaze on you, but your brain is too overwhelmed to process much else.

“Uh, what?” You barely whisper it, as though saying it aloud would make it real. Your voice is barely a sound, and yet the words hang in the air like a strange invitation that you never asked for.

The man on the phone continues, his voice still calm, but you can hear the faintest note of uncertainty. “Sorry, I know this might be weird. It could be a casual hangout, nothing too formal. He just wanted to know if that’s something you might be interested in.”

Your mind is whirling. This is not happening. This is too much. You’re just trying to make a living, trying to do your job. You’re not someone who would—could—be on Jungkook’s radar. Why would he be interested in you?

Before you can make any decision, before you can even properly process the insanity of the situation, Jisoo, ever the opportunist, rips the phone from your hand. “Hello?” she says cheerfully, clearly not noticing your state of shock. “I’d love to meet with him. When would he be free?”

She’s already grinning like a Cheshire cat, and without missing a beat, she adds, “Oh, and you can just text the details to me. Thanks.”

She gives the man your cell number.

You stare at her in disbelief as she hangs up, completely unaware of your growing panic. Jisoo looks up from the phone with a broad grin. “There! It’s all taken care of. I’m sure Jungkook will be thrilled to meet you.”

You blink, trying to process what just happened. “Jisoo, no! I don’t—” You feel a knot form in your stomach. “Why did you do that? I don’t even know what’s going on! This is insane!”

She shrugs, still smiling. “You’re welcome! Don’t worry, you’ll thank me later when you’re hanging out with Jeon Jungkook. Why the fuck are you not ecstatic right now?”

You can’t find the words to explain how out of your depth you feel right now. You wanted no part in this, no entanglements with a race car driver, especially one as out of reach as Jungkook.

You sit there, in stunned silence, trying to get a grip on what just happened. Jungkook’s manager—his manager—called you.

Jisoo’s grin only widens as she watches your face slowly turn a deeper shade of red. She leans back in her chair, clearly enjoying the chaos she’s just set in motion. “I just gave you a golden opportunity, and I’m pretty sure Jungkook is going to be head over heels for you in no time.”

You bury your face in your hands for a moment, overwhelmed by the rush of it all. “Jisoo, I don’t—this is insane! Why would he be interested in me? I don’t even know how to talk to people at these events. I literally choked on cheese in front of him.”

Jisoo laughs loudly, drawing the attention of a couple of nearby coworkers. “Oh please,” she says with a dramatic eye roll, clearly not buying it. “Clearly, you’ve got this whole I’m just a little scared shy girl thing going on, and you’re the only person who isn’t swooning over him. That’s what makes you so intriguing. You’re sooo chill about everything.”

She smirks, her fingers tapping on the desk. “And let’s be honest, you’re not exactly hard to look at either.”

You nearly choke on your own air at her comment. “Stop it, seriously,” you mutter, trying to hide the heat rising in your cheeks. You’re too embarrassed to even look at her now, feeling like the walls are closing in.

Jisoo watches you with a knowing smile. “I mean, he’s a race car driver, and he’s interested in you,” she says, practically swooning with dramatic flair. “This is like every rom-com plot you could ever dream of! You’re totally going to fall for him, I can already tell.”

You groan, sinking lower into your chair. “This is not a rom-com, Jisoo. It’s a nightmare.”

She leans forward, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Yeah, well, in the rom-com, the shy girl always ends up with the cool, charming guy, doesn’t she? But instead of running away, you should go for it. Trust me, I’m good at reading these things.”

You look at her, horrified. “I don’t want anything to do with this. I just—he’s not my type. I’m not his type.”

Jisoo scoffs dramatically. “You don’t even know your type! Maybe Jungkook is your type. Have you ever even given it a chance?”

Before you can answer, your cell phone buzzes, pulling you out of the whirlwind conversation. You glance at the phone screen, feeling your heart jump into your throat as you see an unrecognized number pop up.

Your finger hesitates over the screen before you reluctantly swipe to open the message. Your eyes widen as you read the text:

"Hey, it’s Jungkook. Was kinda harder to find you than I thought it would be. Hope you’re okay with my manager calling you, I know that might’ve been weird."

You blink a few times, staring at the message as if it might disappear, but the words remain, taunting you from the screen. Your fingers freeze over your phone, and you can feel your heartbeat accelerate. What in the world is happening?

Jisoo, clearly seeing your reaction, leans in eagerly, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Oh my god, is that him? Is that his text? You have to show me!”

You’re too stunned to respond right away, your face burning as you hold the phone in front of her. She snatches it from your hands without hesitation, her eyes dancing with glee as she reads the message aloud in a dramatic whisper.

She looks up from the screen, grinning from ear to ear. “Oh. My. God.” She says, her voice almost a shriek. “This is so much better than I ever imagined. He’s flirting with you! He literally said he had to find you. Do you know what that means?!”

You shake your head slowly, in total disbelief. “This is too much.”

Jisoo shakes the phone in your face. “No, this is perfect,” she says, barely able to contain her excitement. “You’ve got a race car driver hitting on you! What is wrong with you?”

You close your eyes and press your palms to your forehead. “I don’t know, I’m just... so confused.”

Jisoo stands up, grabbing her own phone from her desk. “You’re going to reply to him, okay? And you’re going to do it now.” She waves her phone around in the air like she’s orchestrating some kind of performance. “This is your chance. You can’t just let it slip away like some boring corporate drone. You need to text him back.”

“Jisoo, I can’t,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know what to say to him. What does he want with me?”

Jisoo looks at you, her eyes wide with exaggerated seriousness. “You’re going to text him, and you’re going to make it clear that you’re not some shy girl who can’t handle a little attention.” She smiles mischievously. “Just text him back. And if you can’t do that, I’ll literally rip the phone from your hand and do it for you.”

You open your mouth to protest, but before you can speak, Jisoo grabs the phone out of your hand and types away at the screen with lightning speed.

“Done,” she says, grinning like a cat who’s caught the canary.

“What did you—” You stop yourself as she quickly hands you the phone. The message has been sent.

You look at her in pure shock. “Jisoo, you didn’t…”

“Oh yes, I did,” she says, practically skipping around your desk. “You’re welcome. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

You stare at the message she sent: “Hey! Thanks for reaching out. It wasn’t weird, don’t worry.”

Before you can say anything else, Jisoo gives you a wink and turns to walk back to her desk, completely unfazed by the whirlwind she’s created.

You look down at the phone in your hand, its screen glowing with the weight of a decision you’re not ready to make. The thought of being pulled into a world like Jungkook’s—one filled with chaos, adrenaline, and a dangerous kind of freedom—feels foreign to you, like a path you’re meant to observe from a distance, never walk. You’ve always preferred the quiet, steady hum of the sidelines, watching the world swirl around you without ever getting caught in its current.

Your life, in all its routine and predictability, feels safe, contained. You’ve spent years navigating the corporate world, where the language is numbers, the rules are clear, and nothing is left to chance.

Your ex boyfriend was just like you. Someone who understood the rhythms of work, someone who shared your focus on the future, the steady climb up the ladder. People like Jungkook, with their wild tattoos, sharp piercings, and the constant rush of danger, are the antithesis of everything you’ve ever wanted. He’s everything you’ve carefully kept at arm’s length.

But now, here you are. Unexpectedly entangled in a world you never asked to be part of, a world that feels as reckless as it is foreign.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

masterlist + request

taglist ; @yooniepot @bookstoread199 @pipipipiiiii @someonegoood @vintagemoonsstuff @kittisuuuuu @ttanniett @loonareads @jincapableoflove @jkxlvrr @taekrve @jenniebyrubies @senaqsstuff @somisarchive @somehowukook @mysjammy @busanbby-jjk @mimi1097 @mikrokosmosellen @indyuhhhhh @vantelover1306 @haru-jiminn @sky-23s-world @minimoninini @bighitfics @mellyyyyyyx @outofworldvy @smartkive @dontcallmeelle @beomluvrr

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts army

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foreveradreamaway · 1 year ago

Text

streaming- MV33/1

summary- a compilation of moments from maxs streams

i really loved writing this as i always have small idea that aren’t long enough to be their own post, if you have any small idea that goes with this or just in general then please comment it or send it to me and i will make a part two or another post similar <3

max loved to stream every now and then. he loved the interactions with fans and getting to play with his friends. you also loved when max streamed because it gave you some peace and quiet for a while, it also allowed you to do some house work without max following you like a lost puppy.

you had made numerous appearances in his streams and his fans loved it. probably enjoying seeing you both as actual humans and getting to see how you both live your daily lives together. some fans had made a compilation of the many times you made an appearance in one of maxs streams.

🏎️

max sat in his gaming chair immersed in whatever game he was playing. you needed something from the room he was in and it couldn’t wait.

you opened the door as slowly and quietly as possible and creeped over to the thing you needed. apparently you weren’t quiet enough and he heard you. he moved one side of his headset off his ear.

“sorry, i just needed to grab the end thing for the hoover.” you sheepishly smiled. he only grinned in return. you took this as the opportunity to walk up behind him so you were in the frame.

“what are you playing?” you questioned as your face finally came in shot.

“im playing cod with lando, charles and carlos”

“aww cute” you sent a quick wave to say hello to everyone that was on the other end of the camera. however your eyes were quickly caught by the top of maxs head.

“can they hear me?” you questioned, he nodded. “okay. hello everyone, it’s your favourite person in the world here and i just needed to show you something” max had a confused look on his face as he watched you through the camera, wondering what you were about to show.

your hands reached for each side of the head set that was on his head and slowly removed it and handed it to him. your hands then went to either side of his head and tilted it down.

“max gets really bad headset hair guys and it will literally stay like this for the rest of the day” max’s hands quickly went up to his hair to attempt to fix while you and the chat couldn’t help but laugh.

“shut up” he grumbled as he lifted the head set back onto his head. “love you baby!” you called over your shoulder as you left the room.

“i hate her”

“i heard that!”

🏎️

“mijn liefste, wil je zo pasta? Ik ben er nu een paar aan het maken” you can’t be seen as you poke your head round the door.

“Het gaat goed, dank je schat” he replies while not taking his eyes off the game but removing one side of his headset. “welke pasta ben je aan het maken?”

“i know i’m learning but im not that good yet max” you laugh.

“i said ‘what pasta are you making” he replies, suddenly feeling hunger bubble his stomach.

“i’m not sure yet. are you sure you don’t want any? i’ll surprise you” making food has always been one of your love languages, your mum had shown you to cook as soon as she could and you picked it up quick.

“yeah go on then” he finally turns to you and smiles as you walk away. when he finally turns back he sees the chat filled with questions and people telling him how cute you both are.

“yeah she is learning dutch. i’m teaching her” his face lights up as he talks about you. “it’s very easy for her though because she already knows other languages so she picks it up quickly” his smile never leaving his face.

🏎️

max is looking intensely at the chat in-front of him, reading everything is the chat. answering a couple questions. he does this until he sees a familiar name come up.

“‘answer your phone’ what?” he quickly picks up his phone to see that he has ten missed calls from you. he is quick to call you back.

“max stop putting your phone on do not disturb and silent” you scold. he always did when he was streaming, he always said it was because he didn’t want to be disturbed however sometimes it was important. like now.

“sorry schat.”

“do you want anything from the shop? i’ve already got your m&ms and tomato soup.” max had a soft spot for m&ms and everyone knows about this man’s love of tomato soup.

“no i’m okay thank you baby. what are we having for dinner” max had a massive smile on his face. half because he was talking to you and because he knew how much everyone watching would love the conversation.

“well you’ve got mean prep” you couldn’t help but laugh as max groaned loudly and threw his head back. he hated meal prep. don’t get me wrong he loved being healthy and eating nice food but sometimes he just craved your cooking. “and i’m having a stir fry.”

“ugh whatever. i want stir fry”

“i know baby. ill make you one as soon as your nutritionist will allow me too”

“okay fine. when will you be home?” max kept the phone close to his mic to make sure everyone would be able to hear you on the other end of the phone.

“not long, i took the ferrari so it won’t take me long to get home. i don’t have my keys so be ready to pick up your phone and open the door! okay, i love you bye” you ended the phone call quickly before he could say anything about you taking his car.

“i swear she prefers my cars over her own” he laughed as he read through the chat again.

🏎️

when you moved in with max you demanded that a sofa be put into his gaming/office room. he got you the cosiest sofa he could just to make sure you were comfy. max spent a lot of time in the room and you missed him when he was in there.

before you lived together, you tried to sit on the floor when you were round but you just weren’t comfortable enough so that’s when you demanded a sofa. if max was streaming or just had some admin stuff to do, you would just sit on the sofa and enjoy each-others company.

max was streaming, as per usual, while you sat all snuggled up on the sofa across the room. you had one the comfiest jumper of his that you could find, his joggers, a blanket covering your whole body and tucked under your chin and you glasses that sat on your nose.

max had specifically bought a pair of joggers that were too small for him. one day he came home to see you wearing a pair of his that were far to big for you and when he questioned you, you said that you just enjoy wearing his clothes. so the next day he went and bought a pair that were to small and placed them in his waldrobe. from then on they were yours.

you were also a secret iPad kid at heart. your iPad was literally your prized possession and you took it everywhere with you. now was no different as you sat there with your ipad resting on your legs as you watched tik tok.

“look” you turned the ipad around so that it was facing max, he leant on the arm rest of the chair to get a better view of what you were showing him. it was a cat.

“we should get sassy and jimmy one” he laughed as you nodded. he sat back into his chair and caught what the chat were saying. many people asking where you were.

he grabbed the camera from its holder and turned it to face you, showing you under the blanket. he got up out his chair and moved to sit next to you on the sofa.

“you are actually such an old man” you laughed as he struggled to hold the camera so that it would get a view of both of you. “give it to me” you took the camera from his hand and wrapped your other arm around his neck to bring him closer to you.

“hey guys, it’s your favourite person in the world here” the camera now had a perfect view of both of you as you put a quick peace sign up to the camera. you quickly nudged max and his fingers quickly went to the same position as yours. “i want to show you all my outfit, hold this baby” you handed the camera to max and threw the blanket onto him as you stood from your seat.

“max, show them my whole body my love” you laughed as he was only showing the camera your legs. “i’m trying Schat” you leant forward a bit and moved maxs hand so it faced where it should be.

“okay so my glasses are from specsavers, they are the only people i trust with my glasses. even if i need a new pair i would rather fly home than get a pair from anywhere else. because if they messed my glasses up i would just hear my mum in my ear saying ‘should have gone to specsavers’. my jumper is maxs- where is this jumper from?” you questioned him.

“umm its a zara one i think”

“okay so the jumper is from zara and these joggers are from nike. can i even say that? do they even sponsor you?” max’s laugh could be heard from behind the camera before he replies. “yeah it’s okay. i think” his face fell into a sheepish grin behind the camera.

“my socks are from god knows where. and the blanket is from also god knows where.” you gave the camera a big smile as you fell back into your previous position.

“you are the new version of maxplaining”

“shut up”

🏎️

“can we play fifa?” you were sat on the floor, cross legged, next to max while he sat in his gaming chair. “you only want to play fifa because you always beat me” he huffed.

“exactly” you grinned at him.

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antegfx · 8 months ago

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archangeldyke-all · 5 months ago

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ANGELLLL hear me out, club mom getting hit on at work🫡🫡🫡

AEWFHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

men and minors dni

the thing is, you don't even notice it's happening.

nobody comes to a strip club and to flirt with the clothed people. especially not when those clothed people are spending their evenings kicking out touchy-feely customers and cutting off heavy drinkers. you're the resident buzzkill, that's literally half of your job. you are not the main attraction here.

so, you assume this woman's just chatty, just one of those people who'll talk to anyone. you don't even remember her name, but she's been chatting casually with you all night. you know she works in the mines. you know she's here for her buddy's birthday party. you know her favorite drink is vodka sprite. she says she likes the bubbles.

you don't even consider that she's flirting with you until cherry catches your eye across the club and frowns. after so many years working in the loud-ass club, you and cherry have become experts at reading-lips. what? you mouth.

cherry rolls her eyes. don't let sevika see you.

you frown in confusion. why? she loves these pants on me.

cherry laughs then nods toward the locker room. you huff and follow after her.

"what?" you ask.

"that lady's flirting with you mom, don't be stupid."

you burst into laughter. "why the fuck would she be flirting with me?!"

"you said the same thing about sevika on her first night here, and now look at the two of you." cherry says.

you frown. "well, yeah, but i like sevika."

cherry laughs. "and she likes you too. enough to have married you. which is why you need to steer clear of flirty-pants over there. you're gonna make your wife jealous."

the idea makes you laugh, but cherry looks dead serious. you frown in contemplation, and she kisses your cheek before heading back onto the floor.

you know sevika's the most loyal wife in the world, and sevika has full faith in your loyalty to her. she has to, seeing as the other half of your job is keeping a bunch of half-naked girls happy.

plus, flirting is obvious... right? flirting is a lower lip bitten, a heavy, calculating, lingering gaze on your hands as you work. flirting is bantering until you're too busy kissing to argue, it's sparkly grey eyes wide with lust, and giggles that sound like music.

it's not chatting about beer.

you head back out to the club only to run into ms. flirty pants herself.

"oh shit! hey, i was lookin' for you." she giggles. you frown.

"is there something i can help you with?" you ask. maybe she needs help with the atm machine-- it's been on the fritz lately.

"no, no, i was just... well, i got to talkin' to that bartender bimbo about you," you frown at the description of trinity, "and she mentioned that you're into the local music scene."

your shoulders sag in relief. she's not coming onto you, she's looking for a gig. "oh, yeah, love it. sadly, we're not lookin' for any more dj's at the moment, but if we ever have an opening--"

flirty pants cuts you off with a laugh, one of her hands landing on your shoulder. your stomach sours. "no, no, not that! god, i wish i was a musician. no, i got two tickets to this battle of the bands thing happening--"

"oh." you mutter. "no thank you." you say, enunciating each word clearly as you can over the music and firmly removing her hand from your shoulder.

you brush past her, making a bee line toward the bar.

"is that bitch flirting with you?!" trinity gasps. you groan.

"relax about it, would you?"

"relax!? mom, she's trying to break you and papa sev up!"

"you're so dram-- ew, papa sev?" you groan. "that's the worst one yet."

trinity laughs and pours you a shot. "here. drink."

you down the shot and sigh. "i'm wearing my ring and everything!" you whine. "i-i'm in this frumpy, stinky sweatsuit!"

trinity laughs. "i wasn't gonna say anything--"

you roll your eyes. "it's laundry day, okay?" trinity giggles. "but you're just proving my point. i am not the person to flirt with in this building!"

"sevika did." trinity points out. you groan.

"i looked good that night and sevika..." you trail off, the liquor hitting you and a warm fondness bubbling up in your tummy at the thought of your wife. trinity groans.

"ugh, mom, keep it in your pants."

you snort and roll your eyes. "i didn't mind sevika flirting with me. i mind this. this is awkward and horrible. what do i do?"

trinity shoves another shot under your chin. "drink this and tell her to fuck off. wave the ring in her face."

you drink the shot and cringe, then pat trinity's shoulder. "are you okay? have you taken your break yet?"

she laughs and rolls her eyes. "i'm good mom. let 'er down easy, then tell 'er if she's got money i'll let 'er flirt with me allllll night." trinity says.

you snort and shake your head, turning around to do that.

flirty-pants is leering at you from across the club. you groan, roll your eyes, then march over to her.

"there you are, pretty thing. had me thinking you were runnin' from me."

"right. about that--"

"don't tell me you're fuckin' married or somethin'--" you hold your hand up to show her your ring. she sags. "oh c'mon. that shit's fake, right?"

you scoff. "what?"

"'s a fake ring you wear at work so you don't get hit on."

you blink. "n-no! what the fuck?"

"wait... you're really married?"

"yes. she is."

you cringe and turn around, your wife standing behind you and glaring daggers at poor flirty-pants. you open your mouth to explain, but sevika simply reaches out and pulls you in for a nasty kiss by the front of your frumpy sweatshirt.

you sigh against her lips, letting her hands circle your waist, her leg shoved between yours, her tongue brushing your lips. you moan against her and she hums in response, walking you back until you're pinned to the wall.

"fuck, okay, i get it. sorry." flirty-pants mutters before walking off.

you snort a bit at her words, then reach up to thread your hands through sevika's hair, tugging enough to make her growl.

eventually she pulls away, a string of spit connecting your lips. you grin at her. "well, hello."

she snorts. "cherry waved me down when i got here and told me i needed to 'mark my territory.'" sevika explains. you giggle.

"i was handling it... but your way was a little more efficient."

sevika swoops in to kiss you again, much sweeter and softer this time. "hi, baby."

"hi. how was work?" you ask as you scratch her scalp. sevika purrs in your hold. you nuzzle your nose against hers.

"horrible. think we can leave the girls to fend for themselves for the rest of the night? i wanna take you home and mark my territory some more."

you cackle and kiss the tip of sevika's nose. "yeah, i think they'll be alright."

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

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taglist!!

@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3 @lesbones

@chezze-its @lez-zuha

#really wanted to make reader hit the “IM MARRIED” pearl scream but couldn't find a way to fit it in aldfkjaslkdjfa #sevika #sevika arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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clawsdevour · 9 months ago

Text

home

wc: 0.2k content warning: established relationship, boyfriend!suna x reader, fluff, not proofread

:・ﾟ✧

closing your front door after getting dropped off by your suna. your first date was over.. the amount of joy and excitement showing up on your rosy cheeks as your back rested on the cool dense wall, still for a moment for you to recollect your thoughts.

first ever date with your first ever boyfriend who would have thought. it really felt like you just fell in love again. you didn't give suna a kiss on the cheek before closing the door on him, the regretting setting in but instantly dispersed as all you could think about was the replaying memories you two created in a short amount of time.

bubbly sauntering down the hallway to your room, biting down your lip as you can't remove the smile off your face. you plop down onto your soft bedsheets, grabbing a pillow to rest under your chin as you take out your phone.

seeing a text already on your home screen, of course it was suna.

sunarin: soooo.. did u have fun?

you: well yeah cuz i was with u !!

the screen's illuminating on your happy expressions filled with adrenaline as your heart raced at incredible speed, legs kicking in the back when his chat bubble pops up indicating a response.

suna: i already said it but i love u @@

suna: you feel like home

masterlist here

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sammylkcho · 6 months ago

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Hey I was wondering if you could do a sprout x reader*g/n* (romantic/fluff) with just a reader who likes to bite him like in a vampire away since he’s like a strawberry so the reader likes to bite and just slurp the flavor like a vampire (I don’t know how to explain it so Srry if it’s hard to understand)

I decided to turn this into a half-headcanon with a oneshot because when I tried writing the full oneshot, I hated the result. So, here we are jnwdajkdsa

hope you like it! <3

—I feel like the first time you bit him, it was simply because a voice in your head said: "He's like a strawberry; strawberries smell good and have a tangy juice that makes them taste nice... would he taste like that too?" (A bit of a silly way of thinking, but hey, no judgment here)

—So... *sip*

—It happened during a hug, and you just buried your head into his neck and gave him a small bite, nothing too serious!

—Yes, he tasted exactly how strawberries would taste.

—Though Sprout’s flavor leaned more sweet than tangy

—Our dear Berry Boy must have been VERY confused when you did that

—"Oooh, they look like vampire marks! :D" That’s probably what you said after getting a tiny taste of him

—He likely just felt a slight tingle on his neck after you did it, unsure what to make of it

—Eventually, when the two of you discuss it and agree that it’s okay, it might turn into a peculiar but endearing little habit.

—Oneshot time!

You had been patiently waiting for Sprout to finish baking an apple pie that both of you had been craving for days. Today was the perfect day to make it since neither of you was busy—especially Sprout, who was usually the busier one as one of the mains.

While the pie baked, you kept him company, chatting about your activities over the past few days. You mentioned how Teagan had invited you for tea and how Glisten had given you some tips on "the perfect attire."

The atmosphere was cozy, almost domestic, as if nothing else in the world mattered except for the two of you. It was a sweet, heartwarming moment.

The timer Sprout had set finally went off, pulling both of you out of your little bubble.

He smiled at you before turning around to grab oven mitts and carefully remove the pie from the oven. He handled the tray with precision, ensuring he didn’t get burned.

Moments like these weren’t uncommon between the two of you. Sprout’s love for cooking, especially baking, often led to such shared experiences, where you’d keep him company in the kitchen and spend time together.

But this time, you didn’t tease him about how impatient you were to taste his creation, as you usually did. Your thoughts were elsewhere, swirling with curiosity as you kept watching him.

How would your beloved Berry Boy taste?

Sure, anyone would assume that Sprout, being a strawberry, would taste like one. But the idea left you unsatisfied.

You needed to know. Would his juice lean sweeter or more tangy, like some strawberries could?

“All done. Now we just need to let it cool” Sprout announced, his voice breaking through your cloud of thoughts.

You noticed the apple pie resting on the counter, steam curling lazily from its surface as it cooled. Oddly, you didn’t feel the usual craving for the dessert.

“Mmh... it looks delicious!” you replied with some enthusiasm, though your focus was elsewhere.

Before your sweet tooth could kick in, you stepped closer to Sprout and hugged him from behind, surprising him with the sudden action.

Resting your chin on his shoulder, you inadvertently loosened his scarf.

You pretended to nuzzle into his neck, eliciting a lighthearted chuckle from Sprout, who seemed to find your playful antics endearing. Then, without much thought, you gave him a gentle bite—like a cat—and even sucked a little to settle your curiosity.

It was..

Silence stretched as you tried to find the right words to describe the strawberry-like flavor of Sprout’s juice.

That’s it! It was a mix where sweetness dominated over tanginess. Unusual, but delicious.

Pulling back slightly, you inspected his neck to see the results of your impulsive act. The area was tinged a pale red from your playful nibble.

“You did that like you were some kind of vampire” Sprout remarked, his tone more amused than anything else.

“Oh, oh! Yes, like a vampire!” you replied with a soft laugh, still clinging to him like a plush toy.

It wasn’t a bad thing, you thought. If Sprout didn’t mind, maybe this could become a quirky little habit. You’d be his personal vampire, savoring his precious, sweet, and tangy “blood.”

#sprout seedly x reader #sprout x reader #sprout dandys world #dandys world x reader #dandys world sprout x reader

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xoxolilixx · 8 months ago

Text

𝙃𝙤𝙗𝙞𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙞𝙢𝙗𝙤!𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙♥︎

Hobie was always a serious, straight-faced, nonchalant, "follow my own rules" type of person. The most you'd get outta him is a sly smirk and a sarcastic comment as he sat out of the way, mostly lingering in the shadows to avoid unwanted, empty conversation with others. Even if he was seen, his edgy and dark appearance made him unapproachable. Besides the usual red and blue color of his Spidey suit, his tall and towering stature was usually covered with black ripped denim and worn leather with silver studs pointing from every way, which matched the silver chains he wore around his neck and the silver rings he wore on his long fingers. He looked like he would step on you like a bug without a care in the world.

So, when he was spotted chatting with you with a huge shit-eatting smile on his lips and a hand on your waist, towering over you as random words slipped past your lips at a rapid speed, it caused a stir.

Here you were, bright and bubbly in your short, hot pink skirt and revealing top with a bubblegum flavored lollipop in your mouth, coaxing a smile out of Hobie. Your long, bedazzled, acrylic nails sparkled in the light as your hand gently rubbed up his leather covered arm as you looked up at him with your big doe eyes, the light pink glitter on your eyelids sparkling like stars. Hobie couldn't help but look at the gold chains that rested neatly around your neck, each charm on the necklaces sitting beautifully on top of your breasts. Every inch of you screamed girly, from the gold bamboo earrings hanging from your ears to the extra sparkly lip gloss that sat on your lips, which Hobie didn't mind helping you to remove iykyk.

It was unexpected, but everyone agreed that it was cute, seeing you perched prettily on his lap, rubbing a bright pink scented oil stick all over your wrists and neck and reapplying a glob of pink, sparkly lip gloss on your lips as he man-spreaded under you, cigarette in-between his fingers as his large, ring covered hand held your hip.

#hobie brown #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x black!reader #black!fem!reader #Black!reader #hobie spiderverse #spider punk #lilixoxo writes #Hobie brown x bimbo!reader #Hobie brown x bimbo!#across the spiderverse #spiderman #Hobie brown oneshots #lilixoxo oneshots

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fruitsboots · 8 months ago

Text

I'm a nail technician and here's a big list of headcanons about the kinds of clients the TOS Enterprise crew would be!

Kirk:

-shows up on time for appointment but sometimes has to cancel super last minute.

-doesn't bite his nails but picks at them and his cuticles. not enough to bleed or anything but enough that most of his appointment is cuticle work.

- "Cut them short" my guy there's no free edge.

- holds still, uses arm rest appropriately, doesn't stiffen his hands. no polish, just buffed smooth. jokes every time that next time maybe he'll go with a hot pink.

-asks a lot of questions and chats at the beginning of the appointment but ends up getting a little bored by the end.

-always tips very well but doesn't rebook, he'll call you.

Spock:

-doesn't make appointments, just shows up sometimes on slow days and asks to use certain supplies.

-does his own nails and keeps them very nice and neat. nail beds to die for. Nails grow very fast.

-On occasion has been talked into a dark polish and will let someone else do that for him (he's not very good at the application).

-sits a little too stiffly like he's concentrating. speaks when spoken to. doesn't linger long, the smell gives him a headache.

-doesn't tip but you’re not sure if he knows he’s supposed to.

McCoy:

-calls and asks if there’s time for a walk in then shows up later than he tells you but usually has a good excuse.

-Hands are dry as hell from washing them a lot. Worst, driest cuticles. Always gets a split on the edge of his pointer finger.

-Sits too far away from the table, at an angle, hunched, wrists on the armrest and elbows locked. Has to be asked to scoot arms forward a million times.

-Is annoying to work on technically, but fun to chat with. Always turns into a complaint session but in the best way. Wants to know the drama in your life and gives opinions.

- Closes eyes and tries not to doze off during the hand massage. Wipes off all the lotion that he desperately needs.

-Tips alright and always says he’ll come back soon but you know it’ll be another 4 months.

Uhura:

-has a standing appointment every 3 weeks and is never late, sometimes she’ll bring you a drink and apologizes when she doesn’t.

-Did her own nails for a long time and keeps them well manicured between appointments.

-Will (properly!) remove her own gel polish before appointments to save you the trouble.

- Tends to go for lighter, pearlescent shades. Always asks what you have that’s new but then picks one of her go-tos.

- Loves to look at nail art but doesn’t usually get it.

-Super bubbly during appointments, very patient, sits perfectly. Always enthusiastic about the result and gives lots of praise.

-Tips well and takes business cards to give to people.

Chapel:

-Not really supposed to get her nails done but does anyways. Doesn’t have super regular appointments but usually books with Uhura when she does.

-Usually shows up with chipped polish from last time that desperately needed removed 3 weeks ago.

-Gets light/sheer colors.

-Sometimes will book for a gel manicure and then tell you she doesn’t actually want polish this time even tho she needs it. Nice nails beds but they are thin and peel a bit without anything on them.

-Apologizes for no reason multiple times. Thanks you as if it were an inconvenience to do her nails?

-After a few appointments, she loosens up a bit. Tips decent.

Sulu:

-has gotten his nails done like five times just for fun.

-Keeps them short, not much cuticle work. Why are you here??

- Will get a couple “masculine” designs and isn’t picky about them. “You just do whatever you think will look best :) “

-genuinely fun to have as a client but needs some direction on how to sit etc. can talk about anything.

-Didn’t tip the first time bc he didn’t know and felt bad so he always does, but it’s not much.

Scotty:

-how can one man have so much grease under his nails?

-Has a standing appointment once a month for just a nail trim but should be more like every two weeks.

-Asks questions about nail equipment (UV lamp, e-file, etc).

-Talks a bit during the appointment and then stands around after chatting. Always tips like 2$ but sometimes brings baked goods, etc.

Chekov:

-wanders in with a bruised nail and is like “what can you do for this” nothing dude.

-Leaves and comes back later to buy a gift certificate to give to a girl.

#this is so long and self-indulgent lmao #this is Not Relatable to anyone #star trek tos #star trek #leonard mccoy #spock #captain james t. kirk #hikaru sulu #nyota uhura #pavel chekov #montgomery scott #christine chapel #my headcanons

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dddalgiiiiiii · 7 months ago

Text

come over?

aeri uchinaga x fem!reader

reader has cramps.. suggestive..??thats it rlly

“nnh…” you lay in a fetal position, eyes shut tightly as your arms wrap tightly around your lower abdomen, your blanket covering your body from head to toe.

you furrow your eyebrows, reaching your hand out from under the blanket to grab your phone, attempting to distract yourself from your pain by doomscrolling. you sigh, waves of pain coursing through your lower body. clearly this distracting thing isnt working well..

you place your phone down on your bed before stretching your arms and legs out, almost like a starfish as you gaze up at nothing on the ceiling. your moment of peace is short lived though, hearing a quick bzzt, you check your phone once again.

“u up..?” you raise an eyebrow at the notification, smiling softly before replying, “aerrrrriii.. ofc i am.. how could i not be ?” a few moments pass, and you can see aeri’s chat bubble appear as she types out a response.

“well i mean.. its like almost 3am lol u shld be sleeping” you chortle, quickly typing back another response, “i knooow.. but my cramps r horrible rn :(((“ you pause for a second, hitting send and typing once more, “come over….?:3”

you giggle, kicking your feet gently against your mattress, watching as aeri’s chat bubble appears and disappears multiple times, signalling that perhaps she panicked at your little request.

after what feels like hours (although it was probably 40 seconds) she sends back a response “lol ok”, a second message following after quickly “do u want snacks?”

“ofc !!” you smile once again, but not before another wave of pain comes through your body “ok see u soon🩷” you press your lips together, smiling before carelessly chucking your phone somewhere on your bed.

you then find yourself returning back to that fetal position that relieved so little of your pain, before hearing the soft vibrations of your phone ringing, opening your eyes slowly to answer. “hey sleepyhead, come open the door”, she sounded so nonchalant, you felt a soft warmth come over your face, suddenly hearing aeri’s voice so close to you, along with the cute nickname she affectionately gave to you “okay, okay im coming”

you grasp the blankets edge with your hands, removing it from your body before stepping into a pair of house slippers, making your way to the front door of your home.

you swing open the front door, revealing your pink haired girlfriend, dressed casually in a black hoodie and sweatpants, holding a bag which was swung over her shoulder filled to the brim with snacks. “took you long enough..” she giggled, stretching her arms out and stepping closer, pulling you into a loving embrace.

“whateverr…” you hug her back, taking in her sweet, comforting scent. “you coming in or..?” you pull away, stepping aside to let her in, which she nods and steps in, removing her shoes and slipping on her own pair of slippers that she kept at your house.

you close the door behind her, locking it and stepping towards her. you smile widely, spreading your arms apart, aeri rolling her eyes and coming closer. “another hug, huh?” she wraps her arms around your waist, dropping the bag of snacks and tucking your head under her chin.

“mh.. you smell good..” you take a deep breath through your nose, taking in every hint and note of her scent once again. “is that so… im glad..” you feel her gently running her hand up and down your back, a warmth creeping up on your face again.

you nod, slowly pulling away, yawning. “man… you brought so many snacks over… but im not even hungry anymore..” you pout, rubbing your lower abdomen with your hands. “my cramps hurt too bad to eat..”

aeri smiles, nodding her head, “thats okay, we can eat them another time.” she gently takes your hands in hers, kissing your knuckles. “but first things first.. we should get you into bed, sleepy girl.”

you dont even find time to respond before she intertwines her fingers with yours, guiding you both to your own bedroom, as if she herself owned the house. as you both make your way into your bedroom, you cringe slightly as the scattered mess of clothes and accessories everywhere on the floor, but aeri doesnt seem to care much.

after you both successfully dodge the mess, aeri clambers onto the bed first, parting her legs slightly and patting the spot between them, which you gladly accept. sitting between her with your back against her front, she wraps her arms around you affectionately, resting her hands on your lower abdomen, rubbing it in circular motions to ease the pain.

a happy, content sigh falls from your lips, relaxing your body even more against aeri’s, to which she responds by resting her head on your shoulder, tilting her head pressing gentle kisses against your neck. you let out a soft giggle and melt into her kisses. “that tickles…”

you shift your position, turning around so youre facing her, your legs wrapping lazily around her waist, straddling her as you find your eyes falling upon her eyes. a heat crawls onto your face, turning your head away from the sheer embarrassment you felt.

“hm..?” you feel a hand on your chin gently guiding your face back to face your pink haired lover “whats wrong, princess?” your face turns a soft shade of red, her thumb dragging along your bottom lip, her other hand finding its way under your shirt, caressing your bare back.

“nothing..”, you reply quickly, bashfully even. “sure, whatever you say.” she breathes out, her hand that was once on your chin moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer for a kiss.

you let out a soft breath, closing your eyes and melting into her lips. you feel her lips part, her tongue dragging across your lower lip, asking for permission to deepen the kiss.

you pause, pulling away from her, breathless and face flushed, “a.. aeri..”, her hand releases its soft grasp on the back of your neck, travelling downwards to rest on your waist, the hand that was caressing your back also finding its place on the other side of your waist.

you blush furiously, her face forming into a knowing smile. “i know already.. does it really look like im afraid to get dirty?” she smirks, kissing the corner if your mouth. “but we dont have to if you dont want to, my love.”

you shake your head in response to her words, “just.. wanted to make sure youre okay with it..” she hums happily “as long as youre okay with it.” she leans in once more, lowering her head, kissing you along your jaw and neck, reaching your collarbone as her hands travel towards the small of your back.

you place your hands on her shoulders for support, letting out soft, sharp breaths. aeri stops for a second, coming back up to make eye contact with you. “let me know if its too much, okay..?”

you nod, pulling your hands away from her shoulders for them to fall at your sides, grasping aeri’s hands which were resting on your waist as you fall on to your back, dragging her on top of you as you run your hands up along her arms, placing and interlocking your fingers behind her neck, pressing one more, lasting kiss on her lips.

a/n: tehe me when im on my period t.t… was watching aespa performances and got a lil inspired to write smth ;3

#aeri uchinaga #aespa fluff #aespa giselle #giselle #giselle x reader #kpop fluff #aeri uchinaga fluff #aerichandesu #aespa x fem reader #kpop gg #wlw #giselle fluff #aespa #aespa x reader #giselle x fem reader

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thesassypadawan · 1 year ago

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Can't Sleep (Padawan Anakin x MasterFemReader)

Summary: Your sweet baby boy had a nightmare and comes to you for ‘comfort’…in hopes having some better dreams.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because of all the lovely smut. Good old fashion fun, mommy kink, and Ani’s big dick. Padawan Ani is of age (18).

Notes: A continuation of Nice Little Chat! ❤️

It all started earlier that night. You were lying on your sleep couch, enjoying some ‘quality’ time. When you heard the sound of the door hissing open…and a knowing smile crossed your face.

Aside from yourself, only one other person had the code for your quarters. Someone who was adorable and sweet…bratty and brash. Someone who you certainly weren’t opposed to joining you. “Baby…can’t sleep again?”

Propping up on your elbows, turning the light on with a careless wave of your hand. You’re met by the precious, erotic sight of Anakin. Hair tousled, pout on his face. Cloak slipping off his broad shoulders. Favorite blanket in tow and…raging erection sticking out through the opening of his loincloth, standing tall and proud.

“Had a nightmare,” he sniffled. Brows knitted together, chewing on his bottom lip. Completely oblivious (or not caring) to his current predicament. “Can I stay with you?”

“Of course,” you cooed. Grateful for the blanket’s cover as you subtly removed your fingers from your soaked core. “You know you’re always welcome. Come here, cuddle up with mommy…let her make it all better.”

Needing no more coaxing, he happily obliged. Hurriedly climbing under the covers and snuggling into your side. Larger body winding around you; cock pressing against your bare thigh. Smearing and leaking pre, whimpering softly every now and then…until he lulled himself to sleep.

At least, that’s what it seemed…

It’s so gentle, you chalk Ani’s little humps up to him finally having a VERY good dream. However, when they begin to grow faster and more erratic. Breath starts to come out in small puffs. An overwhelming sense of arousal floods the bond. And you knew all too well…

Shifting in his hold, your hand followed the lines of his toned chest and abdomen. Finding and cupping, squeezing his length gently; eliciting a tiny groan. “Mmmh, need some extra help settling in?”

“Please,” he whined. Rubbing himself into your palm, desperately seeking more friction. All the while looking at you with those big, blue eyes; the slightest dusting of pink on his cheeks. “Pretty please.”

Lips ghosted over his ear, fingers tugged at and loosened his wrappings. “Ssh, it’s okay…” Freeing him, nudging him onto his back. “I'll help you out…”

Wearing a playful smirk, you clamber on top. Straddling, running his fat tip through your slick covered folds. Guiding it towards, having it barely kiss your aching core. “Relax and let me take care of everything.” Before slipping him in with a flick of the hips and a low hiss.

Slowly, you rocked back and forth; bouncing, using just the right amount of force. Causing Anakin to squirm so beautifully, so cutely beneath you. That it had you practically purring in delight. “How’s that, my handsome boy?”

Big hands gripped your sides. Pillowy flesh spilling out from between his fingers as he dug in. Head tilting, rosy lips parting. The most precious pants and moans escaping him. “Hnng…feel…feel…”

“Good?” A giggle bubbled out and you grinded down harder in response. Taking his cock deeper, allowing it to bully and hit your cervix. Sparks of pleasure erupting, walls fluttering. “That’s what I like to hear.”

His pupils were blown wide, gaze unfocused. You could feel him twitching, tensing up. “Now, why don’t you cum for me? Pump me nice and full…so we can both have a lovely rest.”

If your words weren’t incentive enough, the way you clamped and clenched around Ani was…

Letting out a darling, little growl he came completely undone. His warm, sticky seed coated your insides. While you greedily milked him for every last drop…rode him steadily through his orgasm. Turning him into a babbling, mewling mess. “More…more…”

“Later, I promise.” Leaning forward, you brushed your lips across his. Capturing them in a brief, tender kiss. “It's time for bed.”

“Fine.” A sleepy smile formed at the corners of his mouth and his arms suddenly engulfed your waist. Abruptly rolling onto his side, taking you along…dick still buried. “Later.”

As he nuzzled his face into your hair, you could hear his breathing evening out. Feel him relax against you, mumbling ‘love yous’ over and over again. And… your heart melted.

Sure, you didn't cum. Small price to pay for Ani to have much better dreams the remainder of the night…Good start to his morning…and yours…

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @cacti5539, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen

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allywthsr · 2 years ago

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FINDING LANDO ON RAYA | (l.norris)

summary: you are bored in your hotel room and find Lando Norris on Raya, what will happen if he texts you?

wordcount: 5.7k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral (f and m receiving), p in v

notes: seeing that video, did things to me, my first smut so please be gentle!! Comment your thoughts please also please pretend that you don’t need to be a celebrity to see others

You were in Amsterdam for a work trip, discussing business with possible new clients. The client that was scheduled on your last day, canceled the meeting the night before, because of some emergency that came up, so you being bored in your hotel room during the early afternoon, you checked Raya. You downloaded the app with your friends back in London to see who comes up and check out celebrities that had a profile there. You weren’t big on dating apps, you had Tinder but only to make fun of the jerks that were registered.

Nothing serious ever came out of the dates you had, Raya was your new hope. Maybe going on dates with celebrities would be better, maybe they wouldn’t be such idiots, in the end, you could always talk to tabloids and tell them what an asshole he was. They knew that risk and they wouldn’t just send dickpics out of the blue.

Going through the profiles you found some Instagram celebrities, but non caught your eye, you could clearly see the fuckboy in them.

You almost wanted to close the app, but saw a brown-haired boy named Lando Norris. You followed Formula One and watched as many races as you could, always keeping a close eye on the younger drivers, who just looked absolutely delicious. With Lando getting P2 in Silverstone and Hungary, you shifted your attention to him, stalking him on Instagram and finding him legs clenching sexy. You never would’ve thought you would find him on such an app. He could just scroll on his Instagram followers, chose a random person, and hit her up, she would open her legs in seconds, not that you were any different.

You clicked through his pictures, a black and white one of him looking like the dessert he is, one of him partying, and one of him with his friends and pulling a weird face. The three pictures showed his personality perfectly. Sexy, outgoing, and funny. You analyzed the profile further, looking at his profession which said, Formula One driver, age twenty four, wasn’t he twenty three? After a quick Google search, you checked that he was indeed twenty three years old. Lando Norris cheating his age, you saw what he was doing.

Visiting Amsterdam from London, just like you.

You didn’t hesitate for a second but clicked straight on the heart, hoping that maybe he liked you as well and before you could blink, a page popped up, and the words: ’You and Lando like each other!‘ flew across your screen.

You couldn’t believe it, he liked you as well. What? How?

What should you do now? Text him? Ignore it? You couldn’t ignore him. Meeting Lando was a one in a million chance. You wondered what he was like in real life, was he as funny as he appeared in all of the videos? You tapped on his chat and thought about what you wanted to say. Something sweet? Something funny? Something flirty? Or did you text him something about Formula One? You were about to exit the app and text your best friend, but then you saw a bubble appear, indicating that he was typing.

/////////////////// Meanwhile at Lando’s //////////////////////

He sat in his hotel room watching something random on Netflix when his phone made a sound, a sound that he specifically set for Raya. He removed his eyes from his MacBook and took his phone in his hand, he recognized your name from earlier. He looked for some fun on Raya, wanting a quick fuck to forget the busy weeks he had. So when he scrolled through the profiles and found yours, he was kind of drooling. You looked stunning in the pictures you put up, one of you in a park, sitting on a blanket and enjoying the sun, the next one was you, sitting on some random stairs in front of a house you found in Notting Hill and the last one was one of you sitting in front of a cake, made for your birthday. A big pink twenty two was piped on the white frosting while you smiled at the cake. You were surprised by the whole day your friends had prepared for you. Due to you moving to London for your job, you had no one at first, because of your job you got to know a lot of people and some stuck with you, surprising you for your birthday.

You looked super hot in all of your photos, choosing them with a laugh with your friends, saying how many creeps were going to slide in your dms.

So when Lando read: ’You and Y/N like each other!‘, he didn’t waste a second of not answering you. He thought you were perfect, from London and in his age range and not ugly. Lando clicked on the private chat and typed in his usual message, every time he used this, not one girl said no.

Hey there! You look absolutely gorgeous

What are you up to babygirl?

You almost let out a scream. He was a flirt, a big one. What should you do? Text your best friend and ask for help or just handle this like a pro and see what the outcome is. You decided to go for the second, if he wanted to meet up, then it was because of you and your texting and not because of your best friend that basically wrote the text for you. So you replied to him, if he was flirty, you would be too.

Hiya Handsome

Not much, chilling in my hotel room

What about you?

You wanted to keep the conversation going, so you obviously wanted to know what he was up to. If someone would have told you weeks ago, that you would be texting with Lando Norris on your Amsterdam business trip, you would have laughed at the person. You dreaded this trip, of course, it was fun traveling at the cost of the company but it was also lonely. Maybe texting Lando wasn’t that bad after all, he could be your company for the last day.

You didn’t have to wait too long for a reply from him, after seconds he had read the message and the bubble appeared again. He was not only fast at driving then.

The same

I‘m bored as hell

What are you doing tonight?

Oh god. What now? That was practically him asking you if you were free later. Of course, you were but that was not him asking for a date where he would kiss you on the cheek good night. That was him asking for a quickie and you knew it. But would you still meet him? Obviously! It’s not every day you get to meet one of your celebrity crushes.

Not much, had a client meeting but he canceled so now I‘m free

Thought about going out and seeing the city but am not sure, they said that rain is coming later

Why you asking?

You knew why he was asking, but you wanted to seem innocent. In your head you already started planning your outfit, you had a lot of serious outfits for work and barely anything nice to wear for a non formal meeting. But you were so happy you packed some lingerie, you had to because almost all of your normal non sexy underwear was in the laundry, which you forgot to put into the washing machine. Typical you.

It’s my lucky day then

The clouds are already really dark, seems like you can’t go out tonight :(

Wanna come to my hotel and maybe we could order some food? I‘m kinda craving some McDonald’s

You seem lovely

And it happened. What are you gonna do now? In the end, he was still a stranger, someone you did not know. He could be fully different from what you saw and knew of him on the internet. Oh god, what if he had some weird kinks and was going to pee on you or something? You just hoped he was normal in and out of bed. And McDonald's? Isn’t he an athlete that had to follow some strict diet? Did fastfood even fit in there? What were you going to answer to the ’you seem lovely‘? That was probably something he texted every girl, so you chose to ignore it for now.

That’s a bummer

You could be a serial killer and kill me before I get the chance of saying goodbye to my loved ones, but McDonald’s does sound nice

But does it fit into your strict diet, mister McLaren’s number one driver?

Were you actually going to meet him? You needed advice from your best friend. She knew what to do, you were sure, she always did. In the end, she was one of the humans that pressured you into downloading that app in the first place.

The serial killer existence is not giving me the kick as it used to, so don’t worry, I‘m over it

I also don’t have any more space for the corpse in my basement

McDonald’s it is then

Someone did their googling, I see

It’s the break, I can do what I want

Also, my trainer will not know about this, and what he doesn’t know, he won’t get mad over

Are you still there?

Hello?

Babygirl

Where did you go

The serial killer text was only meant as a joke, I would never do something like that, it would ruin my career

You chuckled, did he really think you were scared by the obvious sarcastic text? Cute.

If you retired from the serial killer being, then fine

I watch you drive around in circles every weekend, don’t get your hopes up, I didn’t google you

And what if I already texted your trainer and told Jon about this? ;)

Are we impatient? Am I that special that you can’t go a minute without me? Atta boy

You let out a sigh, it’s official now. You were going to meet up with Lando Norris. Then you could see how he really was and compare him to all the fan fictions you‘ve read. You really needed to sort out some outfit.

You comin‘? That’s sweet

So I got myself a fangirl? Just don’t be a Max Verstappen lover, I want you to be on my side

And if you did text him, you will get punished later ;)

You are gorgeous, just wanted to make sure that I was the only one inviting you for dinner tonight

Oh god, hallelujah. Now you kinda wanted to text Jon and see what his punishment looks like. You could feel the heat and the pulsating between your legs already and you haven’t even talked with him face to face yet. You needed to get there soon.

Sure, I always take a free meal, sent me your address? :)

Nah, I actually like George Russell but he didn’t answer me on Instagram… :(

So you‘ll do it

Now I kind of want to text him and see what that means… maybe I’ll send him a picture of you biting into a burger later

And no, no competition for you

Ah btw, what’s the dress code? I didn’t pack much fancy clothing except for my work stuff. Are we thinking sweats? Or else I’m gonna turn up in a work dress

The George Russell comment was made up, you never texted him but wanted to play a little with Lando. You didn’t know how to put the dress question in a flirty comment, you weren’t even sure if he was actually trying to get you into his bed. Maybe he was just looking for someone to accompany him for eating McDonald’s.

It’s the Hilton in Amsterdam, there‘s only one

I‘ll send you someone to pick you up, don’t worry

And that’s sad, I can’t get George to come here so quickly, guess I’ll be your only company tonight

Do it and you won’t be able to walk tomorrow

Please come in your sweats!! That’s the most comfortable for eating McDonald’s and chilling, besides, I won’t look at them when they‘re laying on the floor, so put on whatever you feel comfortable in

Yep, that was not just an ’I‘m bored’ dinner. Alright. You could feel your panties getting slightly damped when you stood up and walked to your suitcase. Fishing out dark grey sweatpants and a white crop top. You needed to shower before you went there, get cleaned up, and shave. What color of lingerie would you put on? You had no idea, maybe you should ask him since he‘s also not subtle about dropping hints about where this night would lead.

That’s nice, thank you!! What time will he be here?

Alright alright, sweats it is then, what color are we thinking for lingerie? I have some red, blue, yellow, burgundy and white

You were bold here, that wasn’t normally your case of flirting but he was just as forward as you were, so why hold back? And you really needed help choosing the color. What if he didn’t like yellow?

He‘ll be at yours at 6:30 pm if traffic is alright

Baby, I won’t make it through dinner if I know what you‘re wearing underneath

You‘re making things very hard for me already and I haven’t even touched you yet

But I love the color blue, babygirl

Put on whatever you feel comfortable in

He was the sweetest even while flirting. And him sending you a driver? Was this the princess treating your father always talked about when you were younger? But you were sure he didn’t have in mind what was coming for you after dinner if you would eat dinner before the sports session Lando had planned.

I‘ll see what I can do then

See you later handsome ;)

You hoped into the shower, washing your skin twice with the summer like smelling shower gel. Peeling your skin to make it super soft as well as shaving every hair you saw. You knew that men shouldn’t care if you had hairs on your body or not, but you felt better if you did. You were also happy, that you washed your hair yesterday evening so you did not have to worry about it now.

It was very difficult, to not touch yourself. The pressure that build up down there was almost unbearable, but you wanted to wait for Lando, it was his job now to make you feel good, you just hoped 6:30 pm would come soon.

When you got out of the shower you dried your body and tapped the screen of your phone, it was 4:48 pm. Enough time to get your makeup done and stress yourself. So before you did anything else, you applied some body cream to make your skin super silky.

Now sitting down in front of the hotel window with your travel mirror in hand, you started on your makeup. You didn’t want to overdo it and ruin this night, but you also wanted to look like something. So you did a light makeup, only applying products that weren’t heavy on your skin and looked almost natural.

The next time you took your phone in your hands to check the time it was 5:29 pm. Only an hour. You could do that. You decided to text your best friend the new details.

So you did just that, applying Parfum on your ankles, between your thighs, and even spritzed some behind your ear. You just hoped he would like your Parfum. Packing together some things you would possibly need for sleeping over. New underwear, makeup remover, your face cream, and your phone charger, you doubt he had two. You put on your sweats and the crop top over the blue lingerie, was that even the right thing? Meeting up with him just for a quickie? He won’t remember you by next week, did you really want to go through that? You would get attached to him and he is never going to text you.

The next time you tapped on your phone it was 6:24 pm, you spent the last twenty minutes wandering around in the hotel room trying to get rid of the butterflies you felt. It was exciting meeting up with someone when you knew you would have a good night, ending it with pleasure. So you gathered everything and made your way downstairs to the lobby, you waited there for a car to roll up to your hotel.

When a black Mercedes rolled up, you made your way outside and the driver got out of his car.

”Are you Miss Y/N Y/L/N? I am here to pick you up on Mister Norris‘ behalf.“

”That’s me, thank you.“

You got into the car and waited for him to start driving, he wasn’t very talkative which you were thankful for, the nerves were getting the best of you, and you weren’t sure if you would even be able to talk a normal sentence without stuttering.

When you arrived at the hotel, the driver turned to you.

”I wish you both a good evening. His room is number 1283, the left elevator and then you need to press button twelve for the twelfth floor.“

”Thank you so much for picking me up!“

With that, your door got opened and you looked at the person with a disturbed look, seeing that it was only a Portier you relaxed. You weren’t used to this luxury. Thanking the guy that opened your door, you got out and went into the hotel to the left elevator, pressing floor twelve. The doors closed and you looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. This was really happening. Before you knew it, the doors opened and you stood on the twelfth floor, now you only needed to find room number 1283. You followed the signs that were everywhere on the walls and a minute later you stood in front of the door.

With a thumping heart, you knocked at the door waiting for Lando to open it.

He answered with a big smile and tousled hair, he was dressed in some black sweats and a black T-shirt, looking handsome as ever.

”Hey, come in.“

”Hi, thank you.“

You stepped in and Lando opened his arms for a hug. Hugging before fucking, alright. He loosened the hug and his eyes scanned your body.

”You look absolutely gorgeous, Baby. Even better than on your pictures.“

”Thank you, but you aren’t that bad either, you look very handsome, I like your hair like this.“

”Yeah?“

You nodded.

What now? The sexual tension was already unbearable, you wouldn’t survive dinner. You both were practically eye fucking the other.

”Let’s sit down first?“

”Sure!“

With that you went to the cream-colored couch, sitting on it and having the perfect view over Amsterdam.

”But if you are a serial killer, do tell me. At least I want to say goodbye to my family.“

You had no idea what you were saying, you wanted to lighten up the situation but what should you do?

”Nah don’t worry, not anymore. And you‘re here for work? I read you’re from London?“

”Yes, had some meetings with clients. I moved there for my work, I love it there. And what about you? Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be in some exotic place for holiday?“

”Kinda, I visited Tomorrowland yesterday to see my friend Martin Garrix and tomorrow I have tire testing for Pirelli, so no holiday for me just yet.“

”Ah that’s fun, what are you doing for the holiday?“

”I rented a yacht for my friends and family, you should come!“

”Oh, yeah“, you blushed, ”let’s see if I still want to see you after tonight, maybe you have a small dick.“ you smirked. You wanted to get to the point of why you were here. The wet panty proofing it to you, dinner could wait, the wetness between your legs not.

He looked at you with an open mouth.

”Me and a small dick? Baby, you have no idea what’s coming.“

With that, he put his hand on your thigh dangerously close to your core. You let out a shaky breath.

”The thing is, I joked about not making it until dinner, but I really don’t think I can resist you that long, knowing you’re probably wearing sexy lingerie under your sweats and crop top.“

You could see his eyes getting a shade darker than they were when you first saw him.

”Why don’t you find out for yourself?“, you wanted to sound sexy and just prayed to whatever lord, that it did.

And before you could think about it for another second, he took you and placed you in his lap, putting his hands on your waist. His lips looked absolutely delicious, you wanted to taste them, feel them on yours. As if Lando could hear your thoughts, he pressed his lips on yours, moving them, and slipped his tongue into your mouth searching for yours. You let out a quiet moan and nudged his tongue with yours. Your hands found their way into his hair, slightly pulling on the strands, hoping that that was something he was into.

Your lips creating the loudest sounds, every time they smacked together, taking deep breaths in between. Lando left your mouth and his kisses wandered slowly down your neck, leaving a trail of wetness behind (not only on your neck) and he slightly bit the skin of the side. Without you realizing it, you moved your hips against his, dryhumping him. Lando’s hands wandered under your crop top and slowly pulled the material up, to remove it, you held your arms up to make it easier for him. When the dark blue lace appeared, he let out a breath.

”Fuck babe, you’re killing me. Even better than I imagined.“

You could just hum because he immediately attached his lips to your chest, sucking on the skin that was now freed. That felt so fucking good. Your hands went back into his hair, attaching themselves to the brown curls.

”Le-Let me“, you pressed out, wanting to explore his neck as well. That was one thing you always found sexy, his thick neck, you wanted to touch and kiss it and now you finally could.

He let go of your chest and looked at you with big eyes, you pressed a kiss on his lips and did the same then he did minutes prior. Wandering down his neck and slightly sucking, you didn’t want to leave a hickey but some sucking never hurt anyone. Satisfied with what you did, you let go of his skin and licked over the said area, feeling him shivering under you. You could also feel something hard under you, and if you were correct you wouldn’t be disappointed. It felt the right way, thick and long enough but not too long.

With a quick heartbeat, you left his lap and slowly made your way in front of him, you wanted to see for yourself if you were correct. So you sank to your knees and looked up at him through your lashes, he groaned and his head fell backwards.

”Fuck babygirl, you make it so hard for me, I could just burst right now.“

”I make things hard for you? Oh Lando, trust me, I know.“

With that, your hand slipped across his bulge, giving it a gentle squeeze. His eyes focused on you again, he could almost see how hungry you looked at his dick as if it would be your last meal.

”I want this off.“

You tucked at his sweats, impatient to finally get to his member you haven’t met yet.

”Impatient are we?“, Lando acted all cocky now, but you both knew, that when you touched his dick with your delicate hands, he would turn into a puddle. With that, he lifted his hips and you were able to pull the sweats down, seeing him wearing no underwear.

”No underwear?“, you asked with crooked eyebrows.

”Figured I didn’t need them since you were going to remove them anyway.“

When his sweats was finally pulled lower to where his dick was, his member sprung towards you, he wasn’t fully hard yet but you could work with that. You gave his sweats the last pull and they were pooling at his feet, you immediately got to work. Not wasting a second of not touching him, you grabbed his member, which laid heavy in your head, and let a thread of saliva fall onto his head, moving your hand up and down, spread the fluid evenly, feeling him hardening with every stroke you gave him.

”You‘re killing me. That feels so fucking nice.“

The praise made you smile. At least he felt satisfied, that was already good.

”Put it in your mouth babygirl.“

So you did just that, you opened your mouth and gave it a long lick, from the bottom, to the tip. Your lips closed around his head, circling it with your tongue. Looking up, he had an open mouth and his eyes looked satisfied, you wanted to do more, slowly taking his member down your throat. Lando let out a moan and reached into your hair with his hand, making a messy ponytail to hold on to.

When you reached your limit, you grabbed the rest of his dick with your hands, following the movements you did with your mouth.

”Fuck baby, that’s enough, or else I‘m going to cum down your throat, I want to taste you first.“

With an unsatisfied hum, you let go of his dick and pouted.

”Let me take you to the bed.“

You nodded and he pulled you back onto his lap, standing up as if you weight nothing and walking with you into the bedroom. The bedroom was nicely decorated and from the window, you could see a beautiful sunset, but that wasn’t something you wanted to pay attention to. He sat you down on the soft bed and you shifted to the end of his bed, laying your head on his pillow. You inhaled the scent that came across your nostrils, fully smelling Lando. If you wouldn’t be up to different things right now, you would turn around and never stop sniffing his pillow. Was that creepy? Probably.

”You need to tell me, when I need to stop, yeah?“

You nodded, not being able to say anything, excited for what was about to happen. He laid on his chest between your legs, tugging your own sweats down. With a groan he let his head fall onto your thigh, seeing your lace panty made him weak in the knee, thank god he was laying down.

”Did you put Parfum on your legs? God baby, you‘re so fucking sexy.“

”You like it?“

”Are you kidding? Fuck yes.“

He placed kisses on your thighs, and with each kiss, he got closer to where you needed him the most.

”I can smell you from here baby.“

You propped up your legs and he removed your panty with a swift move. Seeing your glistening core, he almost drooled.

”You‘re so fucking wet and I didn’t even touch you properly yet.“

”Ever since you texted me, I was almost not able to resist touching myself.“

”Fuck Baby.“

Before you could respond he licked with his flat tongue over your pussy, collecting most of the wetness that left your core already.

”You taste so sweet, Angel.“

With a groan you placed your hands in his hair, pulling on the strands again.

He flicked your bud of nerves several times then went back to toy with your entrance. A moan escaped your mouth when he inserted his tongue inside of you and with his nose he nudged your clit.

”Lan-“

”Go on, cum for me Y/N.“

Without a warning he inserted his pointer and middle finger into you and focused on your clit with his tongue, moving everything in a rhythm together.

”Fuck Lando, I‘m gonn-“, and before you could finish that sentence, your back arched and the pleasure washed over you, leaving a pulsating feeling in your core. With one last lick, Lando got up and positioned himself over you, his face glistening with your juices.

When he pressed a kiss on your lips you could taste yourself and let out a groan.

”Your skin is so fucking soft Y/N“, Lando said while he caressed your sides.

”Are you ready to take me?“

You just nodded, not being able to say a word. He already made you feel so good and he wasn’t even in you yet, you needed him, you needed him bad.

”I need you, Lan.“

”Good girl. Do you have a condom?“

”No but I‘m on birth control, you don’t have to use one, as long as you’re clean.“

”I sure am.“

His dick twitched at the thought of feeling you without a rubber, the skin on skin contact making him feral.

Taking his cock in his hand, and moved his tip through your folds, wetting his member. He looked you in the eye, silently asking you if you were ready. You nodded your head and pulled his head to yours to press a kiss on his lips, which he returned, sucking your lower lip into his mouth before pulling back and focusing on the cock in his hand. Slowly pushing his tip to your entrance, you closed your legs around his back and nudged him to push more into you. He slowly slid fully in you, as you gasped at the new sensation and felt full. He filled you up perfectly, it was like you were made for each other, stretching you in all the right places. He stood still and waited for your nod of approval to move. You clenched around his cock.

”Fuck Y/N, do that one more time and I won’t be able to hold back.“

You giggled and nodded your head, indicating him that he could move. He pulled his dick out and forcefully pushed him back in. You both moaned at the sensation.

”I hope you know how good you feel, it’s amazing.“

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head at this compliment. You loved this dirty talk he did, complimenting you. He took his hand and started to play with your clit while still pounding in you. You could feel yourself getting dizzy, the new stimulation giving you the perfect pleasure.

”Fuck Lando, you’re making me feel so full.“

He grunted at that statement. Speeding up with his movements, as well as rubbing and flicking your clit. Your moans getting higher with every thrust.

You could feel your release getting closer.

”Lando, I‘m gonna cu-”

”Baby cum for me.“

With that you felt your inside snap and the orgasm taking over your body, your eyes rolling in the back of your head and your legs started shaking. While you were on your high, Lando went and left kisses on your neck, slightly sucking, leaving faint purple bruises behind.

When you came back down you focused on Lando, clenching around him, trying to get him to cum as well. Sinking your nails into his shoulders and leaving little crescent moons on his skin, they would probably still be seen tomorrow. He groaned and his head fell down on your shoulder, panting. You could feel him painting your insides white, you moaned at the feeling.

”Fuck darling, you feel so good.“

He did some last thrusts to ride out his orgasm and then almost let all of his weight fall down on you. Your hands immediately went into his hair, stroking it while he still had his now softened dick inside of you. He lifted his head and pressed his lips on yours, moving them and creating smacking sounds.

Slowly pulling out, you could feel his and your mixed cum dribbling out of you, enjoying this sensation, Lando sat up and swiped his thumb over your labia, liking how it looked. He wiped his cum covered thumb on the white bed sheet.

”I‘d love to stay here with you, but I need to pee. It’s not very romantic but I don’t even wanna know what happens if I don’t.“

You sat up and Lando replied with a: ”Yes, please go, it’s important. I don’t want you getting a bladder infection after having mind blowing sex.“

You scoffed and got up, ”Mind blowing?“

”What is that supposed to mean?“

You turned around looking into his face, you both were smiling brightly, still having that post sex glow, but also because you joked about the sex you just had. It was fantastic. You started walking towards the en-suite bathroom.

”You were good Lando, but mind blowing? I don’t know.“

”My cum dribbling down your thigh is saying something else.“

You blushed and looked down at your thigh, seeing the white drips rolling from your core. You didn’t know what to say to that and went to the toilet to do your thing. Returning just shortly after, you sat in the bed next to him.

”You want to order some McDonald’s and stay over?“

Part two

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris smut #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #formula 1 #lando norris one shot #lando norris x y/n

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loricciardo · 5 days ago

Text

CHAPTER FIVE | JUST A GIRL

tags. original female character, max’s POV sorta, misogyny, objectification, max is a dick (as usual), christian horner, mentions of grid girls, cussing, media scrutiny, max is a dick. let me know if there’s more to be added!

a/n. this chapter is iffy to me. next week’s is really juicy, and honestly might be my favorite so far!! the first race!!! also wanted to note that natalie’s abbreviation on the time screen is NSC - not SCH because of mick/michael, who was MSC. and ‘bru’ is short for bro in german. :)

taglist. want to join or be removed from my taglist? send me an ask or comment below!

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The Bahrain sun hung oppressively above the paddock yet again, high and merciless, melting into the asphalt beneath their feet. Even inside the garages with the huge industrial fans blasting and engineers moving like shadows through the heat, the air remained thick and still. Sweat clung to Max Verstappen’s back the moment he stepped outside, his fireproofs sticking uncomfortably against his skin. It was qualifying day, and the entire track was beaming with focus.

Then came.. laughter? It was bright and bubbly, threading through the air like a switchblade. And undoubtedly high pitched, which could mean only one clear thing.

Max’s eyes snapped toward the noise, and sure enough, there she was: Natalie Schumacher. Half hidden behind one of the taller telemetry cabinets, chatting with one of the engineers, a Red Bull cap with her number embroidered on and her fire suit hanging loose around her waist. She looked relaxed. Far too relaxed for someone’s first ever official Formula 1 race as a driver for such a prestigious team.

Honestly? It had surprised Max.

He’d seen the timing sheets, and she was quick. Quicker than she had any right to be in that second Red Bull seat. When the screens in the garage lit up with her lap time, he’d let a curse slip under his breath, one sharp enough to earn a pointed look from Christian Horner.

And that only made it worse! Because Christian was the one who’d once told him, not too long ago behind closed doors, that if Red Bull could run only one driver, it would be Max. Always Max. Now, that same team principal stood proudly at the helm while Natalie Schumacher, the media’s wet dream and this so-called ‘rookie prodigy’ came within tenths of his time. She just grinned from her side of the garage just like someone who knew exactly what kind of shit she was stirring, then went off to praise the team in her interviews like a picture perfect pilot.

And Max would be damned. He didn’t buy it one bit.

Now, she was laughing again! At what? He didn’t care to know, but it cut through the whir of equipment and movement like it was meant to bother him. She didn’t belong here. Not in that car. Not in his garage. And today, he was going to prove it.

The man was halfway through stuffing his gloves into his pockets, the snug Nomex material catching slightly on the edge of the hole when her voice rang out behind him.

“Hey, Max! Good luck out there.”

How dare she speak to him like they were equals? How dare she insinuate that he needs luck?

His shoulders stiffened for a beat before he turned to face Natalie fully. She stood a few feet away and her Red Bull water bottle was in one hand, making Max deliberately hold back a scoff. The corners of her lips were curved up just enough to pass for friendly.

Max didn’t return the expression. “I don’t need it.” The words landed flat, heavy with obvious disdain.

Natalie’s smile slightly faltered. Not enough for the average person to notice, but he saw it. The subtle twitch of muscle at her jaw, the tightening around her eyes. She let out a breath that was almost a laugh, dry and unimpressed.

“Okay,” she pursed her lips, head tilting slightly. “Sue me for trying to be nice.” Her tone was laced with irritation now, something rawer underneath the surface. She tutted and turned her back to him, muttering something low in German as she walked away. He didn’t quite catch it but the edge in her voice said enough.

Her long blonde hair swung behind her as she moved, a loose, defiant wave against the pristine backdrop of the garage. Max shook his head once and went back to pulling on his gloves. He wasn’t going to let her get in his head. Not today.

But little did he know she already had.

The prep went by in a blur after that. Max stood in his corner, arms crossed over his chest as GP ran through final notes. Sector deltas, track evolution, wind direction, blahblah. Max caught every other word, just enough to nod at the right times.

Across the garage, in his peripheral vision, Natalie sat calmly beside her own race engineer, Hugh, her fireproofs now zipped up to her neck. Her helmet rested in her lap, bright red and gleaming under the fluorescent lights. Tiny lightning bolts shimmered along the sides, sharp and almost cartoonish, curling just below where her ears would be. Of course she’d have a flashy helmet.

Max rolled his eyes behind the brim of his cap, adjusting it slightly. He fully watched her only for a second. Her fingers drumming on the chin of her helmet as she nodded along to whatever strategy was being explained to her. She didn’t look nervous and she didn’t even look fazed. That bothered him a lot, especially since the team had been tense since her announcement. After two seasons of relative stability with Checo, the arrival of a rookie, even one with a Schumacher surname, rattled the team. She didn’t come through the Red Bull junior academy either, so she was still a bit of a newer face to all the guys.

All 20 drivers were called to the cars soon after. The mechanics had already rolled the machines into place with tires wrapped in blankets. Max moved first, slipping behind the wheel with practiced ease. He clicked the belt straps into place, every motion automatic and familiar. The cockpit swallowed him up, and suddenly the garage noise dulled to a manageable hum. He exhaled once through his nose and settled inside his car.

Next door, Natalie climbed into her seat, pulling her helmet on and buckling up just as smoothly. A crew member leaned in, making a small adjustment to her radio connector, and she nodded in response, adjusting her gloves. Through the narrow gap in the divider wall, Max could just make out the edge of her bright red helmet again. What a copier!

“Alright,” Christian muffled through the comms, “Natalie, you’re heading out first. Max, you’ll follow approximately sixty seconds later.”

Max watched as she pulled out of the garage, smoothly joining the line at pit exit, as if she’d done it just as much as he had. He waited, engine humming low, watching the clock.

By the end of Q2, Max was where he needed to be. Within reach of provisional pole. Estaban Ocon had triggered a red flag early on, but that was expected from Ocon, in Max’s opinion. What wasn’t expected was Natalie.

“NSC” right beneath “VER” on the leaderboard. They’d both made it into the third session.

“Alright, Max,” GP cleared over the radio. “You’re about a tenth off provisional pole. Schumacher’s two thousandths behind you.”

Max scoffed, tightening his grip on the wheel. “If I cared where she was, I’d ask.”

“Copy.” GP’s voice dropped, and the line clicked off.

Max’s final flying lap wasn’t flawless, but it was clean enough to secure pole position, as planned. As he climbed out of the car, cameras flashed, and the crowd roared. His name was on top. Just where it belonged.

He barely had time to absorb it before he heard the second driver pull into parc fermé. Then eventually the third car behind it. Max turned, expecting to see a Ferrari or maybe Norris’ McLaren in P2. They had been doing better this year, he noted.

But it was her! Natalie Schumacher, wiggling out of the buckle, stepping out of the car with a grin and waving to the fans like she was Princess Diana. Charles Leclerc reached her first, congratulating her with a brief handshake before crossing over to Max.

“Congrats, mate,” Charles smacked Max’s shoulder with a brief smile. “Looks like you got a huge storm behind you.”

Max didn’t answer. He pulled off his helmet and headed toward the staging area. Natalie followed, a step behind, pace matching his.

“So… this is how it’s going to be?” Her voice was quiet but deliberate. And the smile she wore didn’t reach her eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Max replied, eyes forward.

The media interviews started. Charles answered first, good natured and PR practiced.

“Well, we would’ve love to start P1, obviously,” the Ferrari driver chuckled. “But it’s a great spot to begin the season.”

Then it was Natalie’s turn.

“Natalie! P2 on your first qualifying session with Red Bull, just roughly 100 milliseconds off pole. What a debut!”

She smiled for the cameras. “Yeah, it all came together today. The team’s done a fantastic job getting me comfortable in the car. I’m really, really grateful.”

The questions started circling closer. “You’re starting right behind Max. How does that feel?”

Natalie didn’t hesitate, nodding with the interviewer’s words. “It’s no different than starting behind anyone else. So I’m ready for tomorrow.”

Her words were perfectly balanced. Nonchalant, diplomatic, and just slightly enough to dodge anything inflammatory. No praise, no critique. Max watched her walk away from the mic to a roar of applause. The fans were eating it up and it made him sick to his stomach.

Max stepped forward, adjusting the cap pulled down over his sweat damp curls.

“Max Verstappen,” the reporter beamed. “First pole sitter of the season. How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, it feels good. We knew we had pace here, but the job’s not finished yet.”

“Looking ahead to Turn 1, what do you expect from the pack behind you?”

He offered a short chuckle. “Honestly? I expected Leclerc or maybe Norris to be right behind.”

There was a pause before the reporter asked, “So you don’t expect Schumacher to keep her place?”

Max stared into the camera lens. “No comment. Let’s just see how the team does tomorrow, thanks.” He turned away before they could press further. The applause dulled in his ears, but he could feel her watching him from the sidelines.

Their eyes locked for the briefest moment. Her hazel eyes dark and unreadable beneath the brim of her Red Bull cap. She didn’t flinch or look away. The smirk she offered was small, defiant.

Max was the one to look away first.

“What the hell is his problem?” Natalie’s voice filled the car before Mick even made it to second gear.

“Good morning to you too,” he replied dryly, eyes flicking to her before returning to the road. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you decided to ride with me today. But do you talk this much with George and Alex? Because I’m starting to think I did them a favor.”

“Mick,” she scoffed, lightly smacking his arm. “you’re so dramatic!”

“I’m serious,” Mick chuckled with a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe there’s no explanation. Sometimes people are just arseholes.”

Natalie slumped back in the seat and crossed her arms. Her Red Bull jacket was too warm, and the sun was already pressing in through the windshield. “I haven’t done anything to that man. I’ve tried to be professional. I’ve tried to be nice.”

“And it’s been killing you,” Mick summed up.

She rolled her eyes, but smiled despite herself. Mick always had a way of diffusing her temper before it could boil over. Maybe that’s why she’d opted to ride with him this morning instead of jumping in with George and Alex, who also didn’t particularly care for Max. In fact, they egged her on. With Mick, she could breathe with a level head. Even if it meant swallowing his brutal honesty along with it.

The paddock was already super busy when Mick’s car pulled in. Security waved them through the gate as a knot of reporters stood waiting near the garage lot, cameras slung low but ready. He parked without comment and shut off the engine.

Mick turned toward her. “Ready-o?”

“Nope.” Natalie hesitated.

“Well.. at least you’re honest.” He grinned and pushed his door open. They walked side by side toward the paddock entrance, helmet bags in hand, trying to keep their heads down as questions began flying from every direction.

“Natalie! Mick! Just one question!”

“Natalie, is it true Max refused to debrief with you yesterday?”

“Natalie, any truth to the rumors you only got the seat because of your last name?”

Inside the gate, the rowdiness dulled slightly. Natalie exhaled slowly, tension leaking from her shoulders.

“We made it,” she muttered and exhaled breathlessly.

“Ah, ah, ah. You spoke too soon,” Mick clicked his tongue, catching sight of a familiar voice jogging toward them.

“Oh,” Natalie sighed under her breath. “Of course…”

“Hey, you two!” Ted beamed, breathless and far too eager. “Do you have a moment for Sky?”

Natalie exchanged a look with Mick, who just shrugged. “Sure, Ted. What’s up?”

“Well first off. How does it feel being here together? It’s been a couple years since you’ve raced in the same series, hasn’t it?”

Mick answered first, per usual. “I’m just excited to see what Nat can do. She’s been in my corner for years, even when I was struggling. It’s my turn to be a proper big brother now.”

Natalie smiled at him, her throat tightening at the sincerity in Mick’s voice.

“And Natalie. Your family’s been linked to Ferrari and Mercedes for decades. Was there hesitation when signing with Red Bull?”

The warmth from Mick’s sweet reply slowly drained. God, why must she always be asked the hard questions? Natalie kept her voice measured. “Of course we had conversations, but at the end of the day, Red Bull offered me the seat. It didn’t make any sense to turn down the best car on the grid.”

Ted nodded too eagerly and kept going. “I see. But in terms of viewership, you’ve done amazing things already. The numbers show an increase in male fans, and, well, there’s definitely been talks about you.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow and chuckled uneasily.

“Some people online are calling you the ‘Grid Girl of F1,’” Ted continued, smiling like he was relaying a compliment. “Like how they used to have those beautiful models on the track before a race. Do you like that nickname?”

Her smile froze and her stomach twisted in knots. “Grid.. Girl?” Natalie echoed.

“I mean, it’s cheeky, right? You’re the first woman to race fulltime in F1 and—”

“And this is what people are saying about me?” she interrupted. “That I’m a grid girl?”

Mick shifted beside her, blue eyes narrowing at his sister. He knew shit was about to hit the fan but before he was able to stop her, Ted continued.

“I’m just reporting what’s being said on social—”

“Did you ask Max how he feels being called attractive?” Her tone stayed level, but her gaze burned. “Did you ask Charles what it’s like to be considered ‘eye candy’? Or George, since he actually models for IWC?”

Ted’s mouth opened but nothing came out.

“No? Just me? Ha, funny,” she shook her head. “I’m just here to do my job. And as I’ve said before, that is to race. I don’t want to hear any kind of shit like that again. Especially from you, Ted.” Natalie spun around on her heel and stomped away, down the paddock.

“Uh… Sorry, Ted,” Mick stammered slowly, clearly choosing his words with care. “She has a race to win.”

Before the reporter could blurt out a response, Mick was already backing away, quickening his stride to catch up with his sister, who was already halfway down the paved road and showing no signs of slowing.

“You really went for it Nat,” Mick mumbled once he fell into stride beside her, breath puffing out with a low whistle.

Natalie didn’t look at her brother. “Was I wrong?”

“No, no, not at all,” Mick answered quickly and glanced over at her. “But you.. definitely didn’t leave room for interpretation.”

She gave a humorless laugh. “Good.”

There was a long pause as they walked, the Red Bull and Haas hospitality areas looming ahead. Crew members and paid influencers moved briskly around them, but Mick kept his sole attention on her.

“You know they’re going to spin that, right?” the older boy added gently. “I just.. I don’t know if you should’ve handled it like that...”

Natalie sighed, slowing down just enough to dig her phone out of her pocket. “Then that’s on them,” she remarked. “I’m not going to smile and nod when someone calls me a glorified object. I plan to be completely honest to everyone.”

Mick didn’t argue with her. Not because he agreed with how Natalie handled it, but because he knew it wouldn’t matter. There was no convincing Natalie to back down once her mind was made up. She was like their father that way, stubborn to the core. And far too proud. Never ever apologized just to keep the peace. Michael had always said defeat wasn’t just about losing a race, it was about compromising yourself. And Natalie? She couldn’t stomach it either. Whether she was right or wrong, once she locked into her principles, that was it. She was unshakable. And Mick, despite every brotherly instinct to protect his sister from the backlash he knew would inevitably come, understood that trying to stop her now would be a fruitless endeavor.

“‘Grid Girl,’” Mick echoed, tone sour. “What a load of shit.”

The siblings stopped just outside the Red Bull garage, a mechanic giving her a quick nod as he passed with a tire trolley.

Natalie turned to face her brother. “Mick, do you remember what Pa used to say? About people underestimating you?”

Mick tilted his head, puzzled. “I do… He said it was better when they did.”

Natalie nodded once, eyes sharpening. “Good. Because I think most of them still do.”

Mick was quiet for a moment. Then, with a small smile, he reached into the sleeve of his Haas pullover and pulled out a black hair tie. “You just have to show them they’re all wrong.”

Natalie reached up, tightening her ponytail with the band he’d given her. “That’s the plan, bru.”

“Well, well. The Princess finally decided to grace us with her presence,” Max tutted without lifting his eyes from his ever so interesting thighs as Natalie arrived at the Red Bull garage.

Natalie didn’t bother slowing her brisk stride. “Christian told me nine. And it’s nine o’clock.” She tossed the words over her shoulder and kept walking toward the back rooms, where her race suit was already laid out.

“If you’re not fifteen minutes early, Schumacher, you’re late,” Max called after her. She raised her hand in a lazy wave, her middle finger pointed behind her. Hypocrite.

By the time she reemerged, suited up and hair tied tight, Max was already standing with Christian at the strategy table. She crossed the garage with calm purpose, pretending not to notice the side eyes from a few crew members as she joined them.

Christian looked up, barely hiding his exhaustion. “Alright. You two know the drill. We’ve got a real shot at a 1-2 today if we stay clean off the line, nail the stops, and don’t do anything stupid.”

Max huffed a quiet laugh, tapping his fingers against the table like he couldn’t be bothered to hold it in.

Christian’s brows twitched. “Is there something funny?”

“No, nothing,” Max waved his head, eyes still locked on the computer screen. “Just admiring your optimism.”

Natalie’s gaze narrowed. “You got something you want to say, Verstappen?”

“Ah, it’s nothing new,” Max replied flatly, not even sparing the woman a glance.

Christian sighed, clearly weighing his patience against the likelihood of throwing his fist into the nearest wall. “I swear to God, you two need to cut the pettiness out—”

“Hey. You won’t hear a peep from me,” Natalie cut in, offering the most neutral smile she could muster.

Max nodded once. “When it comes to actual racing.. you know you don’t have to worry about me, Christian.”

Natalie leaned forward, palms braced on the edge of the table. “It would be a real shame if your front wing went missing, huh?”

“Alright, both of you. Stop,” Christian snapped, before Max could respond. “This is not helpful. This is not clever. This isn’t cute. This is why I have a migraine.”

Natalie raised both hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying. I’m focused on the team. Not my ego.”

Max finally looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Just a sidelong glance that said more than words ever could. “We’ll see, Schumacher.”

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