#what luggage do flight attendants use?

[maxivstappen]

THE GREATEST

[ part two / masterlist / requests are open ]

☽｡⋆ being in a relationship with a formula 1 driver like lando was hard, but not impossible. right? a story based on THE GREATEST by billie eilish. — lando norris x fem!reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst! pure angst, swearing. i’ll write a part 2 if requested 𝄞 4.4k words

❝ I’m trying my best to keep you satisfied ❞

Loving a formula 1 driver, let alone being in a relationship with one, wasn’t easy. But that didn’t stop you. In fact, you were sure nothing was ever going to be able to get in between the love that Lando and you shared, the kisses and the late night cuddles, the fun family dinners and the celebrations of his milestones. Everything was so perfect.

Yes, sometimes it’s hard to meet his standards, sometimes having you leave your own family to go attend races with him, or the blatant flirting he would still be partaking in at after-race parties, it was definitely a flaw of your relationship, but maybe you should’ve just worn something prettier or done your makeup in a different way, in the end it’s your fault if his attention wasn’t keen on you, right?

But no matter what, you were ready to do it for him. He’s your main priority, just as he should be. That’s what makes a relationship a functioning one, doesn’t it?

❝ Let you get your rest while I stayed up all night ❞

Of course you weren’t always his main priority, but who were you to judge him? He’s a professional racing driver, it’s not only a job but a complete career, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world. Having a world championship under his belt, that was more important than you. You just have to live like that, someone had to put in the work for the relationship. And because it definitely wasn’t Lando, it was you. But you didn’t mind, you’d do it all over again for him. Because you truly loved him, and to you, there was nothing in this world stronger than love.

So when you both finally get home after a long race weekend, you don’t mind doing the cooking and cleaning and laundry for him. You also don’t mind him going to sleep while you’re up packing up luggage for him and you to depart for the next GP. You would’ve appreciated some skin contact after such a busy and nerve wrecking weekend, but if he needed rest, then he should have it. You could rest another time, maybe during the flight or while he was spending time with his friends. You weren’t sure why, but Lando always insisted on not having you with him, always making up excuses why you couldn’t come even if in reality, you were at “home” trying to get used to the new place you’d have to stay at for the next week. Maybe you would’ve preferred being with him, or having him with you, or being in your home country with your loved ones he was yet to meet, but that’s okay. He had his fun with his friends and their girlfriends, that’s what mattered.

Maybe he didn’t want you there because, while he dated a girl he’s known since forever, a girl who knew him before his win and his fame and his career, all the others were dating models and successful women. Maybe you embarrassed him a little bit, so you were understanding when he told you to stay at home. His fans didn’t exactly love you either, so actually, it was really thoughtful of him not to have you by his side when he went out, because then his fan base and the news wouldn’t be able to pick at every little flaw you had, which you had surprisingly lots of, as the media told you.

The clock read 5am when you finally finished packing up the luggage and went to bed yourself. Well, not the bed but rather the couch, because Lando had just previously told you not to wake him if he was already asleep, and who were you to rip him out of his peaceful slumber when he had so much pressure on him the last three days? It was a little cold, but that’s okay. It was just kinda difficult to fall asleep on the small, hard, uncomfortable couch.

The clock read 8am when you woke up to prepare breakfast for him and you.

❝ And you don’t wanna know how alone I’ve been ❞

You knew better than to complain. Of course you felt a little bit alone in the huge apartments while he was away, spending time at the track or in the gym with his friends. How could you not? You were in a country you’ve never been in before, a country with no familiar faces or friends or people you could talk to besides the McLaren team and well, your boyfriend. But in the end, Lando showed you the world. And you had to be grateful for that. Even if he basically just pushed you around the world and then picked you up again when it was time to travel farther. And god, how you missed your family. And how deeply you wanted them to meet your one and only love, Lando. It was sickening, the need to be at home again.

One time after a long day of qualifying, you told Lando about your homesickness and that you felt a bit alone on this journey.

He got mad and told you if you wanted, you could just leave. He’s not keeping you here. 20 minutes after, you were stood in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you. Your response to “Are you actually fucking crying right now?” was a quiet “I was just cutting onions.”

His reply to “I thought we were eating together, I made dinner” was “I’m going out to eat with Charles and his girlfriend.”

You felt your heart break in that second, but he was just mad and not thinking straight. Outbursts are okay sometimes.

❝ Let you come and go, whatever state I’m in ❞

You spent the whole evening and night crying, putting his food in the fridge in case he was hungry later. The tears didn’t stop until he came back through the door, obviously a bit tipsy. He quickly wrapped his arms around you and told you how sorry he was, telling you that next time, he would take you with him to dinner. You knew it wasn’t true, and he knew as well.

At least you felt his touch again, his arms around you and his rough fingers caressing your cheek. That was worth the tears and the unappreciated cooking.

❝ Man am I the greatest? My congratulations ❞

Miami GP ‘24. Lando’s first win in his Formula 1 career. You were the proudest girlfriend in the world and you couldn’t wait to celebrate his win with him tomorrow, knowing he’d be busy partying with the others today. You’re in Miami, after all. And he has just won. Of course he had to celebrate that with his boys, surrounded by beautiful women and loads of alcohol. He would never cheat on you, but you were sure he wouldn’t mind being in the presence of some women who were gifted with a prettier face and body than you were. That’s okay, at least he doesn’t use you for your looks.

As he stood there on the highest step of the podium, smiling like a little kid who had just fulfilled his dreams, smiling like he once had smiled at you, it made you so incredibly happy and emotional and you couldn’t wait to finally see him and give him a big celebration kiss.

Once he was back in the paddock he told you to wait until the cameras were gone. You didn’t get a hug either. Not until you were back in the apartment.

At last. you got your hug and a kiss. As a goodbye before he left with Max.

❝ All my love and patience, all my admiration ❞

The day after, you woke up at 7, waiting for him to wake up while you were already up in the kitchen, baking a small cake with a “one” on it, all decorated in orange.

Even if you were left unsatisfied yesterday, that didn’t stop you from still feeling eternally proud of him, and proud to be able to call yourself his girlfriend. He was so dedicated to the things he loved, it was a pleasure to watch him go through life with his determination. Racing was his passion, there’s no shame in sometimes forgetting your girlfriend for it.

He finally entered the kitchen at 12, smiling at the small cake placed upon the dining table. “Surprise!” You said, and he immediately went to hug and kiss you, smiling just as brightly as he did on that podium. Moments like these were a reminder that he did in fact love you, and once again, that it’s all worth it.

❝ All the times I waited for you to want me naked ❞

You often wondered how the others managed to keep up their relationships.

Just recently you were having lunch with the other WAGs at a restaurant near the circuit. Originally, you didn’t want to come, still feeling insecure about what the media has to say about you, the ugly duckling around the most beautiful women in F1 history. However, they insisted. At the table the girls began talking about the party after Lando’s win, and how proud you must’ve been to see him on that podium. You loved talking about it, until you were asked why you didn’t come with him to the party. A lame excuse of “I was just tired and not feeling well” made the others look at you weirdly. How could she be so selfish and miss her boyfriend’s afterparty for that? Alex, Charles’ girlfriend smiled at you with a knowing look, but you pretended not to notice, feeling embarrassed.

The next topic at the table was rather intimate, and you wanted to puke right then and there. Were you really the only one who hasn’t been touched in so long, because there just wasn’t enough time between all the travelling and racing and exhaustion? Or were you just not good enough? Was it really your looks? Should you change?

You missed it dearly, the intimate times with Lando. The ones where he finally took care of you instead of the other way around, the ones where you could feel the connection between you two with all your senses. Was it your fault that these times stopped? Lando was so perfect, it just couldn’t be his fault.

Maybe you just had to wait until he wanted you again.

❝ Made it all look painless, man, am I the greatest? ❞

You didn’t show your feelings often, not your real ones. The times he had catched you crying for him on you knees were pathetic little situations he shouldn’t have seen you in. When asked, you denied. “Do you feel lonely in this relationship?” — “No.” “Does he make you cry often?” — “No.” “Do you think your relationship is slowly breaking apart?” — “No.”

Talking about it with the women around the paddocks or when you’d facetime your friends from home, you never once said anything bad about Lando. Never once complained about how he treated you or how he ignored your feelings and your endeavors. Not even your closest friends knew what was really going on, or maybe, you just didn’t know that yourself. In your mind, this was just a phase where his career just made it impossible for him to focus on you. Someday this would change. Sooner or later, it would change.

For everyone else, you had the greatest, perfect, flawless relationship. And you didn’t mind keeping that imagine up. For his sake.

❝ Doing what’s right without a reward ❞

And so it kept going. You making efforts, him abandoning you. No matter what you did for him, no matter how much heart and love you put in for him, it was left unappreciated. But that‘s okay, still. You were in a relationship, your only task was to love him, and you did. Because that‘s the right thing to do in a relationship, and for him, you‘d do anything. No matter if he appreciated it or not at the moment, you knew that, eventually, he would.

❝ And we don‘t have to fight when it‘s not worth fighting for ❞

At least you hoped that he would change someday, so far he obviously hadn’t, and it was slowly getting to you in a more serious manner. In a way that might worry you and the people around you, in a way you wouldn‘t forget. That one time you prepared dinner for the both of you and he went out with Charles and Alex instead, it was all forgotten in a matter of seconds when he apologized. But now every single interaction he had with other women haunted you, asleep or awake. No apology would help you actually think he would change his current treatment towards you, and as it seemed, he didn‘t care either.

There was no point in fighting anymore, no point in telling him how you feel whenever he walks out the door, leaving you alone with nothing but your awful thoughts. For fuck‘s sake, you left all you had behind to be there for him, and how does he show his gratefulness? He doesn’t, because he isn’t fucking grateful, and he couldn’t care less about you and your dumb feelings. He doesn’t care that you want nothing more than to finally be able to introduce him to your family, he doesn’t care that you gave up your own career for his, and he doesn’t care that while he’s treating you the way he is, all the people who knew the both of you and basically the whole internet was only picking you apart. Never him.

Oh you were such a shitty girlfriend refusing to kiss him in front of the cameras after his first win, but wasn’t he the one who pushed you away? And how could you miss the party that night, the party dedicated to your oh soo perfect boyfriend? Do you not care about him enough? Were you not proud? So many girls would trade their life for a day in your shoes, and you just didn’t appreciate that? What a disappointment you are to the WAGs, and what a disappointment you must be to Lando.

“Lando please, listen to me,” — “No, I’m done with your insufferable complaining all the time. I meant it the first time I said it and I mean it now, if you wanna leave, leave.”

❝ And you don’t wanna know what I would’ve done, anything at all, worse than anyone ❞

You would’ve walked through fire for him to love you again. For everything to go back like it once was. When he would brag about you to his friends and even in interview, when he took you to hang out with his friends and to parties, always keeping an arm around your shoulders so other guys wouldn’t even dare to look at you, when he was so eager to fulfill not only his, but also your dreams, wether that be a simple one, like him meeting your parents in your childhood home, or the greater ones, like becoming not only a good, but a great graphic designer. When he would watch you draw and perfect yet the smallest details with nothing but the growing admiration for you visible in his eyes. When he would kiss you good night and good morning, when he would ask about your day and passionately tell you about his. Back to when he had loved you. But now it was too late. All the things you had done for him, all the things you would probably still do, in the end, were for nothing more than a broken heart.

The sleepless nights. The nerve wrecking days. The painful parting from your family and friends. The abandonment of the life with him you had so desperately wished for.

It was all for nothing.

❝ I loved you, and I still do. Just wanted passion from you, just wanted what I gave you ❞

Last day before the summer break, the last race. And probably, the last day of him and you.

You were done with his shit, the sad look on your face visible to everyone in the room as you sat and watched the race from the McLaren hospitality, his parents seated next to you. Something felt very off, your usual happy and optimistic demeanor completely washed off, replaced by a dark, almost expressionless look. They sensed that something might have happened between Lando and you, but nobody dared to ask, too busy watching the intense race.

The outcome was disappointing, Lando finishing behind Max, the one he’d have to beat to win the championship. The team and the people inside the paddock and the hospitality clapped for him and Oscar anyway, with Oscar finishing second and Lando fifth. You cheered and smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You knew what was to come once you’d be back in the hotel. You were scared, sure it would be the most painful thing you’d ever have to do, putting all the things you’d done for him, all the things he’d done to you, in its shadow.

The celebration went well, again, no hug or kiss for you. You were sure his mother had even scolded him for it, but that wasn’t important anymore. You didn’t really care anyway, the media would run their mouths about you anyway, and Lando surely doesn’t give a shit either way. You desperately needed an answer, you wanted him to explain it to you. What had suddenly happen, what did you do wrong, for him to suddenly act like this? And if he fell out of love, then why couldn’t he just tell you?

Meanwhile Lando was busy celebrating Oscar‘s podium, taking pictures for the McLaren instagram account and whatnot, then doing the post race interviews.

He loved you, he really did. But he just didn’t see you as someone he wanted to spend this life with. He couldn’t imagine living his private life without you by his side, he wanted you to come with him to visit his family at home, to come with him when he would meet up with Max and the others during summer break or really, he wanted to just do nothing with you, nothing but share small kisses and cuddling on his couch at home, eating some homemade food and drinking a glass of wine together. At the same time, he thought that you didn’t fit in. Not in this life.

You met when he wasn’t yet the person he is now. When he was still passionate about so many other things other than just racing. Of course this had always been a part of him, but so were you. And now its just racing that occupied his mind, no single corner in his head left for his girlfriend. He knew it hurt you, but at the same time, part of what the media had to say about you was true. The first season he had spent with you by his side, the internet was already raging about how you weren‘t the typical WAG, and how they thought seeing you next to someone like a Kelly Piquet, you did seem a little weird. Lando didn’t want to be confronted with these opinions anymore, so instead of standing up for you, he decided to ‘hide‘ you. To not put you in the center of attention after a race to hug and kiss you, to just let you stand there and wait until you were inside where no one could see you. He also avoided reading anything the internet had to say about you, so the fact that his plan had only made you gain more and more hate, went unnoticed. Just like your complaints when he didn’t want to be seen with you after races at parties or even in a restaurant for dinner with Charles and Alexandra. Of course they had invited the both of you, and not only him. Lando came up with an excuse so he the paparazzi wouldn’t see you. The rumor that Lando and you have broken up after he was seen at dinner alone didn‘t seem to bother him either, but it did you. He thought you liked it this way, as he thought, without any hate comments about your looks or the way you’d dress compared to the others. He thought you appreciated not having to dress up for parties or the countless hangouts with his friends. He thought you cried that night after he was out for dinner because you cooked for him and he just went out, not that you cried because you felt not good enough for him to want you to come with him.

He really was stupid enough to think you were happy with all of this.

And while he was happy to be able to finally spend his summer break with you and only you, it all came crashing down when you were back in your shared apartment. Tears were forming in his eyes while yours were already streaming down your face as you yelled at him, telling him every yet so small detail that left your heart crushed and broken while he was busy „hiding you“, or as he explained it to you, „protecting you.“ this wasn’t protection, this was blatant ignorance. And finally in this relationship, you did something for yourself. You left.

Maybe it was miscommunication, or him refusing to communicate at all. But that didn‘t matter now, ‘cause now, it was over. No more kisses, no more cuddles and no more meeting friends or families. But most importantly, no more crying, no more sleepless nights, no more unappreciated support, no more hiding.

❝ I waited and waited ❞

Finally at home, your family had expected to see you with Lando by your side, and they were so very excited to finally be able to meet the guy their lovely daughter was head over heels for, using every chance she had to gush over him and how unbelievably proud she was of him. So when you stood there with puffy eyes and all your luggage placed next to you, they knew the tears you cried weren’t happy tears from finally behind home again. They were tears from saying goodbye to the life you were ready to spend with your boyfriend, who was now on the other side of the world.

You knew it was stupid, but you couldn‘t help waiting for him to reach out to you again. A call or a message, hell, you hoped he was as miserable without you as you were without him so that maybe Max or even Oscar had to contact you again. Despite all the times he had hurt you, you missed him so dearly.

But after months and months of waiting, you decided that there was no use in waiting. It’s over, and its for the better, it has to be.

It was gonna be hard seeing him again, once the summer break is over. Even if the love between Lando and you ended, your love for Formula 1 didn’t, and you weren’t about to give that up just for the sake of not having to see him. You‘d be in the stands or in front of the TV, he‘d be in his car or in front of the camera. No point in worrying. But still, the first few races, you watched curled up next to your best friend and your parents from home. It was so nice to finally be able to see everyone again, everyone you had to miss all these months you were away. Your dad and you used to always watch races together, and you were more than grateful to finally be able to do exactly that again.

❝ Man am I the greatest? God, I hate it, all my love and patience – Unappreciated. You said your heart was jaded, you couldn’t even break it, I shouldn’t have to say it … ❞

His instagram and twitter definitely make it seem like your broken heart doesn’t match his perfectly fine one. He seemed happier than ever, having fun with his friends at parties and driving around different towns with different girls. Seeing him was draining, but how were you supposed to never hear about him again when the entire internet was screaming his name? You wanted your life to finally feel easier now, but it seemed to only get harder.

You felt you lost your soulmate, while he only lost his greatest burden.

It wasn’t until you watched the first race after the summer break with your dad that it all came flooding back to you. Lando crossed the finish line first, and as the camera switched to show him get out of his car and rip off his helmet to kiss his new girlfriend that looked weirdly similar to you, surrounded by loud cheers, clapping and ecstatic, smiling faces, you realize that maybe, he really didn’t love you. And that he didn’t *want* to kiss you after his races, because it seems that if he had wanted to, he would’ve.

At the same time, even while standing on the highest step of that podium, Lando couldn‘t help but think about you, how stupid he was to treat you like a piece of shit when all you wanted was to be there for him after races like this one and most importantly, why the hell no girl he‘s been with after your breakup felt even remotely close to you. You were the greatest thing he‘d ever had, no trophy, no price would ever compare, and he managed to take it all for granted.

If he had just put in a little more effort, really, you could’ve been the greatest .

[fanaticsnail]

Seat Number Four

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 4,500+

Synopsis: You are stuck on an eight hour flight between two gentlemen you have never met before. Unaware of their prior history and dislike for one another, you attempt to relax and watch a new series your friend recommended. The series was a little more raunchy than you had anticipated, and you become a little uncomfortable in your seat between the two attractive men. Doflamingo reassures you your need is nothing to be ashamed of, and he would be more than willing to help you out if you allowed him to teach the younger blonde how to best please you.

Warnings: Doflamingo x cisfem!reader x Sanji, gendered terms used, Vinsmoke name used, modern au, NSFW, smut, MDNI, 18+, threesome, public sex, fingering, finger sucking, penetration, oral, (dub con masturbation by a guest appearance), Spanish Doflamingo, French Sanji, not very much plot, praise (reader receiving), degradation (Sanji receiving), bisexuality hinted (subtle Sanji x Doffy), Dom Doffy, Sub Sanji, switch reader, voyeurism.

Notes: based on this post by @/shamblespirate (I don't know if they'd like to read this or not, so I thought I'd spare them the debauchery) and the encouragement of @physics-of-one-piece. Sitting between Doffy and Sanji, two unhinged blondes on an 8 hour flight? What could go wrong?

Stumbling through the boarding gates and checking your luggage at the last minute should've been the sign that this eight hour flight was not going to go the way you expected.

This simple trip you needed to take for work was booked at the worst time. The only warning you received from your boss was a quick email stating the fact that you needed to pack your bags to attend a week long conference. No further context, no meetings, no chance for rebuttal, and simply no time.

What made matters worse is the fact that you were meant to be situated on the window seat of the last row of the plane. Closest to the bathroom, furthest from the food, and caged by the bodies of two complete strangers.

However, these strangers seemed to know each other, both sitting in pregnant silence as steam seemed to rise from the younger blonde’s ears in simmering rage. That same younger blonde, who seemed to take your absence from the final call for boarding as your consent, to sit in your assigned seat.

Not one to cause a fuss, you stored your carry on above the taller, tanned blonde in the aisle. His glasses did very little to conceal the heavy eye contact he made with your breasts as you had no choice but to bury him in the chasms of your chest as you stuffed your bag above him.

The first few hours of your early afternoon flight was filled with tension. While the taller man seemed to antagonize the younger blonde in Spanish, the younger would curse at him in French beneath his breath.

Blocking them both out with your headphones, you opened your traveling laptop as soon as the signs indicated it was safe to do so, and listened to music while finishing off your final projects for your boss. Each time you made to adjust your arms more comfortably, you would inadvertently brush your body against either of the two men. Uttering your apologies beneath your breath each time, you were not made privy to the conversation that was being made regarding your persons.

“She looks rather pent up, rubio. Do you think she'd appreciate my fingers stuffing her pretty cunt full-?” the snickers of Doflamingo were cut short by the younger blonde.

“-That is no way to treat a lady!” the hushed tone flew through the air like a kick to the chin, only seeming to draw up the older blonde’s smile wider. Looming over your shoulder as you commenced the beginning of a series, Doflamingo looked through the base of his glasses at you before looking over the rim at Sanji.

“You were the one to take her seat, mi pequeño. How’s that for treating a lady?” Sanji glared at him, offering no retort for the theft of your seat. It's true, he stole it from you the moment he noticed the close proximity to the Don of Quixote. Being an heir to the Vinsmoke dukedom had them both in similar social circles, and each time they met, Doflamingo would tease and torment him regarding his obsession with serving women.

Treating women with respect was a foreign concept for the other heirs, and Doflamingo seemed to enjoy tormenting him about it. In actuality, he admired that in him. Doflamingo loved his mother, and he often thought of her fondly. Sanji made those soirees entertaining and bearable, and Doflamingo wanted to return the favor.

“I think this lady would allow us both to treat her, if you catch my meaning,” Doflamingo chuckled, prompting Sanji to snap his head over at him. Before the younger could speak, Doflamingo halted him with an observation, “The series she seems to be watching has had a fair amount of love scenes and nudity. I don't think she was anticipating that in this series. Just look at her, sitting there all flustered.”

Slowly shifting his eyes over your form in a manner to not startle you, he noticed how flustered your face was. Eyes wide, heat radiating from your face, and slinking your body down into the seat, surely enough, you were fully fixed on the series. Although the screen was darkened, Sanji could clearly make out the shapes of two men and a woman indulging in intimacy on the screen.

Your breathing seemed to both slow and quicken with the elevation of your heartbeat, prompting Sanji’s eyes to darken on your blissfully ignorant form. Doflamingo's grin widened as he gained Sanji’s attention back onto him.

“Once the rest of the aircraft vessel falls asleep, I would love to teach you how to really treat a lady, Vinsmoke,” Doflamingo intentionally brushed his chest against your shoulder as he learnt closer to Sanji, “If she's willing, of course.” Hastily darting his eyes down to you and back up to Doflamingo, Sanji reluctantly gave his nod of understanding.

“Only if she's willing. I don't want to make her uncomfortable,” he uttered strictly. Noticing the soft shudder in your form as Doflamingo held himself against you, Sanji felt this wave of protection swirl in the pit of his stomach. As soon as he made to make a move to rally to your defense, you made yourself comfortable in the shroud of Doflamingo’s embrace.

“I think she'll be more than willing,” Doflamingo eyes you dangerously before reaching down to unplug your headphones from your ear. Snapping your head over to him, he hushed you with his voice dripping in smarmy sweetness.

“Easy now, mi querida,” he smiled genuinely, “The dining cart will be by shortly. Just making sure you didn't miss out on a choice.”

“Oh!” You smiled at him reaching down to the bags you stored beneath the seat for your wallet. “Thank you, mister…?”

“Doflamingo,” he gave you a polite nod of his head while closing his eyes at you. Gesturing with his chin, he drew your attention to the younger blonde, “The Frenchy is Sanji.” You turn your smile to the younger one, noticing his fluster seemed to grow and litter his cheeks in a soft blush.

“We couldn't help but notice the series you were watching,” Doflamingo continued, his fingers hooked beneath your chin and turning you to face his much taller body, “And I thought you should know, we're both very interested in seeing how it plays out. Care to remove the headphones from the port so we can hear too?”

“Oh, uh-...” a wave of bashfulness overcomes you at the knowledge that they were both witnessing a particularly graphic depiction of love making over your shoulder, “...a friend recommended the series. I didn't know what to expect, and they absolutely didn't warn me about the content.” Both Doflamingo and Sanji chuckled at you in their own ways, enjoying your company and getting a better read on your character.

“I don't think either of us mind a bit of graphic content in with our plot, do we pequeño,” Doflamingo asked Sanji, his smile quirking up at the corner, “You could use a few pointers on how to please a woman anyhow.”

“Speak for yourself, le vieillard,” Sanji retorted at him in a hastened quip, “I know how to please a woman just fine.” You shook your head and chuckled at the way they balanced one another. As the dining cart approached, Doflamingo placed his order and offered to pay for both yours and Sanji’s in synchrony. Both of you expressed your gratitude, enjoying being treated by the older man.

As the night wore on, your meals lay firstly improved by the younger blonde before consumed. You learnt they were both in high social circles, the younger had aspirations of becoming a chef as depicted in his satchel of spices. The older gentleman was from a reputable family that sold their fortune off to investors without his consent. He had to claw his way back up to the top, leading to an empire he molded for himself.

While they truly should've been in first or business class, both of them seemed to find entertainment in regular seating. You were grateful for their attention and company, and enjoyed being doted and treated by two blonde men who were eager to please in their own ways.

Once under the cover of nightfall, the meal trays left collected and napkins discarded, and the raunchy series had finished, you all spoke in hushed tones and gossiped about the characters. Talks of: “She deserved to find happiness,” or, “The way they filmed that was exceptional. Tasteful nudity with a hint of wanting. Simply beautiful,” and “She could've had both men if she played her cards right.”

Doflamingo’s larger form swooped ever closer, the shroud of his pink, feathered cloak caging your body in your seat as he leant in closer. Asking permission with his eyes, you nodded your head as you felt him press his lips against yours. Tongues darting out, Doflamingo reached forward and grasped at Sanji, tugging his wrists and placing them on your thighs first. Guiding Sanji's chin up to your neck, you felt the younger man latch and lick at your pulse as Doflamingo stole your breath from your lungs with his kiss.

Tilting your chin with his hand, Doflamingo made a trail with his digits down your neck and through the hem of your shirt to grip at your breast. Noseying through the material of your bra, he began softly rolling and lightly pinching your nipples beneath the cups. Consuming your soft gasps needily, he guided one of Sanji's hands to reach beneath your shirt to cup at your other breast.

Hands, lips, tongues and teeth overwhelmed you. Everything was too little and too much all at once. You felt your arousal soak through your panties as both men toyed at your thighs and hemline to your stomach. Simply no longer caring about professionalism and giving into their touch, you allowed them to push aside the material and undo your pants.

Breaking away from the kiss, Doflamingo’s hands brushed over your mound and down to toy at your glistening folds. A gasp was strangled in your throat as you attempted to stifle it. The heavy snores and breathing from the seats in front and beside you indicated you didn't disturb anyone of their slumber, but you didn't want to take the risk of being too loud.

Lowering himself down into your ear Doflamingo purred at you, “I am going to teach Sanji how to please you. I am going to have you cum on my fingers a few times before I let him try.” You gulped back a mouthful of nervous saliva as Sanji shot his attention between you both, “Is that okay with you, mi amor?” You couldn't pull your eyes away from the older man, nodding almost dumbly as if hypnotized by the promise of the pleasure to cum. Chuckling, Doflamingo presses a kiss to your jaw before licking a stripe up to your ear possessively.

“If you can't help yourself from moaning, I'll have Sanji stuff your mouth full of his fingers for you to suck on. Do you want them straight away, or do you want to wait?” He offered you Sanji’s hand raised to your lips, pressing the pads of his digits at your lips just as he sank his own further down to tease at your arousal. Whimpering, you immediately took Sanji’s fingertips in your mouth and swirled your tongue around them.

Sanji gasped, his own moans choking in his throat as he became caught up in the moment. Doflamingo shoots him a warning look, growling out a low order at him.

“And if you can't help but moan at the feeling,” Doflamingo gestured with his chin to your breasts, “Make your mouth useful and flick that silver tongue over her nipples. Let her feel that frenulum piercing you think your daddy hasn't noticed.” Sanji’s eyes went wide, the tension once again rising between them.

“I am not calling you daddy, le vieillard,” Sanji barked in a harsh whisper, prompting Doflamingo to chuckle as he began toying with the border and hood of your clit with his middle and unity fingers.

“I was referring to your biological father, niño. However,” he leans over your shoulder and scrunched his nose at the younger man playfully, “If the mood arises, I prefer ‘Papi’.” Tugging your body flush against his chest, hidden by the shroud of his cloak and broad shoulders, Doflamingo snaked his hand around your waist after drawing up the armrest between the seats.

Sanji pushed up your shirt, physically unable to contain the moan that flew from his lips the moment he noticed the ripple of your breasts bouncing free beneath the fabric. Immediately surging forward, Sanji latched onto your left nipple, swirling and mouthing at your puckered nipple and romancing it with his kisses. Doflamingo chuckled as you offered the same enthusiasm mirrored back to him.

Without further warning, Doflamingo prodded and pressed at your entrance with his fingers, curling and grinding them against your glistening arousal and collecting your slick over his fingers. Stifling your pretty mewls on Sanji’s fingers, Doflamingo curled his digits in you, using the pad of his thumb to roll against your clit as he began beckoning his hooked fingers slowly. Stimulating your clit and your g-spot with his hand, he leaned down to be in earshot of both you and Sanji.

“Look at you both. Both my sweet little ones are doing so well,” Doflamingo purred lightly, “Is mi reina sucking your fingers good, mi príncipe? Is she using her tongue like a good little reina, hm?” You bit back your moan, opening your mouth and demonstrating to Doflamingo how your tongue swirls and grinds against Sanji’s fingers. Sanji couldn't help himself, Stradling your thighs as you were tucked in Doflamingo's lap. Slowly rolling his hips against you, you felt how hard the young blonde was as he bucked his clothed cock into your thigh.

Chuckling, Doflamingo doubled down on his efforts to make you squirm. Holding you flush against his chest, he continued coaxing out soft mewls muffled by Sanji’s fingers in your mouth.

“Stop your petulant rocking, Vinsmoke,” Doflamingo whispered his soft tease down at the younger blonde, “This was about pleasing her. You think she wants your precum soaking her pretty thighs through your pants? How's that pleasing her?” Sanji gasped, the cool intake of air causing your body to tremble at the harsh cold. Switching to the other breast, Sanji whimpers against you as he attempts his hardest to not rock his steely cock on your legs. His eyes dart down to where Doflamingo’s larger hands pry open your walls and scissor his fingers in your pussy with expert precision. Doflamingo leans down and nudges Sanji’s fingers away with his forehead before swallowing your moans with his lips covering your own.

Hastening the pace of his fingers and thumb, perfectly coaxing and beckoning your orgasm from you, your body explodes in the quickened lightning of your ecstacy. It felt almost out of the blue, unprompted but not at all unwelcome. The scream from your throat was captured and muffled by Doflamingo’s lips as he chuckled into your mouth. Unintentionally bucking your hips up into his hand, Sanji whimpered as your thigh brushed with his cock. The vibration of his moan shot through your nipple and down to pool more of your glistening arousal over Doflamingo’s palm.

“My, my. That was a big one, mi amor. Is there another? Another one for me?” he uttered against your lips, prompting you to shake your head hastily to not have him stimulate you further. He clicked his tongue in a curt ‘tsk,’ before removing his hand from your pussy. Your walls contracted in the final pulses of your bliss in a bid to keep his digits within you as he pulled out.

“Aw, but she wants more,” Doflamingo purred at you, referring to your cunt twitching and throbbing after coming down from your orgasm. Sanji couldn't help himself, he hastily pushed Doflamingo’s face away from yours with his chin before meeting his lips with your own. He greedily dominated your lips, his desperation coming out in soft pants and barely audible whispers.

“Please. Please, I need you. Please?” Sanji attempted to relay, not entirely certain as to what he was asking. All he knew is that he wanted it, and the ‘it’ in question was ‘you’. Peeling back the button of his pants, the rosy tip of his pretty flushed cock immediately sprung forth. You had never seen such a beautiful cock before: all shiny and throbbing with need, the pearls of precum coating the small slit over the blunt tip. The slender shaft had several veins prompting the swell in desire, your own immediately rising just by his need alone.

He did not set out a plan in motion to fuck you in front of Doflamingo, but he was too far gone to not clothe his cock in the heat of your cunt after witnessing how truly beautiful you looked while keening in bliss. Doflamingo moved to chastise the younger boy, only halting as he witnessed you push your pants over your hips and down to your knees. Rolling onto your stomach to face your enshrouded breasts to Doflamingo, you arched your back and whispered to Sanji.

“Let me sit in your lap like this, sweety?” you moved your ass to sit with your back facing Sanji’s chest. His cock found its home between your legs, the tip brushing with your clit as he rocked into your firmly shut thighs. Each soft drag of his cock prompted him to sign out little gasps of pleasure. Doflamingo arched his brow as he witnessed you huff on Sanji’s lap as a wave of fresh desire swelled within you. Displeasure and unamusement grew over his face the longer you paid attention to the younger blonde.

Turning back your attention to Doflamingo, you motioned with your arms for him to come closer to you. Doing as you asked you reached up and gripped the open collar of his shirt and tug him into you. Lips finding his once more, your tongue sought out his own to perform against it in a sultry dance. Grinding the muscle over his own, you lifted your hips and lined up your slit with Sanji's knob. Just as you were sinking yourself down onto him, you halted your motion and tore your lips away from Doflamingo's.

“Can I suck your cock?” you asked the larger man, “It'll keep me quiet, I promise. Please? I want to please you too. Let me, Mister Doflamingo?” Doflamingo could barely contain the shudder that ran through his spine. With the soft quiver of his jaw, he gulped emphatically before popping open the front of his leather pants.

“And how is that going to keep the one you're sitting on quiet? Or me, for that matter?” he asked you with his brow quirked up. You aided him in releasing his cock from the confines of his pants by fishing it out with your hands. Taking the velvety shaft into your hands, your eyes bulged as you witnessed the sheer size of him. He was a lot larger than you in both height, and the girth of his cock. You were ever grateful that you opted to fuck the younger man as opposed to the giant in front of you.

Circling your hand at the base and peeling back his foreskin, you whispered up at him, “You're smart, I'm sure you'll think of something.”

Doflamingo physically gasped the moment he felt your breath hover over his cock, briefly meeting his eyes over Sanji as you sank your pussy and your mouth over both of them in unison. Sanji’s gaze was focussed on your ass as it rippled in gentle rocks down onto his shaft, while Doflamingo focussed his eyes on Sanji while trying not to give away how truly unraveled he was becoming by your lips.

Pressing soft, kitten licks over his blushing tip, you cleaned away Doflamingo’s first dews of pearlescent precum before swirling your tongue over the sensitive surface. Doflamingo choked on a soft gasp, snapping out of his hypnosis to clap his hand over Sanji's lips as he bottomed out into your gummy walls. The younger blonde couldn't help but moan, the larger hand stifling the majority of it to silence him with a frown.

“Listen, Vinsmoke. I know she feels-... f-fuck…” Doflamingo started, halting as he felt you take more of him into your lips. “...Fuck, mi amor, you take me so well,” he whispered his praise down at you before turning back his attention to Sanji, “You need to keep quiet. Need I remind you, Trafalgar and Eustass are sleeping in front of you? You want to wake them up by whining like a stag in rutt?”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @imveryyellow

Sanji snapped his eyes over at Doflamingo, glaring up at him through his lengthy blonde eyelashes. Instead of biting back or insulting the larger blonde, Sanji couldn't help but roll his eyes in his skull as you began to bob on his cock. Simply unable to control his moans, Doflamingo shook his head at Sanji before huffing out in agitation while plunging his middle and index fingers into the younger blonde's mouth.

An accusatory glare first flew from Sanji to Doflamingo before Sanji used the older man’s fingers as a gag to muffle his whimpers into it. Gently bobbing your ass up and down over Sanji’s lap, the Frenchman's hands grabbed needily at your hips and ass as he bucked up to match your quickened pace. With fistfuls of your ass clutched into his greedy hands, Sanji bounced you with eager and desperate thrusts as he began to chase his high with you on his lap.

Doflamingo arched his brow high at the young Vinsmoke boy, noticing how well he was licking and sucking around his fingers before his attention immediately snapped down to you. Circling your hand at the base of his cock, your fingers expertly began to massage his heavy balls while gently bobbing and sucking his large cock. Flattening your tongue over his frenulum, your saliva pooled from your lips and began to drip down onto his shaft and the chasm between his balls. Using the added lubrication, you kneaded and fisted at the length you couldn't take in your mouth, while drawing up your lips over his cock.

Meeting your eyes with Doflamingo's, you smiled at him while removing your mouth from his cock and using your tongue to rake over him. Doflamingo’s breath shuddered, his nipples hardening beneath the open shirt as he shielded as much of himself as he could from the slumbering Nico Robin and the flight attendants.

“Oh, fuck. Look at you making me blush. Just like that, senorita,” he reached down with his unoccupied hand and cradled and caressed your cheek. Guiding your lips back down to cover his tip and swallow his cock, he began slowly rocking his hips up to meet your pace.

Sanji's thrusts were getting erratic, his rapidly approaching orgasm bound it's way tightly in his stomach. He could barely take the amount of pleasure coursing through his veins. The added suspense of getting caught had his nerves shot and heart skittish, but the sound of your drooling cunt taking his cock so well drowned out any hindrances. He snapped his eyes open, looking panicked at Doflamingo as he felt his balls suck into his stomach, the pucker of his ass warning him that he was nearly past the point of pulling out.

Doflamingo arched his brow at the young man, slowly leaning down to you and whispering, “I think Sanji wants to cum, pretty thing. Can he cum in that beautiful pussy of yours?” Making eye contact with Doflamingo, you nodded while speeding up your bobbing and sucking over the larger man’s throbbing hardness. Giving you a soft wink, Doflamingo sighed out to Sanji.

“If you need to cum, cum, pequeño. But you make sure she does too, you hear me?” Doflamingo pressed his fingers down on Sanji’s tongue to serve as a soft punishment and warning, Sanji gagging over his fingers while chasing his high faster. Nodding, Sanji reached one of his hands down to find your clit and began teasing it with his middle finger. With the added hooking motion of Sanji’s beckoning fingers, you felt yourself whimper on Doflamingo’s cock as he zeroed in on your pleasure.

Gripping the back of your neck, Doflamingo began rocking himself more firmly into your mouth and feeling his own approach tease at the corner of his mind. Soft gasps fell from his lips when he felt you focus more on his cock rather than Sanji's, the blonde behind you using his hands to both lift you and tease at your clit while he fucked you on his lap.

A strangled groan muffled itself onto Doflamingo's hands while Sanji's ecstacy spurted from his cock in pretty ribbons of translucent white. Painting your insides the pearlescent color of his bliss, Sanji bit on Doflamingo’s hand to stifle more of his keening moans. Doflamingo hissed at the pain before his jaw fell slack, eyes rolling back and whispering curses in Spanish under his breath. Without warning, his cum spilled itself in hot waves over your tongue and down your throat. Swallowing through hollowed cheeks, you took his entire release down your throat, which caused Doflamingo to double down in softly singing to your praises.

At the arrival of both of the blonde men’s cum, your walls contracted and milked Sanji's cock of the final waves of his bliss. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave made to capsize a ship, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you buried your throat beneath the girth of Doflamingo’s cock to stifle your cries of pleasure. Doflamingo rode your face through overstimulation, grinding his fingers in and out of Sanji’s mouth while Sanji’s eyes weeped through the intensity of his ecstasy.

“G-Good, mi amor. So good, look at you. F-Fuck, just like that, senorita,” Doflamingo praised you beneath his breath. “F-Fuck, you're such a pretty fuck. So beautiful, baby.” You continued to ride through the waves of your orgasm as Sanji spat Doflamingo's fingers from his mouth to double over and slump over onto your back.

Tilting his head to the side and gazing from the corner of his eyes at the seat in front of him, a shift in movement caught his immediate attention. The rise and fall of an arm over their front, a soft bitten back moan clenched and stifled by the clamp of their teeth, the redheaded Eustass Kid couldn't help but spill his own orgasm into a pre-opened tissue in hot spurts at the knowledge of what was happening behind him.

Only glimpsing over for a moment, and seeing Doflamingo's hand dip beneath the waistband of your pants, was all Captain Kid needed to see before his own hand began to fish out his cock in front of the sleeping Trafalgar Law. Setting up a mirror to witness the situation behind him was easy enough, and rocking his hips to the rhythm you set fucking Sanji was enough to have his eyes darken and jaw shudder. Leaning forward after Kid scrunched up the paper, Doflamingo tapped at his shoulder to bring his attention around.

“Got any spare tissue paper, red head?” Eustass Kid froze in his seat, “I don't particularly want to wake the attendants, and it's the least you could do for enjoying the show.”

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

good guys, bad deeds

pairing: javi p x f!reader

cws/tags: ONLY ONE BED, javi is reader's dad's best friend, minimal physical description (reader has pussy and boobs and wears a tank top and panties), p in v (unprotected bc ... i'm sorry), oral f! receiving, accidentally cumming inside, author does not speak spanish but wishes she did and researched spanish dirty talk but still knows v little, periodic pov switch

summary: reader comes to visit javi in colombia and he only has one bed, so they decide to sleep in it together and shenanigans ensue. it's wrong but it feels so right...

a/n: for the roll a trope challenge! @burntheedges

wc: 3.9k

taglist:

@gothcsz @onlyasimp4-2dbitches @harriedandharassed @withonly-sweetheart

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Half the time Javi smokes inside out of stubbornness – he can still hear the voices of ex-girlfriends back in Texas telling him off for it. He has what he intends to be his last cigarette of the day outside because his apartment has begun to make him stir-crazy. With Escobar "behind bars", there's a brief lull in the DEA office. He's become so used to chaos that he thrives off it now.

A taxi pulls up and a young woman steps out - for better or worse, Javi knows a lot of the women who spend their nights on the streets of Bogota and Medellin. This woman is unfamiliar, though the look in her eyes suggests she knows him. He sifts through strings of drunken memories, but can't place her.

Until he hears her voice. "Uncle Javi!" she says, flying into his arms which are not yet open to catch her. He's a DEA agent, a young woman should not be strong enough to knock the wind out of him but you get pretty damn close.

He'd completely forgotten you were coming – but, even if he'd remembered, he wouldn't have recognized you. God, how long has he been away?

You look older. That's what he tells you later, trying to put it as matter-of-factly as possible, trying to sound neutral and indifferent to the fact that a beautiful woman is standing at his doorstep like a baby in a basket, helpless in a foreign world, brought by cab rather than stork.

Javi carts your luggage up the stairs and little does he know that you're practically salivating over the sight of his broad shoulders, his strong arms that could just pick you up and throw you onto the bed–

"Are you planning to stand there all night?" Javi's voice snaps you out of your daydreams.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. I'm so tired, I'm practically falling asleep standing up."

Jet lag can do a number on anyone, but it doesn't help that the flight attendants were happy to provide you with alcohol. You try to act sober, but Javi's a cop, he's trained to call your bluff.

You stumble through the doorstep and you hear him stifle a laugh. "Are you okay? You look drunk."

"I'm not drunk. I had a few drinks on the plane, but I sobered up at the airport while I was waiting for you to come get me."

You watch guilt wash over him, and you almost take back your statement, but you don't. It's a rare opportunity to see Javi flustered, and even if it's not for the ideal reason (in your dirty mind), you'll take it as consolation for his forgetfulness.

"I'm so sorry. I've been so wrapped up in everything here that I completely forgot you were coming."

You shrug it off, not committing to accepting his apology but not wanting to prolong his suffering either. God forbid a man has to take accountability for his actions.

He follows your gaze which travels across the living room, through the kitchen, as far as your eye can see from the entrance where you stand. "I would've tidied up if I'd known I was having a guest."

"I honestly expected worse."

"You think I'm a slob?"

"No, you're a man – a single man – and the apartment of a bachelor is never a clean one."

"Who says I'm single?"

"Your ring finger."

"Maybe I have a fiancée."

"If you did, I don't think you'd be so defensive."

"I like being single."

"I like being single too."

He moves swiftly away from the relationship status conversation. "Unfortunately, I don't have a guest room, so you'll have to sleep on the couch if that's okay…"

"You're making your guest sleep on the couch?"

"Oh, I assumed you'd be more mature."

"I am mature. That's why I'm asking politely and not throwing a tantrum."

"Fine, mija. I give up. We're both too tired to argue."

"We can take turns, so you can have your bed tomorrow."

Taking turns means Javi shares the bed with you.

He strips himself of his shirt and you struggle to keep your composure. You have a better view of his broad chest and big arms with him shirtless and you can see the trail of hair from his belly button leading down to the waistband of his sweatpants, and god, how you want to find the end of it. A happy trail, they call it, but what it makes you feel is something different than happiness, something impure.

"What?" He catches you staring. "It's hot as fuck in here, and it's my room. I sleep shirtless. Take it or leave it."

Take it. You want him to say it to you in a different context.

"Whatever. You better not try anything funny."

"What is that supposed to mean? Do you really think I'm that type of guy?" He seems genuinely offended that you think of him that way.

And, in truth, you doubt he's like that, which is why your fantasies about him 'trying something funny' are a bit unrealistic, but you let them run wild regardless.

"Chill," you say, "I'm kidding."

The truth is that you'd be perfectly fine with any funny business Javi would be willing to offer you. But it's late and it's your first night as a guest in his apartment, so you decide not to try to provoke him.

You fall asleep soon after you tuck yourself in beside him.

It's been quite some time since Javi has been forced to share a bed with someone. Outside of women who stay over - and women rarely stay after the act is finished — he sleeps alone. You don't snore or drool on him which was a positive as he's been with women who did both of those things. He's known sleep talkers and sleep walkers — Lorraine was the former. It isn't until the middle of the night when he's awoken by your stirring that he realizes how cumbersome it will be to sleep next to you. It's a queen-sized bed, which should fit two, especially when one of those two is a young woman. So, why are you practically on top of him? You've managed to roll over, sprawl out, and curl back up to restart the process. You always end up further on Javi's side, so he continues to inch away until he is forced to be up against you lest he fall off the bed and onto the floor.

He tries to sleep as best he can, and prays for the sun — something he's never done before. Javi is hardly a morning person. But, he wakes up again before his alarm sounds. There is one glaring issue, he finds.

It's not his fault that your ass is up against his crotch and that every movement you make inadvertently teases him. It's so unfair that you make him this hard when he can't jerk off. He can't because you're here. Doubly unfair since you did this to him. It's not your fault that you're pretty — too pretty for your own good, whether Javi ends up giving into the primal needs inside him or you end up with another man. Thinking about that gets him harder - not because he likes to think about you with another man, in fact, he hates it, but jealous fuels the fire inside him. If he let his possessive feelings towards you overcome his rationale, he could fuck you the way you deserve, and he's sure you'd enjoy it. You need it, whether you know it or not.

Or, maybe it's just projection, maybe hope. Pretty women make him weak. God forbid you find out and use it against him. Javi's the type to risk it all - money, career, even his life. Not just for pussy - because it's not about that anyway, it never has been. Pussy is easy to come by - in fact, if he gathers enough saliva in his palm and closes his eyes he can almost replicate the feeling by himself. But being with a woman, all soft skin, strangled moans of his name, nails piercing his skin, needy kisses, teeth, tongue, and heartbeat - he hasn't been able to fully satiate that need ever, and he doesn't remember a time before he was a tenderhearted soul in a soldier's body.

Javi could get himself off, it wouldn't take long, but the shower is in the en-suite so he'd wake you up if he turned on the water. Plus, it'd feel wrong having you in the next room while he did such a thing even if he tried not to think about you while he did it, even if you slept in blissful ignorance, pure and untainted by the knowledge of Javi's teeth digging into his fist to muffle a moan as he shudders through his orgasm.

He wasn't thinking about you until your body was pressed up against his own. He doesn't think of you like that, or at last, he didn't. Not before you came to Bogota, appeared in front of him so grown up that he hadn't recognized you at first. You were a girl the last time you stood in front of him, he remembers having to kneel to hug you when he said goodbye. Time has passed and you're fresh out of college now. A woman, not a girl.

He's somewhere between thinking and dreaming when you spring up in bed with a gasp, and on instinct, his hand flies to the bedside table to search blindly for his gun. Until he realizes it's just you. A harmless girl.

Maybe not completely harmless.

He places his hand to his bare chest as he breathes slowly, trying to calm down.

You look like you're on the verge of tears and it pains him. "I'm so sorry, Uncle Javi."

"Mija, don't worry," he says, rubbing your back to calm you, "You just startled me."

"I just had a bad dream," you tell him.

You used to have those when you were younger, he thinks, now I have them too.

"It was just a dream, you're safe." He lies down and nods for you to lie back down too. "I'll keep you safe," he says quieter.

You move closer, facing him, and he lets you because he knows you need comfort more than anything. Javi resists the urge to hold you, worrying you might feel his hard—on through his sweatpants.

He stares - no, gazes - at you for a moment, unsure of what to say. You meet his eyes with a similar look - inquisitive, though you're more curious than he is. Javi feels dread in the face of what he fears is unfolding. You see an opportunity where he sees a warning. Do not go any further, it says. But he hasn't done anything.

Except for lie down next to you rather than taking the couch, and sleep shirtless rather than sweat through a t-shirt. He's more angry at himself for his reluctance to admit that this is a self-indulgent choice no matter how he flips it. Either he's a bad host or he's a bad man.

The answer becomes clearer when you lean in and he closes his eyes instead of pulling back like he should. He doesn't want to embarrass you, he decides. Better not reject you, at least not like this, he should let you down easy. Which he'll certainly do after kissing you.

It's so unfair, Javi thinks. He'd forgotten what it feels like to kiss someone who wants him. Women want his money, at best, his body. Often, both. But Javi is the type of man who wakes up at sunrise so he can slip out before he has to man up and have an awkward conversation over coffee.

Cupping your cheek gently is certainly wrong but so is kissing you, and he's already doing that. He should kiss you sweetly, make this a little more dignified, salvage what's left.

Your lips are soft and it's not your first kiss unless this is an incredible stroke of beginner's luck. Hungry, yet teasing, forcing him to reveal his own desire when you draw back a bit and he has to be the one to reach for you.

He notices you drifting closer to him and before he can make things much, much worse, he snaps out of it and pulls back entirely.

"Querida, we shouldn't… It's not right," he says because he can't say he doesn't want you.

"Why? What's wrong with it? We're both adults, we're sober, we're single…"

"You're much younger than me, and your father is my friend."

"Age is just a number, and what my dad doesn't know, can't hurt him."

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, playing the whole thing off like he isn't grappling with conflicting feelings inside.

"You said you'd never lie to me, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Tell me the truth, then, do you want me too?"

"You can't ask questions like that, mija."

"Why, Uncle Javi?"

"That's why. I cannot sleep with someone who calls me 'Uncle Javi'."

"It's not like we're actually related."

"I know that. This wouldn't even be up for discussion if that were the case."

"So it's up for discussion?"

"No. No, it's not. We're not doing it."

He stands up abruptly, does a terrible job of adjusting himself in his sweatpants, and walks towards the bathroom.

"Where are you going?"

"Taking a shower."

"It's past midnight."

"Can a man not take a shower at night?"

"At least be honest and say you're going to jerk off."

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, putting his head in his hands. Then, he turns to you, "I'm going to jerk off. Happy?"

"Can I come with?"

"No. If I wanted you to be with me, I'd just do it in bed."

You pout, disappointed, and he thinks that's your last resort. He nearly lets his guard down as his hand reaches the bathroom door, reaches safety.

But, in a voice that's so familiar yet so foreign coming from your mouth, you ask, "You usually do it right here?"

He stares at you, his body slumps a bit like he's melting as he watches you play with the straps of your top, like you might take it off.

"Javier," you say, seductively.

"Don't do that to me…" he pouts, pleads. He doesn't want to give in.

"I just think we could have a really good time. I mean, I bought these panties for you, but I guess if you don't want to see them, maybe I can find another DEA agent who wants to…"

"I'm not letting you go and whore yourself out to my coworkers."

"Why not? You don't want me."

"I didn't say that. I said 'it's wrong', and it is."

"I guess I can see how it might be wrong from some angles, but I really like you, and I just want to know that you like me back — I just want to be wanted, to know someone thinks I'm good enough."

It's so unfair. Javi has to assume you're acting, but you're doing a great job because your teary eyes are filled with emotion — maybe it is real, he thinks. And that's what lands him back in bed with you.

"I like you," he whispers, "and you know that. I think a lot of guys like you… they don't deserve you, but trust me when I say you're more than wanted."

"I don't want any of them. I only want you." You look up at him with those pleading eyes that have always worked.

"I'm not a good man." he sighs.

"I want you anyway."

"I'm not a good man because I can't help myself."

You look at him with hope shining through you.

"Before we do anything I need you to know that I love you to death but this is sex, not marriage, not a relationship - I want to make you feel good tonight, but tomorrow we go back to normal, got it?"

"You act like you're taking my virginity. I'm not that innocent little girl anymore. I'm not expecting you to fall in love with me, I just want you to fuck me."

He has the knee-jerk instinct to tell you not to swear. but the scowl of disapproval quickly turns to a smile. You're not that innocent, are you?

You grab his face and whisper, "If I'm going to have casual sex anyway, isn't it better if I do it with you?"

"Oh, so now this is all 'casual sex', and I'm just doing damage control by fucking you?"

"My dad asked you to keep me safe, right? If I'm bed with you, I can't get in bed with any other potentially dangerous men."

"I'm always gonna take care of you." he says, dipping down to kiss your neck.

"Javier." It's a drawn-out plea for something, anything. It's the simultaneous gratitude brought about by the relief that washes over you when he agrees to this but the carnal frustration at the anticipation of him, heightened when you feel his erection pressing against your thigh.

You can tell he's big - though, the tightness of his pants leaves little to the imagination regardless. Nervousness strikes you because he's Javi. He thinks you don't know how much of a womanizer he is. As if you've ever been stupid enough to believe the marks on his neck were just razor burn or that he had no idea where the pair of panties in his glove compartment came from.

You don't dare ask how many women he's slept with, you don't need to know the number to know you have a laundry list of competition. You won't be his best - that much you know - still, you can't be his worst.

All your worries move to the background when you remember that Javier is kissing you, tugging down the straps of your top, kissing your neck, your collarbone, your chest. Your heart swells at his gentle devotion, but your core aches for him as your much dirtier fantasies flit around your mind.

You would never have guessed Javier would be into this type of sweet and slow sex. Most men you've been with want you in a way that feels more perverse, more distant.

Javi lets his hands wander along your skin, he teases you and marvels at your reaction. He doesn't just grip you, he holds you.

You shouldn't be as surprised as you are when he grabs your ankles and pulls you to the edge of the bed before kneeling with his head positioned between your thighs.

"You said you wore these for me?" he asks, fingers toying with the waistband of your underwear.

"Yeah. I remember finding a similar pair in your car once, and so I thought you might like these."

"You'd look good in anything, but you did a good job picking these out. Definitely my taste."

"You can keep them."

His eyes flicker with something, something you've been dying to see. "What are you going to wear?"

"I have more, like, ever color."

"They're all for me or just these ones?"

"All for you." The statement holds greater weight than the thin lace fabric, and surely he knows that.

There is desire in his eyes when he flicks his tongue along your folds for the first time.

Javi decides that if he's going to indulge, he shouldn't indulge half-heartedly. He should not be doing this, but you deserve to feel good. Someone else should do this for you, but no one else is here. It's Javi's responsibility to take care of you. He's just helping you sleep, that's what he tells himself when he gets a taste of you and knows he's so incredibly and utterly fucked. He groans into you, and you return a prettier sound.

He's too old to be this hard, this hungry for a woman. The most unfair part of it all is that Javi doesn't need sex, he doesn't need the touch of a woman. He needs you. Forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest.

Your voice shakes when you say his name, warning him of your impending orgasm. He massages your hipbones as if to say, "you're going to be okay, just let go". You look embarrassed when you come down from your high so he makes a point of staying between your legs, locking eyes while his tongue gathers every drop you give him, and smiling when he wipes his lips with his thumb.

The predicament lies between his own legs. The question still stands stiff and painfully hard. Should he allow himself the pleasure of fucking up? Of fucking.

You notice his hesitation. "Javier, I want it too, you know?"

"It's still a mistake."

"Everyone makes mistakes… maybe you could just allow yourself to make one - for me."

Making one mistake surely isn't enough to make you a bad person.

"Don't you ever get tired of being the good guy?"

He smirks at you. "Yes. Yes, I do."

Patience is a virtue, and not one you have.

"I'll do it for you," you say, tugging down his sweatpants, watching his cock spring out.

"Puta madre," he says, as you stroke his length, running your finger over the tip, kissing it with the pad of your thumb, "if you keep touching me like that I'm not gonna last."

Javi stifles his curses in English, ultimately ending up settling for Spanish at the rare moments he can find words at all. Clearly he forgets that you speak enough Spanish to understand what he's saying, but you let him think you don't because the things he says are even sexier than what he says in your daydreams.

He drags the head of his cock along your folds, coating himself with your wetness.

"Que cosa tan linda," he says under his breath, marveling at your body, fully naked in front of him.

"Please," you whine, and he nods, silent but committed.

"Mira como me toma," he says as he eases inside you finally.

He keeps the rhythm of his thrusts slow until you beg for him to go faster. Harder, deeper, more, more, more.

"¿Te gusta eso eh?" His voice is thick with lust, he's not even talking to you, not really, just running his mouth unable to help it.

Soon, it's nothing but curses through gritted teeth accompanied by the slick sounds of your arousal.

"Quiero que me hagas tuyo" you finally give up the game when he's about to cum.

It's not the fact that you want to be his that takes him over the edge unexpectedly, it's the way you say his name and he knows you already are. You hold onto him for dear life, locking your legs around his hips and forcing him deeper, your inner walls flutter around him, and he is helpless against the tidal wave of ecstasy that crashes over him.

He's dizzy after you suck the life out of him, but his rational mind returns when he pulls out and watches cum drip out of you.

Javi panics, momentarily considers every horrible possibility and every solution - will he have to fake his own death and leave the country? But your soothing touch as you gently pull him closer, your relaxing voice accompanying it, calms him.

He buys you the morning after pill and feeds it to you along with the best breakfast he can conjure up as an apology.

You thank him, but just before he thinks he's in the clear, you say, "if you really wanted to make it up to me, you could eat your breakfast in bed…"

He's about to say 'no', but you wink, and instead, he says, "Fine. But just this once."

spanish translations:

Que cosa tan linda = what a pretty thing

Mira como me toma = look at how well it takes me

¿Te gusta eso eh? = you like that eh?

Quiero que me hagas tuyo = i want you to make me yours

this post helped me lots!!

[xxblairexxss]

Duty

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x pregnant!reader

Theme : Angst / fluff

It reached 3.4k before I could even do the climax so I’m just gonna drop this one first or else I’m gonna rush the next part and ended up ruining everything.

Google result! Let’s hope this is accurate. I spent hours on website trying to find this. PROM is a shorten for premature rupture of membranes!

Requested!

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Charles was ecstatically happy to start the new season with the brightest hope because of how he ended the previous one as the second place in the World Driver Championship, even more elated when this was his first time starting the new season as a new father-to-be but it was undeniable that Charles had been struggling since the first race.

He seemed to be developed a new trait as well as upgraded some of his old ones ever since your pregnancy. Your first pregnancy. He had asked you to stop accompanying him to races which resulted to a fight, and you claimed that he didn’t need your support anymore. He eventually gave in but with conditions where you needed to stay by his side all the time or if he was occupied, he would force Joris to stay with you. When you got into your second trimester, he had again, asked you to to stop attending the races but you still wanted to, so he gave in again but only allowed you to attend the qualifying and race day so you started missing his practice day, which caused the media to question about your absence and Charles had to reassure everyone how you had been doing fine, but he had to be stricter on you to avoid any unwanted accidents. When you entered your third trimester, he didn’t allow you to attend any of the races at all and this time, he didn’t give in, no matter what.

Even so, he never allowed you to be left alone. You would either be at his parent’s house, your parents’ house, or he would bring either one to your house.

No matter how much you reassured him.

“Charles, can I just stay here?” Your voice trailed off, already feeling gloomy from what he was gonna say. You were sitting on the bed, looking at your husband going in and out of the room packing his stuffs before his flight in a few hours.

“What was it, baby?” He walked back into the room, placing one of his perfume into the small luggage bag and cocked his brow, waiting for you to repeat what he had missed.

“I don’t want to go to my parents house this weekend.”

He heaved a sigh of defeat and it made you regret for bringing up the topic. “You know I’m doing this for your safety, right? Honey, I won’t be here for a week, that’s long enough. What if something happened?”

“I know but I’m not due for another month.”

He took your hand in his, thumb softly grazing on your knuckles. “You are already 35 weeks. I can’t take the risk of leaving you alone. The doctor told us you need to be careful as they suspected PROM, no?”

“But–“ You jutted your bottom lips, looking away when your husband tilted his head away, eyes squeezing shut when you tried to argue even more.

“But what, honey? Go on, I’m listening.”

“Y/F/N wanted to come over with her little girls this weekend. I just wanted to do a little movie night and bake some cookies with them.” You felt Charles moved his shirts that you were folding in front of you away and skittered closer, seeing how you refused to look at him now.

“Can I see your pretty face?”

He beamed, feeling his heart caught the eternity’s mist as you looked up to him with teary eyes. “My crybaby.” He had realised since you entered your second trimester, your hormones seemed to be ramped up and you had been in a constant mood swings and crying spells, crying at almost everything. He had told his mom, worried about it as he wasn’t sure why. Even after he talked to you a lot about it and she said it was normal, but it sure took him a while to get used to it.

“Charles..” You hit on his arm and he chuckled.

“Alright, alright. Just this one time, okay? Make sure to pick up my call and let me know if it hurts anywhere.”

“I love you!” You exclaimed and threw your arms around his waist, head leaning against his chest.

“I’m serious, Y/N. Let me know if anything happens. Don’t make me regret my decision. Promise?”

“Promise!”

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Few days passed, Charles got the podium for the second time in a row and you had been eagerly waiting for him to walk through the door. It was a shame you weren’t there to hug him as soon as he hopped off the fast car but he’d made sure you didn’t feel left alone as he called you right after, even mentioned you and his unborn daughter in his interviews.

“Congratulations! Two podiums in a row!” You threw you arms in the air and hopped, stopping when Charles held your waist.

“Careful, love.” He brushed his lips on your forehead, letting it linger against your skin. “I missed you, and you too, little one.” He bended down and stroked on your middle.

“I wanted to bake you muffins last night but I fell asleep because your child won’t stop kicking me.”

He placed his arm around waist, pulling you close as much as he could, another hand on the side of your belly. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. We can bake muffins together now that I’m home?”

“Are you tired?”

He pulled a funny expression and nodded impatiently. “I am worn out, baby. Total knocked out.”

“Can you buy me the matcha ice cream?”

“I bought you three tubs before I left, didn’t I?”

“I–“ You were going to tell him your excuse but ended up sucking your lips into a thin line, pulling away to pinch your husband on his arm. “Don’t look at me like that! I’m gonna cry!”

He winced and recoiled, hand leaving your belly to stroke on his waist where you just pinched. “Ow! What did I do?”

“You looked at me as if it was impossible for someone to finish three tubs of ice cream in one week! See? You are doing it again! I hate you.”

“What do you want me to do?” His mouth widen in disbelief and brought his palm up to cover his eyes. “Is this okay now?”

“Better.” You giggled and went back hugging his waist. You definitely missed hugging him without your belling getting in the way but it won’t be that long now. “Can you still get me the ice cream?”

“Of course, love. I’ll be right back.”

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Charles has been home for a week and day by day, you could see how he got progressively quite. He didn’t ignore you, didn’t raise his voice at you, he never did. He was still the husband that you wished every woman would have but he had been looking as if he was keeping a lot to himself.

“Charles?” You heard him hummed in response, his face is buried against your neck, his arm draped on your belly as you played with his hair. “Are you okay?”

“Why did you ask?”

“I feel like you are worrying about something. Talk to me, honey. What’s wrong?” He went silenced, his hand left your belly as he pulled away.

“I don’t know, Y/N. I’m just scared? No– worried. No– I’m not sure. Probably both.”

You placed your under your round middle as you turned, scooted facing your husband who looked like he was in a deep dejection. “Was it because of this weekend?”

“Yeah. I just can’t afford to disappoint them again, love.”

“How do you know you were gonna disappoint them?” You placed your hand on his neck, thumb brushing against his stubble. “Hm?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like it? It’s not the first time, honey.”

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself. It’s not even the race day yet but you are already assuming the worst. Give yourself a chance to prove yourself. I know my husband very well and I know he can ace everything thrown in his face.”

His lips turned into an upwards curve as he bended down to kiss your belly, hand patted on the side of it. “Mommy really knows how to cheer daddy up, doesn’t she? How I wish you could come too, baby.”

“We can come! Right, baby?” You replied, your hand strokes on the other side of your middle, voice filled with a hint of hope.

“No. I didn’t actually mean it, honey. It was hypothetical.” He straighten his body, and you saw the frown he always made whenever you told him you wanted to come to any races.

“But I really want to go..”

“You know what my answer will be, don’t you? I’m not gonna change it this time, Y/N.”

“This could be my last time attending your race before she comes. I don’t want to stay in the house. It’s getting boring and I have nothing to do.” You had been waiting for him to look at you as perhaps, there could be a tiny expectation where he would change his mind but he didn’t. “You’ll never understand.” You pulled your hand away, standing up to leave the living room.

“Baby,” He called out and of course, he got ignored. He knew it and wasn’t even expecting for you to reply. “Hear me out first. Y/N–“ You slammed the door and locked it before he could pushed it back. “Okay, locking the door is not it, honey.” He knocked and waited, but he didn’t hear anything. “Y/N, open the door.” Nothing. “Baby, please.” Still nothing. “Open the door or I’m gonna eat your ice cream. I’m serious.”

“You are mean.” He bit his lips, trying to hold his smile when you opened the door a second after, glaring at him with your arms folded.

“Oh? I’m the mean one when you just slammed the door and locked your husband out of the room? Baby, can you at least hear what I was gonna say?”

“I know what you’re gonna say. You don’t have to say it to my face.” You rolled your eyes and walked back to the bed.

“I thought you know how to read my mind. I was gonna ask you to be my date this Sunday but I think I got rejected.” He was going to stand up, pretending to be walking away but you gripped on his arm.

“Oh my god! Really? Can I really go to the race?”

“Last one before our little girl arrives.”

He gave in, yet again.

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You had been feeling cramps ever since the weekend arrived. Your back had been hurting since your third trimester but it hurt even more these days, especially when you laid down. You could barely fall asleep even when you tried to sleep sitting against the headboard so you always woke up feeling all worn out which caused you to lose appetite. Even your head hurt due to the lack of sleep.

Charles had realised you were somewhat different but every time he asked you, you would just brush it off, saying that it was normal for pregnant women to feel like this nearly the end of the pregnancy. He realised you didn’t ask him to buy anything that you craved for which you used to every single day. You had been really quite. You only took a bite out of your meal only when he caught you but every time he asked if you were fine, you would always say yes, telling him to stop worrying. He had been contemplating if he could skip practice day, in any way possible but you got so mad at him for “being silly”.

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You were sitting in front of your dressing table, contemplating about which scent you should go with when your belly went tight, as if going through another cramp and it made you winced in pain. Your body slightly bended towards your middle.

“Honey? Are you done?”

“Y– yeah, I’m almost done.”

“Hey.” Charles peeked his head and strode to where you were sitting, crouching down so he could see your face. “I know I’ve been asking you this for like the million times but are you really fine? You are worrying me, love. You don’t have to come if you are not feeling well.”

“I am fine! I am just excited. I promise.”

His hand went to your round belly and softly rubbed on it. “I saw your face scrunched up earlier. Is she giving you a hard time?”

“She just has been kicking non stop. She’s probably too excited to see his daddy wins the race.” You placed your hand on his and cackled.

“Oh, I’m not sure about that, baby.”

“You can, honey! We’ll be rooting for you!”

“If that’s what my girls wished for then I guess I could make it comes true. P5 to P1 doesn’t sound hard, does it? We need to go. Are you all set?” He stood up straight and pinched on your cheek. “You look beautiful, baby.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile from the compliments. “Liar. Can you help me up?” You stretched out your arms for him to pull you up.

“Ready? 1, 2, 3!” His body was slightly slanted to give you enough space when you stood up. “I’m not lying. My wife is so beautiful I almost mistook her as an angel.”

“Whatever.”

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They were expecting rain to come since it had been raining during both practice and qualifying round but it felt like the sun was just a hand fist away from your head the moment you stepped out of the car. The media had to make it worse since this was your first appearance in the paddock in your last semester where you looked undeniably pregnant now. They had to block your way when you just wanted to sit down as fast as you can, even after Charles had rejected every request. His arm never left your waist. He even shook his head to people who asked to interview him regarding the race, telling them that he would come back after he sent you to the Ferrari’s hospitality.

“Here’s your drink. Oh, and I also got you some chocolates because it’s hot and you always needed something sweet. Some vitamins which I’m not sure if you ever need them but, you know, just in case. And– “

“Charles, I’m fine. Go and do your duty as a driver, honey.” You held his hand that was halted in the air as he was searching for something else he could give you.

“Are you sure? You were trembling earlier, Y/N.”

“It was just the sun. I’m fine now. See?” You cupped his cheeks and giggled when he shivered, feeling your cold hands against his skin. “Go! Don’t make them wait.”

“I’ll come back to you before I have to get into the car. Don’t be in the garage. Stay in here. It’s more comfortable, alright? I love you.” He leaned in to kiss you and pecked on your shirt covered belly. “And you too, little one. Please be nice on mommy.”

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You were lying through your teeth but Charles didn’t catch any of it. He was probably too nervous for the race as he could usually read you like an open book. Your cramps had been going on recurrently, your belly is hard to touch and it felt heavier. The steps taken from your car to the paddock made you out of breath, your legs were shaking from having to walk through the cramps but your husband knew nothing about any of it. You felt like the weather and the tension from earlier might had something to do with it. You weren’t going to tell him because he had enough on his plate and though you knew he didn’t mind it at all, you didn’t want him to do anything hasty on the race day. He had told you multiple times how he could skip the practice and even the qualifying round if you just told him something was wrong and if he knew about what you had been feeling these past few days, he wouldn’t even be attending this race and you couldn’t afford that. He was a Ferrari driver before he was your husband. This should be his priority, not you. It’s Monaco, he had always been the centre in every Monaco GP, what would the fans say if he, the only Monegasque in the grid was missing on the important day.

You weren’t sure why you had been feeling this way. Your due date was 3 weeks away. That was surely long enough. You even googled if it was possible for women to get Braxton hicks in their 37 weeks into the pregnancy but most of the answers sent you to shiver that you refused to read in detail and tried to hold it off, until the race, at the very least.

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Charles couldn’t see you before he got into the car. He had been pushing his schedule back when he chose to stay with you in the hospitality earlier so he had no more gap before he race. He was now in the grid walk, fireproofs suit on as he was putting on the balaclava, the white-coloured open mask while one of his race assistant, Xavi was holding his helmet. “Where’s Joris?”

“He’s there. Joris!”

Joris came running from the side of the grid and Charles turned to look at him. “Please keep an eye on Y/N for me. I have a feeling she’s not telling me something.”

“Got it. You don’t have to worry about her.”

“If, God forbid, something happened to her during the race, please let me know. At any time of the race.” He then took the helmet from Xavi and gripped on Joris’s shoulder as he was about to walk away. “Promise me, Joris. Let me know. No matter what position I am.”

“Nothing will happen to her, Charles. I’ll be by her side. Just focus on your race.”

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“Ow..” You winced, steps came to a halt as you placed your hand on the wall to hold yourself. The cramp became more and more intense you could barely stand up any longer than 5 minutes. Even a walk to the bathroom took you long enough as you had to keep on stopping or your legs would just give away. “Not too hard, baby..”

“Y/N, you okay?” Joris came and your face instantly became more at ease to hide the pain.

“I’m fine, Joris. I just feel a little hot.” He offered you a hand and as soon as you pulled your hand from the wall, your whole body became wobbly and Joris immediately caught you in his arms.

“Woah, woah, slow down. Let’s walk you back to the lounge area, alright? Just lean on me.”

You felt a chill as you started sweating abnormally though you were in an air-conditioned area. Soon as you took a step forward, everything became a blur and you lost control of yourself, giving in completely.

“Y/N!” You felt Joris’s body against yours as you fell to the ground. Your eyes were heavy that it felt like it required a huge amount of energy to force it opened and you let yourself capiltulated to the darkness.

Joris immediately called for a medic and he was told that you needed to be taken to the emergency room right away, making him even more overwrought as it sounded more serious than he thought. “Can you wait until I informed her husband first?”

“Sir, we are suspecting internal emergency. We can’t wait. Leave us her emergency contact number and we’ll call them to direct to the hospital.”

Internal emergency. Joris could barely think straight and became more perturbed. One because Charles had given him the responsibility to look over you and he thought it was just his friend being overprotective. Second because you had been more like a family, like a little sister to him so he didn’t want anything bad happened to you. He had given Charles’s parent a call, telling Pascale to call your parents as well before he barged into the garage. He couldn’t cross the pit lane due to safety precaution but the group of people who had direct access to the drivers’ radio were all sitting across the pit lane. He ended up grabbing a random engineer to help him passed the words. “Tell them to inform Charles that his wife had been brought to the emergency room.”

He then saw the engineer walked and whispered to the person in charge and felt a little relief because now all he had to do is wait for Charles so he could go to the hospital.

But he didn’t know none of his words were being conveyed.

“Charles,”

Silenced.

“Guys, I’m listening.”

“No, nothing. Just wanted to inform that we are sticking to plan A.”

“Copy that.”

Joris waited, and waited. He was so anxious he couldn’t even stand still. He saw Charles on the final turn and thought to himself that he was gonna came into the pit lane any second,

but he didn’t. His car passed the starting line again as he carried onto the next lap.

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @aundercover @love4lando @shinrjj

if your usernames were crossed meaning I can’t tag you 😭 let me know if you would like to be removed or added to the taglist! or if I missed anyone!

[mama2bears]

No Christmas Vacation - Part 1

Pairings: Tyler Owens/Reader

Summary: You and Tyler are dating. He takes you for a romantic get away for Christmas, but will the weather interfere with your plans?

Warnings: None yet.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Tyler kisses your neck softly.

“Do we have to get up now?” you muttered rolling over to face him.

“Yeah, remember, today is the day that I am taking you on our Christmas vacation.”

With that, you smiled, sitting up in bed. Tyler had told you a few weeks ago that he wanted to take you away for Christmas. Ever since then, you had tried to get him to tell you where, but he wouldn't budge. He only told you to pack for cold. It didn't matter where you went, you were looking forward to the trip. You were looking forward to getting away for a few days.

“I made you breakfast in bed before we get started.” he said, reaching over to the nightstand and handing you a tray with pancakes, sausage, and coffee.

“That smells amazing, Ty.” You award him with a tender kiss. You met Tyler three years ago when you moved to Arkansas to follow a career in meteorology and storm chasing. Your first thought was that Tyler Owens was a cocky, reckless redneck who only wanted to be a YouTube star. It didn't take you long though to see the tender side of this cowboy tornado wrangler. He was the guy running into debris to find dogs, playing ball with a child in mist of total destruction. Tyler was both tough and tender.

“So, are you going to tell me where we are going yet?”

“Nope.” he grinned.

“How will I know if we have everything packed we need? What if it's warm? Is it going to snow? We aren't going to be chasing tornadoes, are we?” you groaned. It was two days before Christmas and while it wasn't exactly common to have tornadoes in the winter, it certainly wasn't impossible. You loved storm chasing as much as Tyler did, but not on Christmas.

“Well, we didn't pack for every season, but I think cold weather clothes will be all we need. I don't plan on any tornadoes either.”

“Well, at least you can tell me if we are driving or flying.” you said between bites of your pancake.

“Flying.” Tyler answered “...in a plane.” he added.

“No? Really? And here I thought you were superman.” you grinned.

“Maybe I am.” he winked at you.

After breakfast was over, Tyler took your tray, “I'll get our suitcases in the truck and load the dishwasher.” he offered, giving you time to take a shower and get dressed.

* * * * *

“You know, I am going to kinda miss our Christmas tree and decorations.” you say, making one more check on the door to make sure it locked and alarm set before walking to the truck. Tyler opens the door for you, “Does the hotel have a Christmas tree?” you ask getting in.

“Something like that.” he grinned.

It only took you about half an hour to get to the airport, but with the holiday crowd all traveling it took hours to get though security. Finally you make it though the airport check point and are loading the plane. Tyler still hasn't told you where you were going, but you knew you would find out soon enough.

“Welcome aboard.” a flight attendant was saying. You listened to the normal safety measures to take and then finally, “We'll be arriving in Oneida Wisconsin in about two hours. We expect fair weather.”

“Oneida Wisconsin?” you question. “What's there?”

“Well...” Tyler said sitting back in his seat, “Oneida is just the closest airport to fly into. I'll have a rental car waiting for us and then we're driving up to White Lake. We have a little secluded cabin on the lake for the next week.”

“Ty..that sounds amazing!” you squeeze his hand a little tighter as the plane takes off.

“Still nervous about flying?” he asked.

“30,000 feet is a long way to fall if something goes wrong.” you mutter.

A few hours later the plane landed safely and Tyler had collected the suitcases from the luggage claim area and was now loading it in the rental car, which wasn't a car, but a Dodge Ram truck. He always had to have a Dodge, even on vacation.

You were flipping though the radio station when you stopped on a weather report, “and we are expecting a White Christmas this year. White Lake is expected to get up to five inches of snow.”

“Did you know about this?” you asked.

Right now the day was sunny and warm...well, at least 75 and humid was warm for Wisconsin in middle of December.

“Not until yesterday, I didn't. They just started calling for snow.” he smiled, “But the cabin is going to be stock with everything we need. It even has a hot tub and fireplace.”Do you wanna build a snow man? Come on let's go and play...” Tyler started singing, making you laugh.

“This is going to be the perfect weekend.” you smile, staring out the window as the houses gave way to tall forest.

“Yes...yes it is.” Tyler smile, patting the small box that was in his jacket pocket.

“We're here.” he said turning down a small dirt road which ran for a few miles though the woods. Finally, a small wooden cabin perched on a lake came into view. A dock went out from the front yard and a small boat was tied to the dock.

As Tyler parked, you could see the cabin's porch had garland and Christmas lights wrapped around it, there was also Christmas lights running down the dock and a wreath was hung on the door and every window.

Tyler carried the bags to the cabin and entered the code that was given to him for the lock, opening the door.

“It's beautiful Ty,” you pull him into a hug. It was a one story one bedroom cabin. The living room had a brown leather sofa facing a fire place with a big screen TV hung above it. In the corner was a tall tree all decorated, completed with a star on top. The fresh smell of pine filled the room.

“Merry Christmas Darling,” Tyler kissed you softly, then picked up the bags, heading towards the bedroom, then stops in the door way, “Hey, Darling...come here.” he smiles, dropping the bags on the floor and pulls you into a long, slow, deep kiss.

“What did I do to deserve that?” you asked, eyes dancing with excitement.

He kisses you again and points up, to the mistletoe hang above the doorway. “Rules are rules...gotta kiss every time we pass though the door.”

“So, cowboy, what do you have planned for us first?” you grin.

“Well..since today is so warm, I thought maybe we could take the boat out?” he offered and paused, looking towards the bed, “unless you had something else in mind.”

“Oh..tempting, very tempting.” you kissed him, and lead him back towards the living room, “However, I think I'll choose take the boat out, but when we come back.” she winked, “Well, let's just see what happens.”

Tyler went into the kitchen to find that the cabin owner had stalked it well, as agreed, including a chilled bottle of wine. He fixed some sandwiches and grabbed the wine and a couple of glasses, checking his pocket again to make sure the little box was still there. He put the food and wine in a wicker basket, grabbed a blanket off of the sofa, “Ready” he asked, almost unable to contain his excitement.

You laugh at him, following him out the door, “What is so exciting about a boat ride?” you ask. The way he was acting you would have thought that he was chasing a F5 tornado.

“Come on, you'll see!” he was practically skipping down the dock and you couldn't help but laugh. One thing about Tyler Owens was that he had a way of making your heart soar. When you were with him, you were carefree. He had a way of showing you joy in every moment.

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 4)

pariring: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 4 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 3 here)

you and lando have gotten so used to each other in such a short amount of time that a few days apart feels unnatural. there are still lines you're scared to cross, but lando will do anything to prove he's not going anywhere

word count: 6.2k tags/warnings: social media au aspects, alcohol consumption

You jumped when you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders as you stood outside the hotel lobby doors. Usually it was Carlos finding any reason to scare you, but when you didn’t hear his laughter following your panicked inhale, you turned around and came face to face with Lando.

“Morning,” he smiled, eyeing the suitcase at your feet. “What time’s your flight?”

You were a little surprised he didn’t call you out for leaving without saying goodbye, but you both knew you didn’t owe him that. Whatever happened last night, the kiss you shared, it wasn’t supposed to turn into anything bigger.

You glanced at your phone, “In a few hours, I’m just waiting for the uber.”

“You’re not flying with Charles?”

The question confused you, but then you remembered that Lando was probably expecting you to attend all of the races. You had only missed a few since the start of the season and Lando had gotten used to your presence over the weekends.

“I’m going to London,” you told him. “I’m not going to the next race.”

Lando’s smile dropped, his eyes widened and was in resemblance to a puppy as we waited for you to make a joke and tell him you were only kidding.

But you were being serious and when neither of you said anything for a few seconds, it sunk in for Lando that he wouldn’t see you at all this week. 

“Why?” He swallowed. “I mean, at the risk of sounding needy, can I ask why?”

Lando thought he had done something. 

Seeing you standing with your luggage, Lando drew his own conclusion that he had done something wrong last night. Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed you, maybe he shouldn’t have asked about why you didn’t date drivers, maybe he shouldn’t have put you in the position you now found yourself in. 

You needed to ease his nerves, and the second you reached for his face, lightly brushing your thumb over his cheek, Lando started to think that maybe he was overreacting. 

“My friend is getting married,” you answered. “Her hen party is this weekend. The wedding takes place next. And then I’m probably just going to stay in London until Silverstone because it’s the weekend after anyway.”

Lando nodded and you could see him working through the dates in his mind, wondering when he’d get to see you next. It would be almost three weeks. 

But it wasn’t like he had a say in the matter. He would miss you, just like you would find yourself missing him, but you didn’t have any sort of commitment to him or the races. Lando almost felt as though he didn’t have the right to tell you that he wanted you to be there. 

“Where are you staying?” He asked, instead of saying what he really wanted to say. “In London?”

“Oh I don’t know yet,” your phone chimed, letting you know the uber was nearby. “I’ll call one of my friends when I land or I’ll get an airbnb. I’ll figure it out.”

Lando was taken aback by how unprepared you were, but if you were being honest, most of your travel plans were usually booked by someone else. Charles’ assistant made sure you had a room booked and transportation sorted out when you attended the races. If you ever travelled for modelling jobs, the agency would plan ahead. This was one of the few times when you were in charge of your own trip.

And clearly, that stressed Lando out a bit.

“You’re just going to land in Heathrow and hope that someone has a spare room for you?” Lando repeated back what you had told him, but making it sound more preposterous than it actually was. 

You shrugged, “I mean, yeah. Someone’s bound to. Or I’ll get an airbnb.”

“A last minute rental in the heart of London?” Again, he was wording it in a way that was making you second guess your decision. “That’s available for the next three weeks?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

Lando rolled his eyes, rubbing his hand over his face. He was in very visible distress and when his sigh was loud enough for people nearby to turn and look at what was going on, you pushed on his shoulder.

“Lando, I’ll be fine,” you assured him with a laugh. 

But he only shook his head and pulled out his phone, “I know somewhere you can stay. I’ll send you the address and key code and everything.”

“In London?”

“Redcliffe Square,” he clarified. You didn’t spend a lot of time in London, but you were familiar with that borough, nestled between Kensington and Chelsea, two of the most expensive areas in the entire city.

“Who’s place is it?” You asked. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“You won’t, don’t worry.”

“But whose place is it?” You asked again. Your phone vibrated in your hands and you glanced at the screen to see that Lando had sent you all of the information you needed to access the flat. 

“A friend’s,” he glanced over your shoulder when a black SUV pulled up along the curb. “He isn’t even in London. You can use the place for the next few weeks, okay?”

You weren’t fully sold on the idea, but with your uber arriving, there wasn’t much time to argue. The look you gave Lando told him you’d think about it and that’s all he could ask for. He took the luggage from you and wheeled it to the trunk of the car. 

Lando, for whatever reason, was determined to help you in any way he could. And you weren’t someone who ever needed help, but Lando did little things here and there that you hadn’t stopped to think about until now.

Like how he opened the door for you whenever he could. Taking your suitcase from you so you didn’t have to lift it. Sorting out your temporary living situation so you didn’t have to worry about it. Lando liked being able to take care of you, as much as he was allowed given the fact that you two weren’t actually together.

He shut the trunk again and returned to you, shoulders slummed as he took in a heavy breath. He looked at you as if he was trying to remember every detail of your face, seeing as he wouldn’t be able to just wait outside the Ferrari motorhome to see you or even show up outside your flat. 

Lando would be heading straight to Austria, in fact he had to finish packing because he too needed to go to the airport soon. 

“How am I supposed to move up your driver ranking if you’re not even watching the race?” He asked. 

“That’s on you to figure out.”

“Who’s next on your list?”

“Danny Ric.”

Lando’s eye roll could not have been bigger. It didn’t help that you were also wearing an oversized shirt from Daniels’ 2022 Ric Rodeo collection, finding it to be comfortable enough for an overseas flight. 

“Danny’s not even driving!” Lando exclaimed. “And the next race is at the Red Bull Ring. He’s going to be there!”

As a Daniel Ricciardo fan, you were looking forward to all of the content that would be coming up in preparation for the race. You were also looking forward to seeing what Lando had in mind to pass the reserve driver. With surpassing in points out of the question, Lando had to get creative.

“You’re smart, you’ll think of something.”

“You can’t just call me an oyster and then call me smart, it doesn’t work like that.”

“Fine, I’ll stick with oyster.”

“You little-” he clenched his teeth, cutting his words off. You could see him actively trying to mask his smile as his lips pressed together tightly. 

“I have a flight to catch,” you said, taking a moment to reach for his hand. You gave his fingers a squeeze, it was supposed to be a friendly gesture but one that held more meaning than just saying goodbye. 

And then Lando didn’t allow you to let go. The second he felt you pulling away, his grip tightened and he pulled you closer. Your heart started to race when his other hand moved to your chin, tilting your face up to his.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t use my last 12 seconds right now?” He whispered.

You had an answer. You had about three answers, three good reasons why he shouldn’t kiss you outside the doors of the hotel. For starters, there were people that you both knew in the lobby right now and if they just looked outside they would be left with questions neither of you could answer.

Neither of you could trust employees, within Formula 1 or at the hotel, to not say anything and you didn’t need this getting back to your brothers. 

But most importantly, you didn’t want to share these moments with the world. 

If Lando kissed you again, you wanted to be able to get lost in it. You didn’t want to worry about prying eyes or being interrupted or the media finding out and spinning a story into something that it’s not. 

“Save them,” you said quietly, feeling your heart sink deeper into your chest when he nodded and dropped his arm back to his side. He let go of your hand and reached for the door to the backseat to pull it open for you. 

Lando leaned against the frame of the door, watching as you made sure you had everything that you needed for a full day of airline travel. You opened the belt bag around your waist to confirm your passport, charger and wallet was safely in there. He chuckled when it took you an extra second to find your airpods, but even if you were panicked about missing something, the way Lando looked at you was enough to ease your nerves, momentarily. 

“No daisies?” He asked, referring to the bouquet he had gotten for you last night.

“I can’t bring flowers on a plane, Lando.”

He wasn’t content with that response, “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” you retorted. “I guess you’ll just have to get me some more when I see you in SIlverstone.”

“Shouldn’t you be bringing me flowers? I’m the one who got a podium.” 

Lando was stalling now, he didn’t want to watch you drive off. He didn’t want to go these next few weeks knowing you weren’t anywhere nearby. You would be in two completely different countries.

“Do it again and I’ll think about it,” you flashed him a smile, the last one he’d see from you in a while, before he reluctantly shut the car door. 

You fought the urge to look out the back window and wave at him, just like he fought the urge to send you a text saying ‘have a safe flight’. Those little meaningful actions weren’t something either of you did and you knew that the second one of you crossed that line, it would be so much harder to return to where you were before. 

——————

Two flights, three naps and eight hours of podcasts later, you landed in London. You were exhausted, starving and making a mental note to call Lando and thank him for hooking you up with a place to stay because the absolute last thing you wanted to do right now was to find somewhere to sleep.

You texted Thea, your friend who was getting married and told her you landed. She responded almost immediately asking if you wanted to grab drinks but you were ready to call it a night and assured her you’d call her tomorrow. 

You were half asleep in the uber, not even caring to look out the window to make sure you were headed in the right direction. You confirmed the address that Lando sent you and closed your eyes until the driver quietly woke you up when he stopped in front of the white period building. 

The flat was stunning, you could tell that much when you stepped outside. Even with the night sky casting over it, this home was elegant and not something you could ever afford. 

Rolling your suitcase up to the front steps, you pulled your phone out to double check the numbers that Lando had sent you. You typed in a six-digit code and waited only a second for the mechanism to unlock. You pushed the door open and jumped when an alarm started going off.

It took you a moment to get your bearings and find the next text that shared the code to disarm the system, but when the house finally quieted down and you were certain there were no other codes you needed to enter, you let yourself relax.

The flat had high ceilings with period features throughout, including a beautiful marble fireplace in the living room, large windows that led out to a stunning garden view and a huge semi-open kitchen floor plan that you couldn’t wait to use when you weren’t tired.

You left the suitcase at the end of the hallway and flipped a light switch on. It wasn’t that you were trying to pry, but you scanned the general area for any photos or memorabilia that would hint at whose place this was.

Unfortunately for you, nothing stood out.

Except for the vase of daisies in the middle of the dining room table. 

You walked over to the table, thinking that they were fake and for decor only, but the second you reached for one of the stems, you knew instantly they were real, and freshly cut.

Which meant someone had been here before you showed up.

Curiosity getting the better of you, you headed towards the fridge, thinking that if someone was staying here, there would be groceries put away. You yanked the door open and found your assumptions to be correct. There was food in there.

And by the looks of a lot of the expiry dates, this food was purchased today.

You needed answers and you needed to know if Lando was incorrect about the homeowner being away.

You wiped your eyes as you scrolled to find Lando’s contact name in your phone. There was a really good chance you were delusional and there was in fact no food in the fridge and you were hallucinating the flowers because of how exhausted you were, but it all seemed real.

Lando answered on the first ring. 

“Hey,” his voice chimed through the receiver, you could practically hear his smile. “How was your flight?”

“Yeah, good,” but when your 'good' 'was cut off by a very audible yawn, you heard Lando chuckle into the phone.

“Tired?”

“Very,” you laughed as well, leaning against the counter as you eyed the flowers again. “Hey, are you sure there’s no one staying here?”

“At the flat?” You heard a bit of shuffling on his end, like he was moving to a different location to talk to you. “No, no ones there. Just you.”

“So why am I staring at a vase of freshly picked daisies and why is the fridge stocked?”

He laughed again, what you would have given to actually be with him and hear it. You weren’t even sure what country he was currently in, or if he was somewhere in an airport waiting for a layover, but you knew you would have much rather preferred he was with you in London.

Not because you had feelings for him or whatever, it was just easier to talk face to face than over the phone.

“Well,” Lando took a breath. “Daisies are your favourite flower and you need to food to survive so-”

“You did this?” 

“You sound surprised.”

“I just-” you opened the fridge again. “When did you-” you picked up a head of lettuce and then opened up the drawer filled with an assortment of meat and cheese. “How did you-”

“I asked a friend to pick up some things,” Lando finally cleared things up. “Ria lives in the area, she went grocery shopping and picked up the flowers. I just didn’t want you to walk into an empty flat.”

“You’re so sweet,” you tucked the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you walked back over to the flowers. Another yawn passed through your lips and Lando laughed yet again, but you didn’t want your fatigue to be the reason why you had to hang up. “I’m going to get used to seeing the flowers, you know?”

“I know,” Lando agreed. “I’ll just have to keep buying them for you.”

“Or just plant your own,” you suggested. “Have a nice shrub of them in your yard. I’m sure they can grow in Monaco.”

“I’ll think about that- oh, hang on a second, yeah?” 

Before you could answer, Lando muted himself on his end. You wouldn’t have blamed him if when he came back he abruptly needed to go, he had a long travel day as well. 

While you waited for his return, you grabbed your suitcase and wheeled it down the hall, on the search for a bedroom. The first door on the right was a bathroom, the one across from it was an office and it wasn’t until you reached the last door on the left did you find the master bedroom.

Flipping on the light, an abstract painting of a vintage car hanging above the bed took you by surprise. It was a bright blue painting and it stood out, not in a good way, amongst a lot of the neutral decor. 

But again, there were no personal mementos. 

You checked out the ensuite, making sure the hot water actually worked, before heading to the closet. The racks were lined with a variety of jackets and jumpers, you assumed belonging to a guy given the size and styles. 

You really shouldn’t have been snooping, this wasn’t your flat, you were simply a guest, but the light blue hoodie called to you and you tugged on the sleeve to check out the design on the front.

“Sorry about that, had another call,” Lando’s voice made you flinch, not expecting him to come back so soon.

But your attention wasn’t on the phone call. It was on the jumper with a white logo in the top right corner, a logo that held the initials LN.

You tugged down the collar to confirm that this was in fact one of Lando’s merch items and not just fan made. LN4 was printed on the dark tag.

You cleared your throat, “Lando.”

“Yes?”

“Who’s flat am I in right now?”

A bit of silence followed by a faint hum, “Why?”

“Answer the question.”

“A friend’s.”

“Whose friend?”

Another pause and then a very hesitant and uncertain, “Yours?”

You let go of the sleeve and walked back into the bedroom, “Do you live here? Is this your flat?”

His silence was enough of an answer. You scoffed and you knew that Lando could hear your eye roll through the phone.

“I didn’t think you’d agree to stay there if I told you it was my place,” you quickly explained, his voice raising with humour before you could think about arguing with him. “I just thought the offer would scare you off because, I mean- it’s a little weird.”

“It’s very weird,” you corrected, eyes darting all over the room. He lived here. “Lando I can’t sleep in your bed.”

“I haven’t had sex in it with anyone, if you’re wondering.”

“Well I wasn’t, but thank you for clearing that up.”

Lando laughed, “Come on, Y/N. It’s better than a hotel or an airbnb or crashing on someone’s couch.”

But you still weren’t sure how you felt now that you knew this was Lando’s place. He might not have lived here full time, you were fully aware of his home in Monaco, but this was his flat. He handed over the keys to one of his homes like it was nothing, like the thought of you staying anywhere else was absurd. 

You had visited Milan dozens of times and Pierre never once suggested that you stay at his place. Carlos was the same, never thinking of offering up his home if he knew you were travelling to Madrid. 

You were friends with both of those guys, Pierre was on thin ice, but regardless, you considered them to be the two drivers you knew the most, that you were the closest to.

And Lando texted you his address in seconds, not giving you any other option.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, the palm of your hand curving over the luxurious duvet. If you closed your eyes and fell backwards on top of the mattress, you’d be out in seconds. 

“Hey,” Lando’s tone grew quiet, knowing he had lost you for a moment as you got sucked into your own thoughts. “Have I dropped down the driver ranking again?”

“No, you idiot,” you rubbed the corner of your eye. “I’m just thinking about how this is definitely a bit weird, but also really sweet and if Charles knew where I was staying right now, he’d run you off the track next race.”

“I can handle Charles,” there was a false arrogance to him. Driver Charles was a lot different compared to Older Brother Charles. “Just enjoy these next few weeks, okay? I know it’ll be a little boring without me there to annoy you, but try, yeah?”

“I’m going to rack up your electricity bill,” you decided, a devious sort of smile playing on your lips. You glanced towards his closet, “I’m also going to burn all of your merch.”

Lando sighed loudly, “You know what, I’ll pick my battles. This isn’t one of them.”

“So you don’t care if I set all of your LN4 hoodies to flames?”

“Well you don’t wear them anywhere so you might as well.”

“You’ve never asked me to,” you pointed out, but then couldn’t remember if that was actually true or not. There might have been a time when he offered you a hoodie or a shirt and you probably rolled your eyes at the mere thought of putting it on because that would mean you couldn’t rep DR3. 

“I shouldn’t have to ask,” Lando scoffed. “You wear Danny’s merch.”

“Well yeah I love him.”

Lando grumbled quietly into the receiver, something about Daniel not even driving, followed by a few more seconds of loud rustling. He started saying something else but his voice was muffled so you only assumed he had pulled the phone away from his face to talk to someone nearby.

This time when he came back, his tone shifted. 

“Hey, so I-”

“Have to catch your flight?” You asked, trying not to let the disappointment seep through into your words. 

“Yeah it appears so,” Lando sounded just about as annoyed as you felt.

You didn’t want to draw out this goodbye, “Good luck this weekend.”

“Thank you, I’ll, uh- I’ll talk to you later, I guess?” He sounded unsure. “I mean, I won’t call you because you’ll be asleep but yeah I’ll text you or you can text me if you want, but you don’t-”

“Lando,” you cut off his nonsensical rambling. He hummed and you could just picture his wide eyes and boyish features in your mind. “I’ll talk to you later. Have a safe flight."

ynleclerc

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ynleclerc thea's getting married and we're about to make it everyone's problem

view all 213 comments

theaa_coleman i love you !!!

carlossainz55 when are you getting married

ynleclerc is this a proposal? carlossainz55 you wish

userrnorris i would give anything to see lando or carlos as her date to the wedding PLEASE

smooth_operator55 wait this explains why she wasn't at the race this weekend!!

paddockgf oh phew i thought it was bc charles banned her from hanging around w the drivers💀💀

You told Lando you’d talk to him later but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. 

You didn’t text him when you woke up, being bombarded with calls from your friends and he didn’t call you when he landed, exhausted himself from his travel days.

And then the week went on. 

The Hen party for Thea was chaotic. You were drunk for nearly 48 hours and hungover for the next 24. You didn’t leave Lando’s flat for a few days, needing to recuperate and it wasn’t until Tuesday afternoon did you finally feel like yourself again. 

You wanted to watch the races live, but your weekend was packed so you weren’t able to actually see what happened until days later when you curled up on the couch and turned on F1TV. 

Just like you expected, a lot of Daniel Ricciardo content at the Red Bull Ring, but even his presence wasn’t enough to distract you from a certain McLaren driver. 

Lando ended up qualifying eighth, not his best but also not his worst. If you had watched live there would have been a sort of obligation to text him saying ‘good job’ but you also weren’t sure if that was something you could do. It wasn’t as though you wanted to text Carlos and congratulate him on his P4 starting position. 

The race, for better or for worse, was a pretty dull one. No major incidents, nothing that caused you any concern. Charles started from fifth and worked his way up to a third place podium. Carlos started fourth and stayed there. And somewhere during those 71 laps, Lando dropped back through the grid and finished eleventh, unable to claim any points for that weekend.

Again, if you had watched it live you might have even called him. You might have said he still had a good weekend and that it could have been worse, but you were watching it two, almost three, days later. 

The worst part was you had been so disconnected from the outside world these last few days that you weren’t even aware of the driver standings until right now. You had stayed off Instagram except to share a few photos and aside from that, your phone died a lot throughout the chaos that was this weekend. 

You didn’t see anything. You didn’t see Lando’s race results. You didn’t see his post-race interviews where he sounded defeated over the lack of pace from the McLaren. You didn’t see the tweets from fans saying that Lando was missing his good luck charm (you). 

There was a lot you missed, but there was also a lot you were completely oblivious to.

You didn’t know that Lando thought about calling you after the race because he knew that hearing your voice would make his day a little better after that run. You weren’t aware that Lando paced back and forth in his hotel room, asking himself if you really were his good luck charm. And you didn’t know he changed his flights so he could leave Austria early and head to the next country the race was being hosted in.

Which just so happened to be England. 

He told his team it was because he wanted to visit some family before the race weekend. There was a decent sized gap between the Austrian Grand Prix and Silverstone, so no one thought anything of it, and it wasn’t necessarily a lie, he would go see his family, but it just wasn’t the whole truth.

So he landed in London Wednesday night.

It had been over a week now since you two last talked and it wasn’t that you were ignoring him, you just didn’t know what to say.

Days had passed since the race and you just assumed it was too late to say anything about it. Would he have even wanted a pity ‘hey I still think you did pretty good’ sort of text? He knew you weren’t planning on watching the race live, so that kind of message held the risk of sounding insincere. 

And Lando hadn’t reached out either, assuming you were enjoying your time with your friends, which you were. But you missed his voice, you missed his laugh, you missed talking to him. 

But there would be no calls or texts exchanged for the rest of the week. 

Again, you didn’t know what to say and then all of a sudden it was Saturday, Thea’s wedding and then you really weren’t on your phone. You were at the brides’ beck and call since dawn, you needed to be there to take the champagne away when she tried to pour another glass before noon. 

If you had been on your phone, you would have noticed Lando posted a handful of photos on his story and on his photography account, showcasing that he was in London. After spending the last few days with friends and family in nearby towns, he arrived in the city.

And he wanted you to know it. 

He didn’t want to come across as needy or annoying and come straight out tell you he was in London, so he teased the city on his social media, hoping that you’d see it and call or text him. It was an immature move, but Lando wasn’t sure where the two of you stood so it was all he could come up with.

But of course you had no idea what Lando’s whereabouts were. Your priority was the bride and then after the wedding, your priority was getting drunk with your friends at the reception. 

Lando was the last thing on your mind. 

Until he grew impatient that you hadn't reached out, so he was left with no choice but to leave a comment on your most recent instagram post.

ynleclerc

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 18,204 others

ynleclerc need my friends to stop getting married, im tired of crying in pretty dresses (so much love for you 2 tho)

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theaa_coleman i love you i love you thank you for holding my tissues all day

charles_leclerc congrats to the happy couple !!

arthur_leclerc always the bridesmaid never the bride?

yn/leclerc im 21 leave me alone

landonorris orange suits you

Orange suits you. 

Was that him telling you that you looked good in orange or was he being sly and using orange as a euphemism and he was in fact saying that he suited you? Or maybe this was him hinting at wanting to see you in the McLaren garage or maybe Lando didn’t think before leaving that comment and it was unintentionally causing you to spin out. 

It didn’t help that you were drunk and to you, the room seemed to quite literally be spinning. Was it actually? You could be easily convinced it was.

As you sat on the bench outside of the hall, your heeled foot tapped against the carpeted floor. God your feet were killing you. This dress had rough seams that made your skin feel like it was on fire. Your earrings kept getting stuck on your hair but none of that was bothering you as much as Lando’s comment was.

What the fuck did it mean?

You don’t talk for a week and a half and that’s the first thing he says? 

You blinked a few times as you focused on his name on the app, clicking it to lead to his own profile and then clicking his photo to see what he had been up to within the last 24 hours.

It took you a second to piece together the photos you were looking at, but that fucker was in London. 

He was in London and he didn’t tell you? You’re staying at his flat. What was going to happen? You’d go back there after the wedding ended and run into him just sitting on the couch? 

Next thing you knew, you were calling him. 

You lost count of how many rings you heard before he finally answered. 

“Hey,” he sounded arrogant, like he was expecting your call. Or maybe you were just reading into it because you didn’t know what was going on and you had one too many shots with the bridal party and Lando said that orange suited you.

“Orange.”

He laughed, “Excuse me?”

You didn’t mean to say that out loud. Your intention was to call and ask if he was in London but for some reason you couldn’t get his comment out of your mind, so you rolled with it. 

“You think orange suits me?”

He paused. Or maybe he didn’t. The seconds were blurring together and you didn’t have a good concept of time.

“You’re drunk.”

Did you sound drunk? You didn’t think you sounded drunk. You diverted the conversation.

“You’re in London.”

“Are we just stating the obvious?”

“Why did you-” you hiccuped, you definitely sounded a little drunk now. A breath passed your lips as you regained a coherent thought. “You think orange suits me?”

“I do,” there was no hesitancy on his part. “I think you look beautiful in anything, but orange is definitely your colour.”

That’s all it took. A few words, a simple compliment, his smile that could be heard through the phone, and your heart was sinking into your chest. You missed him, you missed his voice. A week and a half wasn’t even that long but it was also driving you insane. 

“I didn’t-” you inhaled a breath as your words jumbled together. 

You wanted to tell him that you didn’t watch the race live and you also wanted to apologise for not saying good job and you were still stuck on the fact that he was in London so the next sentence out your mouth wasn’t understandable in the slightest. 

“I didn’t mean to say sorry, in the-” you dragged your hand over your face, trying to think of a word. “In the race, you were- you did last weekend.”

Lando’s laughter was music to your fucking ears. When something was really funny he always inhaled as he laughed and with it came a sort of squeal that was terribly contagious and you found yourself wanting to laugh along, even if you didn’t know what was funny.

Like right now, you didn’t know why he was laughing but you were laughing with him. Was it something you said? You couldn’t even remember what you said. 

When you both finally caught your breath after a minute, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying what was on the forefront of your mind.

“I think I miss you.”

“You think?” Lando repeated. “I know I miss you.”

He missed you.

“Where are you tonight?”

The question wasn’t properly worded, but Lando pieced together what you were asking. Him being able to understand drunk you was weirdly attractive. You didn’t want it to be a recurring thing, but you loved that he wasn’t asking you to repeat yourself or making you feel bad for not making any sense. 

“I’m staying at a friend's place, I didn’t want to bother you at the flat.”

“What if I want you to bother me?”

Lando cleared his throat, “Then I’d get in my car right now.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Get in your car…” you sat up a bit straighter, glancing towards the room where the reception was taking place. You had spent all day with everyone in there and now there was only one person you wanted to see, “...and come pick me up.”

You could hear the sound of car keys being thrown and caught, followed by the sound of a door opening and closing. 

“Send me your location.”

And you did, accidentally hanging up on him in the process. Lando sent a string of laughing emojis before telling you he’d be there in about fifteen minutes. 

That was enough time for you to chug a few glasses of water and find the bridge and groom to say goodbye. Thea tried to pour another shot down your throat but if anymore alcohol entered your system, you’d start making some really questionable decisions. 

She was content with a hug when you lied and said you would puke on her dress. You wished them well and told them to be safe on their honeymoon. Next you found a few other members of the wedding party and said bye to them before grabbing your clutch and making your way to the front doors of the venue. 

Just in time for Lando to pull up in a sleek black McLaren.

You were so captivated by him just getting out of the car that you froze in place, your heels scraping against the cobblestone beneath you. He wasn’t in a Quadrant sweater, surprisingly, instead opting for a white t-shirt and a pair of dark grey sweats. 

There was already something about a man in grey sweats that had you, and many people, forgetting how to breathe. But Lando in that attire was otherworldly. He looked so good but it was well past midnight so you didn’t how know it was possible for someone to look that good. 

You weren’t even sure how you looked. There was a strong chance your eye makeup was smudged and your face was oily after having product seep into your pores all day. One of the straps of the dress slipped from your shoulder and you quickly adjusted it as Lando approached you, taking in your appearance like he was breathing in fresh air for the first time in months.

“Hi,” you whispered. 

“Hi,” he smiled. He raised his eyebrows when your knee buckled slightly, an indicator that you were in fact drunk but you played it off like nothing happened. “Did you have fun?”

You nodded, looking very uncharacteristically childlike, “I want to go home.”

You didn’t mean for the word home to slip out. You knew Lando’s place wasn’t home, you were only staying there for a few weeks and then you’d be travelling again. 

But even without him there, you felt so comfortable in that flat. You loved cozying up in the bed, you liked having the open kitchen to experiment with, you liked knowing that Lando wanted you there.

So no, it wasn’t home, but it was close enough for the time being and that wasn’t something you could often say, especially with your schedule consisting of trip after trip, hotel after hotel.

Lando reached for your hand. Hearing you refer to his flat as home, even in your drunken state, had his heart skipping a beat. He knew you didn’t mean it, he knew you just wanted to leave the party, but it meant more to him than you’d ever realise. This was something he would hold onto for as long as you’d allow him to. 

“Okay Little Leclerc, let's get you home.”

masterlist here

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia if i missed someone im so sorry

[roosterforme]

Right Girl, Wrong Time Part 10 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: You missed out on a lot of things when you lived in Chicago, because you didn't want to do them without Bradley. On a very important trip, you and he both visit the city together.

Warnings: Fluff, smut and swears

Length: 1500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a sequel to accompany my story Old Habits Die Hard (you'll want to read that one first)!

Check my profile for my masterlist

Five Months Later...

"I can't believe we're willingly flying to Chicago in January," you complained with a bright smile on your face. 

"This was your idea, Sugar," Bradley reminded you, holding up both boarding passes for the airline gate agent to scan. "It's not too late to stay in Vegas or fly to Fiji like I originally wanted."

"No, no. We're going to Chicago together," you told him, taking his hand as you boarded your flight from Las Vegas to O'Hare. Bradley spun your rings around on your finger as you located your seats and settled in. 

"Chicago in January. Two days before a blizzard is due to arrive. Are we about to go on the shittiest honeymoon ever?" he asked, kissing your lips. 

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Listen, we just had Elvis marry us yesterday on the Vegas strip. We had a quickie wedding after being engaged for five weeks, and I'm not even pregnant. Now we're about to get snowed in together in Chicago. You'll be stuck in a room with me for a week. I don't think a conventional honeymoon is what we needed, Beer Boy."

Bradley tipped his head back and laughed. "Actually, now that you mention it, being snowed in with you sounds like a dream, Sugar. What am I even complaining about?"

"I don't know," you whispered against his scars. "You get me and Chicago deep dish pizza around the clock if you want it."

"I want it," he confirmed. "You can feed me pizza naked in bed after we have sex. And then I'll get hard again, we can have sex again, and you can feed me more pizza. It sounds like the perfect week. Chicago in January is everything I ever wanted."

You were shaking with silent laughter as the flight attendant went over the safety instructions, and soon you were in the air. And then you fell asleep on your husband's shoulder. Bradley jostled you awake in time to see the city all lit up against a snowy backdrop as the plane descended into Chicago. 

"Are you ready for this?" you asked, standing next to him with your bags, about to walk outside to get a taxi. "It's three degrees out there."

"Yeah, I'm ready," Bradley mumbled, but he looked scared. "No problem."

Once you and he were outside, he was practically crying as you took care of hailing a ride to the hotel. "You have thin Californian blood now," you told him as he snuggled up next to you in the back seat. You kissed his icy cold nose and forehead as you headed through the city where you lived for four years during grad school. "It's embarrassing, Bradley. I married a Californian."

He shivered in your arms and said, "We're both Virginians, Sugar. I just hate being cold."

You were playing with his hair and kissing along his ear as he melted into you. Every time you thought about the crazy juxtaposition that your life had become, you felt tears in your eyes. You had missed Bradley terribly when you were living in Chicago and still even after you graduated with your PhD. So it just felt right that he was here with you now.

"That's where I got my second tattoo," you whispered as the taxi drove slowly down a side street. 

Bradley looked out the window and smiled. "Should be a historic landmark."

Your laughter filled the small space as he kissed you. Then he paid the cab fare, and you had never seen him move as fast as he did when he hauled all of the luggage inside to the warm hotel lobby. 

"Let's go get a good night's sleep," you told him as he carried everything to the elevator and then into the hotel room. 

"We're not sleeping," he said, shaking his head. "You're going to snuggle with me until I'm warm again, which could take hours, and then I'm fucking you for the rest of the night."

He wasn't lying. You pulled him into bed with you, and held his body close, softly kissing him and telling him how happy you were. 

"I love you, Sugar. I loved you ten years ago, and I love you today, and I'll still be loving you ten years from now."

Slowly and meticulously, he undressed you beneath the blankets, touching and kissing each new bit of skin as it was exposed. He took extra time and gave extra attention to your tattoos, just like he always did. 

"I've been in love with you since the first time you wore my bathrobe," he told you before pressing his lips to the valley between your breasts as you giggled. "No, before that. Since the first time I watched you put a bottle of beer to your perfect lips." He kissed his way up to your mouth, lingering there until you were sighing against him. 

"You've been in love with me since you met me then? Is that what you're trying to say, Beer Boy?"

He groaned as he slid his length inside you. "God, I fucking love it when you call me that. Every single time. And yes, Sugar, ever since I met you."

You made love to your husband all night, your hands and eyes roving over his body as you told him how happy you were that you both ended up at your class reunion in Virginia. That he was at the same bar as you that night last summer. 

When you both finally fell asleep, it was a long time before you woke up. Room service had already switched from breakfast to lunch, but Bradley got them to agree to send up a pot of coffee along with your lunch order. You and he ate all bundled up in bed together with the curtains open, the first flurries of snow falling outside as the storm moved in. 

"We need to head out soon so we can get back before it gets dark," you told him as he sipped his coffee. 

His expression looked unimpressed, but he nodded anyway. "Yeah. Let's go, Sugar."

The taxi dropped you both off at the edge of the park as the sidewalks were getting slick from the snow. There were only a few people out and about, and even in the middle of the day, the sunlight was struggling to break through the heavy, gray clouds. Bradley had his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you approached The Bean together. You stood side by side, examining if for a moment in silence. 

"It's just a big, metallic bean," you said, leaning into Bradley as the wind picked up.

"I knew it would be dumb as hell, Sugar," he replied, gesturing at it with his hand like there was no good explanation for what they were seeing.

You wrapped your arms around his middle and looked up at him as you started cracking up. "I'm glad I didn't see it without you. It was worth the wait."

"You were worth the wait. The Bean, maybe less so," he replied, kissing you as you took your phone out. 

After you took a bunch of selfies and texted some to Nat, you looked at Bradley and hummed. His cheeks were bright pink from the cold, and the tip of his nose was getting red. He was perfect, and he was all yours. 

"Have you given much thought to a little Bradshaw bean?" you asked as snowflakes stuck on his mustache. 

"Bradshaw bean?" he asked. His brow was creased before it started to smooth out. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, Sugar?"

You nodded and kissed his pink cheek. "Yeah, Beer Boy. A little baby Bradshaw bean. Just something to think about."

Both of you thought about it and talked about it as you stood in front of the giant bean in the middle of a blizzard. But you didn't need to make all of your decisions right now. You weren't planning on being without Bradley ever again. 

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

THANK YOU for reading along on this adventure with me! Beer Boy/Man and Sugar belong together, and I'm happy she gets to take him to Chicago, even if it's during a blizzard! I hope you had as much fun as I did! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

Please visit the one-shot The Grateful Dad for some more Beer Boy and Sugar!

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[accio-victuuri]

XZS chongqing vlog candies. 🍬🍭💛

the vlog we’ve been waiting for! thank you xz for always spoiling your fans with not only the photos but moreso the vlogs. i’m still waiting for snaps from that night and hope xzs will provide. safe flight to him and hopefully we will have more content from his trip. in the meantime, we’ll support wyb for weibo movie night.

my favorite edit or parallel related to the vlog is this. both of them doing a convenience store run. i hope they get to do this kind of mundane stuff together — with wyb probably buying a lot of random things. a personal reason tho is i remember being a newer turtle and seeing a very convincing edit of p1 where it showed that they were together. who remembers that? 😂😂😂

it’s not a cpn post without a wardrobe connection and this time it’s stone island! this is a brand that was mostly seen used by WYB. and the best thing is it was worn by our dear shuo shuo!

this is why we frequently clown about them stealing each other’s casual clothes because they use the same brands. aside from what they are endorsing. the shorts xz is wearing looks like a pair with something wyb wore. ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

another couple wear! it’s so sweet!!!!

next one: them doing the same hands behind their back uncle gesture and walk. 🤭🤭🤭

adding to the list of similar “mannerism” that they do.

lastly, this section is about a cpn that’s becoming popular because of a certain line in this vlog and them being in the same city (shanghai) for a very short while. with some even saying that wyb delayed his flight back to beijing for them to spend more time together. the line in the vlog is: “charging complete, let’s go on a new journey.” now in the obvious context of the vlog, it’s him charging in his hometown chongqing and after that he is ready for a new journey ( going to paris ).

a short meet up before wyb goes back home and attends weibo night, in the meantime, xz is supposedly going abroad. people also noticed one thing about their suitcase. before i proceed, just a reminder that i’m really 50/50 about these things cause tracking their luggage may be dangerous if the wrong people see it. those may get stolen in the future if it’s too recognizable as theirs.

so basically, with yibo running around traveling, we see his green luggage. but last night from shanghai then going back, a silver one is added. a luggage that looks suspiciously like xz’s. 🤔🤔🤔

maybe xz asked wyb to take stuff home for him? further proof of the living together cpn. i swear. these two! and wyb suddenly having what looks like an ipad too? is this xz’s? cause he can’t take it or don’t need it abroad?

anyway, the wish we all have is xz to sort of stay a bit longer to coincide with yibo’s paris trip in a few days (allegedly) . our dream of them being abroad together!!!!!! 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

-END

[lou-struck]

Seat 14F

Atsumu Miya x reader

WC: 1.3k 

~You are peacefully getting ready for your flight home in your long awaited window seat until your talkative seat buddy arrives. 

A/n: I am having so much fun finishing some of these WIPS. I hope you enjoy this one.

The terminal beneath your feet echoes the hollow yet eager sound that is created by your footsteps. The beige hallway twists and turns until you see a fight attendant gesturing you into the cabin with a large red-lipsticked smile. 

“Welcome aboard,” he beams as you step onto the plane.

“Thank you.” You smile back and readjust the strap on your backpack so it’s tighter to your back and at less of a risk of smacking the others in the face as you pass them. Their crumpled boarding pass is in your hand as they make their way down the long aisle. They had only started boarding minutes ago, but already, you see people slumped in their seats, softly snoring into their neck pillows. 

You are in Seat 14F, a window seat. There is something so comforting about having an extra wall to lean up upon in case you were to find yourself drifting off on this flight. 

Your eyes scan the row makers as you pass,

Row 9, 10, 11, 13. 

Row 14 is completely empty as you come to a stop, sliding past the first two seats on the right-hand side of the plane and tucking your travel backpack underneath the seat in front of you to save yourself from a lecture from the flight attendant later. 

You feel your phone in your pocket as you sit down in your seat, which apparently can be used as a flotation device should the plane come down over a body of water. Knowing you’ll most likely forget to do it later, choose now to turn the device into airplane mode and slip it into the mesh netting in front of you for later. With your phone gone, you choose to entertain yourself by watching out the little oval window as airline workers load the bottom of the plane with everyone’s luggage. 

Peering at the little cart, you try to see if you can spot them loading the suitcases you checked. Your white plastic one and the other one…

“Well, isn’t this my lucky day?” a honeyed voice drawls from behind you. “Looks like I got myself a cute lookin seat, buddy.”

“What brings you here?” you ask, watching as a handsome man with faux-blond hair slides into the seat next to you. He unceremoniously slides a gray backpack underneath his seat before wasting no time in making himself at home. 

“14E,” they beam, flashing you their paper boarding pass. Already, the parchment is crumpled beyond recognition and speckled with droplets of what you assume to be coffee. 

You roll your eyes and send him a playful smile. “Atsumu, I printed that boarding pass for you less than an hour ago. How have you managed to beat it up so badly?”

“Who’s Atsumu?” he asks, cocking his head to the side in mock confusion, obviously wanting to keep flirting terribly with you for as long as he can. “I’m uhhh.” he scratches his head in thought, “Mr. Handsome Stranger.”

You sigh as he continues this little ruse of his. “Well then, Mr. Stranger, have a seat.” You place your earbuds into your ear and try to keep a look of disinterest on your face as you scroll through your downloaded podcast episodes. 

“It’s Mr. Handsome Stranger.” He pouts, his cheeks puffing out comically, and he sits down in the seat next to you. From the corner of your eye, you see him looking at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes he can muster. When they spot something shiny on your finger, they gleam, and you can practically see the cogs turning in that pretty head of his. 

“Well, that’s a real nice ring on yer finger,” he hums, leaning well into your personal space; now that he’s closer, you can smell the mint gum he’s chewing, and you can’t help but wonder if it’s his attempt to cover his coffee breath. 

“Thank you,” you sigh, shifting in your seat and admiring the gem yourself in the light of your small oval window. “I got it from my Fiance.”

“Not husband?” he winks, “I guess I still have a chance with you then.”

You laugh at his terrible flirting like the hypocrite you are. Because that same flirtiness that (unbeknownst to you) is causing the other passengers to cringe in their seats was able to ensnare you over two years ago.

“Is there a problem here?” the flight attendant from earlier comes over with a stern expression. Their eyes narrow when they see the way your goofy fiance is practically on top of you, fiddling with your engagement ring. They make eye contact with you, looking for any kind of discomfort in your expression. “Is he bothering you?”

Atsumu slides off of you and into his seat quickly. His cheeks flush pink in embarrassment. “I-it’s not what ya think.” he starts to explain but he is silenced by the commanding gloved hand of the flight attendant who you now think is one of your favorite people on earth. 

People are watching, listening, just waiting for the moment to step in and rescue you. If it wasn’t some big misunderstanding, you would feel that your faith in humanity was restored. 

But you’re not in any danger, so just for a moment, you may as well enjoy this little in-flight entertainment, 

“Sir, did you know it is a crime to interfere with the takeoff and departure of an aircraft?” they ask with a vicious customer service smile. “Is this behavior of yours really worth jail time?”

“Wha?” No, I was just messing around..” Atsumu says in a smaller voice. His tone pulls at your heartstrings, and you know you have to come to his aid. 

“Tsumu, I got this.” You murmur, placing a hand on his bicep as a grounding touch and giving your would-be hero a genuine smile. “I am so sorry about this; this doof is just my fiance. He likes to use those cheesy lines to make me laugh.”

They look between the two of you with a discerning glance before. “Do you promise?” they ask. 

“I promise.” you laugh, relieved that Atsumu is feeling a bit less freaked out now that he isn’t at risk of being dragged off the plane and thrown in jail for his cheesy pickup lines. 

“Here’s my lock screen.” the volleyball player adds, showing the attendant a picture of the two of you wrapped in each other’s arms after one of his games. “We’re together, I swear.”

“Awe, cute.” the attendant says, shutting the luggage compartment above your head. “Glad you’re not a creep. We are about to take off soon, so don’t forget to put that phone in airplane mode, hon.”

“R-right, thank ya.” he breathes his fingers, fumbling with his slightly cracked screen protector to switch his device. 

“I see; one moment, please,” they hum, turning and walking down the aisle away from seats 14 E and F, leaving the two of you rather confused at his sudden exit. 

They come back a few moments later and sneakily slides two prepackaged snack boxes over to you. The ones that are only available in first-class cabins. This sly gesture of good faith is very much appreciated by the two of you. 

“Thank ya,” Atsumu whispers happily, unwrapping his miniature charcuterie snack. 

“For what? The attendant asks, looking innocent. “You two enjoy the rest of your flight.” With that, they turned and left to do their pre-flight duties. Now alone, you and Atsumu lock eyes and fall into a fit of laughter. 

“Oooh, you almost got in trouble.” you tease, leaning your head against his shoulder.

 “What do ya think plane jail is like?” he hums, fiddling with your engagement ring. 

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you murmur. “It’s not too late to find out, though, if you want to call the flight attendant back.”

“Oh shuddup,” he chuckles, turning in his seat and kissing the crown of your head. “You wouldn’t do that to me; ya like my flirtin’ too much.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” You smile, prepared to spend the rest of your flight in the arms of the man you love. 

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Reunion 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~4.3k

Summary: You and Wanda attend your high school reunion.

A/N: This was fun to write. Wanda gets kinda mad. It’s so cute. Part one of the  jealous Wanda series. 

Warnings: jealousy😈, thoughts of violence, fluff

Going to your 15-year high school reunion sounded unappealing anyway you thought about it. You hadn’t really liked high school because of how stressful it was, and how mean people could be. You didn’t remember it fondly and when the phone call came one day, and the emailed invitation the next, Wanda found you in the kitchen scowling at your computer.

After a long discussion, Wanda had convinced you to at least give it a shot. She’d promised to take time off to go with you, and given that it was almost all the way across the country, it would be a three-day trip. The appeal of spending time away with your wife was much higher than that of going to your high school reunion, but you decided to worry about this later. You’d left Boone with Yelena, and Fletcher would get a couple of visits a day from Steve while you were gone, so they would barely miss your absence.

Right now, as you sit beside Wanda as she drives you through an unfamiliar part of the airport, you’re very confused. You look to your wife who takes off her sunglasses with a sigh before turning down a road that leads dangerously close to the runways.

“Uh, Wands.”

You’re supposed to catch your flight soon, but Wanda had driven you both somewhere that doesn’t seem anywhere close to the terminal. She smiles at you before realizing that you look a little worried, but she doesn’t have to wonder about it long as you voice your concerns hesitantly.

“Why are we here? Don’t we have to catch our flight soon?”

Wanda simply smiles at you as she turns down one last road and pulls into a small garage. You’re too focused on the plane that you drive by and you’re staring at it with an impressed look as Wanda explains what’s happening. You’d told her about your reservations about this trip, and she’d wanted to make everything as stress free as possible for you both. For this reason, she’d dealt with organizing your travel and your hotel room. You were just along for the ride until the reunion.

“We’re here, detka. This is our ride.”

Your head whips back around toward your wife as your jaw drops in bewilderment. You must have heard her wrong because Wanda definitely wasn’t saying what you thought she was. You followed her lead and got out of the car before peeking out of the garage at the damn jet that was not twenty feet from you.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Wanda smirks as she opens the trunk and grabs your bags before handing you your backpack with a smile. She reaches out to push your chin up to close your still gaping mouth, and she can’t help but chuckle under her breath.

“This is one of my planes.”

Wanda walks toward the jet where you now see someone is coming out to meet her. He looks like a pilot, but you can’t even comprehend this right now as you chase after your wife. You had so many questions, but the first one that you asked was arguably the most relevant.

“What do you mean you have a jet?”

Wanda smiles before she grabs your hand so you can meet the pilot and then the small three-person crew that will be with you on this flight. They offer to take your luggage, and you’re too stunned to protest as you follow Wanda up the stairs into the plane you’ll apparently be taking to Miami.

“It’s not just mine, or ours rather, but I made sure we could use it so we can enjoy the trip.”

Wanda leaves out the little detail of her not being able to fly commercially like you. She’s a known criminal and she’s pretty sure that if she stepped into the airport with the intent to ride on a passenger plane, they’d refuse if not arrest her for simply trying. Seeing your wide eyes and the awe in your expression, she realizes that this was a good choice. She doesn’t think you’ll mind this surprise as you take in the small yet somehow spacious interior that looks more comfortable than anything you’ve ever sat on.

“Oh my God.”

There are sets of four seats that are divided into two groups on each side of the plane. The leather recliners are paired with tables that have drinks already set up. There are also two televisions on each side with charging stations beneath, and you can’t stop yourself from sitting down in the nearest chair. You turn to your wife with a stunned expression that you’ll probably wear for the entire trip.

“This is amazing, Wanda. Were you ever going to tell me about this?”

Wanda just shrugs as she takes off her coat and sits down beside you with a smile. She just wanted you to enjoy your weekend, and as she says this you can’t help but kiss her. She’s so sweet and you can’t wait to go on this trip with her. It’s been too long since you’ve had quality time alone and although reuniting with the high school mean girls wasn’t something you were excited about; you at least were going to enjoy the ride.

The 4-hour flight seems to fly by and when you and Wanda leave the plane you almost wish it had been longer. You and Wanda arrive to the hotel that she’d booked and you are once again surprised by Wanda’s choice. It’s very reminiscent of the one you two stayed in during your honeymoon, and you’re already recalling how much fun that was as you and your wife step into the elevator.

“So? How’s the trip so far?”

Your wide smile is enough of an answer for Wanda, but she doesn’t complain about you offering a verbal response as well. You are the only ones in the elevator so you don’t resist the urge to kiss your wife appreciatively. You sneak a hand in her hair, careful not to knock off her sunglasses on her head as you deepen the kiss with a sigh.

“It’s perfect, Wands. Thank you for this.”

Wanda’s hands squeeze your hips before she buries her face in your hair. She turns so she can kiss your neck before leading you off the elevator as soon as you reach your floor. The top floor.

“Of course, detka. I want you to enjoy this weekend, and not stress about the mean girls. I promise I’ll beat them up if they look at you wrong.”

You laugh as you follow Wanda into your room that resembles the rest of the hotel in its extravagance. You see your bags in the room already so you just hurry over to the king size bed and fall face first on it with a sigh. This weekend is proving to be unpredictable, but luckily, it’s in a good way so far. Hopefully this will continue to be the case as the reunion rolls around, but you have no real way of knowing.

Wanda comes to lie down beside you, and you adjust so you’re more comfortable and able to put an arm around her. You know that regardless of what happens tomorrow, you’ll have Wanda by your side and you couldn’t be more grateful for this. You appreciated your wife’s support and despite the fact that you would not let her beat up anyone for you, it was nice to hear that she would be in your corner. You hadn’t seen any of these people in nearly 15 years and you were nervous to say the least.

You hadn’t been popular in high school, but despite keeping to yourself you knew that you’d be recognized. You had no idea how people would remember you but you hadn’t been out of the closet then yet, so maybe some of them would be surprised to learn Wanda was your wife. You weren’t ashamed of anything, but you’d rather talk about how much you loved being a vet and maybe see some people’s puppy pictures. However, you were going to take what you could get, and not worry too much about it. You’d prefer anything to having to talk about Wanda’s less than legal career because that could definitely get dicey.

“Thank you, Wands.”

The rest of the day is mostly spent in bed ordering ridiculously expensive room service. You didn’t want to go out much before the reunion and Wanda understood. You were anxious and you’d rather just hang out, and luckily for her you were in the mood for sitcoms and cuddling. Her two favorite things. It wasn’t until you fell asleep that night that Wanda considered how tomorrow would go for you two.

She wasn’t too worried about being recognized because anyone that knew her there would have a secret of their own to keep. She supposed she was mostly wondering how meeting your former classmates would go. You’d never told her much about your time in high school, but from what she’d gathered you were more studious than social. You mentioned friends occasionally, but you didn’t really keep in touch with them anymore. You only talked to vet school friends every now and then, but never high school.

She wonders if you really wanted to go to this or if you felt guilted into it. Wanda sighs as she lies down next to you to finally go to sleep. It’s nearly midnight and she’s just been watching you sleep for the past hour. She supposes she should try to get some rest. Tomorrow will surely be exhausting with how much you’re going to have to socialize.

This is what you’re thinking about as you and Wanda arrive at the venue where the reunion is being held. You try not to cringe as you see the large banner that says ‘Welcome back class’. You’re regretting your decision to come here, but you choose to focus on the food you’ll hopefully get to eat and your beautiful wife that’s accompanying you. She’s wearing a dress that should make you jealous, but instead you’re proud to show her off to your former classmates. The dress isn’t overly revealing, but the black accentuates her assets and is complemented well with her bright red hair.

“Are you ready for this, my love?”

Wanda smiles as she takes your hand and leads you into the building. You come up on a table quickly and see it’s full of sticker name tags that you’re going to have to stick to your shirt. You smile at the unfamiliar woman sitting behind it. She’s blonde and you definitely could buy that she used to be a cheerleader, but you can’t be sure. You’re certainly not going to ask.

“Hi there, welcome! Let me try and guess?”

You don’t get to respond and you just watch as the blonde looks at the names in front of her curiously. You are actually surprised when she guesses right and you accept it with a small smile before Wanda’s handed a blank tag to fill out with her name.

“I remember you, Y/n. You dated my friend!”

You’re a little confused by this and when Wanda stops in the middle of writing her name you realize she is too. You don’t get to ask ‘Hannah’ for clarification before two other couples come in behind you and force you to move on. You just shake your head as you hold Wanda’s hand and whisper under your breath.

“I have no idea who she was talking about.”

Wanda just laughs at this as she follows you through the hall to the ballroom. The sound of a room full of people chatting makes you tense a little, but Wanda squeezes your hand and offers you a reassuring smile. You take a deep breath before kissing her cheek and leading her the rest of the way to the open doors.

“Let’s do this.”

You were optimistic to say the least about how this day was going to go. You’d believed that it would be fine and you could just mingle with your old friends and try to kill time. This had worked out for the first half hour, but then the group you’d been talking to decide to venture off to talk to others. You’re fine with this and after bidding them goodbye you look to Wanda with a smile.

This was all a little anticlimactic if you were being honest. Given who you were, you’d feared that something dramatic and uncomfortable would happen to you. However, you and Wanda had chatted and actually had a decent time catching up with your old acquaintances. You’d introduced your wife and told everyone that she was in sales. Something boring-sounding but potentially lucrative, yet not specific enough for anyone to try and look her up.

“Thank you for coming with me to this.”

You say this a little while later when the two of you are alone with your snacks. You’re sipping on your drink when Wanda takes one of your hands with a smile. She’s glad that she came here with you. She can tell that you’re less on edge and you’re almost enjoying yourself when someone new comes up to you.

Wanda hadn’t seen the other redhead here as she’d glanced around casually while you talked to your friends. She was pretty and Wanda hates this fact as soon as she realizes who she is or rather was to you.

“Dr. Y/L/N. Look at you all grown up! You somehow look even better than the last time I saw you.”

The urge to crawl into a hole and die overwhelms you as you force yourself to swallow what you’re chewing before you turn toward the familiar voice. You were torn between horror that you’re running into her, and shame at the fact that you’d forgotten about her existence up until this moment. As you turn around to face her you have to stop yourself from doing anything other than smiling.

She looks as good as you remember, albeit briefly forgot, and you meet her blue eyes before looking away to her shirt to remind yourself of her name.

“Jessica. Hi. I didn’t expect to see you here!”

It wasn’t exactly a lie given that you’d forgotten a majority of high school due to the sheer amount of stress it had caused you. Your tactic had been to repress whatever you didn’t want to remember which ended up being most of it. This happened to include your brief, trivial fling with the redhead in front of you.

She’s smiling at you still as she leans in for a hug that you feel obligated to give. You try to keep it short and you bounce uncomfortably on the balls of your feet as you watch Jessica shrug as she looks around the room.

“Of course! How else am I supposed to catch up with everyone. I knew for sure it would be the only way I’d ever see you again.”

Wanda notices that your smile is a little pained, and she doubts this could indicate anything good. She doesn’t have much time to consider this further before you’re reaching out for her and looking between her and the redhead who’s still staring at you.

“Jessica, this is Wanda, my wife. Wanda, Jessica was one of my friends.”

It would have been too lucky for this introduction to go unchallenged. You could feel the color drain from your face when Jessica laughs as she reaches out to shake Wanda’s hand. You can tell she’s confused and you want to explain, but not here and now.

“Mostly friends, sometimes with benefits.”

Wanda’s eyes widen when the other redhead says this, and she can’t help but frown as she turns back to you. You hadn’t told her about any relationships you’d had, other than that short stent with the guy you went to prom with. You take a deep breath before releasing an uncomfortable laugh that seems to spur Jessica on. You take a moment to look at her, and you see that she doesn’t have a ring on her finger. This could mean many things, but unfortunately for you it means that she feels free to flirt with you. Despite the fact that you’re wearing a wedding band and your wife is holding your hand, she’s bolder than you’d feared.

“It’s so good to see you! I hate that we lost touch.”

You run a hand through your hair yanking a good bit of it out as you use work as an excuse. It’s a valid one considering how busy you’d been, but you also hadn’t said a word to Jessica in person or otherwise since graduating high school. She couldn’t have forgotten this.

“Yeah, school was just crazy and now work is crazy.”

You talk a little bit about work when she mentions that she’d read that you were a vet. You ask what she does in return and you listen to her marketing spiel before realizing that Wanda’s near frozen beside you. She’s watching Jessica carefully as she speaks to and continues to ogle you. She’s amazed by this woman’s boldness; her blatant disregard for her presence as she looks at you like she’s imagining you naked.

“I bet you’re amazing at that. You were always so passionate.”

When she reaches out to touch your arm Wanda considers smacking her hand away. She looks to you as you let her do it for only a split second before stepping away. You tug at the hem of your shirt needlessly before covering your discomfort with a cough.

“Ahah thanks, um. If you’ll excuse me.”

You run off before either redhead can stop you and they just frown in unison before turning their attention back to each other. They’re sizing each other up and it’s fairly obvious to any onlooker as Jessica’s frown deepens before speaking up.

“So how long have you and Y/n been married?”

Wanda doesn’t need to think about this at all and she tells Jessica the truth. She has to remind herself to take comfort in the fact that she’d been with you for years, and you’d never once mentioned her.

“For 5 years, but we’ve been together since before she started vet school.”

Jessica nods before she looks toward the doorway that you’d disappeared through before grinning at your behavior. You’d always been a skittish thing until she got you alone, and it was then that you’d find your confidence. She remembers the time she spent with you fondly, and despite wanting to rehash some of that, she has a feeling this won’t happen since Wanda’s here.

“She did always have a thing for redheads.”

Wanda’s still scowling when you return from bringing the car around. You’d wanted to flee and you considered taking Wanda with you but she hadn’t followed you so you decided to just make it quick. You ran back into the building hoping to avoid any drama, but seeing your wife near glaring at Jessica’s smug expression, you realize you’re too late.

You walk back over to them quickly and reach out for your wife’s shoulder with a smile.

“Wands, are you ready to go?”

She doesn’t hurry to respond as she considers what you could have seen in this woman. Beyond her looks, Jessica is pretty intolerable and Wanda opens her mouth to say this when you cut her off. You’d seen the look in your wife’s eyes and you knew that things were about to get ugly if you didn’t get her out of here now.

“Jessica, sorry to run off but we have a flight to catch. It was nice seeing you.”

Two minutes later you and Wanda are sitting in a suffocating silence as you drive back to the hotel. You hadn’t bothered to say goodbye to anyone else because you were mostly worried about your wife. You’d made such a hasty exit that you wondered what rumors were spreading, but that thought is cut short by Wanda’s voice.

“Why didn’t you give me a heads up about her?”

Your grimace isn’t missed as Wanda turns to watch you come up with a response while trying to focus on driving. You hadn’t been able to think of an answer to this question that wasn’t more annoying than Jessica, but you didn’t have a lot of time or the courage to come up with a lie.

“I forgot about her, Wands.”

The responding scoff is probably paired with an eye roll you don’t see as Wanda crosses her arms in annoyance. She hadn’t thought that today would go like this. You’d given her no reason to believe that things would go so sideways, and that’s part of the problem and the reason why she’s ticked.

“Bullshit. You didn’t forget about her, Y/n.”

You open your mouth to protest but you realize you have no excuse so you just stay silent. Wanda seems to get more annoyed at this and she huffs in exasperation as you pull into the hotel parking lot.

“How could you? It sounded like you had a really nice time together.”

The sarcasm in Wanda’s voice makes you cringe in realization. You’d really fucked up and in more ways than one. Not only had you neglected to tell Wanda that you had a friend with benefits in high school, but you’d also just let her flirt with you right in front of your wife. You’d be mad too which is why you’re not surprised when Wanda gets out of the car and storms towards the elevator in silence.

“Wands, come on. I was just a kid it didn’t mean anything.”

She’s just angrily pressing the button for the elevator when you reach out for her only for her to jerk away. She watches the elevator crawl down to their level with an inaudible sigh. She really wishes that they’d just stayed in bed today.

“Well, you didn’t rush to tell her that did you? You just let her fucking flirt with you.”

The ride up to the room is made in silence, and you’re almost afraid that Wanda won’t let you go in as she practically storms out of the elevator.

“I’m sorry, it made me uncomfortable, but I didn’t want to risk her saying more.”

You realize too late that this is admitting to remembering something about your time with Jessica and Wanda zeroes in on this immediately. She opens the door to the room before turning to watch you sweat as she backs up.

“More about what, exactly? What more do you remember, detka? “

You’d like to lie down and cry right now because you’d almost been having fun. You’d been starting to think that it was a good thing that you’d come out here to see old friends, and then this bullshit happened. Sure, maybe you’d liked Jessica a little in high school, but that was 15 years ago. You’d moved on and had an amazing wife and you loved the life you shared with her.

“I remember that we had meaningless sex in the theater changing rooms. However, it’s not something that I’d ever want to think about because it wasn’t memorable.”

Wanda scowls at the confirmation that you’d had sex with the other redhead, and she can’t help but hate that she’d had you first. She knew it was irrational. You’d been in high school around the same time as her, but on completely different sides of the country. You would have never met her at that time.

“I also have it way better now because I’m married to my wonderful wife.”

Wanda sighs in frustration before she turns and walks over to the bed with a frown. She sits down on her side and crosses her arms and legs as she watches you follow her tentatively. She is mad at you for not telling her about this sooner, but unfortunately, she’s starting to forgive you for that. However, she’s still pissed that you hadn’t said anything to deter her from flirting with you, and she wants to remind you of this.

“I shouldn’t have had to watch her flirt with you.”

You’re nodding before Wanda’s even finished speaking, and you creep toward the bed as your wife continues. She’s shooting you a look that makes you want to agree to anything that comes out of her mouth. She’s furious and you don’t want to ruin the rest of your trip because of your stupidity. She watches as you kneel at the edge of the bed and just wait for any indication that you’re not welcome.

“You’re mine and you should have told her that.”

Again, you nod furiously in agreement as you do your best to placate your wife. You need her to know that she’s right, and that you will always be hers; never anyone else’s.

“I know, you’re right. I’m yours.”

Wanda’s eyes darken and she stares at you for the longest time before she lays back against the pillows behind her. She doesn’t want to fight with you about this. However, she’d love to teach you a lesson that will hopefully prevent you from doing something like this ever again. Her arms are still crossed as she watches you fidget nervously, and a smile creeps onto her lips as she decides what your punishment will be.

“Prove it to me then.”

Your head snaps up and you meet your wife’s hard gaze with a puzzled look.

“What?”

Wanda’s smile widens as she leans forward and takes a moment to look you over. You’re tense and flushed and Wanda has a feeling you’ll be very compliant given that you feel guilty for not standing up to your ex-friends with benefits or whatever she was. She plans on taking advantage of this, just so long as you’re game. 

“Prove to me that you’re mine and I’ll forgive you.”

To be continued...

Masterlist

[avastrasposts]

Frankie to the rescue

A Frankie Morales drabble inspired by @secretelephanttattoo who suggested that "Frankie welcomes you home after a long day of travel...."

Written in half an hour after a long day of travel so any mistakes should be ignored. Also, I had no suitable Frankie coded pic to use so if anyone has a suggestion, please link me and I'll update the post! Thanks to @secretelephanttattoo for finding the perfect pic in five seconds flat!

Word count: 690

(and what do you know, i can write short stuff too!)

You groan as you watch the conveyor belt slow down and come to a halt. Two bags remain, none of them yours. An eleven day business trip, a fourteen hour flight back home from Japan, delayed of course, and your luggage is a no-show. The lost luggage counter is mercifully open despite the late hour but it takes the bored attendant an extraordinarily long time to fill in your claim and give you a case number. Or maybe it just feels extraordinarily long when you’ve been on the go since you left your hotel in Tokyo over twenty four hours ago. All you want is to get home and take a long shower and sink down into your own bed, next to your own Frankie. 

Frankie…soft brown eyes, even softer brown curls, warm smile and large hands that always seem to find exactly the right spot on your body for whatever you need. He’s waiting at home, probably in bed already at this late hour, but you know he’ll wake up the second you put your key in the lock. He’ll come padding through the house in his boxers, let you shrug your coat off and then envelop you in his long arms. You know what he’ll smell like as you press your nose against the warm skin on his broad chest, clean cotton, rich wood and that apple scented fabric softener he always buys. 

You tuck the receipt for your poor lost luggage into your shoulder bag and start heading towards the exit. Passport control waves you through, thank god for your citizenship, customs is empty at this hour and you stagger, bleary eyed, into the arrivals hall. There should be a driver waiting for you, company perk, and you just hope he’s still there after the delay. But none of the waiting drivers in their neat uniforms hold a sign with your name and you groan again and pull up your phone to see if you can get an Uber. 

“Ma’am, your car is this way,” the man behind you bends unnecessarily close to your ear and you almost drop your phone. An arm comes out to steady you, hooking around your waist and pulling you close. You’re just about to shove him away with a shout when his warm eyes find yours, his patchy beard a little bit neater and trimmed since you left, lips already close to yours, half pulled up in a smile, ready to kiss you. 

“Frankie…” you sigh and his lips find yours, soft, warm and tender as they press against you, parting slightly to taste you under his tongue. It’s his long arms around your waist, one palm sliding up your back to hold you close against him as you wrap your own arms around his neck, finding those soft curls under the edge of his ball cap. 

“Vida mía,” he mumbles, pulling back a little to lean his forehead against yours, “I missed you so much, I told your PA I’d pick you up instead of the driver, couldn’t be away from you for a minute longer.” 

“I missed you too, Frankie, my love, so much,” you whisper, trying to take in all of him as the late night airport bustle fades around you. His hands are warm through your coat, his breath smells of cinnamon gum and coffee and his arms around your back hold you so tight that you’re on your toes, reaching up, melting into him. 

“Let me take you home, mi amor,” he slides his hand down and takes yours, “and show you how much I missed you.” His lips slip down from your lips, down over your jaw, the bill of his cap making you tilt your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. He nuzzles into the crook of it, his mouth tasting the warm skin, teeth biting just a little, making heat rush through you as soft moans slip out from your both. His fingers tighten his grip around your hand and he pulls away a little, tugging you with him towards his truck.. 

“Now,” he growls, his eyes suddenly dark and needy. 

[theladyofbloodshed]

SJM Romance Week - Day 1 - First Date

@sjmromanceweek

With a fear of flying gripping her tight, Nesta just wants to be left alone to spiral in her panic - that is until a swaggering man holds her hand during take off.

The sweating had begun the second she reached the security line which was never a good sign. Nesta tried to act calm, tried not to keep glancing over her shoulders at the security agents as they scanned bags and bodies. Every damn time she made the machine bleep despite ensuring she had no metal on her, as if the machine knew she was panicking and wanted to enhance her worry. True to history, the machine went off and she stepped onto the painted feet for a guard to wave their wand over her. She didn’t know why she was so worried about the security part; Nesta wasn’t smuggling drugs.

Two hours of agony followed.

The duty-free shops didn’t hold her appeal although she’d toyed with buying alcohol to take the edge off things. She’d taken a Xanax already and mixing wouldn’t go well. A book. A new book to keep her occupied, that would do. She checked her gate, double checked it then triple checked it. Lurked near it way before it was boarding time with her new book clutched in her clammy hands. Nesta mentally catalogued her day. She’d watered the plants, Gwyn already had the spare key to water them when needed, she’d turned everything off, locked the door because she’d checked multiple times, had her travel documents on her phone and printed, had only taken hand luggage so it wouldn’t be lost. Everything would be fine. Of course it would be. She was a planner. But she couldn’t plan who was piloting the plane. Couldn’t plan the weather. Couldn’t plan if a freak bolt of lightning struck the plane and zapped them off the face of the earth. Nesta swigged down mouthfuls of sparkling water. She hated it but it made her burp and that alleviated her churning stomach.

When the agents called for boarding, Nesta was first in the queue. Priority boarding had been purchased so she could panic in her seat. Her legs trembled up the metal stairs to board the plane. Planes flew every day. Hundreds of them. All crisscrossing across the sky. And she’d be on the unlucky anomaly. Because of course she would. Nothing ever ran smoothly in her life.

With an eye mask on and a mindfulness podcast blaring in her ears, Nesta tried to block out the rest of the boarding. She was vaguely aware of bodies moving down the aisle or slipping into seats behind or in front of hers, the judder of chairs or slam of the overhead storage. When an elbow knocked into her to take the seat, she didn’t react, just kept listening to the soothing voice telling her to focus on her breathing.

Fingers tapped on her arm repeatedly until she peeled off her mask.

A man with dark-hair tugged into a loose bun at the nape of his neck was gesturing to her headphones. An air steward was watching, life jacket held aloft for the display. ‘Switch to airplane mode or turn off your devices for take off please.’

Nesta fumbled with her phone, hands trembling to change it. She listened to the safety warnings, terror soaking in.

‘Can we swap seats? I don’t want to look out of the window.’

‘Sorry, sweetheart, but I need to leg room in the aisle.’ The man gestured to his broad thighs and long, muscled legs.

Nesta knew well enough that if she even dreamed of closing the hatch on the window, a flight attendant would snap it back up so she could see just how high they were. Once the safety demo had finished, Nesta plugged back into her bubble. Her belt was on but what use was that against a plane crash?

As soon as she felt motion, Nesta was gripping her seat belt as if clinging onto it might save her. Her hands trembled, tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth in her fear as the plane approached the runway.

Then a hand reached for hers. Calloused fingers slid against her own.

Nesta ripped her mask and headphones away in one fell swoop.

‘What the hell are you doing?’

‘You seemed nervous. Thought you’d want a hand to hold.’

The man’s hazel eyes fell to their hands, still entwined then Nesta yanked that away too.

And then the plane was barrelling along the runway, the force pinning her to her seat so she grasped for that hand again. He gave a low chuckle and cradled hers with both of his. Nesta screwed her eyes shut, not wanting to glimpse the moment they took flight or the way the land below would become more and more distant. At Emerie’s encouragement, she’d watched take offs on YouTube, had even tried to play a flight simulator but both of them had freaked her out just as much.

‘Is it just take off or landing too?’

Her words wouldn’t come out. The whole thing was traumatic. The only reason she was flying was because her sister was due to a drop a baby boy any day and Nesta had agreed to be there for the delivery and first couple of weeks of his life. Without a maternal figure, Feyre had decided that Nesta was the closest thing – ignoring the fact neither of them had a clue about babies.

‘What does that beeping mean?’ she hissed.

The man just brushed his thumb in a circle against the back of her hand. ‘It means we can take our seat belts off, sweetheart.’

Reluctantly, she forced open her eyes. People were already releasing their belts and heading to the bathroom. She had held her own urination on every flight. Only poor planners didn’t go before take-off. It would be just her luck that a plane would meet a fiery end whilst she was sat on the toilet.

He leaned over to slide the hatch down, hiding the outside world from view then his fingers headed towards her lap. Nesta was too stunned to react even as he undid her belt.

‘And what happens if this plane starts to plummet from the sky?’

‘I’m sure you can figure out how to put your belt back on,’ he replied, an easy grin on his face. At her terse look, he added, ‘Relax. This plane has never crashed before.’

Nesta busied herself with her book despite the undercurrent of fear threatening to drown her every time she thought too deeply about how the plane remained airborne. The man next to her read the in-flight magazine then began drumming on the fold-out table.

‘Do you mind?’

‘Have you got a request?’

Nesta’s brows drew together. ‘Stop drumming. It’s irritating.’

When the trolley of beverages was a few rows away, he turned to her. ‘What are you having?’

‘Nothing. If I drink, I will need the bathroom. I am not getting up or going there and tempting fate.’

He gave a bellow of a laugh. ‘You’ve thought of everything. You know if the plane crashes, it will make no difference if you’re sat by me or on the toilet.’

Her face must have paled because he added, ‘But it will fly safely to our destination.’

A handsome, swaggering smile was offered to the air stewardess when she approached. ‘Two coffees, chips, M&Ms and whatever drink has the most sugar.’

There was a veritable feast laid out in front of him, but a coffee was placed on the little table that he unfolded at her seat. The M&M pouch was torn open and shook in front of her face.

‘Go on, treat yourself.’

‘Do you just fly around the country and trap women in airline seats so they can’t get away?’

He ran a hand against his black hair. ‘Should I have gotten the peanut ones?’

Nesta took a few and tipped them into her mouth.

‘Careful, sweetheart, you don’t want to choke while the plane is crashing.’

‘You are not funny,’ she complained.

‘When they need to identify your body, what name will go with it?’

This time, she nearly did choke on her handful of M&Ms. ‘Are you serious? Is that how you’re asking my name?’

He spread out his hands, evidently pleased with that terrible line, awaiting her answer.

‘Nesta.’

‘Cassian.’

They chatted as the plane continued on its journey, drinking their coffee and eating his snacks. They shared the can of coke, her inhabitations well and truly lowered by the Xanax if she was willing to swap saliva and drink from the same can as a stranger. At the first signs of turbulence, Cassian was there to hold her hands and murmur embarrassing stories about his friends to stop fear paralysing her.

Once the cabin crew had swept through to collect the final few items of rubbish on the short flight, Nesta was clamming up again. She knew what was to follow.

‘Cabin crew, prepare for landing.’

Clouds streamed past the window, adding to the turbulence. Nesta was too scared to even reach for her mask which had fallen on the floor.

Cassian wound his fingers into hers. ‘I’ve got you, sweetheart. It will be okay.’

Every bump had her gritting her teeth so hard, it was a wonder that one of her molars didn’t crack. Cassian just kept talking in a low voice about inane topics to try and shave the edges off of her fear. His arm wound around her shoulders, forehead touching her temple, whilst his other hand still held hers.

‘This is the nicest first date I’ve ever had.’

That snapped something in her. ‘This is not a date.’

The nose of the plane dipped and her stomach lurched from the motion.

‘We’ve had coffee and snacks. We’re holding hands. You’ve shared your deepest fears of dying in a blazing crash. To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die.’

Nesta ground out, ‘I hate the Smiths.’

‘Everybody does,’ he said.

With a bump that made her squeeze Cassian tighter, the plane landed. It sped down the runway and Nesta kept her eyes firmly shut for the entire duration until Cassian murmured that they had stopped.

‘You see, a safe flight after all.’

‘Fortune was cruel enough to put me next to you. A crash would have really tipped it over the edge.’

Cassian lifted her bag down for her, his black t-shirt rising to expose a strip of his taut muscled stomach. His own was a well-used duffle which he slung over his shoulder.

They walked together towards the airport building.

‘Do I get your number then?’

Nesta cocked a brow at his boldness. ‘Absolutely not. I’d rather be the one that got away.’

‘Every flight I’ll think of you, wondering if you’re stealing another man’s snacks.’

Nesta pressed her fingers to her lips and blew him a kiss as they parted into two different lines at security.

The man had to be mad, she decided as she passed through passport control. No sane man would just start holding a stranger’s hand – and she was an idiot for reciprocating that touch. But it did sting a bit that he’d accepted her refusal so easily. After how tactile and caring he’d been, she thought maybe Cassian would have pestered her again for her number or her socials. Whatever. His loss.

Her fear of flying meant that she’d sweated through her deodorant so she hurried into the bathroom to change her top, clean her arm pits with a baby wipe then slather on more deodorant to appear a little less dishevelled. Nesta spotted Cassian waiting at the baggage carousal for more belongings to come rolling around so she scurried past, avoiding his attention. Fantasy was more fun than reality. Maybe he’d be her one that got away.

After passing through anything to declare, Feyre was waiting for her. The huge belly wasn’t a surprise but it was still a shock to see her little sister so heavily pregnant.

‘Wow, look at you!’

‘I am peeing every ten minutes,’ she replied, holding up her belly.

‘Hi, Rhys.’

‘Nesta,’ he said, swooping to press a kiss on her cheek.

They’d met once. And it had been awkward as hell when Nesta realised he was eight years older than her. He wasn’t the sort of man she’d ever choose, but Feyre seemed happy. They were on “Christmas Card closeness” usually so Feyre’s call asking her to come and be close for the birth had meant a lot. Meant enough that she was willing to fly two days later.

‘Where’s the rest of your luggage?’

‘I had it sent ahead.’

Feyre patted Rhys on the arm. ‘Nesta hates flying. Everything is planned to an inch of its life. No detours, no unnecessary waiting. On the plane, off the plane.’

Even being in an airport, with its constant business, had Nesta itchy. ‘Shall we go?’

‘Do you want to head to the car, ladies? I’m worried about you standing for so long, darling.’

Feyre shook her head, golden hair cascading from the motion. ‘I’m fine. Cassian won’t take that long.’

‘Cassian?’

Nesta could practically hear the alarm bells ringing in her head.

‘My brother,’ said Rhys.

‘He works on an oil rig but he’s home for a couple of months now so you two can argue over who is the best uncle or auntie,’ teased Feyre.

There he was, striding through the doors, duffle bag slung over one shoulder while pushing a cart loaded with three more bags. His eyes snapped straight to her, a slow grin spreading over his face.

They said their greetings, Nesta and Cassian pretending that she hadn’t just been clinging to him in terror on the flight here then they fell into step together, walking slightly behind Rhysand and Feyre.

‘Fortune favours you,’ he murmured.

‘Did you know who I am?’

Cassian gave a hearty laugh that had Rhys glancing his shoulder at them. ‘Not at first. You looked familiar then you said your name and I realised you were Feyre’s sister.’

‘Lucky me,’ she grumbled.

With one hand pushing the trolley, he slung the other arm around her shoulders. ‘So, about that second date.’

[tatsumessy]

The Plane Crash - {Rin Itoshi}

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You shouted walking behind your husband of two years who was ignoring any sort of confrontation with you right now. “I don’t want to talk about this right now, he said tossing his duffel bag by the foot of the bed and unzipping his jacket. “What? Saving our marriage? You can’t talk about saving a marriage we both wanted! Stop making it seem like I’m forcing you to do your fucking part when all I ask is that you love me.”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” He screamed grabbing his head in frustration, “I can’t be everything and perfect at the same time. I have a life beside being Y/n L/n’s husband.” You scoffed and slowly wiped away the tears that were falling from your eyes. With Rin being a pro football player you knew all you had to do was support him, he’s everything and more for you and you know that. But you never knew he’d use being your husband as a form of feeling trapped.

Maybe that’s why he’s been spending more time on the field rather than coming home in time for the two of you to eat dinner together. When did the two of you stop feeling like a couple? When was the last time you went to sleep without crying?

“I’m sorry that I had to try for you but it was so hard and impossible for you to do the same for me.” You said walking over to the closet and grabbing your big travel luggage, opening it you started grabbing a bunch of clothes from the hangers and from the dresser. “What are you doing?” He asked looking up at you, fear struck his eyes slightly seeing you move as quick as you did. “I’m going to stay with my parents for a while, it looks like we both need space from each other. I’ll come back for the playoff game.” Rin stayed silent and chose to listen.

“I’ll send you my plane information and when I make it there safely but I really just think we need to spend some time apart from each other.”

~

“Yes mom, I’ll be fine I promise. He knows I’ll be late to the game. He just wants me there no matter what time I show up.” You say trying to reassure your mother who was worried about literally anything. She pulls you in for a hug and then kisses your cheeks watching as you disappeared into the gate. Your flight had already been delayed three times and at this rate you were going to miss your husband’s first play off game which you promised you’d be there for him.

It was a five hour flight and you were more nervous to see Rin. Since the fight you two had only talked twice in the time span of three months. The two of you agreed that it was better if you talked in person rather than over the phone. “Excuse me passangers, this is your flight attendant. We will be landing shortly, please fasten your seatbelts and stow away all trays. I’ll be coming around shortly to collect trash. Thank you.” She put the phone down and started walking down the aisle, once getting to you she paused.

“You look familiar.” She said taking the empty water bottle from you, “were you on the blue lock award ceremony or something?” “With my husband yes.” “You’re Itoshi Rin’s wife!” You nodded nervously while blushing slightly, this is the first time you’ve actually been noticed. “I’m sorry you aren’t able to make-” she was interrupted by the plane shaking aggressively, the plane then again started shaking but this time more rougher. The flight attendant’s body flew up hitting the top of the roof then landing back on the floor. Everything was happening so fast the next thing you knew was the oxygen mask were coming down.

~

Rin had just finished scoring the winning goal and instead of hearing the normal loud cheering all he hear was chaos. The people in the crowd were either trying to leave or were freaking out about the game. Rin walked over to his coach with his fully decorated water bottle thanks to you. “What’s going on?” He asked and the coach was in his own world on the phone with someone while anxiously trying to get his shit together.

“One of the planes crashed into xxx pier”. Rin felt his heart t drop to his stomach, “do you know the flight number?” Rin asked, before the game he had briefly glanced at your flight plans but he couldn’t remember exactly what flight number you were on. “Flight 717, sorry good game today guys but I gotta go. My kids are on that flight.” Rin felt his stomach tightening, for some odd reason that number just didn’t sit right with him.

The moment he entered the locker room he pulled out his phone and went straight to his messages.

Wife 💚: hey my flight was delayed once again, so I won’t be able to make it. Good luck you know you’re the best. Oh and my flight number is 717.

He immediately grabbed all of his stuff and started heading towards- he didn’t even know. He just knew he needed to get to you.

Opening your eyes you looked around seeing most of the passengers either dismembered, trying to get out, or just dead. Slowly turning you undid the seatbelt and started to panic even more seeing the water fill up the plane. Using the armrest you tried to get out of your seat but your legs were lodged under something. “Help!” You shouted crying a bit as the water was quickly rising up your legs.

The fireman walked slowly up to you and started to check for further injuries. You didn’t even notice the large gash on your forehead, “alright, are you okay ma’am?” You nodded your head yes not being able to speak out of pure shock. The fireman tried to push against the metal pole stuck on top of your legs but it wasn’t budging. The water pressure was pushing against it too hard.

“AHH!!” You screamed out feeling the pole dig further into your legs. Biting your bottom lip a crippling crying erupted from your mouth. “C-Can you do me a favor?” You asked feeling the water reach up to your chest. “Can you give a message to my husband, Itoshi Rin.” The fireman shook his head no and kept trying to pull the pole up, “look, we both know this plane is about to go down and it’d be more beneficial if you lived rather than me.” You said taking slow deep breaths.

You were the only one left on the plane, besides dead bodies, everyone else was saved. “I’m saving the both of us, if you go down, I go down. Simple.” He said and tears started to form once again. Reaching over you grabbed his walkie and held it up to your mouth. “Whoever is hearing this people get this message out to my husband. My name is Itoshi Y/n. Baby, I’m sorry for our fight. I never meant to make you feel like you were trapped. I love you and I’m sorry if I ever failed you as a wife and as your best friend.” Letting go of the walkie the water was reaching up to your neck and it was really getting hard for you to talk let alone breathe.

“Okay this is what we’re going to do, I’m going to tie this rope around it and the speedboat is going to pull it off of you long enough for you to swim out.” He said and you nodded slowly not fully believing that this plan would actually work. The water was rising even higher and he was still tying the rope off. Once he finally got it he swam out the way a bit and signaled the man to go, it was suffering a bit but the pole lifted slightly giving you enough room to wiggle out of your seat. The problem was you couldn’t swim, your legs were most likely fractured.

~

Rin arrived at the crash sight and was led towards a big area that held two different sections. The survivors and the deceased. After searching all throughout the survivors section for you he hesitantly walked towards the deceased section to make his worst nightmare possibly come true. He stood there staring at all the covered up bodies in shock. He flinched feeling a small dainty hand tap him in his shoulder, “excuse me. Are you looking for a specific someone?” The responder asked holding up her clipboard filled with names.

“Um-y-yes my wife. Itoshi Y/n.” It was silent for a moment as she looked over the list, she clicked her tongue before bringing the clipboard down and giving Rin a sympathetic smile. “She isn’t on the list, this may be a good thing…or her body hasn’t been discovered yet. I’m sorry.” She said and walked away leaving Rin lost and confused. “WE HAVE ANOTHER ONE!” A group shouted from the water, one of the fireman was holding an unconscious heavily injured body.

The one thing that caught Rin’s attention was the 13 charmed bracelet, that was hanging from the wrist of the woman. It was you, he started running over towards the stretcher heart racing with each step he took. Your legs were bruised and bloodied and the gash on your forehead was alarming for many reasons but the main one was the amount of complaining he was going to hear when you wake up. He gently caressed the top of your head noticing you stirring around, your eyes opened slowly and the moment you saw Rin you almost fell off the stretcher trying to hug him.

He kissed the crook of your neck and cheek while whispering small praises for you being so strong. “I was so scared…I-I-I thought I was going to die!” you whispered and whined while clutching tightly onto his shoulders. “You’re okay baby. You’re okay now.” He rubbed the back of your head then let go of you briefly so that the both of you could ride in the ambulance together.

“Be honest with me. How bad is it? I could practically feel the blood running down my face.” You laughed awkwardly while rubbing something out of your eye, “you’re beautiful y/n.” He said leaning down and kissing your forehead then giving you a fake smile that you were all too familiar with but the two of you just laughed then sat in silence. “Rin, I’m sorry, I never meant to make you feel stuck.” “I’m not stuck. I never felt stuck. I just didn’t want to disappoint you and with the playoffs happening I was just stressed and took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

You sat there in shock at his statement. “Rin. You are a freaking all star. No matter what happens I’ll always be proud of you. I’m your wife, I support you in everything you do. I love you.” He leaned down and pressed a debtor kiss on your lips then one on your forehead. He whispered an I love you back then kissed you again.

[fartlovingblkguy69]

A Flight to be Remembered (Part 1)

Tim is a 6’3, black, openly gay, formerly athletic, handsome guy with a little extra now that he was 5 years out of college and had stopped working out and started drinking a bit more. He’s a flight attendant who lives in Atlanta, where the airline was headquartered. He had sworn to himself that he would only do this job for a year or two until he found something better, a cushy government job, but things hadn’t panned out that way and it was 5 years later. He was currently being yelled at by a 35 year old, 5’11, in shape man who wanted someone to wait on him hand and foot, including grabbing his luggage for him and bringing it to his waiting UberX. Tim was hoping to get a tip since what he got paid for this flight would barely be enough to make ends meet and he needed some extra cash, so he graciously brought the man’s luggage to the car, making their way together through the airport and accepting the man’s endless flirting and bragging about how well his new start up was doing and that he paid his workers well, but worked them to the bone! After Tim loaded the man’s luggage into the car he waited expectantly, only to be pushed aside and told “Thanks! Have a great day!” as the man slid into the back of the car without another word or glance at Tim. Tim was furious and had had just about enough of these spoiled, entitled passengers! This was way above and beyond and a mere thanks would not do this time! “Aren’t you going to tip me? You do realize that was not in the job description, right?” “What, you want a tip for making a high paying passenger feel accommodated? That’s a pretty low bar to expect compensation. No, I don’t think so! You’ll have to do a lot more to earn money from me! And I know just the way to start!” the man said while staring at Tim’s big, round ass. There was a wild look of lust in his eyes and a bulge in his pants. Tim hoped this meant he would get a bigger tip, but the man was dead set on waiting. He made Tim come back to his hotel room, saying his wallet was in his suitcase and groping Tim’s bubble butt while they were in the elevator. When they got there he immediately demanded a blowjob: “My name is Josh. You can call me Mr. Logan, Sir, or Daddy. Now, if you want a tip, you will give me whatever I want. For example, I want a blowjob. Get my dick clean too! I haven’t been able to shower in 24 hours! Get any cheese you find on it and open wide while I fuck your pathetic face! Then maybe you’ll get $5 out of me!” Tim was seething and asked “Sure thing Mr. Logan! Could I just use your restroom quickly?” with the best fake smile he could muster. As soon as he got into the bathroom he turned on the overhead vent and covered him mouth with his arm so that could scream and get his frustration out! While he does this, he feels his stomach gurgle a bit harshly. He slides his slacks and underwear down and sits on the cold toilet seat, inspecting the light skids on his underwear, wishing he didn’t feel so cold! He rubbed his stomach, trying to massage the gas that was trapped in there, wishing he hadn’t ate all that mac and cheese on his break. He was lactose intolerant, but he loved cheese so much! His stomach would be killing him in a bit though! Then he got an idea! He pulled his slacks off and jumped in the shower, washing himself off real good, with sweet fruit scented soap. After he was done, he toweled off and removed his belt from his slacks before walking out to find Mr. Logan sitting on the bed naked. Perfect! Now I just have to get him to trust me and then he’s all mine, he thought! He pushes Mr. Logan down so he’s lying back and begins to suck his short, but somewhat fat dick, making sure to clean it as he went. It tastes disgusting, but at least he wasn’t the only one about to broaden their tastes. His stomach gurgled quietly, letting him know he needed to move quickly. He began to lick down Mr. Logan’s taint toward his hole, giving him a light rimjob, before telling him to flip over so he could get in there deeper.

[bleep-bloop-boo]

dhskfvfif I LOVE TRAVELING AND PLANES SPECIFICALLY SMM

THE COMMUNITY ALWAYSSSS REINSTILLS MY FAITH IN HUMANITYY

there was this old woman who had had bandages around her shoulder and a brace on her arm. she sat in the wrong seat and some other guy came and asked her to move. everyone around us stopped, just to help her out. shes not a native english speaker, someone explained to her what she needed to do. everyone cleared the path for her. every single one.

BUT THE BEST PART

EVERYONE HELD THEIR HAND OUT SO SHE COULD LEAN AGAINST THEM TO HELP HER TO HER SEAT

AND EVEN MORE?? THEY ASKED AND TOOK HER BAG AND PASSED IT DOWN ONE BY ONE TO HER SEAT

then the people around her helped her settle in and made sure she was okay <33

AND THEN THE FLIGHT ATTENDANTS CAME BY AND CLOSED ALL THE OVERHEAD CABINET THINGIES BUT ONE DIDNT CLOSE AND THEY DIDNT REALIZE SO LIKE 3 PEOPLE, WHO DIDNT EVEN HAVE THEIR LUGGAGE THEIR, ALL TOGETHER WENT AND FIXED IT AND PUSHED IT UP FOR THEM-

ik its pretty small but skrbeod djsskdvjejd this is what community is. helping out each other free of cost. i love humanity :))

[sweveniv]

MAYOR ━━ h. ran. | chapter two. | masterlist.

Tokyo, Japan.

Izana and I arrived at the airport in Japan without talking much, the flight being so silent that it was deafening. During the flight, I couldn't stop thinking about an issue that had been bugging me for a while: the sudden appearance of information about an "ex-boyfriend" on the internet.

I mean, I understood the interest that the paparazzi and others had in my personal life, but where in the world had this information come from?

Kakucho arrives at the airport in a car and makes his way to where Izana and I are standing. It seems like he knows everything about Izana's schedule, even though he's not his secretary. As he approaches, I roll my eyes and scratch the bridge of my nose, feeling the exhaustion from the flight.

I want to interrupt Izana and Kakucho's conversation so much, but I know that if I do, it would just lead to a fight between me and Izana. Despite my exhaustion, I have to remain patient and endure it for now. I let Izana finish his conversation before finally speaking up, interrupting that they will drop me off first at my house.

We three head to the car, fifteen minutes had passed. I am near to falling asleep, but Izana speaks up and makes me roll my eyes even more. "We have a birthday party to attend, dinner time," he says. I nod in response, putting on my headphones to drown out the world around me.

As the car makes its way through the crowded streets of Tokyo, I notice that traffic is especially heavy today. I sigh and take off my headphones to ask Kakucho, "What's wrong? Is there an accident?" We're surrounded by a sea of people, and their faces are all contorted with annoyance. I can only imagine how miserable they must feel, stuck in this gridlock for hours on end.

"I think that BMW crashed into the Ferrari on purpose, judging by the damage done to the Ferrari. It's crazy." Izana observed the crowded area.

The three of us didn't let the accident faze us, and Kakucho drove us to Shoto. It was where all my siblings lived, each with their own property.

The Haitani brothers from Roppongi also had a property in Shoto - a magnificent mansion that was so luxurious, I couldn't even put it into words. The interior was breathtakingly beautiful, with marble floors, gold-trimmed ceilings, and plush furnishings everywhere I looked.

Apparently, it was Ran's idea to design the house this way. Haitani Rindou, Ran's younger brother, was kind enough to show us around the place. All I could think was that Ran has a good taste for luxury.

After a short drive, Kakucho parked his car in front of my house. As soon as we arrived, I immediately kissed Izana on the cheek as a gesture of respect and farewell. Izana acknowledged my affection with a small nod, his full attention still focused on his phone as he continued to play Candy Crush.

Curious, I spoke up, "How far have you made it in Candy Crush?"

Izana shrugged, "1,569. So shut up," he responded casually, still focused on his phone game.

I chuckled and closed the car door before walking to my house. When I looked in through the window, I saw Kakucho arranging my luggage on the living room floor. I felt a twinge of embarrassment and turned away, not wanting him to see me. Then he caught a glimpse of me and smiled slightly. He then bowed his head in a traditional Japanese gesture of respect and gratitude. I returned his greeting, and then he left.

As evening approached, I prepared for dinner wearing a suede tube dress in hot pink--a gift from Mikey last year. It was the first time I had worn it, and it looked stunning with a rose-shade lipstick to complete the outfit. The soft fabric of the dress hugged my curves, while the bold color gave me a confident and sassy look.

As I was putting on the final touches to my makeup, my phone chimed with a notification from Shinichiro. "I'm on my way there," the text read. "Izana and Kakucho have been at auntie's house for almost 20 minutes." I quickly grabbed my phone and replied, "I'll meet you outside in a minute." I put my phone down on the dresser and admired the stunning roses on my lipstick one last time before leaving the room to meet Shinichiro outside.

I walked out of my house and closed the door behind me, unaware that I had slammed it shut a little too forcefully. Mikey and Shinichiro, my two older brothers, watched me, and I gave them an awkward smile.

As I got into the car and sat down in the backseat, Mikey offered me a dorayaki, a popular Japanese pastry made with bean paste and cake batter.

"Really? Dorayaki before dinner?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

Shinichiro chuckled, and Mikey rolled his eyes upward before replying, "Just say if you don't want to eat it, Y/n."

Grateful for the food, I took the dorayaki and began to eat it while Mikey and Shinichiro chatted about their day. Despite the awkward mood, it was nice to be with my family.

As we drove through the bustling streets of Tokyo, I began to grow impatient. The drive seemed to be taking much longer than I had anticipated, and I let out a heavy sigh as we pulled up to our aunt's house.

The moment I stepped out of the car, I couldn't help but smile at the sight of my older sister, who was two years my senior. She greeted me with a warm smile and a big hug as I made my way over to her.

"It's great to see you, Sis," I said, returning her embrace. She gave me a playful poke on the shoulder and laughed. "It's only been a few weeks, Y/n. You're acting like I've been gone for years!"

I hugged Emma tight, taking a moment to appreciate the feeling of her warm embrace. I tried to hold back my tears as I thought about the memories we had shared while growing up together, how we went through every stage of our lives as sisters.

"Well, you know how lonely I can get sometimes when I think of the moments where we used to share a room and do girly things all day," I said, my voice choking up.

"But now you have your own family, and I wish you the best. Don't worry if I say this too many times, Emma, but I really, really want what's best for my big sister."

Emma hugged me back, wiping away my tears with a gentle smile. "I know, Y/n. You've always been there for me, and I have no doubt that you'll always be there for us as a family, no matter what. I love you so much."

As I pulled away from her embrace, I waved to her husband, Draken, who stood nearby. "Take care of her, Draken," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "She's the best sister anyone could ask for."

Draken smiled warmly at me. "I know, Y/n. I'm a lucky man to have Emma in my life, and I'll do everything in my power to make her happy."

As Izana took a sip of his light beer, he let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes.

"You girls are acting as if you two aren't neighbors," he said, directing his attention to me and my sister.

I raised an eyebrow and replied, "We may be neighbors, but don't forget that they're only in Japan for special occasions or if Draken has a business trip."

I raised my hand to flag down the waiter, eager to boost myself. "I'll have a champagne rosé," I said, flashing Kakucho a soft smile. He smiled back at me and leaned in, clearly eager to hear what I had to say.

Kakucho and I studied at the same university in the Philippines - the University of Santo Tomas.

Izana was the one who was paying for our tuition and the one who was sponsoring our allowance, especially for Kakucho, since I had other backup sources like Shinichiro, Mikey, and Emma.

It's funny how we both graduated with a bachelor of science in nursing, yet we both ended up pursuing completely different paths. I smiled as I thought about the memories with Kakucho, especially that reunion we attended last year.

There was one time that someone came up to us at the reunion - I think it was a friend from our Chemistry class - and asked Kakucho and me if we had become registered nurses yet. We both chuckled awkwardly and explained that we had chosen different paths after graduating.

After a few moments of us greeting our relatives and having some friendly chit chat, two luxurious sports cars pulled up in front of the house. One was a stunning purple Ferrari 458 Italia, while the other was a gleaming white Audi R8. I was surprised to see who got out of the cars as soon as they were parked. It was none other than the Haitani brothers.

Ran Haitani's lips curled into a mischievous smirk upon seeing me standing inside the house alongside the Le Rêve art by Pablo Picasso, which was hanging under an 18-light imperial neoclassical chandelier, as my hot pink suede tube dress glimmered under the light. I couldn't resist smiling innocently in response, and soon both Ran and his younger brother, Rindou, made their way inside the massive mansion, a home belonging to my aunt.

After the Haitani brothers made their grand entrance and chatted with our relatives, I couldn't help but chuckle softly at the realization that Ran, who is a well-known businessman with 28 branches of his clubs worldwide, is indeed famous, possibly even before my birth.

He's not only made a name for himself, but he's clearly quite adept at making women swoon over him, as evident in the way he sported a stunning dark violet three-piece suit with such elegance. Despite my amusingly flirtatious interest in him, I knew he was no match for my wit and charm.

Ran made his way over to me, holding a glass of Martini in one hand and a Fabiola cocktail in the other, a small, contented smile playing on his lips. When he offered me the cocktail, it was impossible to ignore the fact that he was much taller than I, causing me to feel slightly dwarfed in his presence. However, I took a sip from my drink and managed to muster the courage to utter the first words of a conversation.

With a mischievous smile, I turned my attention to Ran, fixing my gaze on his captivating lavender eyes. "So, Mayor, how's business going?" I asked playfully. Ran was renowned for keeping his business matters private, and generally speaking, he wasn't inclined to discuss such matters in a casual manner, but I knew I was an exception to this rule. Every time we met, I couldn't resist asking him about his various businesses, along with his work as a politician.

As he took a small sip of his Martini, Ran let out a delighted laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "The usual," he replied lightly, continuing with his casual demeanor.

"My schedule is always full, but I'm happy to make time for you whenever you desire." His playful words resonated with me, and even though I knew he was trying to woo me, I couldn't help but chuckle in response, caught in the moment of our playful banter.

As Ran playfully stared at me, a twinkle of teasing humor in his eyes, I was momentarily caught off guard. He asked, "You're off to Paris next week, right?" His delivery was nonchalant, but his voice carried a hint of interest. Then, he swiftly pulled his phone out of his suit's pocket.

"Looks like Veronica, the friend I met in Italy, extended an invitation for my fashion show in Paris. If you have free time, you can come," I said nonchalantly, raising my eyebrow as I turned to his phone, which caught my attention as I wondered what he was reading.

My eyes widened in disbelief when he pressed the "Purchase" button for two Paris plane tickets.

"What the heck, Ran?" I exclaimed, my confusion mounting.

He shrugged and replied in his usual nonchalant manner. "The tickets are on me. We'll go together," he said with a smile. "I can't believe you!" I added before looking away from embarrassment.

The sound of tapping glass filled the air, immediately capturing our attention, signifying that it was time for dinner. Without saying a word to each other, Ran and I made our way casually to the dining hall.

As we walked, some new guests arrived, causing us to smile and nod in acknowledgement. However, I couldn't help but roll my eyes, as lateness was considered highly disrespectful in my family.

I leaned towards Ran and whispered, "I'll sit next to Shinichiro." Then, I proceeded to walk to the other side of the table, while Ran walked in the opposite direction.

A few minutes after dinner started, the conversation immediately shifted to politics and business, and the room was filled with the sound of discussion. Ran seemed particularly engaged in the topic, as he completely ignored the woman beside him who was trying to capture his attention.

Instead, he focused entirely on his steak, which he stabbed with his fork and began to consume, while the rest of the group discussed the state of the country and that of their neighboring regions.

I listened intently as my uncles, aunties, siblings, and other businessmen here discussed topics ranging from real estate investments to political unrest. One of my uncles, in particular, seemed interested in purchasing the Siargao Island in the Philippines.

My eyebrows rose up when the woman beside Ran called me, "Kurokawa Y/n? As in the Supermodel?" She said excitedly as I smiled to her in response; and surprisingly she smiled back to me, the innocent one.

She then took a sip on her champagne and said, "How are you, Kurokawa? Is it true that you and your ex-boyfriend went out in Barcelona? Damn, Barcelona is one of my dream place to go." She paused, then added with a hint of mischief, Ran's lavender eyes were fixed on me with a bit of jealousy.

He didn't say anything, but I could read his body language. I looked over at Ran, who appeared to be listening carefully to the conversation, his eyes shifting from the woman to me and back again. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but I had a feeling this conversation was far from over.

My brothers gave me questioning looks, as if they were waiting for me to speak up about the purported boyfriend that had recently made an appearance on my social media accounts.

Taking a deep breath, I set down my utensils and said, "Don't believe everything you see on social media. Most of it is fake."

"My niece is correct," my aunt interjected smoothly, a glint in her eye. "Let's not pay the rumors any mind and continue our meal." A small smile spread across my face as I chuckled appreciatively. I finished my food without allowing myself to be further distracted by the whispers and stares of those around me.

Despite the air of tension that had settled over the table after the woman's prying questioning, the dinner had continued on as planned, albeit with a distinct undercurrent of unease. I had no idea who this woman was, and yet she seemed to be fascinated by every aspect of my life, demanding to know everything from my likes and dislikes to my relationship status.

It made me uncomfortable, to say the least, but I did my best to maintain my composure, understanding that as a public figure, I had to be mindful of my appearance. Still, I found myself wishing for a moment of respite and decided to excuse myself and head out to the balcony for some fresh air.

As I brought my white Sancerre wine with me, I needed some time to clear my head and collect my thoughts. I couldn't afford to snap at anyone, least of all that nosy woman who seemed determined to get in my business.

As a supermodel, my reputation was everything, and any hint of impropriety could damage it irreparably. If I were to lose my temper, the consequences could be dire. I must not let that happen.

I sighed, realizing that I had a full week of fashion shows coming up in Paris, and after that, my email inbox would be bombarded with people wanting to collaborate with me. It seemed like I couldn't even have a day off here in Japan.

Even though I'm not a workaholic by nature, I need the income to support my luxurious lifestyle. My needs and wants are so expensive that I don't think I can afford them in my next life. The thought of not being able to have the things I want and need is overwhelming, but I have to keep pushing forward. I can't let the drama of life get the better of me.

My eyes widened in surprise as I felt a pair of slender hands snake their way around my waist, followed closely by the warmth of lips on my ear. As soon as I caught a whiff of his familiar scent, I knew it was the one and only Haitani Ran. The unexpected touch sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but shiver at the unexpected intimacy.

When I tilted my head to look back at him, he placed his chin on top of my shoulder and leaned his head against me. I could feel his warm breath on my skin. As he reached for the old fashioned whiskey that he had placed beside my glass, I couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. The way he moved was like a cat, all fluid and graceful, and I found it endearing. I couldn't believe that he was already a bit tipsy, but I had to admit it was kind of cute.

"How was New York, Miss Y/n?" Ran asked in a soft, sensual tone, making my body turn around to face him. I trailed my fingertips along his jawline and answered, "Tiring." A soft blush rose in Ran's cheeks, and he leaned in to give me a soft, gentle kiss on the center of my nose.

I chuckled in response, feeling a warm, tingly sensation spread throughout my body. Ran's touch was so soft and gentle, yet there was an intensity behind it that sent shivers down my spine. Despite the exhausting day, I couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

"How about you? How was work, exactly?" I asked him, my neutral expression returning after I realized what I was about to say. I didn't want to get involved in politics at all, but my family and friends were mostly politicians, and I knew how dangerous the world of politics could be. Just as I was about to drop the subject, Ran's eyes darkened for a moment, and his expression grew more serious.

"I heard from Kakucho that Izana wants you to move on top," I said, hesitating for a moment before finishing my sentence. The tension in the air was palpable, and I hoped I hadn't overstepped my boundary.

Ran as the President of Japan? It seemed like an impossible feat, especially when he was already busy as the mayor of Roppongi. How would he even find the time and energy to take on such a demanding role? I couldn't help but feel worried for him, knowing the kind of pressure he would face in a position like that. Ran's eyes seemed dark as he thought about the news and I could feel the tension rising between us.

"It's an insane request, Ran. Izana should know better than to ask that of you," I said, letting my concern bleed into my voice. Ran's expression grew darker, his anger and frustration clear on his face.

"Akashi Takeomi may be able to handle being the President since he's already Japan's current President and he's on his last term. However, that doesn't change the fact that being the President is a challenging job. All the commands, the money, the lives of the people - everything and everyone are in your hands after that," I stated, feeling a deep sense of unease in my stomach at the thought of Ran having to handle such a huge responsibility. It was a lot of pressure for any person, let alone someone like Ran who had such a large role in the underworld.

Ran's expression grew darker as he listened to my words, and I could see the weight of the responsibility weighing on him. He was always so calm and collected, but even he would be tested by such a difficult job. I couldn't help but pity him, knowing that he would have to deal with the stress of running a country in addition to his duties as the Mayor of Roppongi.

I sighed, feeling a sense of unease at the thought of Takeomi's presidency possibly being part of the Bonten's plan. For years, no one knew that the politicians were behind the running of the Bonten, one of Japan's biggest criminal syndicates. It was a sickening thought, and I felt my tummy churn at the reality of how deep the corruption ran in the Japanese government.

"It's making me wonder if Takeomi running for President six years ago was part of the Bonten's plan," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Since Bonten is the number criminal syndicate organization in Japan, and no one knows that these politicians are behind running the Bonten."

Every word I said felt like a lead weight in my stomach. I couldn't believe that the criminals were able to run so much of the Japanese government without anyone realizing. It was a scary thought, and I couldn't help but wonder what other secrets were being kept from the general public.

I looked at Ran, waiting for his response. Takeomi's last term as President meant that he needed to find someone to take his place, and from what Ran was saying, it seemed like he was the chosen one. I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the thought of Ran taking on such a huge responsibility.

"It's Takeomi's last term, isn't it?" I asked, wanting to see Ran's reaction. As he took a sip of his whiskey, Ran's expression softened, and he smiled at me.

"Yes, it's his last term," he answered, his voice low and serious. "But Rindou doesn't want me to run for President, because you know how hectic the job is in the Bonten right now. I'm afraid Koko won't be able to handle any of it once I become the President-" he took a deep breathe before speaking up again.

"Darling, you know I play a huge role in the Bonten. Ever since Roppongi has been under my and my brother's rule, I can summon hundreds of delinquents at a time. That makes us a great alliance or support to any gangs that are taking us in, and that's one of the reasons why we always have the highest positions. We're not just random delinquents, we are commanders, and our men are devoted to the Haitani brothers," he explained, feeling a sense of pride at the power he held over the criminal world.

"And the shipment of weapons from other countries, me and Mochi are the ones in charge of that. Some triads want to negotiate something by giving us, the Yakuza, their weapons - guns, rifles, bombs, grenades - in exchange for our top mad dogs in Bonten," he explained, his tone turning serious. "Of course, it's a ridiculous idea. Recruiting mad dogs is very hard, and we can't just let them trade for weapons. Kakucho's the one in command with those mad dogs from the underground because he himself is a mad dog."

The idea of exchanging weapons for mad dogs was ludicrous. Mad dogs were not expendable, and giving them away to another gang was a recipe for disaster. It was clear that the triads didn't understand the value of the men in Bonten.

"I didn't notice that I was captivated when Ran was talking, and he was getting more and more enthusiastic the more he talked about gang stuff. It made me think that this is really what he wants - the gang life," I realized out loud, my voice tinged with a hint of worry.

As I spoke, Ran's eyes fixed on mine, and I felt a sudden frisson of anticipation as he leaned in closer. Before I knew it, his lavender eyes were the only thing I could see, and his face was inches from mine. The wine kicked in, and I could feel my body heating up as he cupped my chin and pressed his lips against mine slowly, sending shivers down my spine.

As we kissed, I felt a sense of longing and desire wash over me. It was clear that Ran was heavily invested in the gang life, and I couldn't help but wonder how that would affect our relationship. But for now, all I could focus on was the warmth of his lips and the feel of his hands on my face. It was a moment I would never forget.

As he planted a passionate kiss on me, my mouth slightly parted. I brushed the bitter taste of the whiskey from my tongue and placed mine to his slowly, even though I could still feel it on his lips. The heat inside was so intense that I could feel the sensation of our actions and feelings scorching our bodies.

Ran responded, "I would do anything for you, Mi'lady," as he planted another passionate kiss on my lips.

"Even if it means sacrificing certain things or people, I'd do anything for you to be the happiest, I'll let you stand on top of the world," ran whispered to my ear as he kissed my jawline with his eyes closed.

He then trailed kisses on her bare shoulder while snaking his hands up and down to her waist and hips, feeling the curve of y/n. Suddenly, they were interrupted, causing ran haitani's eyes to widen in shock.

"Mommy what are you doing?"

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