#i hope work treated u well <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

propertyofwicked · 1 month

Text

FIX THAT ATTITUDE - LN

warnings: smut !! MDNI !! semi public sex, fingering, oral (fem!receiving), withholding orgasms, overstim, light choking, unprotected sex, implied aftercare

3.4k words (sorry i had a LOT to say) (not proof read)

masterlist

thank u for 1k!! lemme know if u want more fluff/smut content in the comments - my inbox is also open for requests! <3

“you wanna fix that attitude before i fuck it out of you?” lando whispered harshly in her ear, his hands resting on her hips as he stood behind her. to anyone looking at them, the exchange looked nothing more than a romantic moment between the young couple, but y/n knew better.

she had barely seen him for 3 weeks, with him travelling for races, and then training and meetings when he was home, her behaviour was a cry for help.

she’d tried everything. brushing past his crotch when she walked past him, bending over in front of her vanity to apply her lipstick, even hiking her dress up dangerously high when she sat in the passenger seat of his car, dragging her fingers up his veiny arms when his hand came to rest on her thigh. but still, he didn’t react, he simply smiled at her like she was an angel, softly stroking the top of her thigh without even a second glance in her direction.

she didn’t want to be treated like an angel, she didn’t want soft. she wanted to be fucked from every angle, covered in their sweat. she wanted him to use her until she was sore, legs shaking, clawing at his bare skin for anything to ground her in reality.

so, y/n got to work. complimenting oscar on his suit, smiling a little much and for a little too long at any man that approached her, twirling the ends of her hair around her fingers throughout entire conversations, all whilst ignoring lando, only acknowledging him when she wanted another drink.

he wasn’t stupid, he caught on quickly, but he let her continue. she’d get what she wanted, but he wanted her to work for it. he was jealous, sure, but he trusted her to not take it too far, and god did he find it amusing watching her try so hard to provoke a reaction from him.

“you wanna fix that attitude before i fuck it out of you?”

the unwavering grip on her hip, sure to leave bruises - even through the layers of her dress - lando’s glares and tensed jaw. was she scared? no. was this exactly the reaction she was hoping for? well, she hadn’t worn that short black dress that dropped a little too low on her chest for lando to simply open the door for her and hold her hand like a gentleman. she wanted him, and she wanted him bad. she was desperate for any ounce of his attention.

“i’d love to see you try,” she whispered in response, tilting her head back to rest on his shoulder, so her words could only be heard by him, her back arching as she did. he pulled her waist in roughly, rolling his hips into her slightly.

“you think anyone here could have you writhing underneath them like i do? you think they could make you feel so good you forget your own name? i’d love to see them try,” he added, sending shivers down her spine and straight to the base of her stomach. he said no more, instead, he moved to stand beside her, taking her hand in his and guiding them to sit in a nearby booth. oscar sat opposite them, glancing up in concern at the red flush rising on y/n’s face.

“y/n? you good?” he asked.

“she doesn’t feel too good,” lando answered for her, his hand resting on her thigh, “combination of a long day and too much socialising, i think,” he adds, his eyebrows raising at her when he mentioned socialising.

“you know me,” she interjects, taking the chance to speak for herself, “social situations without a drink in my hand don’t mix.”

the men chuckled lightly at her response, before discussing an upcoming meeting that oscar had forgotten about, all the while, lando’s fingers toyed with the base of her dress, pushing the material further and further up her legs. she was thankful that the large table and dim lighting hid the way her hips rolled into his hand as his fingers came to stroke over the lace of her underwear. he pulled his hand away quickly, moving to grab his drink as she whimpered quietly at the loss of contact.

“you ok, angel?” lando asked her, feigning innocence, as he held the back of his hand up to her forehead, “y/n, you’re burning up,” he added, biting back a smirk.

“there’s an outside area, through that door there,” oscar told them, pointing to his left, “get some fresh air, it might help.”

“thanks, mate,” lando said, pulling the girl up to stand, her hands tugging her dress back down as he did, “ill see you later, yeah?”

the boys nodded a quick bye at each other as the couple walked in the direction of the door, the fresh air engulfing the two of them as the door closed behind them.

“you need to learn to behave yourself,” lando started, glancing around at the empty patio before pushing her roughly against a nearby wall, “whimpering like that when i barely touched you.”

“im sorry,” she replied, kissing his jaw lightly.

“you’re sorry? no, you wanted this. acting up all night like a desperate little whore,” he spat, before pressing a harsh kiss to her lips, his tongue moving into her mouth as their teeth clashed slightly from the force. the kiss was messy and heated, one hand resting on her jaw, the other on her waist as his rolled his hips into hers. she moaned into his mouth, tugging lightly at his curls as he pulled her leg up, his hardening bulge grazing her lace panties, exposed as her dressed rolled further up her thighs.

“not here,” he groaned in her ear, pulling back and letting her leg drop for her to stand.

“you didn’t care before,” she retorted, her hands grabbing at his jaw to kiss him again, “playing with me in front of oscar like that.”

“not risking someone walking out and seeing what’s mine,” he said again, grabbing her hand before walking around to the valet. y/n trailed behind him, taking large steps in a bid to keep up with his pace with only his arm to leverage the distance he put between them.

the car ride was tense, the silence heavy as she waited for lando to do something, anything. instead, both hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. the anticipation had her clit pulsing, blood running hard and fast through her body as she sought for any friction to relieve her. y/n wriggled in her seat, repositioning herself over and over again with no such luck.

“is my pretty girl so desperate she can’t even sit still?” lando taunted, glancing to his side to watch as she sat fully upright, shoes abandoned in the footwell. she brought one leg up on the seat, her head resting on her knee as her free hand moved over the grab his from the steering wheel.

“please, lan,” she begged, guiding his hand to rest on her thigh.

“we’re almost there,” he countered, yet his hand still gripped at the flesh of her thigh, releasing only to stroke his fingers along the skin, closer to her heat.

“just do something, please lan. i’ll do anything you want, just need you now please,” she said, pleading with him again. his fingers grazed her panties finally, pulling the fabric to the side as his fingers slid through her folds softly, coating his fingertips in the wetness she’d built up throughout the evening.

“so desperate, so wet for me,” he said, rubbing small circles into her clit as he patronised her, “couldn’t just behave for one night could you? just had to try and rile me up to get your way, huh?”

“just missed you is all,” she panted out, head rolling back as he pinched at her clit, she was getting close, “wanted you all night, just you.”

“too late for you to act cute, y/n,” he warned, “you wanted this. you’ll get what you want, you just need to be taught a lesson.”

he pulled his hand away, resting it on the back of her head rest as he turned to reverse into the parking spot. she whimpered at the loss of contact, having her climax snatched away from her, her sounds sending blood rushing back to his cock.

this was a game they played, he was never truly mad at her, he knew her bids to make him jealous were just that - bids. he’d do anything to see her smile, anything to be close to her, anything to show his gratitude for every little thing she does for him. if she wanted it rough, she’d get it rough. if she wanted gentle, he’d be gentle.

and right now, she wanted him between her legs.

lando pushed her down on their bed, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her heat closer to him. he pulls at the sides of her panties, toying with the fabric before slowly pulling them down her legs when she moans at him to hurry up. she’s resting on her forearms, staring down at him as he rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up, her hair falling down her back as she rolls her hips up, desperate for him.

“patience, angel. taking my time with you,” he says, breaking the silence. he wraps an arm around her leg, pulling it over his shoulder as he rests his forearm over her stomach, stopping her wriggling. his finger returns to her folds, still slick from earlier, as he pushes a digit inside her, feeling the stretch around him. he pumps into her a few times, before adding a second finger, twisting them into her, feeling the way her walls contracted around them.

“more, please,” she moaned out. he simply chuckled at her.

he ignored her, fingers never faltering as he curled them up in her, hitting a spot that had her struggling to arch her back as he pinned her down into the mattress. he moved his head closer to her heat, dropping it to the side to rest on her leg, lightly kissing at her inner thigh and nipping at the skin. his eyes flittering from looking into hers before moving back to watch as his fingers disappeared inside her. she tightened around him, her breathing heavier as she got closer to finishing.

lando retracted his fingers, pushing her leg from his shoulder as he stood to look down at her.

“what the fuck?” she stated as her orgasm slipped away from her for the second time this evening.

“i told you. good girls get to cum. whores get taught a lesson,” he replied, hovering over her as he pushed the same two fingers into her mouth. she whined at him, muffled as her tongue ran along them, tasting herself.

he moved back, eyes dropping to her chest as he pulled her dress down. he stopped at her breasts, thankful for the lack of bra, as the tight material pushed the flesh upwards, her nipples hardening as he leant down to blow softly on them. one hand propped himself up, the other moved to grasp at the flesh, squeezing it roughly. his head dropped, taking her other nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around them, teeth nipping at the surrounding skin. he dropped his grip on her other breast, fingers moving to tug at her, her back arching, chest rising into his touch.

“love these,” lando groaned, pulling away to look down at her again. her hair fanned around her head, chest rising and falling with hesitant breaths. he dropped to his knees again, face to face with her heat. with no warning, his face dove into her folds, licking a stripe from her hole, nose nudging at her clit.

“taste so good,” he mumbled, though he doubted she heard him, as he moved back to circle his tongue around her clit. his hands pawed at her thigh again, gripping the flesh as she pulled her legs up, wrapping them over his shoulders. lando’s free hand reached up, gripping her breast again, fingers flicking at her nipple. he could hear her moaning out his name, almost like a chant, his trousers growing unbearably tight.

“lan- fuck, so good.”

he groaned in response, sending vibrations through her heat. her legs tightened around his head, desperate for more, trying to hold on to her orgasm.

“im gonn-”

“hold it.” he said, slapping at her thigh lightly.

“i can-” she started, words halted as her climax washed over her. she tried to hold it, but the overstimulation from the previous assaults took over, pushing her to her finish, legs tightening further around his head as her hips rolled up. his nose brushing her clit again as she rode out her high, using his face.

when she caught her breath, her legs relaxed. lando crawled up her body, his crotch pressing against her heat as he did. he held back a moan.

“i told you to hold it,” he said, hand coming to squeeze lightly at the base of her throat.

“i know, im sorry, i tried, im sorry,” she rambled, panting in between each statement.

“i know you tried,” he cooed at her, mocking, as her hands came to undo the buttons of his shirt, pushing the material away from him. his sat back on his knees, taking the shirt off and launching it across the room as she sat back up, resting on her forearms.

she glanced down at his crotch, noticing the way his bulge strained against his suit trousers, the pressure enough that the zip was starting to roll down by itself. y/n’s hand reached out, palming him through the material before fiddling to unzip them fully, tugging the button out from the loop.

“let me make it up to you,” she begged, eyes blown wide as she stared up into his. he nearly folded at the sight, a groan getting caught in the back of his throat. he didn’t respond, he simply leaned forward, laying her back down on the bed as he pressed a heated kiss to her lips, his tongue grazing her bottom lip before pulling back to press kisses along her jaw, his hand returning to squeeze the base of her neck, harder this time.

“not tonight,” he groaned in her ear, rolling his hips over hers slightly.

lando tried to keep up the poker face but she pouted at him, turning her face, as her eyes questioned him. his head dropped to her neck again, sucking lightly at the skin.

“if i even think about you with my cock rammed down your throat, ill cum - and i’d quite like to feel that tight pussy around my dick,” he laughed softly, as did she, her smile sending warmth spreading through his stomach.

her legs raised around his back rolling the two over so that she straddled his waist, his hips jutting upwards at the weight of her sat on his clothed cock. he wriggled the two of them up the bed, so that he sat upright against the headboard, his trousers shuffling down in the processes, his boxers soon after.

his cock sprang up, hitting his stomach. y/n isn’t sure he’s ever been this hard. hell, lando isn’t sure he’s ever been this hard.

her hand moved to him, thumb running over his tip spreading pre cum down his shaft, his sensitivity causing him to momentarily forget who was supposed to be in charge. lando’s hands moved to grab hers, pulling them up to rest on his shoulders, before dropping them back to her waist to raise her hips up above his cock.

“you cum when i say you can,” he stated, eyes staring directly into hers, her eyelids fluttering from exhaustion. she nodded at him. his free hand lined his tip at her entrance, running it through her folds a few times to use her slick to prepare himself. she began lowering her hips, assuming she was taking the lead. however, when she had taken only half of his shaft, his hands gripped her hips, pushing her roughly down, filling her completely.

“fuck,” she whined, as he continued to pull at her hips, the two of them working together to maintain the pace he set as she slid up and back down his cock. his moans filled the room, his head rolling back slightly at the feeling of her tight walls clamping around him every time he bottomed out. one of her hands gripped the headboard, the other playing with the curls at the back of his head as he leant back forwards to take her nipple in his mouth, a free hand helping to grip at her flesh.

“lan, fuck. too big,” y/n whimpered again, as his hips moved to thrust up into her, taking back control of the situation.

“too big?” he laughed, “never complained before,” he added before pressing a kiss on her jaw.

his hand moved back up to her neck, finger stroking the small bruises forming on her skin.

“you think anyone else could fuck you like this?” he asked, his grip around her neck tightening, her eyes shutting at the overwhelming pleasure racking her whole body.

“eyes open,” he told her, and she pried her eyes open to stare into his. her pupils were blown, and he imagined his looked the same, noises escaped her open mouth, no longer able to form words.

“good girl, taking me so well,” he praised her, noticing the way her body began to slump, her walls tightening around his cock as he continued his brutal thrusts into her, “who else could make you feel this good?” he asked her, but she simply whimpered in response, words caught in the back of her throat.

his hand left her neck, slapping softly as her cheek as her eyes closed again.

“who else?” he asked again, tone harsh.

“no one,” she stuttered, “only you.”

“good girl. you gonna come for me?”

she nodded desperately, no longer sure if she was asking him or telling him.

“can you hold it for a little longer?” he asked, eyes looking softly into hers despite the intensity of the pace he set, “wanna come with you.”

“please, lan. i need t-”

“i know,” he leveraged with her, “im almost there baby,” he added, fingers dropping to toy with her overstimulated clit, her body arching forwards so that her head rested on his shoulder, arms tightly wrapping around his back.

she felt his thrusts falter, his pace slowing as his jutted up into her inconsistently.

“that’s it, baby. come with me, come for me.”

she felt herself let go, waves of climax washing over her again as her entire body shook around him. the walls of her heat, tightening and relaxing as she finished, the feeling pulling lando to his own finishes, each contraction milking his cock as ropes of cum shot into her.

the couple fell silent, lando remained inside of her as she curled into him further, both panting, trying to catch their breaths.

“fuck me that was -” she started, unable to find the words to finish her sentence. she didn’t need to though, he knew what she wanted to say as he hummed in agreement. he rolled the two over, pulling slowly out of her as her face scrunched up from the sting. he looked between the two of them, looking at the mixture of both climaxes coating his own shaft and the top of her thighs, leaking onto her dress slightly.

“you wanna shower?” he asked her, resuming domestic conversation between the two.

“i don’t think i can walk,” she said, smiling, as she rolled onto her back and throwing her arms to either side of her body. she was a sight to behold, fucked out, hair messy and the dress they never took off sat scrunched up around her stomach leaving her mostly exposed. he laughed at the sight, not in jest, but admiration for the woman before him.

“come on,” lando said softly, moving round to her side of the bed, “let’s get you cleaned up and into some clean clothes.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked #oscar piastri #LN4 #OP81

2K notes · View notes

hannieehaee · 4 months

Note

Hey! I was wondering if you could write about one of the svt memberd being super good friends with the reader, like touchy. And everyone else is begging them to get together? 💛

content: f2l!chan, afab reader, seungkwan is far too nosy and too involved for his own good, fluff, etc.

wc: 1485

a/n: i wrote about channie since i think the while friends to lovers thing fits him super well hehe i hope u enjoy <3

masterlist

you and chan had been good friends for a good while now. well, no. it had been further than a good while. you'd known each other since you were young children.

despite chan's life taking a very drastic turn very early on upon his decision to become an idol, the two of you remained friends regardless. your friendship was truly one for the books. to chan's parents you were considered part of the family, which allowed the two of you to spend almost every waking moment together.

this pattern followed you into adulthood, a time in which you somehow becoming even more attached to the hip. his packed idol schedule never really got in the way of your friendship since chan would always insist on having you tag along, allowing you to take the role of one of chan's personal staff members in order to keep you as close to him as he could. this resulted in your friendship extending onto the rest of the members, who had known you since chan had first joined the company, practically treating you like yet another member of their family due to your constant presence.

now, your friendship with chan was quite special. the two of you were the closest duo that any of the members had ever seen. if anyone thought that chan was touchy with any member of seventeen, they surely hadnt seen how touchy he was with you. his hands were never off you for too long, nor his eyes. he was in constant watch of you, dragging you away from his members if they ever dared steal you away. if chan had a hotel room booked for tour, you were sleeping in bed right beside him. if he was at dance practice, he was cuddling you on the hardwood floor during his breaks. the boy practically broke out in hives if you were not in his arms, and the same could be said about you.

this was something the members used to find endearing; with the operative words being 'used to.' when you were teenagers, they had all seen it as cute and innocent puppy love between two childhood friends. however, the expectation had been that by the time the two of you turned 20, you wouldve snapped out of it and realized your very clear feelings for each other. but contrary to their assumptions, the two of you were now on your 24th year of age and had yet to move past the label of friendship. the thought of the two of you uselessly repressing your feelings for each other had most of the members going insane (mostly seungkwan) by then, which was something a few members had recently started to make known to their youngest brother.

one of the first few times in which seungkwan chan's friends began to show their frustrations at his lack of action in making you his took place on a regular afternoon. seungkwan and chan were walking together into the halls of the hybe building, with seungkwan suddenly inquiring as to why he didn't just close the deal with you and made it official.

"i told you it's not like that! we're just friends, that's it", whined chan for the nth time that week.

"i dont buy it. neither of you has ever been in a long term relationship. you're just playing the long game for no reason. she likes you, just ask her out!", seungkwan began to get exasperated at the stupid obliviousness of his friend.

"we work too much, it's– we have no time for relationships."

"'we'? see! you come as a package deal. just date each other!"

"hyung, just drop it. it doesn't mean anything," he groaned before parting ways as chan went onto some individual schedule and seungkwan joined vernon to head over to do a live together.

"what was that about?", inquired an unsuspecting vernon.

"asked him about y/n again."

"ohhh. don't worry about it. they'll see it for themselves one day. it's too obvious."

"yeah. guess you're right."

another instance in which chan was yet again bullied over his lack of self-awareness of his relationship with you was only a few days later. mingyu and seungkwan had just happened to walk in on you and chan playing badminton in the practice room. chan was wrapped around you from behind, hands holding onto yours, guiding your movements as jun played on the other side of the net. you were a mess of giggles as the ridiculous scene played in front of seungkwan's eyes.

"why do you look so disgusted?", spoke up mingyu, noticing the scowl on seungkwan's face.

"he's just so– he's an idiot! that's the love of his life! can't he just ask her out?"

"hmm. you're right. don't worry too much about it. i mean, look at them. it's only a matter of time."

"they're wasting years they could've spent together. god, why is he so dumb?", he wondered out loud, only earning a chuckle from his friend as the two of them joined in on your game

the next and final time seungkwan felt the need to express his frustration at your stubbornness had been upon walking into the practice room to find the two of you cuddled up on the floor. cuddled up might've been too light a term, seeing as you were laying completely on top of him with your face buried into the crook of his neck. your arms were nowhere to be found as they were dug into chan's hoodie, likely holding onto his bare back.

seungkwan scoffed at the sight. his friend looked far too content to be cuddling with a platonic friend. you looked too content to be cuddling with a platonic friend. the domesticity of it made seungkwan sick (okay, maybe he was being dramatic, but the two of you were far too frustrating to him!), causing him to walk over to you with judgement in his features.

"really?", was the first word out of his mouth as he stood over the two of you.

"wha ..?", chan tilted his head in confusion.

"this is platonic?"

"hyung, not this again ...", he groaned out, burying his head on your neck for a change.

you began to groggily sit up, now sitting on chan's lap rather than laying on top of him, "what are you guys talking about?"

"you know! there's no way you dont," seungkwan squinted his eyes at you as an annoyed look made its way onto his face.

"what?"

chan unburied his head from your neck, "he keeps insisting i ask you out because he thinks the way we act around each other isn't entirely platonic an-"

seungkwan interrupted before he could finish.

"our friendship is platonic. you ... you're a couple that's just too scared to put the actual label on it. you're driving me insane. either go out or stop being all over each other at all times!"

chan groaned out at his friend yet again, dropping his head to your chest as he hugged you closer to him. he took a breath against your chest before lifting his head back up, shooting his friend a glare before speaking up again.

"fine," he then turned to look at you, "will you be my girlfriend?"

his tone of voice sounded fed up, making anyone think that he did not mean his words. you, however, still sleepy and not fully understanding the context of the situation, lit up immediately at his words.

"yes!", you grinned at him, ignoring the presence of seungkwan and any other member who was now paying attention at the scene seungkwan had formed.

chan had to do a double take, staring at seungkwan and then darting his eyes right back at you, "w– what? you like me back?!"

"'back!'", seungkwan exclaimed with a gasp, "i knew it!"

"kwannie, shut up," it was seungcheol interjecting this time. about five members were now invested in the scene in front of them.

"yeah, of course i do ... were you not being serious?", you seemed put off by all the attention, but still putting all your focus on chan, who was still holding onto you as his wide eyes bore into yours.

"yes! i mean no– yes, i was being serious! be my girlfriend? please? wait, no. i wanna do this in private. c'mon, baby, let's go," he rushed to get the two of you up, grabbing your hand as he led you out of the room in a hurry, huge grins glued to both your faces as you giggled at each other.

seungkwan was left standing there, completely flabbergasted at how quickly it had all unfolded. suddenly he felt a hand pat his shoulder and a voice speak right next to him.

"huh. guess you were right," it was hannie.

yeah. he was right. now he could finally have peace knowing he had been successful in matchmaking his most stubborn friend.

a/n: chan asking reader out was inspired by that one tiktok of the guy who asked his bff to be his gf on video but she didnt know he was recording and she was all like 'yes :D!!!!' n he was all like ':00 okay!!!' idk i just found it so cuteshsjos

739 notes · View notes

f1fnatic · 4 months

Text

BUT I THOUGHT SHE WAS UNFAITHFUL? ⤿ d. ricciardo 3

→ ( in which. . . ) you star in a movie as the lead actress. in said movie, you date your co-star. the fans of your boyfriend don't like the idea, so they spread rumors in response to you and your co-stars friendship. but, little do they know, it's not you they should be worried about.

→ ( fanfic genre. . . ) social media au

→ ( face claim. . . ) sydney sweeney

→ ( pairing. . . ) daniel ricciardo x actress!reader

→ ( content warnings/disclaimers. . . ) rumors of cheating, eventual cheating, cyber bullying, language, toxic fans

→ ( author's note. . . ) this was sitting in my drafts for so very long and i just finished it in class, i am so happy i am able to post something after such a long hiatus. I hope you enjoy! see end for more

─ INSTAGRAM ↴

y/nnnn

liked by glenpowell, danielricciardo, alexademie, lewishamilton and 3,126,731 others

tagged: glenpowell, sonypictures, and anyonebutyoumovie

happy to announce that anyone but you in theaters NOW! go watch it >:)

view 865,729 comments

y/nlover ugh cannot wait to watch!

alexademie pretty pretty girl

y/nnnn all you lexie :(

danielricciardo so unbelievably proud of you roo ❤️

y/nnnn thank you badger ☹️

glenpowell such an honor to work with you!

y/nnnn i can say the same!

y/nhater don't you think that her and glen are too close to be co-stars?

y/nhater2 i'm thinking the same thing there's no way she didn't cheat

y/nfan wtf are u talking ab? y/n would NOT do that to danny they are happy together

lewishamilton free tickets 👀

landonorris 👀

maxverstappen1 👀

charles_leclerc 👀

y/nnnn sonypictures what do you think?

sonypictures I'm sure we can work something out.

danielricciardo

liked by y/nnnn, glenpowell, landonorris, scottyjames31, and 3,421,874 others

tagged: y/nnnn

words cannot express how proud i am of you, my love. you have poured so much blood, sweat, and tears into this movie. i know it has been hard, especially the long shoot hours, the frantic facetimes in between scenes can vouch for that and so can the texts. i will definitely miss the on-set pictures/updates.

i love you so much y/n. i don't know how i could be any prouder. p.s. i better get a private showing if you know what i mean 😉

view 831,341 comments

landonorris gross there are children on this app

hunterschafer cutie pies

zendaya is that blond single?

danielricciardo not atm no get in line

y/nnnn danny be nice.

danielricciardo sry love 🫡

y/nfan LMAO

georgerussell63 get a room 🤮

drlover she is such a slut

alexademie actual goals

y/nnnn awe danny i love you too

y/nnnn definitely NOT crying right now!!!

lewishamilton she is lying she facetimed me SOBBING

y/nnn i called you in CONFIDENCE. CONFIDENCE LEWIS.

y/nnnn you are the sweetest, most supportive person i have ever met. i could not have gotten through this without you ❤

danielricciardo there is no one else i rather support ❤

y/ndanny they are meant for each other

y/nhater what a fucking whore

y/ndanny2 the best couple

─ TWITTER ↴

─ IMESSAGE ↴

─ TWITTER ↴

imessage ↴

—————————————————————

Unknown Contact i stole ur mans 😜

—————————————————————

lexieee 😚 i am so so sorry my love, he didnt deserve you ❤️

—————————————————————

Lando Norris He treated you like shit anyways

—————————————————————

alrighty, finished! thank you so much for reading, so sorry for the radio silence, ive been super unmotivated and consumed with school 💔 anyways, requests and feedback are welcome! make sure to leave a comment and kudos as well (only if you want :P)

882 notes · View notes

writa-anon · 2 months

Text

"is that.. supposed to be me?"

francis mosses (the milkman) x artist!reader

a / n ~ boom! first fanfic :3 i was a little inspired by uh.. myself LOL when i started playing tnmn i realized i was horrible at memorizing faces so i started drawing the characters to help me remember and it works sooo much. but anyway, super cute oneshot where they first meet, hope u enjoy :D

content included ~ isaack mauss, francis mosses, reader is an artist and doorman, no pronouns mentioned for reader, use of (y/n), shy n wholesome first encounter

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 4.10.24 | 1.6k words

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Another slow day at work, huh?”

A enthusiatic-ridden voice boomed, instinctively making me look up to meet the gaze of a strong-jawlined man. I cleared my throat and placed my pencil on the scratchy sheet of paper, sitting up in my chair.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Gauss.” I greeted, grinning that customer-service smile.

“Good afternoon, (y/n). I assume work is treating you well?” He said before sliding both his ID and request form through the letter hole. “Only your third day and you’re occupying yourself with side hobbies!” He exclaimed, squinting a little to see my doodle through the glass screen. I chuckled a little as I examined his ID.

“Eh, yeah..” I sighed. “But this actually helps with my job, believe it or not!” I said proudly, pulling out the floor 2 folder to compare his ID number. “I’ve been drawing neighbors in order to remember their features better. It’s especially helpful because of my terrible memory.” I said, shaking my head. Isaack simply chuckled as I placed the folder to the side as I went through his request form.

“That’s pretty smart.” He commented. “Who have you drawn so far?” He asked, curiously tilting his head. As I went through the checklist as I idly thought to myself.

“Umm..” I hummed. “The Schmitts and the Mikaelys are definitely in here.” I finished up the last check before rolling back to my sketchbook, using my finger to thumb through the pages.

“Unfortunate. I haven’t been drawn yet.” He faked pouted. I rolled my eyes before flipping one or two pages before presenting the portrait to him.

“I’m not necessarily finish. Your face is pretty hard to encapture.” I sighed, looking at the smears of led blended together. Isaack was something of a character: a big prominent smile that is not hard to catch a glimpse of in a room full of people. His hair perfectly styled each morning that still manages to maintain its shape by the end of the day. His voice had depth to it, almost like he was born to be the daily news reporter for radios and TVs of all kind. He stared at the drawing in satisfied awe before leaning back.

“Wow, it surely is accurate!” He beamed. I smiled proudly before placing my sketchbook down.

“Thank you,” I politely nodded. I slid his ID back through the letter box. “Everything seems to be good to go. You’re allowed in, Mr. Gauss.” He nodded in his head in gratitude, but however, did not my window just yet. He took a minute to ponder, as if contemplating his next move, before beaming his teeth once again.

“Ah, before I go,” he quickly inputed. “is there by chance Francis Mosses is on today’s list? He’s the local milkman around here.”

I raised my eyebrow a little, not exactly sure as to why Isaack chose to bring up this person’s name. I shook my head gently before folding my arms in front of me. “I’m sorry, Mr. Gauss, but I’m afraid I cannot disclose that information for you.”

“—Ah, of course.” Isaack quickly fixed himself, putting his hands up a little in defense. “I understand. I was just curious is all. I’m sure you know him though, no?” Thinking for a minute, I’ve realized that this is a neighbor I have not encountered yet.

“No, actually..” I pondered out loud. “Huh, that’s interesting. I guess he works a morning or night shift because the name doesn’t really ring a bell.” I noted out loud.

“Interesting.” He muttered. “Well, keep the name in mind. He’s a rather interesting person, and I think you would find him just as interesting.” Before I could say anything else, he gestured a quick wink before walking through the unlocked door. I quickly snapped out my thoughts before locking the door back up again.

Isaack never really mentioned other names— it wasn’t necessarily out of character, but it felt a little outlandish. I looked down to see my pencil in hand again and blank surface of paper. My eyes trailed over to the paper taped on to the wall next to my window, realizing that Frances was in fact on today’s check-in list. Out of curiousity, I located his room number before surfing through the folders. After locating folder 3 and apartment 02, I was able to find more about him.

He was a slim, tall man with a crooked nose and ruffled brown hair. His eye bags were prominent from what I assume to be lack of sleep. As I stared at his picture, my hand moved by itself across my sketchbook, forming a circle to start defining out the headshape. I squinted slightly, trying to feel for each detail in his face. From the way his eyebrows were rotated a little outward, defining more of his tired expression, to the bump in his nose bridge, making it a bit more interesting to draw. It was mesmerizing, almost wishing I could sit here and draw his face in perso—

tap, tap!

I nearly jumped out of my seat. The pencil flung out of my hand, rolling off of the desk. My eyes flickered up—

and there he was.

My breath near caught in my throat as I stared up in shock. The man behind the glass was barely shocked to see my reaction. His white “milkman” hat rested perfectly on top of his brown hair with small curls slightly peaking out. I was swift to regain my composure in my head as I folded my hands in front of me with my legs crossed under the desk.

“Good afternoon, sir.” I smiled. “I haven’t seen you before. ID and entry request?”

He let out a small hum, barricaded by his pink lips, as he took out his paper and ID. He politely slid them through the letter slot before I took the items to examine.

“Mr. Francis Mosses.. Lives on floor 03.. Room 02.. Coming from work as a milkman.” I glanced up to look at him, comparing the photo ID to his face. His expression was exactly alike: tired eyes, slight frown on the lips, crooked nose, and a clean shaven face. I double checked with his file already on my desk, making sure that the ID numbers and the description aligned with his ID. “Everything looks good.” I confirmed as I slid his ID back to him.

“Mmm.. Thank you.” He hummed. I turned around to place his request form in a folder, but once I sat back up, I realized he was still standing at the window, curiously staring through the glass. I raised my eyebrow a little, confused as to why he was still lingering.

“I’m sorry, did I forget something?” I asked. Francis shook his head before pointing down at my desk.

“Is that.. Supposed to be me?” He asked. A tiny bit of emotion seeped into his voice, dripping in interest and curiousity.

“I— oh—” I looked down to see the rough drawing of Francis sitting at my desk, drawn with sketch lines still lightly defining his features, while the harder drawn areas sculpted his prominent details. “Yeah..” I mumbled. “I-I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable!” I exclaimed. “It’s just a way to help me remember faces and I was going through the files and I realized I haven’t met you before so I—”

“You make me look so pretty.” He mumbled, almost breathlessly. A faint pink color brushed his cheeks as he was unable to take his gaze away from the paper.

“W-Well.. I do aim for accuracy.” I chuckled, complimenting the man right back. My nerves had calmed down after noticing his calm demeanor. “You could keep it, if you’d like that is.” I offered. It would be awkward if I kept the drawing rather than give it to him— I mean— this is his first time ever seeing me and it was an awkward first interaction right off the bat. It was the least I could do for him. Francis nodded his head and in response, I tore the piece of paper out of the scrapbook before sliding it through the letter slot.

“There you go.” I smiled.

“Thank you..” He replied, graciously taking the piece of paper and admiring it once again. “Oh— um,” He quickly looked up to me. “What is your name? I’m sorry, I’m not really good with.. Introductions.” He trailed off, but something about his shyness and reluctant voice made me grin even harder.

“My name is (y/n). I’m the doorman in training for this building.” I greeted.

“Ah, of course. I’m Francis— Mmm..Though you already know that.” He said, shaking his head a little by the end of his sentence.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Francis. I’ll be seeing you around, I assume?” I said, sitting at the edge of my chair as I looked up at him.

“More often than before.” He smiled. It was the widest he’d grin throughout our whole conversation. Something inside me told me that he doesn’t pass around smiles like that easily. It made me feel accomplished in some sort of way. But with that, he departed from my window. I made sure to unlock the door and listen for the door closing behind him before locking it again.

Francis Mosses.

I think I have someone to look forward to on tomorrow’s entry list.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

really hoped you enjoyed! replies, reblogs, and even likes are super appreciated! thank you so much for reading :]

#thats not my neighbour milkman #thats not my neighbor #milkman #tnmn #tnmn milkman #francis mosses x you #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses #isaack gauss #oneshot #fanfiction #milkman x reader

667 notes · View notes

caesium-55 · 2 months

Text

—seven days. [ iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

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

author's note: hi hello welcome to part three. i flunked the quiz. lemme know what you think. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED. this chapter kinda sux. can't believe i went through a breakup just last week and i still cant write decent post-breakup scenes.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab hope i didn't forget anyone.

masterlist.

you: *sent a link*

him: ?

him: what's this

you: benefits of crying

you: read it it's enlightening

him: some people do not cry over a breakup you know and that is totally okay

you: why crying helps.

you: 1. tears release toxins, stress hormones to be specific. it is good to let all the bad energy out.

you: 2. it aids sleep. no need for further explanation.

you: 3. crying releases oxytocin and endorphins. i know you don't know what an oxytocin or an endorphin is but they're happy chemicals.

you: 4. crying helps you receive the support you need from the people around you. EMOTIONAL VULNERABILITY is okay, max. stop treating it like an STD.

him: it feels like an std

you: pussy

you: emotional vulnerability is a thing and it's normal so stop trying to be a big strong man when you're barely holding it together.

you: you may look fine now but i know you

him: please stop

you: no

you: 5. crying has a self soothing effect. very nice actually. it activates the rest and digest system.

him: what even is that

you: the parasympathetic nervous system

him: ??

you: this is why you shouldn't have dropped out of high school

you: education is important yknow

you: youre already lacking in three forms of intelligence, academic, emotional n social intelligence

him: fuck you im smart

you: fuck you 2 and yeah you're smart but only in geography

you: you probably can't do your taxes

him: im dutch so the company's account department do it for me by default

him: the american system is just weird

you: cant argue w/ u there

you: also, 6. crying helps restore emotional balance

you: see? you need that

you: yknow now that i think abt it you should consider seeking therapy

him: what makes you think i’m not in therapy right now

you: well have you considered getting MORE therapy?

You stand in front of the body mirror, holding the Red Bull polo shirt against your body to see how it looks on you for one last time. On your right sleeve, the word MANAGER is written in bold, white text. Because that was what you were. Just a manager.

In another universe this is not the shirt that you’d be wearing. The MANAGER would have been ENGINEER. In another another universe where your family has been well-off enough to continuously send you to karting school and you would have been the one driving the fucking car by now.

You know, if Max has even tried talking to Horner and suggested that you should be moved into the engineering team, then you wouldn't be stuck wearing this god-awful polo that burned your skin every time you wore it for work. Everybody reduced you as Max’s American manager and because you are American, most of them kind of just assumed that you're dumb, you know?

Does the world even know how smart you are? That you graduated top of your class, got the best thesis award, and that you had finished your masters just this year? Did they even know that a Japanese car company wanted you on their research team? That a NASCAR team wanted you on board as one of their engineers? Does Max even know?

Fuck no. He only knows that you're the best at ironing clothes and organizing his Google calendar and memorizing his entire coffee order by heart. He knew you're good at extinguishing kitchen fires and kicking ass in YSL Opyum heels. You doubt he knows that you can do Calculus in your sleep.

You can take it if the world puts you down for your appearance. But if the world puts you down because of your intellect? That's a different story. You'll take any insult to the face but not to your intelligence.

You have four days left in Monaco so you have begun packing already. You're right, everything did fit into three suitcases. Also, you haven't told Max yet. For some reason, you’re too anxious. Which is shocking to say the least because you never ever gets anxious when it came to Max Verstappen. You wouldn't have lasted this long working alongside Max if you were a pussy.

Max Max Max Super Max Max—

“[Name] here. Need anythin’, champ?”

Hearing a sob on the other end of the line immediately activates your fight or flight response. Your eyes widen and you toss the Red Bull shirt aside. Your legs leads you to the nearly empty shoe rack stationed beside the front door, grabbing the pair of shoes at the very top of the tiny shelf and throwing them on.

“I’m comin’ there. Hang on, Max. You wait for me, okay?”

He doesn't answer, just continuing to sob and the sound absolutely breaks your heart.

You run to his penthouse at a speed that will even put the RB19 to shame. Not even bothering to knock, you barge in and yell his name in the empty halls of his penthouse. You search in the kitchen. He's not there. The living room. Not there either. The room where his simulations are. Not there. You run to his bedroom upstairs.

The door is locked. Dammit. Panic overflooded your system.

“Max, sweetheart, you there?”

No answer, but you can hear a faint sound behind the door if you press your ear against the wood. Firefighter training covered how to open a fucking door when it was locked so this once again becomes a situation where you're grateful that you did that tiring and borderline suicidal volunteer work.

Max keeps a fire extinguisher inside his penthouse as per your advice. There is one stationed in almost every room inside his house. You knew there is one inside his room and another one just at the end of the hallway. You make a quick run for it and once you have the extinguisher in your hands, you run back to his door.

“Step away from the door!” you instructed while your mind mentally calculates your payment plan as you hit the door knob with so much force, the walls tremble at your strength. You're functioning on pure adrenaline. Your instincts only yell one thing and that is: go to Max. No one and nothing in this world will keep you from him. It isn't long until his bedroom door broke down. With one last final kick, it crumbles down from its hinges and you forcefully pry it open and sprint inside.

Max tucks himself in the tiny space in the corner of his huge bedroom, his knees shoved up to his chest. A 181-cm tall man trying to make himself as small as possible.

This is it. This is the bottled-up emotions he's been storing since Abu Dhabi. You cannot say you have not anticipated this. Max is bound to explode sooner or later.

Panic attacks have made a home in Max’s body since he was a child. That's what one gets when they’re parented by someone like Jos Verstappen. He killed Max’s soul and made the boy a machine and for what? To shape a child into a man, a racer that he wanted to be but failed to become at the cost of Max's mental health and childhood.

When Max looks up with that heartbreaking look on his face, you almost crumble. Almost, because you cannot crumble. Not when Max needs you.

Sometimes, you forget what it took for Max to become the champion that he is today. A childhood sacrificed for his dominance on the tracks. A whole lot of hatred from the people to become a WDC. And now, a love lost for his third consecutive championship.

“You came,” his voice cracks towards the end.

Your eyes soften, “You called, Max. Course I’ll come.”

You barely brace yourself for the impact that is Max’s body wrapping around yours in a tight hug. The man have literally launch himself from the floor to you at sixth gear speed. You stumble backwards slightly, holding his bed for support so the both of you won't fall down.

“Max—”

“No,” he whispers and his grip on your tightens as if he's afraid that you’ll slip away if he even tried to give your lungs space to breathe. “Don't speak. Stay.”

What Max wanted, what Max would get. So you shut your mouth, shuffle slightly so he'll be in a more comfortable position and allow him take whatever he wants from you. This will be the last chance he’ll ever do it anyway because in four days time, you’re flying to Texas.

You stay for what is probably hours in that position. Crumbled together on the floor, leaning against the side of Max’s king-sized bed. Your shirt is completely damp from his tears but you cannot even bring yourself to care about it.

“Your shoes…” It's the first time Max has spoken since the start of his meltdown.

“Hm?” you turn your head and your nose nuzzles against his hair, making you scrunch it up a little. His hair is tickling your nostrils. If you lean a little forward, your lips will meet the skin of his temple.

“They’re mismatched.”

Brows furrowed, your eyes move to your feet and see that Max is right. Your shoes are indeed mismatched. On your left is one of your Adidas slides and the other is your slip-on Skechers. You ran from one building to another in mismatched shoes. Fucking embarassing.

“Ignore them.”

Silence.

“You good now?”

“No.”

“Okay,” you say. “If you want to talk, I’ll listen.”

You hear Max let out a shaky breath, “Just stay for a while. Don't leave me alone.”

“Okay.”

Eventually, you manage to talk Max out of the hug. You're beginning to feel claustrophobic but you do not want to say it out right so you try to negotiate instead. That's how you and Max found yourselves inside his kitchen again. You're trying to replicate your Abuela's cheesecake, which she was known for back in Austin, and Max is…well, he's Max and he’s trying to be helpful in any way he can. If it's some other day, you'd have shoved him out of the way because you prefer working alone in the kitchen. Having eyes on you gives you anxiety. But given today’s circumstances, you do not have the heart to make Max leave so you task him with doing the little stuff like mixing things and throwing shit to the trash can nearby. And he does so splendidly.

“Thank you, by the way.”

“For what, baby?” You internally wince at your own slip of the tongue. Damn that habit of yours of calling people with affectionate call signs. Thankfully, Max seems to have not noticed it.

“For coming here.”

You shrug.

“I only did what you did for me in 2021.”

Again, your breakup with Leo was bad bad. You spent a month crying for a love lost and Max was there for you. For the most part, at least. You want him to focus on winning and winning alone that you pushed him away a lot of times but you appreciated how he was more obedient to your commands, that he held his tongue so he wouldn't piss you off even though he was not liking your words, and that he was considerate of you.

“I hope you won't go into fights though,” you chuckle. “Like I did after my breakup.”

He smiles, shaking his head lightly and you know he's recalling the memory. 2021 is a hilarious year for you, the Red Bull manager. You went viral after getting into a cat fight with a girl and a whole fist fight with her boyfriend.

You and Leo called it quits a week before Monaco and even though it had been four races since then, your heart was still in a quite fragile state at that specific race weekend. One minor inconvenience was enough to ignite a wild blaze of fire within you and nobody could extinguish the flames.

After Silverstone FP1, you were leading Max to the cool down room to brief him with Horner’s relayed instructions and someone had thrown a glass bottle towards the both of you while walking. Originally, Max was the main target of the bottle but you happened to have moved towards the line of trajectory and the bottle landed on your temple, hard enough that you stumbled upon impact.

You barely heard Max’s shocked gasp and shout of panic over the sound of glass shattering on your foot because the only thing you could register was the terrifying feeling of a thick liquid trickling down the side of your face and you didn't even need to see it to know it was blood.

The only thing you saw was red and it was on fucking sight.

Fucking Hamilton fan. Fucking Hamilton. He’s in Max’s way. He’s in your way. He’s the wall that was dividing you from your dream position in the engineering team.

You shoved the iPad you were holding to Max’s hands and marched down to the woman wearing the Merc #44 merch, swiftly jumping over the barricade and grabbing her by the collar of her pristine white Versace top.

The events that followed were too fast. You grabbed her collar. She pulled your hair. You also pulled her hair. Someone pulled her away from you. You tried to grab her, clawing her bare arms with your manicured nails. She screamed. You screamed back. You pulled out some curse words in Spanish as well because cursing her in one language alone is not enough. Her boyfriend appeared. A quick punch to your cheek. You fell to the ground.

The world stood still. There was a sting on your palm because your skin got torn from the hard surface of the concrete ground. You let a bloodcurdling war cry and your Dad would definitely be disappointed at you for using the boxing techniques he taught you for self defense purposes only to fight a guy two times your size.

Everything was a bigger blur from there. But you did remember the sensation of Max’s strong arms around you, stopping you from lunging forward again. He was saying sweet words to your ear to calm you down but your brain failed to intercept them so you could hear the words, could hear his voice, but not understand any of it. You remember Christian Horner's disappointed face that haunted you even two years later. You remembered feeling so terrified as you sat outside Christian Horner’s office waiting for the final verdict while he and Max and a few of the Red Bull higher-ups argued about your future with the team. You remembered hearing Max’s loud snarl on the other side of the mahogany door: “Did you see her face?! There was blood everywhere! On her nose, on her mouth, on the fucking side of her head!” You remembered the girl taking the case to court. You remembered fearing that you’d be sent to jail. You remembered that she lost the case because it was ruled as self defense and your injuries were grave. You remembered discovering that it was Max who used all his power and got the best lawyer to fight your case. You remembered the atmosphere in the Red Bull garage shifting when you entered it a few weeks later and everyone stared the bandages and bruises. Everyone thought one thing: of course, it would also take a monster to manage a monster like Max Verstappen. You remembered Lewis Hamilton, seven-time world champion, apologizing personally for the fight caused by his own fan. He didn't need to but he was so sincere with it that you cried when he handed you the apology flowers. God, how could you even hate this man? Your anger towards him was misplaced.

You’d been living with the guilt ever since, that you were horrifyingly violent for a day, that you were capable of killing for a day. And it could happen again. One day. God, you hoped you wouldn't have to see that day. You knew all your coworkers have been careful with angering you ever since. They're terrified of you even. Max should be, too. But then again, why would he when he already saw the horrors done by his father’s hands ever since he was a child? He was used to it.

“I won't,” he says, smiling at you. “I wouldn't want to add anymore problems for you to clean up.”

But you will not be the one cleaning it up because you resigned. You didn’t tell that to him though. Not right now. He just had a meltdown over Kelly leaving him and the news of his manager leaving him too will destroy him.

The cheesecake is a little burnt when you take it out of the oven but it actually adds more flavor to it so yeah, that's a win.

“We should drink,” you suggest.

“It’s mid-afternoon.”

“We drank at mid-afternoon yesterday,” you give him a blank stare. “With Alex and Charles, remember?”

He doesn't say anything as you make your way to his fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. Max has champagne stored somewhere but you have enough of those expensive champagnes. You need beer. Beer is good. Beer is nice. You're a beer type of person and it is time Max becomes one, too.

“I’m no scientist,” you begin, biting off the beer’s bottle cap. “But according to chemistry, alcohol is solution.”

Well, technically, edible alcohol or ethanol is not a mixture. Rather, it's a pure substance that happens to be a liquid at room temperature and typical atmospheric pressure. Pure ethanol is not a solution. Hard spirits though? That's a solution.

Beer is not a hard spirit. It's more of a fermented drink. But Max doesn't know that, though, so you don't bother explaining the science behind it.

Somewhere down the road, the two of you move to his living room. You use the Youtube app in his TV to search karaoke video and have the bestest time of your lives. You're screaming along some Daddy Yankee and El Alfa songs and Max doesn't know how to speak Spanish so he’s just vibing to it.

At 5 PM, you pull out Max’s expensive vodka bottle. Now this is the real shit. The ten bottles of beer? Those are just pregame. Max is already drunk with just those because he’s a pussy but you’re no pussy, so the only right answer is vodka! Viva la vodka or whatever.

Your throat gets tired of singing and Max gets tired from dancing, too, so you both decide to just go entertain yourselves in other ways. First, you introduced Max to beer-pong. He loses, of course. He sucks at everything not racing. Then, the two of you move onto chess. Max gives up mid-game. He cannot understand the rules. Then, lastly, you move to the billiard table Max owned. He only used it when the other guys are over and you do not even know why he bought it when he sucked at playing billiards.

“You know what Kelly said the morning before the race?” Max suddenly says and you look up at him, brow raising slightly. He’s drunk; his skin is flushed and he is all giggly and smile-y as he sits on the billiard table’s side rail and using the billiard stick as some sort of support stand to keep him from falling. You hope he won't accidentally poke himself. You're no better, too. Ten beer bottles and a few glasses of vodka. But you’re not as drunk as Max, and you still have a straight vision and you can still sink the colored balls into the pockets of the billiard table.

“Hm?”

“That it was unfair for her.”

You raise a questioning brow, “Why?”

“I bought shoes and they don't fit her.”

You blink. He laughs at himself as if he has uttered the funniest joke in the world.

“Three years of relationship gone because of a single pair of shoes,” he continues. “She wanted those shoes, too.”

Kelly….what the fuck?

“But that's okay. She….She made me open my eyes, you know? She made me realize what I truly love.”

“Racing.” It's not even a question. It's the truth.

Max stares at you, long and hard, and you look away first because you fear that if you allow yourself to stare too long, you’ll drown in those beautiful blues. This is enough heartache for the day. No need to add more.

“Hey [Name],” he begins. “If I asked you to kiss me, would you do it?”

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

562 notes · View notes

pandoraslxna · 9 months

Note

ohh my!! \(°o°:)/ I loved "sharing is caring"! , I was wondering if u could do more spider smut, please!!(no rush tho! <3)

The Na‘vi way

adult Spider x female recom reader

Words: 2.7k

Summary: To walk, eat, talk and even think like a Na‘vi, that was one thing. But to dress like one? That was a whole new level of commitment just to get this job done.

Warnings: explicit smut, just a small size difference, oral (f receiving), masturbating, fingering, praise kink, teasing, sexual tension, semi-public, hair pulling, tail pulling, Spider is a smug little bastard

Notes: I just realized that I completely forgot about Spiders mask so let’s just pretend he can breathe just fine without it… 🤦🏻‍♀️ Anyways, as you can see I‘m still not that confident in my ability to write for Spider and it somehow feels like he’s not as characteristically accurate as Id like him to be, but I still hope you guys will enjoy this! Let me know what you think pls I’d love to improve my spidey writing skills lmao 🥴

"This is ridiculous…", you mumbled as you peered down on yourself.

To walk, eat, talk and even think like a Na‘vi, that was one thing. To be fair, it was an easier said than done task for your squad. But to dress like one? This was a whole new level of commitment just to get this job done!

Spider thought it was amusing, watching the recoms get used to wearing loincloths and such, all in order to put themselves into their enemies position. That was, until it was your turn to get dressed. Or, well, get undressed.

Spider couldn’t help but stare at you for a good while, now wearing a loincloth and also a skimpy woven top that barely covered more than a few inches of skin. You were seemingly having a hard time getting comfortable with your new clothes, as you were trying your absolute most to hide yourself with your arms crossed over your chest.

He was used to seeing omatikaya women in less coverings than that, but still. There was just something about you showing that much amount of bare skin that had him feeling a little dizzy.

Snapping out of his thoughts before you could even realize that he was ogling at you, Spider cleared his throat, "It’s not ridiculous. Now you actually look like true Na‘vi."

"Lookin' good, buttercup", comes from beside you both, with a snickering laugh that made your cheeks light up bright red. "Fuck off, Wainfleet", you grumbled, "Let’s just get this over with…"

The idea was, to spend an entire day learning how to hunt, with nothing more than a bow and arrows, while also being dressed like a bunch of wannabe Na‘vi. Truth be told, Spider didn’t know if that would actually help them dealing with Jake, but it wasn’t like he was ever planning on actually helping them and betray his (more or less) adoptive family. After all, he was nothing more than a prisoner of war and maybe that was his payback for the way they had treated him so far. Couldn’t hurt to make a little fun out of a group of recoms that had no idea what they were even doing out here, right?

For someone who wasn’t even used to handling guns and such, you did pretty well with a bow.

As far as Quaritch had introduced his squad to him, Spider knew that you were some sort of combat medic, usually just jumping around to treat injuries and make sure nobody dies under your watch. You worked with the military, but you weren’t a soldier. You were also around an head or two smaller than the other woman, Zdinarsk or whatever her name was, which was a nice change, because for once Spider didn’t need to crane his neck entirely to talk to someone. You were pretty much eye level with him, in more than just one way. Compared to the others, you were friendly and kind, and at least you tried to be thoughtful of the environment out here.

When the eclipse neared, the recoms began to set up a small camp in the forest to rest for the night, finally done with todays 'lessons'. There was a river gurgling by and when the Colonel gave permission, you separated from the others to get washed up and redress.

"Oh, no. No. That’s not happening", Spider shakes his head at Lyle who was currently about to set up a small campfire. "What now, pinky?", the recom barks at him, haltering all movements to look at the human with painted on stripes.

"No fire in the forest, bro. That’s an unspoken rule. You’re gonna get us killed if—", Spider tried to warn him, but was cut off short, by the sound of someone calling his name in the distance. Turning to it’s direction and then back to Weinfleet, he points a warning finger at him and says, "no fire", before he’s off to whom had called him.

A little further away, down at the river, he finds you. Your brows are furrowed in what seems to be concentration and frustration at the same time. As he steps closer, he spots the source of your distress.

"Spider, oh thank god. Could you help me with this, please", you grumble, your hands busy fumbling with the tangled cords of your loincloth. "I can’t get this shit off…" The blonde can’t help but laugh when you groan in frustration.

"You have to untie it like this. No, no like—", he tries to verbally guide you, but you seemingly make things worse with the way you impatiently pull at each tiny knot, the strings now tangled between your legs and over your hips. It’s a mess.

"Here, let me help you", Spider then sighs and lowers himself onto one knee before you.

Normally, the woven cords that hold the cloth covering your crotch in place are supposed to be wrapped around your tail. Thanks to whatever you did, or tried to do here, they were now wrapped and tangled around one of your thighs.

"Open your legs a little", he tells you and you do as your told, making room so he could untangle you from this mess. One of his hands is firm on your thigh and you try to ignore the warmth of his palm and the way he unintentionally squeezes the soft of you flesh, while his other hand flips your loincloth up. "Hold this", Spider doesn’t wait for you to respond, already shoving the piece of fabric into your hands to hold it up and out of the way.

He’s entirely too close like this, you think.

You could feel his breath fan over your skin, his thumb on the inside of your thigh, while his other hand reached back and forth between your legs, slowly untangling you.

You had to admit, it’s been a while since the last time someone came this close to you, which made the whole situation so much… worse. Adverting your gaze from the man crouching in front of you, you tried to think of anything else than his hands so incredibly close to your private parts and the way it made you feel so on edge, that you had to concentrate on your breathing.

Meanwhile, Spider attempted to find something to focus on other than the textured rope holding the two halves of your loincloth together. It rode low. Pinching the flesh over your hipbones, like it was squeezing, teasing. There was also his hand, both of them entirely too close to your—

Glancing up, he found your eyebrows scrunched together as if you were concentrating very hard. You looked up at the sky and your chest raised and fell in deep breaths, seemingly trying to calm yourself.

You couldn’t have been more obvious if you tried.

With a hand still firm on your thigh, Spider gently squeezes the soft flesh to test the waters. A smug grin spreads on his face when you don’t immediately tell him to stop, your eyes still glued to anywhere but him. He knows it’s risky, knows it’s probably not the best idea, but he can’t help himself. His hand moves a little higher, until his thumb is barely an inch away from the thin cloth covering your sex. He traces the outline of your cunt, just a teasing touch that, if your senses weren’t on high alert already, you wouldn’t even have noticed.

A small gasp escapes you, when he adds a little more pressure on his thumb, but you still don’t tell him to stop. You only shift your stance slightly, your hands still holding the front of your loincloth in a tight grip. A task for which you were grateful for, otherwise you wouldn’t even know what to do with your hands.

Spider gently brushes his digit over the thin covering between your legs, feeling the delicate outline of your clit, until a small wet patch formed right there. A mouth watering sight. He watches intensely, how you let your head fall back, how you squeeze your eyes shut and a deep blush spreads on your blue cheeks that made them look a little purplish. He had to admit, you were adorable like this.

Dutiful to his task, he then pulls his hand away in order to untie the final string, and your loincloth slowly falls off of you.

"There, all done", the blonde says softly, smiling up at you. A beat passes in silence, with just the two of you looking at each other, and Spiders hands still firm on your thigh. Your lips are parted slightly, as if you were trying to say something, but your voice was nowhere to be found. His thumb rubs gentle circles over the soft blue skin of your inner thigh, and you exhale a shaky breath. The blush on your cheeks deepens, when his gaze falls to the glistening folds of your cunt, right in front of his face, and then back up at you.

"Can I?", he asks, to which you nod and whisper a breathless, "please."

It’s all he needs to hear to return his hand between your thighs, index finger swiping through your folds to locate your clit. His fingertip circles the tiny nub gently, while he pays close attention to the buckle of your knees when he touches it just right. Arousal begins to heat up your blood as he slides his digits from your clit to your entrance. Your breath hitches.

"You’re so wet", Spider murmurs, grinning, "Did you enjoy walking around like that today?"

"Shut up…", you whisper, although it sounds more like a whimper to him. With a chuckle, he continues his teasing touches, running a hand up and down your thigh while the other smears your slick back and forth.

His fingertips are featherlight as they tease the little nub of pleasure, drawing circles around it before he slides them back and dips them into you– just an inch, and your legs tremble. There’s a sound coming from deep within your chest as he repeats the same motion again, and it almost sounds like—

"Are you purring?", Spider snickers, "Fuck, that’s so cute." Before you can talk back however, his face inches closer and then his tongue darts out to give a kitten lick to your clit. Instantly, your hands fist into his locks to anchor yourself. A breathless moan slips past your lips once he flattens his tongue against you, groaning at the taste.

"Spider, the– the others…", you swallow thickly, trying to collect your rapid breathing, "they’re going to hear!"

"Hmh", he hums in agreement, glancing up to give you a teasing wink. "Guess you‘ll have to be more quiet then."

His mouth his back on you in a heartbeat, lips closing around your clit and then he sucks and your eyes flutter close in bliss. You have to bite down on your bottom lip, hard, in order to stay quiet, but it only gets worse when he finally inserts a finger into you.

"Oh, holy shit", you moan, quickly clasping a hand over your mouth.

Then, he wriggles a second finger in beside the first one, and starts to ease them out together, then back in, a slow, slick push. You squirm, high pitched moans falling from your lips, muffled against your palm, and then a choked and breathless noise as Spider settles into a slow rhythm, pushing in deep and curving to brush something inside you that has you clenching greedily around the digits.

Meanwhile his tongue continues to lap at your clit, rolling it over every inch of the wet, warm muscle before closing his lips around it again. He sucks, kisses and slurps and it’s so obscene, you can barely look.

It feels so good every time he curves his fingers into you, hooking and pressing at that special spot, that you don’t even realize how hard you had been pulling on his hair. But Spider doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he’s groaning into you like he enjoys this more than you do.

Your mind felt fuzzy, clouded with the squelching sounds he expertly worked out of your pussy until you were gasping and panting for air.

"S-Spider I‘m– wait, I‘m close, I’m gonna come", you half whisper, half whine, tugging his hair to make him stop for a second to look up at you.

His pupils are almost completely blown as his gaze meets yours, the bottom half of his face glistening in your slick and that smug little bastard has the nerve to smirk like a cat that got the cream.

"And?", he raises a brow, almost making a show out of licking his lips clean.

"You didn’t, I mean… you still haven’t–"

"That’s why you’re making me stop?", he chuckles like he can’t believe it, but then his eyes flash like an idea pops up in his mind.

The hand that had been resting on your thigh moves, slides down your leg before it finds the waistband of his own loincloth. With half lidded eyes you watch him pull his cock out, hard and leaking pre-cum in rich droplets that ooze from the slit of his tip, and you catch yourself swallowing at the sight.

Spiders hand closes tight around his shaft, giving himself a slow tug that makes him moan softly, and then his mouth is back on you. He’s stroking himself now, to the rhythm of his fingers that are pumping in and out of you. The low groans coming from him vibrates against your clit and you throw your head back at the pleasurable feeling.

He’s incredibly skilled with his mouth, you realize, aiming just right with the pointy tip of his tongue as he swipes over your clit in fast, tight circles. With the way he simultaneously scissors you open, it’s no surprise how quickly he can get you close again.

"F-Fuck, oh fucking hell", you moan in a whisper, "So good, feels so good! Oh– my god!"

Spiders cock throbs in his fist at the sound of your praise and he strokes himself faster, harder, teasing the slit with his thumb, imagining it’s your tongue instead. His eyes are shut and his brows are knit together in concentration as he makes out with your clit, feeling it twitch on his tongue and your walls spams around his digits.

He’s full on groaning, grinding his face between your thighs as he feels his own orgasm approach, he just needs a little more, just—

"C’mon, pretty. Come for me", he muffles almost desperately against you, fingers curling against your sweet spot at just the right angle and then you tug on his hair to get his lips back to your clit and that’s all it takes. With a hand clasped tight over your mouth to muffle your screams of pleasure, coming undone on his tongue, clamping down on his fingers and sending him clean over the edge with you.

Hips raising and pushing up into his fist, Spider comes with a choked off groan, sucking on your clit so hard it felt like you were going to collapse if he didn’t let up anytime soon.

"O-Okay, okay, fuck– Spider, s-stop", you half giggle, half moan, before he finally withdraws from between your thighs with a last kiss that makes your hips buck into it.

"Holy shit, where did you learn that?", you laugh breathlessly, genuinely impressed, as you watch him rearrange his loincloth and straighten back up.

But Spider just shrugs sheepishly and grins, "Well… it’s hard being the only one of the very few humans in the village. I had to find some way to impress, you know?"

"Hmh, I see", you giggle, nodding along. There’s a moment of comfortable silence that follows, and as you bend down to pick up your clothes. But then a warm hand settles on your hips.

A smiles tugs on your lips.

"I could show you what else I’ve learned", Spider murmurs, tilting his head to meet your eyes over your shoulder. You glance back at him, watching as he steps closer until his crotch makes contact with the curve of your ass. "Could show you the real Na’vi way." He smirks, then adds, "If you want."

His fingertips trace the arch of your spine until he reaches the base of your tail, where he closes his hand around it and tugs, firm but gentle. But it’s enough to send a full on body shiver through you, and your eyes widen in surprise as you feel a familiar tingle between your thighs.

Well. That’s new.

1K notes · View notes