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#private flight to miami
genderplugin · 7 months
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me when i beat the pretending to be a girl allegations >>>>>
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violetrainbow412-blog · 11 months
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Bolinus brandaris [S. R]
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
word count: 1.6k
and by public demand, part. 2
summary: Reid loves the gift you just gave him and the whole team can notice.
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"Everyone ready to go back?" Gideon asked, taking a quick look at the jet to make sure all of you were there. You had an extortion case quite far from home, Miami to be exact, and you had a long flight back to Quantico, so the last thing he wanted was to forget someone.
Miami was a beautiful place that you would have liked to visit in other circumstances, that had nothing to do with crimes at all, since you had always felt a certain weakness for the warm climate, the sticky breeze, and the sound of the waves that were on the beach.
You had only had the chance to go to a mall to buy a new outfit, because yours had been completely ruined, while Morgan took advantage of the wait to buy an ice cream popsicle. It hadn't been a dream ride, but it was something at least.
“I feel like I could sleep for 90 hours straight,” you sighed, closing your eyes and falling into Spencer's side as usual. You two were the youngest, he was younger than you of course, so it was easier to connect with him than the other members of the team. You seemed to have similar interests and he was strangely comfortable with you.
“You would actually need to wake up periodically to expel fluids or you would risk bursting your bladder or even your bowels, because even though your digestive system shuts down when you sleep it only does so for a certain number of hours. Maybe you could sleep for 14 or 17 hours, which is what a baby sleeps, but 90 seems excessive to me even if you do not consume drinks or food before doing so”
"It's an expression, Reid" you laughed, but without the intention of making him feel bad for having answered you that way. Sometimes it was necessary to explain to him that you weren't being serious, as obvious as this seemed.
"You can sleep through the whole trip" he argued and although you still had your eyes closed you assumed that he had shrugged "I'll wake you up if you start snoring"
"I don't snore!" you defended yourself, playfully smacking him on the arm and hearing him laugh. Somehow watching him led you to remember a chain of events ending in the package you had carefully stowed in your bag and you almost jumped out of your seat the next second: "Wait, I just remembered something" you reported and went to the baggage area to rummage through your suitcase, taking just a few minutes to be back in your seat “I bought you this”
"Me?" he asked in disbelief. The others were on their own business enough to notice your conversation, making the moment a bit more private.
“I looked at it and just thought of you. Although I don't know if you're going to like it” you said shyly, handing him something wrapped in a paper bag with a store sticker on it. You had found the gift when you went shopping for your clean outfit and a part of you had been anxious all day to be able to give it to him to watch his reaction.
Reid looked at it curiously and handled it carefully, as if he were afraid it would fall apart in his fingers, until he managed to open it and took a piece of cloth from it.
"A scarf?"
“I saw you in one the other day and I thought you might like them. You know, you always wear your vests under your coats and your ties and you're always overdressed, but in a cute way” you laughed, while you pointed your hands at your body pretending to touch the pieces of his outfit "But it's okay if you don't want to wear it"
"No! I mean yes. I want to use it” he reassured you. Spencer held it out to look at it more carefully: it was purple, a stripe in the middle of patterned colored rhombuses intertwined with some embroidery of branches with leaves in black. "Did you know that the color purple is related to royalty because of how difficult it was to obtain the pigment before the Christian era? It is obvious that artificial dyes didn’t exist at that time, so everything they dyed the fabrics with had to be obtained from nature and that particular tone was quite difficult to obtain because it came from Bolinus brandaris, an extremely rare species of sea snail. To obtain 1 gram of this substance it is necessary to have 10,000 snails. And that gram was barely enough to dye a small piece. Its value and the difficulty in mass-producing it is due to the fact that the substance obtained had to be left to dry in the sun for a very precise time to be used later. Half a kilo of wool dyed in that color cost what would now be equivalent to around 300,000 euros,” he said, still holding the scarf as he rambled on. "It is also related to liturgical attire, it symbolizes power, wisdom, and is the perfect combination between the energy of red and the calm of blue”
“Oh yeah, I… I knew all that before I bought it, I didn't choose it just because I think purple brings out your eyes” you blatantly lied, making your friend laugh tenderly.
“What I meant to say is that I like it” he added, a little embarrassed by the smile and attention with which you had been observing him. You always did that when he wandered off, leaving him helpless and not knowing how to react.
"You said it has to do with wisdom, right?" you exclaimed and he nodded gently "Do you think there's some weird psychological reason why my brain knew that and linked it to you or was it just a coincidence?"
"Well, it's hard to explain..." he began to say, turning a little in his seat to be closer to you and begin a long explanation about the connections that our brain creates with things and people.
You were completely exhausted but you didn't have the heart to stop him from saying anything he had to say and you listened intently as much as your body would allow, until eventually you were lulled to sleep by the sound of Spencer's soft voice. When he stopped hearing your hums he realized that you had already fallen asleep and he moved your body carefully until you were completely reclining on the chair, so that when you woke up the physical pain of sleeping on the plane would be less. He, for his part, stayed in the seat next to you sheltered your rest, and at some point ended up asleep too.
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The day after she came back from Miami, Spencer was already wearing the scarf you gave him. He had matched it with a brown coat, a vest in a darker shade of purple than the scarf, and a white shirt that together made him look perfect. Also, his well-brushed straight hair fell to the side and his tanned skin looked particularly clean.
You didn’t need to tell him anything because the smile you gave him when you looked him up and down was reason enough for him to be flattered and also proud to receive your approval. All day you watched him, a bit for the garment and a bit for the very pleasure of admiring him, and you noticed that he frequently checked that everything about him looked good, as if he was trying to impress you. Every time he spoke he avoided looking at you, only at you, but you couldn't take your eyes off him.
The day after that he used it too and the next day and the next, to the point where it was strange to see him go anywhere without it, as if it had become a part of him. After a week, while they waited in the boardroom, Elle finally had the courage to face the situation and ask Spencer why the particular choice for something for everyday use.
"It's that his girlfriend gave it to him" answered Morgan, before the brunette could say anything.
"What? No! Y/N is not my girlfriend” he said, completely embarrassed and making sure with his eyes that you weren't around to hear that.
"Oh, now I understand" JJ joined the conversation.
"You understand what?"
“You are always taking care that it doesn’t get dirty or stained”
"Yes, I don't like my clothes to get ruined"
"But more so if it's something his girlfriend gave him" insisted Morgan and in a fit that no one expected Spencer took a ball of paper and threw it at his face. That just got a collective laugh.
"I just like it. That's all”
"We all know you like her, Reid," added Hotch, who had kept quiet thus far and didn't even look up from the files. He flushed red to the ears as the rest of the team shared another laugh, and just seconds later you and Gideon walked through the door.
"Good morning"
"Good morning" answered the others, like school children before the arrival of a teacher. There was one seat left next to Morgan that Gideon took and that forced you into the only remaining chair between Elle and Spencer.
“Did I miss something interesting?” you murmured, leaning into him and smiling close to his face.
"No" he replied kindly, feeling your gaze drop from his eyes.
"Your scarf," you said, reaching out your hands to move it a little around his neck "It was out of place"
Everyone else, except for Gideon, shared knowing glances and stifled giggles as they watched the nervous way he thanked you. It didn't help too much that for the entire meeting you were completely distracted looking at your partner next to you, making the whole team wonder when the two of you were finally going to end up kissing.
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vivwritesfics · 3 months
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Hooked On A Feeling
Chapter Nine - Flying
Daniel is a Formula One driver, but, more importantly, he was a single dad to a wonderful little girl. He wants her to be a normal little girl, to have a normal social life, so he sends her to daycare. That was where she met Milo, her future best friend.
Milo's mother was incredibly stressed. She worked so hard to provide a good life for her son. But then he makes a new friend, a friend who has a hot dad (ofc they fall in love)
1.3K
Single Dad!Daniel x Single Mum!Reader
Series Masterlist
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Y/N and Milo arrived at Daniel's house in the early hours of the morning. She had a small suitcase, lightly packed with her clothes, and an even smaller one for Milo.
Milo wore the AlphaTauri hat as they waited outside of the house. He was jumping on the spot, one hand held in his mothers and the other holding his small suitcase. "Momma, I can't wait!" He cheered and Y/N squeezed his hands.
It was a hard decision. Y/N hadn't agreed to this while completely sober. But Y/N spoke to her boss about taking a few vacation days and left everything for Daniel to organise (per his request).
It was the Miami Grand Prix. Daniel had spoken to somebody to get Y/N a pass and somewhere for her and Milo to sleep. She hadn't told anybody that they were coming with him; it was going to be a surprise.
Dressed comfortably for travelling, Daniel pulled open the door. This time he wasn't wearing a cap, and Y/N could see his curls. His lovely curls. "Hi Milo," he said and held out his fist.
Milo bumped his fist against his as he walked past him, into the house. "Olivia's in her bedroom!" Daniel called after him. Milo dropped his hold of his bag and started up the stairs, heading towards Olivia's bedroom.
Y/N followed Milo inside. "Hey," she said and greeted Daniel with a hug. "Are we heading off soon?"
"Just having a coffee and then yeah," he said and pushed the door shut behind her.
She left her suitcase by the door (dragging Milo's back over to hers) and followed Daniel into the kitchen. He used his coffee machine to make Y/N a drink and leaned against the island as they drank. "Thank you so much for this," she said as she held the mug in both hands. "Milo is so excited that he might literally explode."
Daniel smiled. That was why he was doing this, because Milo would love it. Sure, it was going to be so freaking cool to have Y/N there, but that would have been selfish of him.
They made idle conversation as they drank their coffees. As soon as they were finished, Y/N and Daniel loaded their bags into the car. They went upstairs to grab the kids, Daniel helping Olivia finish with packing her bags as Y/N adjusted Milo's cap on his head and picked him up.
Before they knew it they were on the road, Daniel singing along to his music as Y/N bounced her leg nervously. In the back of the car, Milo and Olivia watched a movie on an iPad.
Y/N knew Daniel was rich. She knew he was famous, too, had seen the crowds at the race that she'd watched on the television. But she'd never expected him to be private jet rich and famous.
It wasn't his private jet, instead one he rented from a company. But he didn't fail to inform her that his friend Max had his own.
It was Milo's first time flying, and he was terrified. Olivia had been telling him all about take off, and that was enough to have him crawling into his mothers lap the moment they were sat on the plane.
"Oh Munchkin," she whispered as she smoothed down his hair. She would have gone to get his favourite teddy bear for him, to try and comfort him, but the bear was stuff down into the deep recesses of her bag, inaccessible for the time being. "It's okay. Momma's got you."
Olivia had been flying for her entire life. She was used to it; it no longer phased her. For this flight, she'd been looking forward to sitting beside her best friend, watching movies with him as they took off across the world. But she couldn't do that for the time being, so she sat in her fathers lap, holding onto Snuffles, her bunny teddy.
As they got onto the runway, and Milo was in near hysterics, Daniel whispered something in Olivia's ear. "But daddy," she mumbled and Daniel held his finger to his lip. Olivia let out a little huff and adjusted how she was sitting to be facing Milo.
She leaned over and tapped on his shoulder. Milo didn't pull his face away from his mothers shoulder, but he turned to face her, ears staining his cheeks. "Here," Olivia said, handing Snuffles to him.
Hesitantly, Milo reached for Snuffles. He took him from Olivia and pulled him into his chest. "What do we say, Milo?" Y/N asked gently.
"Thank you," Milo whispered, squeezing Snuffles even tighter.
They took off and Milo continued to cry, but he kept squeezing Snuffles. Before he knew it they were in the air, flying smoothly. Milo pulled away from his mother and Olivia hopped out of her fathers lap. They found their own seats and Daniel brought over Olivia's iPad for the two of them to watch a movie.
"I can't believe Milo's never flown before," Daniel said to Y/N as they sipped their drinks.
Y/N looked past him, her guilty face turned towards the window of the sleek private plane. "Yeah? Well, we've never been able to afford it before. But that was really kind of Olivia to give up her teddy."
Daniel smiled at that. His little girl really was special. "Now, you've got this entire journal to tell me everything about Formula One," she said as she leaned back in her seat.
It was a challenge, one Daniel happily took on. He didn't explain everything, of course - there wasn't enough time for that. He told her as much as she could, and only as much as she needed to know.
"Make sure you're rooting for the number three car, because that's me," he said.
She knew that one, knew she was supposed to be rooting for Daniels car.
"It's a street circuit," he explained. "Which means it uses public roads. But this one is a little different. It is a street circuit, but it uses roads from around the stadium in Miami. I'll take you and Milo to a real street circuit one day," he said, but that last part was rather quiet.
"Okay so I know about the track, I know what the teams are, kind of, and I know who to root for. Who are Milo and I not supposed to root for?" She asked, stretching her legs out in front of her.
"Everybody else," Daniel answered, but he had an inflection to his voice, signalling it was a joke.
Y/N just laughed along with him. He launched into telling her all about the Grand Prix that the USA hosted, from the Miami Grand Prix, to the Vegas Grand Prix and the Circuit of the Americas. "That's my favourite of them all," he said. "I have a house out there, but I haven't been in a while," he explained. "It's hard when Olivia's mother refuses to let me have more than a week with her."
"Hang on," Y/N began. "How many houses do you have?"
Daniel launched into another explanation. And then he promised to take her to his place in Monaco at some point.
"That would be lovely," she said as she sipped her drink.
She looked past him again, looking towards the window. Around them was clouds, but they were beautiful. Y/N couldn't stop herself from getting out of her chair and walking over to the window, getting onto her knees to look out of it.
"Here," Daniel said as he scooted over in his seat, leaving a space for her.
Y/N gladly took the seat. She was half on the seat and half on his lap, but neither of them seemed to mind. Daniel had his arm wrapped around her, but only because that was the most comfortable way for him to sit.
"Thank you for this," she muttered once again as she leaned back, resting against his shoulder.
Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @cassie0sstuff @spideybv28 @andydrysdalerogers @aundercover @lou-bean28 @landossainz @purplephantomwolf @ggaslyp1 @layazul @phantomxoxo @minkyungseokie @gills-lounge @hollie911 @annispamz @lillians-world-is-f1 @cixrosie @notyouraveragemochii @charli123456789 @amalialeclerc @teamnovalak @tallrock35 @teenwolf01 @chiliwhore @darleneslane @sava207 @thatsusbitch @formulaal @leptitlu @angiesw0rld @yunakynn @landosgirlxoxo @msolbesg @cherry-piee @catmouseggy @bathedinheat @chanshintien @ilove-tswizzle @woozarts @evie-119 @trouble-sistar @mysticalnightenthusiast @lewisvinga @spilled-coffee-cup @starkeyellow @fxrmuladaydreams @viennakarma @radiator101 @lightdragonrayne @angelxxrose @millinorrizz @xemiefx @ellies-world61 @the-depressed-fellow
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 1 year
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Letterman Jacket
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Javier Peña x F!Reader oneshot
{ Main Masterlist }
Rating: E (18+ only)
Summary: Tensions come to a head between you and Javier on the private jet back to Bogotá after a long, frustrating day. Or rather - after six long, frustrating years of bad blood.
Word count: 3.5k
Warnings: My first PW(much)P, enemies to lovers, arguing, swearing, drinking, dirty talk, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, thigh riding, no use of Y/N, soft!Javier
Notes: After obsessing over this damn jacket forever, I finally pulled the trigger. This is my first ever Javier, and I know he’s not perfect, but my 2023 resolution is to not overthink things, and I had a blast writing this in a couple of days since the idea came to me. I’m so nervous posting this, but excited to have finally made a start with Javier. Please be gentle with me ❤️
P.S. I’m going on my honeymoon the next 2 weeks. I’m sure I’ll be lurking around, and I also have new content all queued up for @fuckyeahpedropascal! See you!
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I’m still finding Javier’s voice, but my understanding and interpretation of this man so far is definitely shaped by @the-ginger-hedge-witch character analyses and The Crush (which I’m still catching up on). Thank you Professor Ren for sharing your insight into our favourite DEA agent 🥰
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It’s cold.
Why is it cold in fucking Miami?
If only you’d checked the weather report beforehand - oh wait, that’s right. You weren’t exactly given much notice, even less detail, when the phone call came this morning. Not that 4am should count as "morning" in your books.
We found him.
Who?
Jurado. Take the first flight out to Curacao this morning, it’s in two hours. We’re taking him in and flying straight to Miami. Get the papers ready, he’ll be testifying tomorrow.
What the actual fuck, Peña -
You can’t even remember what you stuffed into your weekender bag after he hung up without another word. Mostly legal papers and pens and a change of clothes - all of which are now redundant. The bag hangs heavy in your grip, the taste of failure bitter in your mouth.
Something warm descends onto your shoulders, and you almost jump out of your skin, eyes wide as they snap up. Javier isn’t looking at you though, his unseeing gaze trained on the tips of his brown leather boots, hands in the pockets of his dark blue jeans. He trudges across the tarmac, the bravado that is usually so loud in his walk conspicuously absent.
Reaching up, you pull his jacket tighter with your free hand, the stretch of the fabric distorting the bold letters DEA emblazoned on the left lapel. He doesn’t wear it often - he’s in suits mostly these days, which you can tell pisses him off to no end. He almost never does his tie up properly, a subtle middle finger to the establishment, perhaps.
Your lips twitch despite yourself. Peña’s always been happier going on literal wild goose chases.
The jacket easily engulfs you, blocking out the unwelcome evening chill. You breathe in the faint but unmistakable scent of cigarettes and you can feel the weight of a full box swing against your side. He keeps insisting he’s trying to quit, but obviously not very hard.
Somehow, it doesn’t feel any warmer in the plane cabin, and you put your arms through the sleeves of the jacket properly before sinking heavily into one of the plush leather seats with a sigh, relieved to get off your sore feet.
You don’t notice the small plane taking off with just the two of you, sitting silently opposite each other until the flight path levels, at which point Javier promptly heads to the small bar at the end of the cabin and comes back with two generous glasses of whiskey.
Sipping in silence, you let your gaze settle on him, no subtlety left in the tank after your shitty day at twenty hours and counting. Javier, in turn, stares listlessly out of the window, uninterested in your scrutiny. Strands of mussed hair fall over his tired eyes, the dark circles underneath shadowing his entire countenance.
His pink shirt, which was drenched in sweat when he’d finally, finally caught up to Jurado in that square in Curacao, has long dried in the cool Miami air. And of course it’s tight and the neckline unbuttoned halfway down his chest, the poor fabric stretched to an inch of its life by his obnoxiously wide shoulders. It’s tucked into even tighter jeans that seem to struggle to contain all of him.
Honestly, it’s a damn miracle he could do any running at all in this ensemble.
You stare at the little fold-up table between the two of you. It had been covered in papers en route to Miami just hours ago, the Cali moneyman sitting exactly where you are now. Jurado agreed to the lesser charges of money laundering and racketeering in exchange for testifying for the DEA. You had him. He was in that interview room. The lawyers from the Miami county court were ready to take over.
But somehow, that smarmy, rotund excuse of a cartel lawyer got there first.
A heavy sigh catches your ear over the whir of the plane engines, and you watch as Javier drags one heavy hand over his face, the tips of his thick fingers resting above his pursed lips, before he shakes his head.
The words are out of your mouth before your head catches up. ‘Stop it.’
Dark eyes flicker your way, brows drawing into a frown. ‘What?’
Your empty glass clunks loudly when it hits the table. ‘Stop beating yourself up. We both know this is out of our hands. Quit the self-martyrdom bullshit.’
The grin comes quickly and sarcastically. You hate it. He’s never been big on smiles, but you’ve seen how his face can light up with a laugh over a drink, or at a good joke. From a distance, of course, and never in your direction. You’ve only ever had scowls and glares thrown your way.
You’re not alone though - these days, that’s all anyone ever gets from him.
Leaning back in his chair, one big palm cradling the bottom of the crystal tumbler that looks much smaller than it should, and the other resting on his thigh, Javier huffs a sardonic laugh. ‘Is that what you think of me?’
‘I don’t think it. I know it.’
‘You don’t know me,’ he answers coolly.
You roll your eyes. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Peña. You’re not some pouty, brooding mystery to me. I’ve been cleaning up after your mess for six fucking years.’ Shaking your head, you can’t help adding, ‘Not that you’ve ever appreciated any of it.’
He gives you a derisive snort. ‘I wasn’t aware that I should be thanking you for getting in my way at every turn.’
‘Getting in your way?’ you chuckle mirthlessly. ‘I’ve been trying to keep you out of jail, asshole.’
‘Maybe you shouldn’t be.’
‘Is this what all this is about? Some survivor’s guilt bullshit?’ Unperturbed by his silence, you press on. ‘Well guess what, I don’t work for you. Having the attaché in jail isn’t really a good look for our employer, so bad news, you’re a free man as long as I’m legal counsel for the DEA.’
‘It would make my life a lot fucking easier if you weren’t.’
The words are so quiet, so matter-of-fact, they have no right to hit you as hard as they do. You’re horrified to feel the sting of tears on the seam of your eyelashes, and your lips part wordlessly before you regain your voice. ‘Fuck you, Peña.’
He winces and sits up, setting his glass next to yours on the table. ‘Shit. That came out wrong -’
Nails dig into your palms as hurt threatens to claw its out of the carefully locked compartment where you keep it. ‘No, I think it came out exactly as you meant it. You’ve hated me since day one.’
‘I don’t hate you -’
You glare at him. ‘You think I don’t know what people say behind my back over drinks at the embassy bar, when I’m stuck in the office dealing with whatever legal bullshit you’ve dug yourself into? I bet you like a good laugh at my expense.’
Shifting forward in his seat, Javier reaches out and grabs your left wrist. ‘Stop it. I don’t. You know I wouldn’t.’
You try to pull back but he doesn’t budge, easily holding you in place. You bite out, ‘I’ll quit if that’s what you want. Might as well make both of our lives easier with one resignation letter.’
Javier’s hold on you tightens, and he bares his teeth in frustration. ‘That’s not what I want.’
‘That’s exactly what you said you wanted just now. Why don’t you make up your fucking mind, Peña?’ you snap back.
‘I can’t,’ he snarls, his other hand finding your free wrist, almost jolting you out of your seat. He’s so close you can smell the whiskey on his breath. ‘I’ve never been able to with you.’
You go as still as the air around you, the mixed signals scrambling the wires in your already exhausted head. You narrow your eyes and him and hiss, ‘What?’
Javier heaves a sigh, breathing out the words through gritted teeth and eyes screwed shut. ‘You drive me up a fucking wall, woman.’
Anger surges in you, and you manage to yank both of your wrists free. Pushing him away, you spit at him with all the venom you can muster. ‘Fuck you, too!’
He growls, raking one hand through his hair before slamming it onto the fold-up table, making the glasses clink when they knock together from the force. ‘Goddamnit, won’t you just hear me? I can’t decide if I want you to shut the fuck up or if I just - want you.’
You watch his broad chest rise and fall in quick succession as he slumps in his chair, as if the last two words that are still ringing in your ears knocked the wind out of him.
Want you.
His eyes follow from under thick lashes when you reach out for the glasses, relocating them to the carpeted floor on the other side of your chair, before finding the lever underneath the table and folding it down. And you don’t miss the way his stare falls to your legs as you cross them deliberately, skirt hitching higher up, his Adam’s apple bobbing thickly in the column of his neck.
You tilt your head to one side in a challenge. ‘Well? What are you going to do about it, then?’
He’s out of his chair and on you in a beat, his arms caging you in as you pull him close by the collar of his shirt. You murmur against his lips, ‘You’re a fucking asshole, Peña.’
‘I know. Let me make it up to you -’ The words barely make it out of his mouth before he kisses you, lips warm and wet and pressing into yours insistently.
You let out a surprised yelp when Javier tugs you onto your feet, hot hands pushing his jacket off your shoulders but leaving it hanging from the crook of your arms. Goosebumps bloom where his fingers brush your sternum as he unbuttons your sleeveless shirt underneath, tugging it free from where it’s neatly tucked into your skirt.
You retort, ‘You’re going to make up for six years of bad blood on a three-hour flight?’
‘Well, what are you doing tomorrow?’ he asks almost conversationally, and with a casual flick, he undoes the front clasp of your bra. He breathes a raspy fuck as he palms your tits reverently, the contact making you shudder.
‘Actually, I was going to have a sit down with you. A little birdy told me some outrageous story about the DEA attaché endorsing wiretapping,’ you reply teasingly, wrestling with the small buttons on his shirt.
Javier chuckles, clever fingers sliding down your back and undoing the zipper on your pencil skirt, which pools about your now bare feet after kicking off your sensible low heels. ‘Fucking Stoddard. I knew he'd tattle on me.’
‘You better come prepared with a good defence, Peña,’ you quip, letting him spin you around and ease you into his seat, the leather still warm under your bare thighs. His pink shirt hangs open as he looms over you, so broad that he’s the only thing you see.
He hums and kisses down the side of your neck, stopping to suck on your pulse point. ‘How about a bit of incentive to go easy on me instead, hmm?’
You arch an eyebrow while he gets on one knee, then the other, but there’s no denying the wild rabbiting of your pulse despite your banter. ‘Bribery? Just one of the dirty tricks up your sleeves, Agent Peña?’
He peels your panties down the length of your thighs unhurriedly, smirking at the way you bite into your bottom lip as the scrap of fabric makes its descent. He hooks your right leg on his shoulder, then the left one, opening you up to his dark gaze as he smirks, ‘You ain’t seen nothing yet, cariño.’
It’s been too long. Too fucking long since you’ve been with anyone. Your hips arch clean off the leather seat at the first broad stroke of his tongue, confidently charting its way all the way up your folds. His weathered palms hold your thighs firmly apart as you writhe in his grip because it’s too much.
‘Javier,’ you breathe, meeting his almost cocky gaze as he stares up at you. He suckles wetly at your clit, lips puckering, and you buck hard into his mouth.
Granting you a brief reprieve, he moves off you with a wet smack of his lips and teases, ‘Am I making a good case for myself?’
‘Clearly not good enough if I’m still speaking in complete sentences,’ you somehow manage to counter.
He grins at you - a real one that lifts both corners of his mouth and chases away the shadows of his demons, and it has absolutely no business making your heart lurch the way that it does. ‘Touché, cariño.’
There’s no polite way of putting this. Javier eats you, meticulous and sloppy in turn, until your slick and his spit trail down the inside of your legs, and you feel the leather growing slippery underneath your bare ass. You can hear yourself over the roar of the plane engines, and you babble incoherently when he pushes his tongue into your pussy. ‘Javier, Javi -’
‘Gonna cum for me, cariño?’ He slurs as he sinks one, and then two fingers into you, biting out a filthy groan at how wet you are.
You nod desperately, finding purchase on his broad shoulders. ‘I’m so close, please -’
Pumping his fingers inside you until you squelch around them, he ducks down and laves your clit in earnest, pushing you until there’s nothing left - no air, no sound, no time and space - all the oxygen is sucked out of your lungs and your ears pop, and you cum so fucking hard with your hands tangled in his curls and his name on your lips.
‘Fuck, you’re so beautiful,’ he murmurs almost absent-mindedly, chasing your skin when you try to push him away. His moustache scrapes your thighs and sends a shudder running through you as you catch your breath. ‘I’m an idiot for waiting this long.’
Gently setting your legs down - not that you can feel them anyway - Javier turns his face to his right shoulder, and you watch in rapture as he smears the slick coating his mouth and chin onto his pink shirt, the wet spot staining the fabric.
Your lip curls in giddy amusement as you think to yourself - you look good on him.
Then he leans up to kiss you, and your head spins at the taste of yourself on his tongue and your scent on his moustache.
Pushing back the loose locks that now curl against his forehead, you sass, ‘That’s one trick. Are you going to show me another, Agent Peña?’
Without warning, his hands slide under your bare buttocks and he lifts you clean off the seat. You laugh and close your grip around his upper arms, feeling his muscles flex under your palms. You know without looking how his biceps must be straining against the short sleeves of his shirt.
He falls heavily into the chair with you straddling him, and you protest, ‘Stop, Javi, I’m going to make a mess of your jeans.’
‘I want you to make a mess,’ he declares in his rich baritone. ‘Want your pussy to soak my jeans, cariño.’
Desire flashes hot and fast up and down your spine. ‘But Javi, I just came -’ you break off as he grasps your hips and settles you onto his right thigh.
‘You can cum again,’ he shrugs with a cocksure definitiveness, coaxing a moan from you when he shifts and your folds drag along the denim. ‘Ride me, cariño.’
‘But what about you?’ You trace one palm down his bare chest and soft stomach to rest on the prominent bulge straining against the front of his tight jeans. He chokes when you give his erection a bold squeeze through the denim, which has you grinning smugly.
Covering your hand with his, he brings it up to kiss it softly. ‘Another time, it’s been a long day. Now - can I get back to making it up to you?’
Winding your arms around his neck, you rock against his thigh, feeling the wet imprint of the slick you leave behind on the coarse fabric as you move back and forth. His palms squeeze the swell of your ass reassuringly but loose enough so that you can find your own rhythm.
Javier patiently mouths his way down your neck and further, sucking hard on one nipple and then the other, making you throw your head back in a gasp.
‘You look so good wearing my jacket with your gorgeous tits out,’ he praises you, letting go of your hips to push your breasts together and laps at the soft flesh with his tongue.
‘Javier,’ you whine, tipping forward to bury your face in the long line of his neck.
The same neck you’ve sometimes wanted to wring in the heat of the moment, but also caught yourself staring at when he cradles the office phone in the crook of his shoulder. You can taste the salt on his skin - sweat and sea breeze and sunshine - and when the breath catches in his throat, your hips stutter, your orgasm so close to the surface.
As if sensing you need a bit of help, he whispers into your ear. ‘I can feel you so wet for me through my jeans, cariño. You’re doing so good for me.’
Feeling his nails dig into you as he guides you over his thigh, you whimper needily, ‘I’m so close.’
‘I know you are. You can do it - cum on my thigh.’
‘Oh fuck,’ you choke, pressing your forehead into his as you begin to shake, and he brushes his nose soothingly against yours. The impending vertigo sends you crashing into him, hands trembling on his shoulders, torn between clinging on and letting go. ‘Javi - I’m cumming, oh my god -’
And then he’s lunging towards you in a deep kiss, tongues tangling as you break again, a moan in his windpipe when he feels your pussy leak into his jeans as it clenches and clenches around nothing. Needing air, you pull back to slump bonelessly against him, panting hard into his neck, his palms drawing circles over your back.
You only realise you’ve drifted off when a sudden drop in altitude wakes you, and the PA system cackles to life with the captain’s ten-minute warning to landing. From the corner of your eye, you catch Javier watching you with a lopsided smile.
You duck your head sheepishly. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.’
‘Well, you did have a 4am wakeup call,’ he quips.
Sitting back on your haunches, you do up your bra and then the buttons on your now very crumpled shirt. Easing off him on wobbly legs, you pick up your panties and skirt from the floor and dress yourself quickly, smoothing out the wrinkles as best as you can. You smile at Javier, watching him he button up his pink shirt, stopping at the fourth one as always.
Stepping in between his spread legs, hands on his upper thighs, you press a soft kiss to his lips. You smile and drag a finger over the wet spot you left on his jeans. ‘That was fun.’
The corners of his eyes crinkle and he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. ‘That might be an understatement of criminal proportions.’
You make to take off his jacket, but Javier shakes his head, tugging on the collar so it sits squarely on your shoulders. ‘Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.’
You can’t tell if it’s actually warmer when you step off the plane or if it’s the afterglow, but you keep the jacket on. Your respective cars are waiting on the airstrip next to each other, and Javier loads your weekender bag into the backseat before opening the door on the driver’s side, shutting it after you climb in.
You palm the steering wheel self-consciously as you stare at each other in a slightly awkward lull, before clearing your throat. ‘So, 9am sharp tomorrow at the 3rd floor conference room, Agent Peña?’
Javier smirks, but his eyes are warm as he shifts on his feet, leaning one elbow on the open window and cocks his head to one side. ‘Depends. Will you be wearing my letterman jacket?’
A bark of laughter escapes you. ‘Your letterman jacket? Should I pick up matching friendship bracelets for us before our meeting?’
With a lighthearted shake of his head, Javier half-turns to leave before stopping abruptly. Tapping two fingers on the window frame, he hesitates briefly, before looking up at you with earnest eyes, his voice quiet and almost solemn in its sincerity. ‘Thank you.’
Watching him go, your chest blooms with warmth at the eight letters and two little words you’ve waited six years to hear.
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At twenty-seven minutes to nine the next morning, you’re flinging open the front door of your apartment, car keys jingling and thermos balanced precariously in one hand, when a flash of white on navy catches your attention.
For a long moment, you stand off dramatically with the jacket draped across the back of a kitchen chair, the letters DEA staring back at you - before you reach for it and shrug it on with a silly grin.
What can you say? You’ve always had a thing for letterman jackets.
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More notes: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments and reblogs are always encouraged and so appreciated ❤️
Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics as always 💕
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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months
Text
The Aftermath || LN4 {13}
Pairing: Lando Norris x widow!reader Summary: Lando is still struggling with his anxiety and it seems to only grows with time as he tried to balance work and parenting. Warnings: 18+ only, hurt/comfort, mentions of dad!PND WC: 3.4K
F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten || Eleven || Twelve || Thirteen || Epilogue
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“I thought this was supposed to get easier,” Lando grumbled as you sat in bed, your laptop screen filled with his image. The bright late afternoon sun was streaming through the window in your room but it was night where Lando was in Miami. “I feel like I’m letting everyone down. I can’t concentrate on the race because I’m thinking about you two, and I can’t be at home because of the race…I hate this.”
 “I don’t know if it's easier, but I guess it will become a new normal in time. We’ll be with you at the next three races, just have to make it through this one.”
“I need this two week break to hurry up and arrive. I just need to be able to go to put Ren to bed and tuck her in,” startled cries sounded from the cot across the room as Renleigh woke from her nap, “and I need to be there to pick her up when she cries. I think I’m going out of my mind.”
The catch in his voice broke your heart and you grabbed your phone off the bedside so you could message Max. “You don’t know how much I wish I could take away the hurt you’re feeling, Lan. I don’t want you to be alone so Max is getting on the first flight he can. And before you argue, he is happy to do it. We are both worried about you, babe.”
“No offence, love, but I don’t need Max, I need my family.” He dropped his chin onto his hand with a sigh. 
“I’m just a phone call away, day or night. But if you want snuggles, Max will have to do for a few more nights.” 
You left the laptop for a moment so you could reach into the cot and bring Ren over to see her daddy, waving her little hand to the camera. A smile finally graced his lips as he waved back and leaned closer to the screen to kiss his camera. 
Placing her on the bed, you both watched her try to crawl towards Lando. “That’s it, my girl,” he praised as she rocked forward before face planting into the soft blankets. “Getting there, you’ll be racing around in no time.”
“Speaking of racing, you should be getting ready for bed,” you reminded him gently. “Max will be there in the morning to keep you company and you know you can talk to him about anything.”
“You make it sound like I need counselling,” he joked but it fell flat when you shrugged. “I’m fine.”
“Okay, it’s just…your job is already so stressful, then the addition of a baby…it’s a big change and it’s alright to admit that. Dads can get PND too.” 
“Really?” His brows pinched together as he fell silent. 
“Even if you are fine, I think talking to someone else might still help. Remember when you got me to go to counselling? You said it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of and it isn’t.”
He didn’t look convinced as he muttered, “yeah, maybe.”
“Just think about it,” you suggested as he started to yawn. “And get some rest, babe. I love you.”
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You felt like you had come out of hibernation as you sat beside Lando, your fingers entwined as he drove to Imola. Since giving birth you had hardly travelled anywhere, opting to keep Renleigh’s arrival private, so everyone close enough to know about her came to your house to visit her. That would all change on Sunday and to say you were nervous was the mother of all understatements.
Your stomach was tied up in knots just thinking about trying to navigate the busy paddock with your precious baby. Lando had already organised plenty of security to escort you everywhere but your overthinking and paranoia whispered that there were still so many things that could go wrong. It lingered even when you tried to focus on the here and now.
The radio played quietly in the background but it was Ren that you listened to, her babbling in response to Lando’s chattering keeping you both entertained and distracted. You turned in the seat to see her smile in the small mirror and her papaya socks kicking in the air.
“Someone is excited to make her debut,” Lando said with a chuckle. He gripped the wheel with one hand and the other came to rest on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. There had hardly been a moment where he wasn’t holding some part of you since his return, needing the comfort of your touch to ground himself and suppress his growing anxiety. 
This was the most relaxed he had been in months and you smiled back at him, grateful that your husband was returning to his old self. 
“Why are you smiling like that?” he asked with a nervous laugh between glances as he drove.
“Do you ever just stop and think ‘I have never been happier than I am at this moment’?” you asked as you traced the beauty spots that dotted his arm like a constellation of stars that would always lead you home. “It’s almost painful how happy I am right now, like my heart is going to burst right out of my chest.”
“Please don’t,” he chuckled, reaching up to stroke your cheek before concentrating back on the road. “That was me this morning, well, every morning I wake up beside you. Seeing the sunlight catch your hair, the peace on your face when you bury it in my neck and snore.”
Ren’s arms startled into the air at the sudden laugh you barked and Lando’s grin grew at the sound of pure, unfiltered joy. “That was almost romantic! You were so close to a blowjob, until you lied.”
“You do snore, and it’s cute!” he stated seriously before casting you a sly smile. “So about that blowjob…”
You leaned over the console and kissed the sharp line of his jaw, tracing the curve to his ear. “Tell me I snore one more time.” He clamped his lips closed and you smirked as you sat back in the seat. “Smart man.”
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Lando put the car in park and turned the engine off but made no move to open the door as he sat quietly with his hands still on the wheel. His qualifying had gone great the day before and he was starting the race in P3 but the race was far from his mind as he looked at the high fence ahead, knowing the circuit was just on the other side.
“What if we are doing the wrong thing?”
“Lan, we can’t keep her bubble wrapped for the rest of her life. And we are going to make mistakes, that’s just a fact, but there’s only one way to find out.” You looked out the window and saw a group of men wearing McLaren shirts that showed off their large muscles. “Your papaya army has arrived, and they bought the big guns too.”
Lando snorted and relaxed a little, though the wariness never left his eyes as he unbuckled his seatbelt and stole a kiss. “Thank you.”
Lando’s fingers tightened around yours and he placed his other hand protectively over Renleigh’s back. He had debated putting her into the stroller that remained folded up in the car boot but the need to keep her close made him strap the front pack to his chest. Every few steps his head would dip down and he would place a tender kiss to the top of her head, whispering soothing words that were more for himself than her.
“What’s the weather forecast?” you asked as you tipped your head back to the skies and wondered if you had imagined the kiss of raindrop on your skin. 
“Chance of rain, but it should only be light.” He took a look around himself and narrowed his eyes at the grey clouds on the horizon before picking up the pace a little. His quick walk stalled when he reached the paddock gates and patted his pockets for his pass to scan and swore under his breath. 
“Looking for this?” you teased as you pulled his pass out of your pocket along with yours. 
“Have I told you how much I missed having you here?” he said as he took his pass and scanned it, his photo popping up on the little screen before he stepped through the barrier. 
“You may have mentioned it once or twice. Is Maria here already?”
Lando nodded, mentioning he had messaged her earlier and she had already arrived at the track with Zak. 
“Maybe grand-mere can look after you for a little while,” you whispered as you tickled Ren’s feet through her socks. “Then mummy and daddy can sneak off to his room for a few minutes.”
 “Minutes?” Lando scoffed at the insult and you grinned knowing his competitive side was coming out despite the fact the man’s stamina was far longer.
“If you want to prove me wrong…”
“I’ve done that multiple times a day, for the last two weeks, love,” he smirked as he whispered in your ear as you walked along. “But if your memory is that bad, I’m sure I can remind you.”
Your reply was lost as a huge swell of people came into view through the gaps in the wall of muscle ahead, the chaotic screams suddenly piercing the air as Lando was spotted by the crowd. Your mouth was still parted in shock but the sound of a shaky breath didn’t come from your lips. 
“Can we get to the garage, please?” you asked the head of security and he nodded, just as eager to make it through the mass of people. 
As effortless as Lando made it seem, he was never truly comfortable in large crowds and the birth of his daughter had only increased his social anxiety. You could feel it now as his palm heated against yours, his skin clammy and grip tightening to an almost painful hold. He was using you to anchor himself and fight back the panic so you bit the inside of your cheek and let him crush your hand.
“Almost there, baby,” you soothed as the men moved to the shape of an arrow that speared the crowd apart. 
Cameras flashed and fans screamed as they spotted the baby tucked into Lando’s chest, just the brown tufts of her curls visible. Those too were hidden as Lando cupped the back of her head and hummed a sweet lullaby to distract himself from the questions thrown his way. There was no way he could bring himself to stop and answer any of them until Ren was safely in the McLaren area, he couldn’t risk her safety among the strangers. It was only when he caught sight of the grey and orange coloured motorhome that he could muster up the courage to slip his hand away from yours and offer a small wave. 
The fear and reservations you had held never had time to surface while you focused on Lando but when you passed the doors and the outside world was silenced you finally breathed a sigh of relief. “We did it, Lan.”
“I don’t like this,” he admitted as he continued to his driver room. A bassinet was already set up with McLaren blankets and it made his lips twitch into an almost smile as you helped him to take Ren out of the front pack. “I can’t believe she slept through all that.”
He placed her into the bassinet and tucked her in while you wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed his shoulder. You knew it wouldn’t be long until she woke up for a feed as a heaviness ached in your breasts so you had to make the most of the quiet moments while you could, dragging Lando to the couch and forcing him to sit down. 
“What’s going on in that handsome head of yours?” you asked as you combed your fingers through his hair and tugged the stands so he looked at you. “Talk to me.”
“I thought having you both here would be easier, but I still feel sick,” he admitted after a minute of drawn out silence. “I need you here, don’t get me wrong, I hated being away from you but now I can't…I don’t even know how to explain it.”
You waited patiently for him to collate his thoughts, holding his hand while he watched Ren sleep peacefully. He longed for that peacefulness too.
“Infinite possibilities, it’s something Andrea gets us to think about when we race. One move can make a difference, one millimetre off the line could be the difference between the fastest lap or ending up in the gravel. Every action has an infinite amount of possibilities and it’s my job to figure out which is most likely to happen.” He took a deep breath from his quiet ramblings and exhaled a long sigh as he slowed down his words. “I can’t stop thinking about the infinite possibilities with Ren. Every bad thing that could happen, everything that could go wrong, I see it in my head. All. The. Time. I can’t stop.”
His words died out with a sob and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into your embrace as he fell apart. This was the moment you had been expecting, though it was still gut wrenching to witness. All the ups and downs this season had been leading to one cataclysmic peak where he had to release the pent up thoughts he had tried to suppress.
“Do you remember that day at Silverstone, the first time I came back to the paddock?” You knew he was listening by the way he held his breath to silence the sobs that jolted his shoulders. Rubbing his back softly, you kissed his temple and stared at the poster on the wall, seeing how much his face had matured in the last four years.
“When I sat in your room alone it was like time stood still. I had so much time to think that I imagined every horror scenario of you and your car and that fear made my stomach turn. I couldn’t eat anything all day,” you admitted as he pulled back with shimmering eyes and damp cheeks. “But the moment I saw you napping in the cockpit of your car I could finally think again. Not a single one of those scenarios came close to what was actually happening in that moment.”
You wiped his eyes and cupped his face in your hands. “It doesn’t matter that there’s endless possibilities for how the future might go, Lando. All that matters is this moment, and wasting time thinking about things that may never even happen only makes us miss out on today.”
“You aren’t scared we are making the wrong decisions?”
“Of course I’m scared, babe. But I know the man I married and I know that the decisions we make, whether they are right or wrong, come from a good place.” You placed a hand over his heart, feeling the bump under his shirt of the necklace he wore for Ren. “That’s the best any parent can hope for.”
His hand came to rest over yours for a moment before he lifted it to his lips and kissed your wedding ring. “I need to go but I’ll be back before the race starts.”
You nodded as he went to the small bathroom and washed his face, looking clear headed and calm once more. “Are you alright?” you asked as he started to undress and grab his fireproofs from the closet.
He pulled the skin tight material over his head and looked at your reflection in the mirror. “No, but I will be.”
The honesty was more relieving despite his words and you were glad he hadn’t just lied and said he was fine.
With a small smile, he leaned into the bassinet and kissed Ren’s cheek. “I love you, little lady, more than anything in this whole wide world.”
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Five years after Imola had stolen your breath away, it had done it again. This time your voice was hoarse from the screams of support and happiness as Lando won the race.
It was as if all the tears ever shed at the circuit were released from the heavens to cascade upon the track with only three laps to go. Max and Charles had just passed the pit entrance before the deluge fell but Lando had made the split second decision to box and change to full wets. He had quickly caught up with the better grip and took the lead when they pitted on the next lap.
You hadn’t been able to move from where you stood rooted on the balcony in front of the home straight. Lando had always been able to dance in the rain, making his car sing in harmony to the beat of the drops on the blacktop. This was his element, but every turn gave you heart palpitations.
Yellow flags flew as some drivers tried their luck with their slicks, praying the rain would pass, only to spin out when they hit a puddle. One rookie aquaplaned off the track, leaving tire ruts in the grass, before rejoining the track and you gasped as Lando had to swerve to avoid him.
“We saw there was a close call on that final turn. How stressful was that?”
“It was scary, so scary. Knowing that my wife was watching just ahead, and seeing that car come right in front of me…my wife and my daughter, they were all I could think about. It’s so wet out there, turn too quick and there’s just no grip, nothing to keep me on the track. I was certain I was gone when that car came at me.”
Lando brushed his cap off and combed his hair as his lips pressed tight to hide the tremble. “It was so scary. You just have no idea what it’s like in those split seconds where you react on instinct and don’t know if you have just saved your life or forfeited it. It’s a risk, and I used to find it fun when I was younger but not now. I have too much to risk now.”
You cradled Ren closer as the McLaren team let you through to the front of the barrier. You hadn’t planned on stepping out of the motorhome but Lando was clearly not okay and you needed to get to him.
“It’s hard to be excited over winning when I thought I had just about made my wife a widow again, or that my daughter was going to grow up and not know me,” he said, answering another question that you had missed as you navigated your way out of the garage. “As much as I love this sport, and I am grateful for all the people who have helped me to get to where I am, I love my family more.”
He seemed to sense you in the crowd and Renleigh started to cry in your arms as you reached the barrier. The reporter followed him as he crossed the short distance and pressed his sweaty forehead to yours. “I’m going to be alright,” he whispered for only you to hear before he took Ren, who instantly settled on his shoulder, as the crowd ‘awww’d at the sight.
“I have been thinking hard about this for the last few months,” he continued as he gently bounced Ren back to sleep, “but this will be my last season in Formula One. I have always put 100% into what means the most to me and I haven’t been able to do that with racing taking me away from my family.”
The shock that rippled through the crowd and stunned the reporter into silence didn’t reach you. You had seen the look in his eyes when he parked in front of the 1st place signage and pulled his helmet off. He hadn’t thrown his hands in the air, he hadn’t waved to the crowd or his team. He had fallen to his knees and ripped his gloves off to feel the solid ground beneath his palms as the rain continued to fall.
The microphone shifted to you as you watched Lando hold Ren tighter and brush his lips over her dark curls. “It must have been harrowing to watch that last lap, especially since it wasn’t far from where you laid a wreath earlier today.”
“I trust every decision Lando makes. I knew he would make it through,” you said with a reassuring smile to your husband as you clutched the necklace that held your first wedding ring. “And every year when I visit I ask René to watch over him. Maybe he was listening all this time.”
Click here for the epilogue.
Tagging: @yunnie-f1 @neiich @zendayabelova @stillbreathin @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alwaysclassyeagle @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @lightsoutletsgo @pleasantducktimetravel @pierre-gasllllllyyyyyy @holy-macncheese-balls @belennasif @ophcelia @love4lando @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19
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ferrstappen · 1 year
Note
hey bubs, dunno if your taking requests still but I was wondering if you could write dad!Max taking his kids to a theme park for the first time, maybe Disney?
Thank you in advance
Disney World Break (Max Verstappen x fem reader
Max insisted, like really insisted on taking the kids to Disney World, you were already in Miami and a flight to Orlando would be short forty-five minutes.
You, on the other hand, weren’t so thrilled about the idea of taking two four-year-old to a theme park, walking under the humid sun for hours, packed with people from all over the world who could recognize your very famous husband.
The twins, Luca and Mila, both carbon copies of their father, pleaded you to go during the entire flight from Azerbaijan to Florida, encouraged by their father.
“Max, they’re too young to go, they’ll last two hours, tops” You told him as the twins were sleeping, cuddling each other.
“We can take breaks or whatever, we’ll take one of those VIP tours so we can skip lines,” Max hummed at the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair while his head rested on your lap.
Something flashed as you looked at him, always acting like a child outside the track, maybe because he was trying to connect with his inner child, and it all made sense. “Baby, have you ever been to Disney World?”
Blue eyes made contact with yours, his hands finding their home on your thigh. “No, not in Orlando at least. Mum and dad took a Victoria and I to Disneyland in France, but I don’t remember much”
Those words were enough to make you close your eyes and take a deep breath, knowing both Max and you were going to regret this, but it was going to be another adventure for your books. “Ok, baby. We are going to Disney world. You better book that VIP shot soon, and of course we’re going to Magic Kingdom.”
Fast forward two days and you were on the entrance of the park, Max helping Luca to choose his first ears, all while carrying Mila on his arms and telling her to choose whatever she wanted.
“Those ears look really great on you, my love.” You knelt in front of your son, fixing his hair so it wouldn’t look messy.
Just as you were speaking with your private tour guide, Max walked next to you, placing his hand on your waist and gently squeezing it to catch your attention.
“Put them on, liefde.” Max placed a pair of classic Minnie ears, as he adjusted his own Mickey hat.
It seemed like you were not only in charge of your twins, somewhere along the way after riding the Jungle Cruise, your husband started taking Luca and Mila to every shop, money not being an issue as the twins overindulged in merch and sweets.
“What do you think about going to the teacups next?” Max asked Mila, who was on his shoulders.
“Daddy, I’m tired.” Mila complained.
The whispered I told you so didn’t pass unnoticed by Max, who playfully placed his hand very near your ass.
“Max! It’s full of children here, have some respect!” You laughed, placing a kiss on his chin, only to be interrupted.
“Eww! Mama and daddy don’t!” Luca said making a disgusted expression, only to be reprimanded by his sister.
“How about we head to the castle and take our family photo?” You suggested and Max agreed, asking the guide to walk you to the best picture spot.
The sun was glowing, the four of you wearing your ears. Mila was in front of you while Luca was in front of Max who placed a hand on his shoulder and another on your ass, giving it a light squeeze just as the photographer snapped the picture.
This wasn’t a vacation, though. Just after the fireworks exploded, you were on a SUV, full of Disney World bags including multiple t-shirts, dolls, Mickey Mouse replicas, a play set of Cinderella castle driving to the airport where the jet was already waiting for the four of you.
You laughed after noticing multiple Pandora jewelry bags full of Disney charms, bracelets and earrings, even if you insisted to Max that Mila would never wear them. Max didn’t care, whatever his princess wanted, whatever his princess would get.
Max and you were still wearing your ears, staring at Mila and Luca who were both sleeping between the two of you.
“So, what do you say to a week long Disney vacation when the season’s over?” Max proposed and you giggled.
“Only if you ride all the roller coasters with them while I eat my churro” You answered and Max laughed; his gorgeous cackle which made the corner of his eyes crinkle and his mouth form the most beautiful smile before leaning to leave a kiss on your lips, careful to not disturb the twins.
“Deal”
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bad268 · 3 months
Note
i am recently becoming obsessed with brock purdy he’s just so cute and i have a request maybe f!reader comforting her boyfriend brock after the loss of the super bowl
Next Year (Brock Purdy X Reader)
Fandom: RPF/NFL
Requested: Clearly (thrown together quickly bc if i didn't it wouldn't be out til April lol)
Warnings: none
POV: Second Person (You/your)
W.C. 431
Summary: Post-game flights
As always, my requests are OPEN
MASTERLIST // HITLIST
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~~(^Pinterest)
It was not his fault. The team played well, and Brock was on top of it. Sure, he had a couple of stumbles, but he was under a lot of pressure, you knew that. It was his first Super Bowl against the modern-day Tom Brady. It was going to be hard, and you told him that. You knew it was going to be difficult because it seemed like everything was stacked against the Niners.
As soon as it went into overtime, you knew it was over. The team did not know the rules of overtime, and they kept the ball. Even as a viewer, you knew that was not the move. Let alone when Patrick Maholmes and Travis Kelce started celebrating on the sideline after the flip. 
And when you got back to the hotel, the only thing you could do was hug him. You two hid away in the hotel that you would have to leave in the morning. The last thing he wanted to do was face the world or look at the things people were saying online.
You watched movies and ordered room service, you answered the door instead of him. You gave him a back massage and before you knew it, it was check-out time. When you got to the airport, you held Brock’s hand and split off from the rest of the team. 
“Where are we going?” He asked, watching his team head toward the private jet while you and he started walking towards the public departures entrance. “The private jet is the other way.”
“We’re not going back to San Fransisco yet,” You replied simply, showing him the email confirmation of the new flights. You walked through the doors and up to a confirmation kiosk as Brock read through the email.
“We’re going to Miami? Why? What’s in Miami?” He asked quickly.
“Slow down,” You chuckled, taking your phone back as you finished checking you both in for your flight. “We’re not staying in Miami. It’s just for the night. We’ll be taking another flight tomorrow.”
“Where are we going after that?” Brock asked as you walked through the airport towards security. You had the pre-TSA check, so you did not have to wait in the long line. 
“Somewhere you won't need to worry about,” You replied ominously. You were not going to tell him anything. “This is your chance to relax. So let me handle all of the stressful stuff for now, and you focus on getting yourself back in the mindset of a Super Bowl champion because you’re getting that ring next year.”
~~~~~
© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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sunflowerskies00 · 22 days
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bet my heart, part 1
this moon's gonna turn into daylight
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Flying was possibly my least favorite thing in the entire world. This was unfortunate because as someone who was on tour and had to travel by plane all the time- it’s an awful thing to dislike. If I had it my way it would be a tour bus or car everywhere. However, my best friend had just been named captain of his professional hockey team, which meant I needed to be in Canada. So I got off the stage in Miami and was currently on a flight to Vancouver so I could be there to celebrate with Quinn and make fun of him during his photos, as a best friend should.
The nice part about being one of the biggest names in music? Private jet. The only thing that made flying tolerable. My manager had insisted on sending security with me so poor Rob had to come with, but I had insisted on getting him the nicest hotel possible. I was staying at Quinn’s, and I had already informed Rob I would call him if I needed him but I didn’t need him to follow me around all weekend. I’d be fine. I knew he'd be following me around anyways, it's a 'safety concern' for me to not have at least one person around.
~*~
I have the car drop me off at Quinn’s before taking Rob to his hotel and making a promise to Rob that I'd send him a text when I was safe and inside. I head straight up to Quinn’s apartment and before I can raise my fist to knock the door swings open. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me into a hug. 
“Hey S,” he swings me in a circle. 
“Missed you Quinny,” I mumble into his shoulder. 
“I missed you too,” he puts my feet back on the ground. “How did you convince the minions to give you time off?” He asks. The “minions” is how Quinn refers to my team of people. 
“I said that I needed a break from the studio and that I was coming to Vancouver to see you, no arguments,” I shrug. “How’s the fam?” I ask, walking into his living room and plopping onto the couch. 
“Everyone’s good, my mom and dad are coming to visit in a couple of weeks I think.”
“I miss Ellen and Jim, and Michigan,” I sigh. “And people not knowing who I am wherever I go.” Quinn pulls me into a side hug, my head falling onto his shoulder. 
“You have a break this summer right?” He asks. “A long one?” 
“Yeah, I decided on no touring and no recording for the whole summer, June through September are going to be work-free, well sort of, writing still has to happen, I'm supposed to release an album this fall."
“Come to Michigan,” he says. I glance over at him, raising an eyebrow. I always went to Michigan so I was confused. “I know you normally come for a couple of weeks, but come for your entire break. You're less cranky and frustrated when you're there.”
“Sure Quinny,” I agree, ignoring the part of that statement where he called me cranky and frustrated. I yawn and it’s not lost on me when I snuggle farther into his shoulder.
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The P. Diddy mess could be the reason for all this talk about Harry going back to the UK. Didn't the FBI want Andrew to come to the US for an interview and the UK said no to that? Harry better start living within embassy walls. LOL
I don’t think Harry knows as much about P.Diddy himself personally as we’re all speculating. If he did, he’d get more than one line in the lawsuit. I think it’s more likely that he’s aware of circumstances *around* these parties like who else was there, not so much about P. Diddy’s whole operation.
Harry keeps talking about going back to the UK because without an active royal connection, the Sussex brand is DOA. (I mean, it’s already dead. Harry’s visits back to the UK is practically CPR efforts at this point.)
I’m really curious to see what happens next. How do the Sussexes handle this? What does the BRF do? Does Harry come back to London in May for the IG anniversary service? Does he go home after?
Something I don’t think has been pointed out here is that yesterday afternoon, P. Diddy was papped at the Miami airport and last night, the flight plans for P. Diddy’s private plane show it was headed for Cape Verde…which doesn’t have an extradition treaty with the US.
So if P. Diddy is fleeing…those are some serious charges and he’s very guilty. (Real world application here — feds don’t do raids like this until they are absolutely 100% certain there’s incriminating evidence that could be destroyed if the suspects knew we/they were coming.)
And Harry getting named in the lawsuit as someone who may or may not know something about these parties is very serious. We’ll see what happens. His travel will be watched very closely.
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w1ldthoughts · 8 months
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Mon amour, Mauritius
Synopsis: Jack and Zoey go on vacation together.
Warning: smut
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The last hour of Zoey’s life had been spent checking the packing list that Jack sent her a few days earlier. It was so much better than racking her brain trying to guess where in the world he was taking her and how their first trip together was going to go. On the ride to the tarmac to meet him, she thought about how usually couples go on a quick road trip together or do something small, but they were literally leaving the country. And since Jack was on his big apology tour, she knew he’d be going all out so there was no room to ask questions, even after they’d been in the air for several hours. If the surf and turf dinner they had on the plane was any sign of what was to come, she was in for a very luxurious five days.
“Mr. Harlow and Ms. Mason, bienvenue. Welcome to Mauritius.” The resort manager announced, walking them through the private lot and up the elevator into the presidential suite behind the staff that was carrying their bags. “We hope that your stay at Shangri-La will be the utmost enjoyable experience. My name is Claude and I will be at your service throughout your time here. Sir, if you or your guest need anything, my number is on the desk and the line will remain open 24 hours a day so please do not hesitate to use it. I hope that you all have a fun and relaxing time.”Jack thanked the man as he and his team headed out the door.
Sometimes Zoey forgot who he was to the rest of the world, this person of global influence and reach, because at the end of the day, he was just Jack to her. And just Jack was doing it big for their first vacation.
“I cannot believe you brought me to the middle of the Indian Ocean, Jackman. All I said was that you were stressed and should be a little less hard on yourself.”
He approached her slowly, laughing a little as he pulled her into his arms. “Baby, I heard what you said. But I also think it was about time we took a little trip together. I love spending time in Louisville and in Miami but I do want to make some once in a lifetime memories with you. This trip is going to be about relaxing…and also having the time of our fucking lives.”
“Well when you put it that way…” she mused, “it doesn’t sound so bad. But I will definitely need a few naps before we take on this adventure. That 20 hour flight beat my ass.”
“Shit, mine too.” He says with a timely yawn. “Good thing I have nothing planned for us tomorrow, except for finding something to eat after we wake up from our jet-lag comas.” He jokes.
They spent the entire first day in bed, alternating between naps, cuddling, and ordering room service. Jack cherished these moments the most, just getting to be around her without a care in the world. He had spent so much time holding everything down, trying his best to put his best foot forward and not embarrass his team or his family in any way because all of these people were counting on him but with Zoey…there was none of that. She wanted to be with him for exactly who he was, on good days and bad. It made his heart swell just thinking about it. And he couldn’t wait to shower her with the love and care that she’d continuously shown him.
That was the goal for this trip. And he was hellbent on meeting that goal.
The next morning, the couple woke up refreshed and had breakfast on their patio overlooking the water. Of course Jack told her that the events of the day would be a surprise, but he tell her to wear active clothes that she wouldn’t mind getting dirty. And her swimsuit. When they got to their destination, her jaw dropped.
“We’re riding ATVs? Oh my god this is amazing Jack!” She exclaimed, hugging him tight as he pressed his lips to the side of her head.
The instructor handed them both a helmet and went over the rules. They each hopped on their respective ATV and took off after their guide. For the next three hours, they rode along Gris Gris Beach, encountering the beautiful views and unique sights through off-road terrain. Zoey joined Jack on his ATV for the last few miles of their tour, stopping at a secluded waterfall. He asked her if she wanted to go for a swim, watching her face light up with excitement. They both stripped down to their swimsuits and walked hand in hand, tiptoeing into the warm water together, allowing it to render them weightless.
“I can’t believe we’re here.” Zoey whispered after coming up for air, now fully submerged in the water. She looked at her boyfriend who was about a foot away, his eyes an even brighter electric blue that had her convinced there really was heaven on Earth. She wrapped her legs around his waist when he got close enough and ran her thumb over his lips. When she kissed him his entire body froze, he would never get tired of the feeling, chills ran down his spine as he came back to himself and secured his arms around her to deepen the kiss.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against her lips, his voice sounding hoarse, “my pretty baby.”
She tangled her fingers in his wet curls, failing terribly to mask the joy that was bursting out of her. “I think you’re pretty too. Beautiful even.”
Jack closes his eyes with a sigh, their foreheads still touching as he nods slowly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome bub, just telling the truth.” She laughs, still playing with his hair.
“Not for that. For um—for seeing me.” He sets her back on her feet and looks deep into those big brown eyes he can’t get enough of. “I used to think that I had to hide my emotions and just wait to unload all my shit with my therapist but you, you saw I was struggling and you helped me talk through what I was feeling. I’ve just never had that before and it just confirmed what I already knew.”
Zoey furrows her brows, waiting for him to explain further. “I don’t deserve you. But I’m lucky as hell that you chose me. And all I can do is love you with everything I have, for as long as I can.”
She wraps her arms around him, running her fingers along his freckled shoulders, holding him close. “You…are the greatest love I’ve ever known. And I will always be here to catch you if you fall. Always.”
He feels the tears prick the corners of his eyes and lets out a short laugh, “okay enough with this lovey dovey shit, we are in paradise. Let’s go do some more exploring. I just had to get that off my chest and here you go being all sentimental.”
She rolls her eyes and follows him on the walk back to the spot where the ATV is parked. “You started it! I just matched your energy. You’re the one that was basically crying, but I’M sentimental.”
Jack drove all the way back to their original starting point with a huge smile on his face.
When they got back to the resort, Claude let them know that their traditional dinner was booked and would be starting promptly at 8pm. They got out of their muddy clothes and showered together, to save water of course.
“Now we have 4 hours to do…whatever we want.” He mused, giving her a sly smile, putting his phone on the charger. She gave him a quick glance, a sense of warmth already brewing in her core. They quickly but delicately lost themselves in a kiss, the taste of yearning in both of their bodies. It was almost a demand, an instinct as Jack somehow ended up on top of her, trailing little pecks along her neck.
“I need,” he whispered in between kisses.
“What do you need, J?”
His gaze was intense as he settled himself between her legs with an elated look on his face at her lack of underwear. “I need to hear you tonight. Let me take care of you like you deserve…please.” All she could muster up as a response was a nod. A low moan escaped her lips when he inserted two wet fingers inside, her walls adhering to his will, welcoming his touch.
Her voice was his favorite sound and being the cause of her intense pleasure definitely boosted his ego.
“Does that feel good, baby?” He already knew the answer, feeling her legs start to shake but a little reassurance never hurt anyone.
“It’s—it’s so good,” she uttered between pants, grabbing at the sheets for support as he continued to delicately stimulate her g-spot. The calloused padding of his fingers applied just the right amount of pressure. Small circular motions around her clit went a long way, leaving her gasping for breath, losing control of her body the longer he went. He could literally her clenching and around his middle finger so he slowed his movements until her breaths became more steady.
While she continued to come down from her almost orgasm, he wrapped an arm around her waist, allowing her to hook one of her legs around him. The other was placed on his shoulder. They couldn’t get any closer if they tried. Jack could feel his heartbeat in his ears as he slid all the way in, stopping himself from cumming right then and there. He needed to keep it together and compose himself but the sight of her below him was really testing his willpower.
“Fuck, I don’t know how long imma last.” He grunts out. “You feel so fucking good.” A strained groan rolls out of his mouth, tightening his grip in her and staying in his blissful mindset.
Slow thrusts opened a floodgate of emotions. They’d gotten used to the distance, it made them stronger. They’d gotten over a few hurdles that only made them love harder and her eyes were locked on his while his hips found a steady, comfortable rhythm. There were a few tears mixed in with sweat, but it wasn’t because she was sad, everything was just all hitting her once. As a very normal girl from North Carolina she’d never expected any of this. Never seeing herself fall so hard for someone, who on paper was so different than anyone she’d ever dated, and the love she’d developed over the last several months was all-encompassing and a little overwhelming. In this world, there’s so much uncertainty and nothing is guaranteed, but one thing Zoey knew for sure was that the man holding her close, also held her heart in his hands.
So she threw her head back and gave in, unlocking another piece of herself to share with him, while reaching her climax. He finally felt free to let go, soft curses coming from his mouth, feeling his dick pulsing inside her. After he pulled out, they laid down together for a while, a silent “I love you” moved about the room as they spooned.
Miraculously, they made it to dinner on time and enjoyed the rest of their vacation making memories, emphasizing the very known fact that they lit a fire in each other that they hoped would never go out.
Taglist:
@jackharloww
@killatravtramp
@middlechild404
@harlowcomehome
@itsyagirljaz
@iknowdatsrightbih
@earthtoharlow
@heavyhitterheaux
@hoodharlow
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lantur · 5 months
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I got back from Peru this morning after an overnight flight from Lima. :) It's been wonderful to be with Derek and Westin again, and to nap and relax after a 10-day trip!
Unorganized thoughts,
The Inca Trail was the most intense, demanding physical experience of my life. The group my friend and I were with hiked 26 miles/41 kilometers over 4 days, in rough terrain including the highlands of the Andes, the Amazon, and the cloud forests of Peru. The hike was at altitude, at an elevation nearing 13,828 feet/4,215 meters - which I struggled with, coming from living at sea level. I learned that I'm fit on sea level, but NOT at altitude. I also caught a pretty bad cold from another group member overnight on Day 3, which made Day 3 and Day 4's hikes extra challenging.
We were up at 4:30 AM every morning (3:30 AM on our final day to reach Machu Picchu), and due to my slower pace/altitude struggles, I usually had ~10-12 hours of hiking steep inclines and inclines. It was really so hard and I had to be very careful on the steep, rocky steps. The hiking poles saved me! We had to ascend and descend four mountains over the course of our hike. Ascents were really challenging for me due to shortness of breath at altitude. Descents were easier on my cardiovascular system, but required a lot of concentration to make sure I didn't miss my footing and fall down steep, uneven stone steps. Each step was about 12 to 18 inches high, which is significant for my friend and I, who are under five feet tall.
We also camped every night for 3 nights, in tents, which I've never done before. Our group bonded over the struggles of surviving the hideous campsite bathrooms, not being able to shower for four days, finding safe and private places to use the bathroom in the wild, staying warm at night, staying dry in the constant rain on day 2, and our feet and legs killing us at the end of the day. We ate every breakfast, lunch, dinner, and teatime together, and I liked everyone in the group. :) We enjoyed our time together and talked a lot.
We got to explore several Inca ruins on the way to Machu Picchu, and Machu Picchu itself was incredible. The scenery and views along the hike - the mountains, the jungle, the cloud forest - made it worth it, despite how physically difficult it was. I've never seen anything like it before. The sound of the birds singing in the jungle, the llamas and alpacas in the mountains, the butterflies, the rainforest flora... That was amazing.
One of my favorite memories was Thursday morning, when we all woke up at 3:30 AM and hiked in the dark to be among the first at the checkpoint to enter. We all brushed our teeth in the forest around the trail and hung out until the sun rose at 5:30 AM and we could enter the park. :)
My friend and I spent Friday chilling out in Cusco and recovering from our hike. We were SO tired when we got back to our hotel on Thursday night, and so relieved to finally shower and sleep in a real bed. We traveled from Cusco to Lima to Atlanta/Miami to Minneapolis. I got home this morning around 10:45 and I've literally just been sitting on the sofa or napping. Doing post-trip laundry was the big accomplishment of the day, lmao.
This was such an adventure. I'm so glad I could do it, and return safe. It was wonderful to experience South America for the first time, and I hope to go back many times. It was wonderful to completely disconnect with no phone/internet while I was in the mountains. The whole experience was a test of my physical and mental endurance, and my ability to be out of my comfort zone - but as I told my friend when we got back, while I was on the trail, simply focusing on nature and getting through each ascent and descent safely, it let me forget about the things I've experienced this year. My dad dying, estrangement from my mom, the ongoing interpersonal stresses at work. It was a great way to close out my 30th year, which has also been my hardest year.
My 31st birthday is tomorrow. :)
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the-cimmerians · 9 months
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oh good job tumblr, not including the damn link which was the whole point of the post. Here is the article.
On August 22, 1945, five airline stewardesses, as they were then called, formed the Air Line Stewardesses Association, wanting a labor union to give them a voice on a demanding, difficult job where they faced constant pressure about their bodies, poor working conditions, low pay, and restrictions on marriage status and age.
The position of flight attendant began on May 15, 1930, when a woman named Ellen Church worked as what was then known as a “skygirl.” Women worked very hard and they had to look glamorous while doing it. They spent hours on their feet, dealt with drunk passengers, bent and reached and stooped over. A pedometer worn by one stewardess on a 1948 flight from Chicago to Miami showed she walked eight miles during the flight. The career itself wasn’t glamorous — but it had to look glamorous to the passengers. Rather than train the hostesses, airlines required them to pay for their own training with private services; at least one flight attendant paid $325 to a private school for stewardess training in Kansas City in 1948.
The sexualized nature of this work meant that woman had to uphold physical standards so that the real life versions of fictional Don Draper could enjoy their flight. There were strict requirements around height, weight, and appearance. The women had to remain single. Moreover, there was a forced retirement on your 32nd birthday. In other words, airlines used young women to sell sexual allure to male customers, and they were then expected to choose conventional lifestyles and marry. The 1951 film Three Guys Named Mike followed a flight attendant played by Jane Wyman around her adventures of love and travel until she settled down with one of the Mikes, a small-town science professor, where she could perform traditional duties of domesticity.
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artemispt · 1 year
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Sorry this is going to sound creepy but they definitely flew out last night. Someone on a gossip site said Lando was spotted and grabbed for a pic when he leaving for the airport and was apparently on his own wheeling his own bag, so not with Jon his trainer as usual. Someone made him take a pic for their friend, it’s kicking around sm somewhere. He’s wearing a white shirt and bright blue baseball cap turned backwards. Carlos looks like he has a bag in these pics too. They very likely met up at the airport.
There are also creepy people on the gossip site who track the drivers flights etc and someone said a private jet arrived in Augusta from Miami just past 11pm last night - they posted a screen shot of the plane arrivals tracker.
Yep, this is a bit creepy 😅 specially the tracking drivers flights part. People really do this?
But thank you for feeding my Carlando brain. So both of them wearing white shirts uh
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revengemode · 1 year
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Now why are you clowning me ?😭
I don't think it's crazy to say that Z has a way more expensive lifestyle than Tom ?
The only time we got a sighting of Z in a commercial flight in the last year was in early january when they went miami before their vacation...
And I'm not saying it's a bad thing, good for her,.but come on, T and Z clearly dont have the same relationship to fame and money. (Again, not a bad thing)
What you just said is not what what you said in your last ask… that’s why I clowned you.
“Z is all about that celebrity lifestyle” and “she is doing all those brand deals to keep affording it” is simply not true and I’m not sure you’re getting it lol.
The “Zendaya” brand is associated with luxury but Zendaya Maree is not coming out of pocket for any of these things.
Again… those brands pay Zendaya (money in her pockets) to wear their designs (clothes, jewelry) and attend their events/shoots. She does not pay a dollar (or euro) for those private jets, hotel suites, expensive clothes, shoes, and jewelry.
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wiiildflowerrr · 1 month
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Dad!Michael and Lua in their private suite before their flight to Miami 🍼 (Love the single bunny shoe, Lua - this could start a trend.)
From Crystal's IG story
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spade-riddles · 11 months
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Isn't the apple event in California? Wasn't she just spotted in Miami, like yesterday? Hmm... that's a lot of movement. This is why I believe she and Taylor see each other more than people would know. Karlie is gonna a hop a flight, no matter the time, place, or when she's 9 months pregnant. Goodness.
Private jet and likely a close attendant with her.
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