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#Delivery driver reader
heartfullofleeches · 1 year
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Delivery Driver Reader's thembo energy is unmatched.
Delivery Driver Reader who delivers goods to Yan Crime Boss, blissfully unaware that the pizza boxes they're handing off are filled with a different kind of dough than they're used to. Crime Boss enjoys how oblivious and upbeat they are towards everything going on around them. When they get word of their favorite delivery person arriving at the door they drop everything just to uphold their facade as an honest business person and chat them up.
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Yan Crime Boss, in the middle of an interrogation and cutting off their victim's ring finger: Still got a whole nother set of fingers. You better start talking if you want our doc to stitch this back on for you
[A voice picks up from their intercom] "Hey, boss? That driver you have a crush on is heading up to your office. Forgot you were in the middle of a meeting."
Yan Crime Boss: Shit [Shoves the victim's fingers down their throat before throwing them beneath their desk and cleaning the blood off their desk, using the few seconds before delivery reader walks in the door to fix their suit]
Delivery Driver Reader, bursting through the door: Hey, Bossman! How ya doing today?
Yan Crime Boss, kicking the squirming body beneath their desk: Fantastic! How about you?
Delivery Driver Reader: Ah, can't complain. Think someone's been tailing me for the past week, but I'm probably just working too hard.
Yan Crime Boss: I'm sure you are. Say, why don't I wrap up what I'm doing and take you out to dinner?
Delivery Driver Reader: but didn't you order pizza?
[Crime Boss raises from their chair and takes the boxes from them - throwing them all out the window.]
Yan Crime Boss: I'm going on a diet
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navybrat817 · 3 months
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Delivery driver Bucky is a feral lover, right?
Of course he does, nonnie!
Delivery Route
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 600 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), possessive behavior, dirty talk, puns, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: A Moanday treat! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky arranges his route so that your place is his last stop. How else will he have extra time to deliver you his package?
And, yes, he does mean his package. Not the one you ordered.
You’ve learned not to wear underwear during his visits, unless you want him to tear them off. Which he sometimes does when he has you bent over the back of your couch and pockets them for his collection.
As much as he wants to fuck you some days, he’ll taste you first when he has time.
So when you hear him drop to his knees, you don’t even have a chance to ask what he’s doing before you feel the first flick of his tongue. It amazes you how deep it can get, along with his fingers, like he can’t get enough of what belongs to him.
He’ll eat you out until your legs shake and you can’t feel them anymore, the couch keeping you from collapsing on the ground.
“Taste so fucking sweet. Practically flowing out of you like honey. My tongue that good? You need my cock, baby?”
He won’t give it to you until your release is dripping down his chin and it does after the mess you make all over this face.
Your eyes prick with pleasurable tears when you feel the head of his cock against your fluttering hole and you swear you feel him in your soul once he finally pushes in.
When he grabs your hips and pulls you back to meet his rough thrusts, you can’t help but cry out from how good it feels when he splits you in half.
“My dirty girl. Bet you buy shit just so I show up,” he taunts affectionately as you clench around him. “I’m flattered you want my cock that badly.”
“Please,” you beg shamelessly, feeling him throb with the need to fill you up as badly as you needed him to finish inside you..
The animalistic growl he lets out when your release triggers his makes your eyes roll back in your head. “Letting me wreck your cunt. That’s my girl.”
You love how he fills you to the brim. Love how he ruins you.
And how he takes care to clean you up when you’re still coming down from your high, even when he takes a moment to smack your ass for good measure.
The sweet kiss he gives you when he helps you sit nearly brings tears to your eyes.
“Hey,” he smiles, framing your face as you blink a few times. “Not too rough?”
“Never,” you whisper, sipping the water he graciously hands you. There’s a bottle for him, too.
He runs a hand through his hair and you still see a bit of shine on his scruff from your earlier orgasm when he sheepishly smiles. “Maybe I can stop by again later?” He asks, his usual swagger nowhere to be found as his blue eyes fill with nervousness.
Your heart races as you pull him in for another kiss, glad that he wants to visit during his downtime. “Knock twice, okay?”
He smiles, his confidence back in full swing. “I always knock before I stick anything in your slot.”
He chuckles and dodges the pillow before you can hit him.
“You and your puns,” you smile as he fixes his uniform. You don’t know how the fabric doesn’t tear from his muscular frame.
“Perk of the job,” he winks. “Be good until I get back.”
“I’ll try my best,” You tease as he pushes his chestnut hair back.
“You better. Because I plan to give you an overnight delivery.”
You nail him with the pillow this time.
And can’t keep the smile off your face knowing he’ll spend the night with you.
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Okay, lovelies! You may go about your business! I don't know where that came from, but maybe this man can deliver more for you lovelies. Love and thanks for reading! Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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suiana · 10 months
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this post tickled me funny bone therefore I shall make a delivery driver yan
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(continuation from the post)
"...what..?"
"ya that lasanja"
"there's no more?"
"yeah"
you pinch your nose bridge, staring at the text messages from your door dash driver. what? was he a kid or something?? his attitude was absolutely... childish! and now your mood for food has been spoiled.
"then I don't want anything. sorry."
you switch off your phone, relaxing back against your couch. your eyes flutter shut, trying to get some rest only for your phone to begin ringing again.
"wait pls"
"I can get u some lasange"
"laysanya"
"I CAN MAKE SOME FOR U"
"FREE"
"pls..."
what the fuck???
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reasonsforhope · 4 months
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"A Ghanaian-English entrepreneur has designed an electric bike from the ground up that’s transforming short-range transportation in her home country, proving that problem-solving in Africa can be done in Africa, by Africans.
[Valerie Labi's] company, Wahu!, assembles each bike by hand, and they can travel up to 80 miles [128 kilometers] on a single charge. This means that a delivery rider for Glovo or Bolt can comfortably cover a whole day’s work without refueling.
Anyone who’s visited Accra, Ghana, in the dry season will remember the incredibly poor air quality. Poor roads mean that cars are stuck in second and third gears, and old cars traveling in second and third gears mean plenty of extra car exhaust.
Poor roads also mean exposed dirt, and exposed dirt means fine-grained dust. Combined with a lack of rain, the smog, dust, and car exhaust make the air in parts of the capital unfit for human health.
Wahu! bikes help alleviate all three of these problems, and despite her English nativity [Note: Super weird and unclear way to phrase it?] and education, the bikes were designed and manufactured in Spintex, Accra.
“By introducing electric bikes into Ghana’s transportation ecosystem, we’re not only providing a greener alternative but also offering speed and convenience,” Labi told The Mirror. “Our bikes are a testament to how service delivery can be seamlessly merged with environmental conservation.”
Valerie Labi is a true inspiration, and besides her transportation company, she got her start in the Ghanaian economy in sanitation. She holds a chieftaincy title as Gundugu Sabtanaa, given to her by the previous Chief of the Dagbon traditional area in the Northern Region of Ghana. She has three children, holds a double major in Economics and Sustainability from two separate universities, and has visited 59 countries.
Getting her start in Northern Ghana, she founded the social enterprise Sama Sama, a mobile toilet and sanitation company that now boasts 300,000 clients.
During her travels around the small, densely populated country, she also recognized that transportation was not only a problem, but offered real potential for eco-friendly solutions.
“It took us two years to effectively design a bike that we thought was fit for the African road, then we connected with Jumia and other delivery companies to get started,” she told The Mirror. “Currently, I have over 100 bikes in circulation and we give the bikes on a ‘work and pay’ basis directly to delivery riders.”
According to Labi, each driver pays about 300 Ghana cedis, or about $24.00, per week to use the bike, which can travel 24 miles per hour, and hold over 300 pounds of weight. The fat tires are supported by double-crown front/double-spring rear suspension.
The bikes are also guaranteed by the company’s proprietary anti-theft system of trackers. Only a single bike has been stolen, and it was quickly located and returned to the owner."
-via Good News Network, January 24, 2024
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povlnfour · 7 months
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ .JPG (JUST PROPOSE GODDAMNIT) (LN4)
pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader
summary: lando’s childhood sweetheart has long since been the subject of his photography account. fans just can’t wait to see one specific post from the couple in the future
*face claim for y/n: edie rose (but please imagine her as you see fit!)
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by daniel3.jpg, charles_leclerc and 95,602 others
lando.jpg life lately🧡
view all comments
user1 me checking y/n’s hand for a ring everytime lando posts her
user5 FELT i got so excited when i saw one here then realised it was her right hand
user2 SO REAL nearly 8 years im expecting it soon…
daniel3.jpg one of you looks super graceful w the food
landonorris gtfo
yourusername (affectionate)**
user3 SUCH A CUTIE
user3 y/n i mean xo
user4 MOM AND DAD
user5 JPG MR .JPG. JUST PROPOSE GODDAMNIT!!!!!
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by daniel3.jpg, charles_leclerc and 97,602 others
lando.jpg my muse and me
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user5 lando i BEG just ask the woman to marry you
user6 his muse🥹🥹🥹 if someone called me that i would be a puddle
user1 oh she so has stops to pet random dogs energy
yourusername i love you my darling
user4 the third photo *faints*
user7 JPG!!!
user5 finally my legacy is catching on
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 103,447 others
yourusername lando got .jpg-ed of his own for a change
view all comments
user3 the caption sounds….
yourusername @/user no comment
user8 MISS Y/N THAT FIRST PHOTO IS ILLEGAL
user5 i just gasped out loud at work in front of customers
user2 Y/N KNOWS WHAT WE WANT TO SEE
user1 i know we’re freaking over the first pic but his smile in the second one i’m so in love. how do you cope with him looking at you like that?
yourusername i quite simply don’t🩷
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by daniel3.jpg, charles_leclerc and 95,602 others
lando.jpg holidays as captured by us
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user5 a whole fancy holiday to greece and stILL NO RING????
user7 mr. norris the next photo u post better be a damn proposal or god help me
charles_leclerc good decision to put her first, that way people don’t run away
user6 CHARLES😭😭😭
user1 JPGGGGG
user3 look at that GLOW she’s so main character (you’re cute too lando i guess)
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 102,771 others
yourusername baby is away but still sending deliveries💐
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user7 flowers but never a ring�� i could treat you better baby
landonorris 🤔
user3 ^^^ WHAT THEY SAID
oscarpiastri is this what you had to ask lewis for help with @/landonorris
landonorris international shipping isn’t my thing ok
user4 best boyfriend ever
user7 he COULD be the best husband ever, but🤭
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 206,231 others
landonorris happy birthday babygirl. so glad u lived long enough to utter the words ‘get a picture of my boots dickhead they’re brighter than ur future’
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user7 so no bday proposal either😐
user5 SIR YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME
landonorris guys stop being mean i’m only small
danielricciardo he’s joking bullying turns him on
user1 lando you have to expect the marriage jokes in ur comments now
carlossainz55 feliz cumpleaños y/n!🥳
yourusername gracías, mi amigo🥹
user7 ‘my friend’ TEARS IN MY EYES SHES THE GRID BESTIE
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55 and 112,099 others
yourusername days in england are my fave bc it gave us my fav f1 driver (lewis hamilton)
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user4 Y/N/N U ARE SO REAL AHAHAHA
charles_leclerc i’m offended
yourusername ur my next favourite sweetie
landonorris IM NOT EVEN SECOND?
lewishamilton i expect you in a merc cap next race now
yourusername done king
lewishamilton visit soon🖤
landonorris absolutely not
user8 lando won’t propose so lewis said BET
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by daniel3.jpg, charles_leclerc and 95,108 others
lando.jpg night at the opera
view all comments
user3 AT THE OPERA? AND STILL NO…? JPG!!!
user5 JPG!!! JPG JPG
user1 JPG
user9 JPG!
user2 JPG JPG JPG SAY IT WITH ME
user6 JPG JPG JPG
user7 JPG!!!!!!!!!
landonorris why are you all shouting a photo type in my comments
landonorris oh
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by yourusername, daniel3.jpg and 100,072 others
lando.jpg singapore on film
view all comments
alex_albon JPG!!!
landonorris you have 3 seconds to leave my page
user8 IM IN TEARS OVER ALEX
user5 IT CAUGHT ON‼️
user1 definitely no ring☹️
yourusername reading your comments is like reading the latest tabloid
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 105,602 others
yourusername what do you mean we’ve been together for eight whole years??? what do you mean we’re not 15, young, dumb and in love anymore? i’d take another 8 in a heartbeat🧡
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landonorris eh we’re still dumb and in love, just maybe not the first one. love you baby🧡
fernandoalo_official you are still a child.
user4 HAPPY 8 YEARS TO MY FAVOURITE COUPLE☹️☹️☹️
user5 all the behind the scenes of him taking photos :(
user7 she really is his muse huh
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 214,520 others
landonorris sometimes when i look at you i think it’s only been 8 seconds with how much i learn about you each day. hard to believe it’s been 8 years, and that i love you more each day. no one else i’d want to spend the rest of my life with. i know you’re just settling until you can win over lewis (or charles, or george, or oscar, or alex, or carlos) but i’m feeling pretty lucky it’s me you chose to do that with.
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lewishamilton mate you just gotta get on my level
oscarpiastri good taste, y/n
landonorris NOT YOU TOO
yourusername thank you bff
user8 me waiting patiently for the anniversary proposal post????
user1 wishful thinking oomf
danielricciardo all jokes aside pal, happy you’ve managed to keep her around for this long despite being you. big love for you both🖤
landonorris HOW was that all jokes aside
yourusername believe it or not, it’s always you. happy anniversary baby🧡
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 107,821 others
yourusername lando caught the behind the scenes of my selfie taking and let me tell u the distance between me n him is important
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user2 this was not the post i was expecting but i’ll still take it
user5 i was hoping we'd get a different post but you still look good ma'am
user8 the fact he’s always there to take photos of you >> girl you have landed on your FEET
yourusername tell me about it. luckiest girl in the WORLD
lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by daniel3.jpg, yourusername and 112,562 others
lando.jpg y/n by me, me by me, me by y/n
view all comments
user4 so it’s official … no proposal?
user5 jeez man JPG.
user3 jpg!!!
user1 just propose goddamniT
yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and 206,719 others
yourusername i don’t even have the ability to be mean to you this time. my forever person. thank you for putting up with me. this feels like a dream i cannot believe i am a fiancée. THE EASIEST YES IVE EVER SAID (and you once asked me if i wanted to snooze the alarm)
view all comments
user3 OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD AM I DREAMING
user7 WHAT THE JAJHDBSVJA
lewishamilton finally! show me the ring this weekend (congratulations)
yourusername facetiming u rn
user5 IM???? MY LEGACY HAS ENDED AND I COULDNT BE HAPPIER
carlossainz55 couldn't be happier for the both of you
alex_albon LILY AND I ARE SCREAMING CONGRATS TO OUR FAVOURITE COUPLE
landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚
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liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 377,290 others
landonorris took my time but got there eventually. ‘just propose goddamnit’ WELL LOOK AT ME NOW! gonna have myself a wife. i love you baby, thanks for screaming yes immediately so i didn’t have to wait to hear your answer
view all comments
landonorris @/user5 i hope ur happy now
user5 VERY.
charles_leclerc can't believe you pulled it off mate, congrats!
oscarpiastri sad i can't scream JPG at you in the garage anymore but happy for the both of you!
yourusername my oscar :( cannot wait to squeeze you this weekend
oscarpiastri @/yourusername i better be a bridesmaid
landonorris why not a groomsman????
oscarpiastri @/landonorris i like her more
mclaren wedding (mclaren's version)
----
a/n:
hello hello, i have had so much fun writing and creating this so i hope you like it!!!!
was going to wait to post but after the hell that was quali i thought hey why not now
thank you all for reading! as always, comments likes and messages are appreciated and whatnot🫶 take care of yourselves this week!!! the temperature is starting to drop in france so i am wrapped up warm and i hope you’re looking after yourself wherever you are
taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie
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imaginaryf1shots · 14 days
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Hidden | Max Verstappen
WC: 1.5K
Max x wife!reader
Summery: May has always a private person, but is he that private that he could hide his wife of 8 years and 2 year-old son.
Warnings: none
AN: This is a little something, while I’m working on two big fics
Masterlist
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Max Verstappen is many things, and when people ask you to describe him they always have a lot to say. He’s a great driver, at the top of his career, he’s aggressive, he’s sarcastic, definitely has an unhealthy relationship with his skinny jeans. He’s also incredibly private, not much is known about him that he doesn’t want to be known, how he does it is a mystery.
You both value your privacy, and any post made of you before he made it to F1 was deleted the second there was a possibility he would join. You were both young, and you knew how much hate some wags get and you didn’t want that. While Max was off racing, you were back home finishing your studies, the moment you finished high school and you were both 18 you got married. A small wedding with only family and very close friends in attendance. Some of your families were against it at first, saying you’re too young, too naive but you never listened to them. Both you and Max knew what you wanted, and there was not stopping you from getting what you wanted.
You finished Uni and when Max moved to Monaco you did too, you met some of the drivers, the ones close to Max, you met some of the team that were also close to him. And you even attended a few races, but no one paid you any attention, thinking you’re just a fan.
However the last time you made it to a race was well over a year and a half ago, you gave birth to your baby boy last winter, and after a hard delivery and a long recovery, where Max stuck by your side through it all. Your boy is almost 2 and he misses Max every time he’s away from home.
”Are you sure this is the right time?” Max asked you as you got yourself ready, Karel happily playing with his toys next to Max on the bed.
“I mean we’ve been married for 8 years now, and dating for three before that.” You point out and finish the last touches to your make-up. “We have a son and I want him to grow up seeing you do what you love to do, I don’t know when you actually want to retire, so let him see you do it before it’s too late.”
You walk over to your husband and sit in front of him with a smile.
”You’re right.” Max leans over and presses a kiss to your lips, that leaves you craving for more, Max pulls back leaving you chasing after his lips. The dutch driver laughs and lets you close the gap, your lips meeting for a bit longer, before you have to pull back or things would escalate.
“Don't forget your ring.”
“Already wearing it.”
Walking in the paddock with your son on your hip and your hand in Max’s turned a few heads for sure. It was the tack of the paddock, Max has a girlfriend and a son? There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that the boy you’re holding is anyones’s but Max, he’s a literal mini Max, with the small red bull merch and everything.
”Oh my god! Loca.” Lando said seeing you both, your son wiggles in your arms. He loves Lando who he sees a lot when you’re all in Monaco. Lando is one of the few people who knew about you for so long and he’s seen Karel mere days after he was born. “Come to uncle, Lala.” Karel leans out of your arms and easily goes to Lando’s. “I didn’t know you guys were bringing him today.”
“We weren’t 100% sure.” Max explains and you give him a look. “Okay, I wasn't 100% sure I’d want to bring him.”
”Well, I’m for one glad that you did.” Lando said entertaining your son.
”That makes the two of us.” You say smiling, as Max pulls you closer to his side.
After Max is sure you and Karel are comfortable at RedBull, he goes off to do his round of interviews and media duties. And it's just his luck that, he's on the panel today.
And it didn't take long before he was being questioned about his family.
“Question to Max, you seem happier today, does that possibly have something to do with your ring and those that came with you today?” Max chuckles, he looks at his wedding ring. On the panel today with him, Charles who knows about his family, Lewis who has no idea, Oscar who has no idea and Pierre who has a suspicion but hasn't been confirmed by Charles.
“Eh, if you're talking about this ring, yes. My son is here for the first time, he's finally old enough to come.” Max is smiling but just because his family came means he's suddenly open with the press and will spill everything.
“You have a son?” Lewis asked confused the gossip hadn't reached Mercedes yet.
“I'm not over the ring, you're married?” Pierre asked, Oscar was looking super confused at the RedBull driver, he heard Lando talking about Max and a child and wife but he thought it was the other Max not this Max.
“Karel's here?” Charles asked, smiling.
“Yeah, I have a son, he's almost 2 and I'm married.” Max said as if he didn't Just drop the biggest news in F1 at the moment.
“You knew about it?” Pierre asked his friend feeling left out, Charles looked cheapish and shrugged.
“It was a secret mate.”
After the panel the drivers waited for Max to ask him some more questions.
“When were you married?”
“Did you get married because of the kid?”
“What's his name?”
“Why did you hide them?”
”When can we see him?”
and so on and so forth, Max knew that this would cause quite a stir in the media but he had no idea the other drivers would be interested.
”Okay calm down everyone, let the man speak.” Lando, the latest person to join the circle said. He wrapped his arm around Max’s shoulder. ”Let me answer the oblivious stuff. His name’s Karel, he was born during the winter break of last year, he’s a carbon copy of Max, and yeah, I knew about everything for a few years.”
Lando looked so smug with himself for being in the know.
”And you’re married? Never saw you wearing a ring before.”
“Yeah, got married when we were 18-“
”EIGHTEEN!!” There was a gasps and repetition to the number 18.
”Mate, that’s over 8 years ago.” Pierre said with wide eyes, he’s been Max’s teammate and he was married and he had no idea.
”Yeah, we were dating for 3 years before that, and decided to just do it.” Max explains, he was itching to get back to the garage and see his family. But he had to stand there for a few more minutes to answer all their questions, which he was comfortable with anyways.
You could see a few of the drivers shaking their heads as they dispersed from the circle in disbelief. The gossip and new information was hot, it will be all they can talk about this weekend.
You were out of his driver’s room, and standing beside Max’s car talking with a mechanic as Karel was looking at his dad’s car in fascination. It’s the car he saw every week on the TV.
“Hey.” Max greeted coming in and giving you a quick kiss, he took Karel from your arms and kisses his cheek. “How’s everything?”
”Good, Karel wants to get in the car.” You inform your husband, smiling as your son nodded his head furiously.
”Dada, car.” Karel says cutely and points at his father’s car.
”You can sit baby, don’t think you’ll see anything but you can sit.” Max says and places his child into the cockpit, RedBull cameras snap pictures and take videos.
”Future RedBull champion in the making.” You tease Max and grin, Max had this adoration look on his face. “You should get in and put him on your legs so he can see.”
Max does as you say, he hands you Karel, who you shower with kisses making him giggle and push your face away. Max gets in and you hand him Karel who he places on his lap, the child now able to see out of the car.
”Here Max.” One of the mechanics hand him the steering wheel, and Max puts it in.
”Dada, drive.” Karel says and takes a hold of the steering wheel, Max helps him turn it right and left, it’s. too heavy for him to do it alone. You take out your phone and also film this moment.
If there was ever doubt about bringing Karel, just seeing them making memories and enjoying themselves proves that it’s the right thing to do. There’s no guarantee for how long Max will stay in F1, the motorsport is forever changing and you’ve always wanted Max to make these memories with your son. And if Karel continued showing interest in cars as he does now, there’s no doubt in your mind that you’ll be back at karting tracks soon enough, and replete the cycle that you went through with Max with your son.
Max looks at you and smiles, you couldn’t help but lean over and press your lips to his, in a sweet and short kiss.
”It’s good that I can kiss you whenever now.” You comment and wink at Max before you pull back.
“Lucky me.”
Maintaglist
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life
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Text
It's a Match! || 141 x reader
[ Chapter 7 ] || [ Chapter 9 ]
Pairing: Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: ghost is making a move.
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Chapter 8: Awooga?
Surprisingly, your one-night stand with John last night did wonders for you. You felt energized all day and made it a point to clean everything instead of moping about like you have tended to do since your break-up with Ethan.
There were days when you considered texting him, neck deep in feelings you couldn’t quite move past, trying your best to stay afloat. Four years by his side couldn’t be forgotten in the blink of an eye, even if neither of you wanted anything to do with the other and had each other blocked on every platform imaginable.
It’s 4 P.M. on Saturday and you’re laying about in your living room wearing lounge clothes, your legs spread over your coffee table, eyes lazily locked on the TV as you fiddle with your phone, twirling it in your hand.
Eventually, you find yourself getting bored… So you decide to open Tinder one last time. You got what you wanted out of it. John scratched that itch… There’s no need to keep it. But it’s still funny enough to judge the men on that app even if you’re no longer doing anything with them.
You start Left Swiping on every profile that comes onto your screen, silently judging each one and murmuring to yourself. You get about 15 profiles in before you find yourself bored of even that.
Sighing and getting peckish, you decide to order yourself something good for dinner from a delivery app. Then, while waiting for the notification that your driver is on his way, you return to Tinder.
You open the DM tab, finding dozens of new DMs from guys and skim through them, none of them catching your eye. If you were in the mood, you’d maybe engage in convo with one of them, maybe annoy them a little… But they all seem so… bland.
Then you find Simon’s chat lost in the influx. You click on it for a moment, smiling a bit as you spot his politeness and excess professionalism for someone that’s on a dating app looking to get laid.
Biting your lip, your fingers glide across the keyboard as you shoot him a quick message.
you: so… are you thinking of ever uploading a new pic of yourself?
The Read indicator popped up under your DM almos instantly, and the bubbles indicating Simon was typing soon followed.
Simon: Look who it is. Simon: Hello to you too. Simon: No, I don’t intend to do that. you: hi, sorry. x you: why not? Simon: I don’t take this app seriously enough to want to show off what I look like. you: was that a dig at me for having a whole gallery? Simon: No. Simon: Unless you want it to be. 😉 you: 😱😱 you: SIMON DID YOU JUST USE AN EMOJI? Simon: I regret doing it now. you: NOOOO pls don’t! you: it was fun!!!! Simon: Alright then. Simon: How are you feeling today?
You’re genuinely shocked by his question and you find yourself smiling a bit.
you: i’m okay hru? Simon: Just okay? I’m fine thanks. you: yeah! feeling lazy. Simon: You had me worried you weren’t feeling well after last night.
Your cheeks warm up so quickly that you even sputter and sit up on the couch with a start.
you: you know?? Simon: Of course I know. Simon: John’s my captain.  you: he told you??????? Simon: No. John’s old school. No kiss and tell. Simon: But we were all expecting he’d go home with you. Simon: Kind of an open secret. you: oh Simon: Does that bother you? you: i don’t think so? you: i guess i should’ve expected you would realize it Simon: I’m sorry. Simon: To be fair, I can tell you that you did a great job, he’s in a much better mood. you: that is not the praise you think it is 😭 Simon: I’m not used to giving praise, cut me some slack alright? you: right. i can see that. you: the whole - my team would say i push them - thing Simon: I stand by that. Simon: I’m not very good at talking. Simon: But I’m not a liar. you: i’ve noticed you: you tend to hate being called that. Simon: Lie enough on the job. Simon: When I’m talking to people outside of that, I like being as honest as I can be. you: i see you: sooo does that mean i can ask you things and you’ll be honest in the answers? Simon: About? you: you Simon: Within reason. you: what do you look like Simon: 6ft4, blonde, brown eyes. you: that’s it? Simon: I said ‘Within reason’. That means I won’t give you more than I think I should. you: infuriating 😤 Simon: That’s life.
Just as you’re about to answer, your doorbell rings. You were so absorbed in Simon’s chat that you didn’t notice your delivery driver arrived.
You slip on some shoes quickly and dash downstairs to the front door of the building to receive your food.
Once upstairs, you set your food on the table and unwrap everything, beginning to eat your Nando’s chicken as you try to resume texting Simon one-handed.
That’s when you spot the message he sent you while you were busy.
Simon: Added some new pics. Simon: Don’t say I never did anything for you. Simon: But I’ll take them down in 2 minutes so you better hurry up.
Eyebrows raised, you quickly click on his profile and rush to tap through to the new pictures.
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The first one makes you chuckle. Of course, it’s him wearing a hoodie and a stupid mask… But the second one? Your jaw drops open and you find yourself swallowing dryly.
“Awooga…” You quip to yourself and giggle, amused at your own silliness as your eyes trail over every inch of exposed skin in Simon’s chest. Even if that’s not him, even if that’s just some… bloke he found online, it’s still a bloody fine picture.
Returning to the chat, you type a quick reply.
you: not bad Simon: Answered your questions? you: raised a couple more. Simon: Good. Simon: You keep them in your mind for later. you: why does it feel like you’re leaving?? Simon: Because I am. Duty calls. Simon: I’ll tell John you said 'Hi'. you: okay... you: be careful!
As soon as you sent that message you found yourself facepalming. Why do you sound like a concerned partner? You don’t even know this man. Any of them really. Even if you had one of them inside of you less than 24 hours ago.
You don't dwell too much on it because soon there's a message from Simon on the screen.
Simon: Always am. Don’t miss us too much.
Shaking your head, you set down your phone, locking the screen, and turning back to your peri-peri chicken and chips, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months
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Irresistible {3} || CL16
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader Summary: What was once heaven turns to hell with the unexpected arrival of a new house guest. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, cheating, kind of taboo (future stepbrother) WC: 4K F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four
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It was late by the time Charles entered your room and slipped into the bed. You had retreated to your room after washing the dishes from dinner, silently passing each one to Charles to dry. When there was nothing left to tidy, he sighed and decided he couldn’t delay the call that was inevitable.
“Are you awake?” he asked quietly as he curled his body around yours.
“No.”
You felt his smile on your shoulder before he rolled you over to face him and brushed the hair back that fell over your face. “I think I made a mistake.”
It felt like a cruel joke but you had heard his raised voice through the walls, but the French had meant nothing to you. You were certain that after one argument he was cutting things off but you asked anyway, “Why’s that?”
“Because I don’t want to be in a relationship with her.” He pressed his forehead to yours and the breath you had been holding was released with a relieved sigh. “And she wants to come to the first races too now.”
You pulled back to see the pained look in his eyes and realised you had relaxed prematurely. “I thought you said she wouldn’t go to many.”
“She usually wouldn’t, but with the new race schedule it falls right into her school summer break.”
You huffed at the idea of having to share him and watch as she got to publicly flaunt him. Okay, maybe you were a little jealous - but it didn’t change anything because he could never be yours. “Does she suspect anything between us?”
“I am living with a beautiful woman that I am not related to, of course she is suspicious,” he stated with a nonchalant shrug. “But she won’t outright ask or she would have to give up on the idea that we are perfect for each other.”
Your fingers traced the shape of his beard that was due to be shaved again and your shoulders bounced with a quiet laugh. “Look at you, you have it all figured out.”
For a second his amusement faded away and vulnerability set in as he looked at your laced fingers resting on his chest. “You haven’t changed your mind about coming with me, have you?” His words were whispered like he was afraid of the answer.
“I don’t think I could if I wanted to,” you admitted seriously, before a teasing smirk lightened the atmosphere. “I think I would miss you too much, or a certain part of you.”
“Ah, of course,” he chuckled, grateful for the answer and a distraction, “you only want me for my dick.”
You ran your hand down his bare chest until it met the fabric of the grey sweatpants he wore and teased over his crotch. “I was thinking about your tongue but I would miss this too.”
“I feel used, really, I do,” he huffed but his cock began to stir beneath your palm despite the joking words. “I am just an object to you.”
“Yes, you are, but you are a pretty one,” you added with the sultry smile that always set his blood alight. “So are you going to let me use you?”
He grinned as he easily pulled you over his body to straddle his waist. “Always, ma biche.”
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Lockdown: Week Sixteen
“Hey Daveed, sorry about the stairs,” you apologised as you ordered yet another heavy item online knowing there wasn’t an elevator in the building.
It was an odd world that you found yourself in. You knew the delivery driver by name now, but you still hadn’t seen the bottom half of his face beneath the mask.
“What have you brought now?” Charles asked from the couch as he sent a wave to Daveed.
“I’ll show you if you help me move it.”
Curious, he got up and gently moved you aside so he could pick it up himself, his biceps testing the tensile strength of his shirt sleeves. “Where am I putting it?”
You rushed around the couch and moved the coffee table that was covered with your puzzle magazines before pointing to the space made. “I’ll get the scissors.”
Charles watched his floor space change from hardwood boards to the fluffiest shag pile rug he had ever seen. Everywhere he looked there was evidence of a woman in his home and he had to admit he loved walking into each room and seeing it.
You starfished on the rug after unrolling it and sighed happily at how soft and fluffy it was beneath you. “Lay with me,” you ordered Charles when you opened your eyes to find you smiling down at you.
Dropping down beside you, he stared up at the ceiling and stretched out, sliding his arm under your head. He ran his fingers through the soft material before those same fingers ran down your sleeve and pulled you closer to kiss your temple. “It’s perfect.”
The doorbell buzzed and you both looked at each other wondering who it could be. There wasn’t anything else that had been ordered and it wasn’t as if anyone could just pop around for a visit with the lockdown still under enforcement. You were still frowning at each other when the bell rang again, followed by a shrill call that made Charles stiffen.
“It’s Charlotte.”
You sat up in an instant and all but ran down the hall to your room, quickly snatching Charles’ pillow and tossing it into his room with the other random pieces of clothes that littered your floor. The security chain scraped open before the deadlock was unbolted and you scanned his room to see if there was anything of yours there but luckily most activity had been kept to your space. You hadn’t wanted to sleep in the bed he shared with her, that was about your limit in your morally grey code of ethics.
“Uh, hey, what are you doing here?” Charles asked as he opened the door, his shoulders blocking your view from the hall.
“I thought you would be happier to see me after four months,” Charlotte murmured as she walked around him and into the apartment. She was perceptive of all the changes and was obviously not impressed by them as she set her suitcase down. “My travel exemption came through today.”
Charles frowned at the large luggage bag but recovered enough to kiss her when she leant in. Your exemption had been emailed to him a few days ago so everything was set to go to Austria in two weeks time but that didn’t help him understand why his girlfriend had arrived at his place with the bag. “Are you going somewhere?”
“I figured since I was allowed to travel I would stay here, with you, until we fly out. I can finish my assignment here and we can catch up on lost time.”
Your stomach knotted at the thought but she had put Charles in a position that made an argument almost impossible.
“I would love that, but isn't it a little insensitive to Y/N? I don’t want her feeling like a third wheel in her own home.”
“This isn’t her home.” Charlotte rolled her eyes and you took a step back behind the wall as she looked around for you. “You said she’s just a guest you can’t get rid of because your mum asked nicely.”
You swallowed down the angry words that clawed at your throat and had to watch as Charles wrapped her in his arms, to comfort her.
Your silent steps retreated back to your room and you closed the door before you could hear anything more. Collapsing on your bed feeling displaced, you could smell Charles’ cologne clinging to the sheets and resorted to stripping the bedding off. Not willing to risk being caught in any small talk, you mounded the pile of sheets and duvet covers in the corner of your room and pulled a pair of noise cancelling headphones over your ears.
You drifted in and out of sleep all afternoon, waking once to decline dinner, telling Charles that you weren’t hungry through the locked door, despite the loud growls coming from your stomach. When you woke again night had set in and it was dark outside your window. The growls had turned to cramps and you couldn’t ignore the need for food any longer.
Thankfully the apartment was silent when you emerged from your room and crept down the hall. You could walk the whole house blindfolded if you needed, you knew because it had been a game you played with Charles a few times out of boredom, but you turned a small lamp on in the living room. The soft glow was enough to see in the kitchen and you found a note on the fridge door.
You smiled at the thought of Charles saving a plate for you and grabbed it from inside the fridge. It smelt delicious as you warmed it up in the microwave but one mouthful had to dumping it in the bin. Though your back was to the hall you could feel his presence like the kiss of the sun on your skin and you placed the empty plate in the sink to wash it.
“You should be asleep.”
His steps were quiet across the floor before his hands found your waist and his lips brushed over your nape before he whispered, “Can’t sleep without you.”
You turned away from the sink to face him but whatever command you were thinking of to send him back to his girlfriend was lost when he kissed you. You could taste the apology on his tongue, feel the regret in his touch as his hand slipped beneath your shirt and danced along your spine.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was going to show up here.”
His forehead rested against yours and his eyes closed when he felt your hands come to rest on his neck, your fingers feeling his pulse race beneath them. The silence was heavy as he waited for you to say something but you weren’t going to dwell on what you couldn’t change.
“You should be apologising for the pasta, I nearly broke a tooth.”
Charles stepped back with a quiet laugh and combed his fingers through his hair. “You know I am not good at cooking.”
“That wasn’t cooking, it was uncooked,” you corrected him with a smile. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded, having missed your cooking and took a seat on the bench where he could watch you quickly bring a delicious meal together. He never understood how you could do that, how you could look at what was in the fridge and the pantry and create a dish in your head. When he looked all he saw were the individual ingredients but you saw the potential each piece had, it amazed him every time.
The minutes quickly passed and it was effortless to chat with whispered voices while you worked, a complete dichotomy from how his evening with Charlotte went. Conversation with her had felt forced, like he was talking to a stranger, and he had asked how the weather was twice just to fill the awkward silence.
He barely even heard your words, recounting a humorous camping trip with your father where he forgot nearly all of the food. But you had managed to survive for three days inventing new ways to eat sausages. You paused when Charles didn’t laugh at something he should have found funny but he was staring at your lips in a daze.
“Are you okay?” you asked with a wave in front of his face.
He snapped out of whatever trance he was in and you thought maybe he had been falling asleep standing up. You nearly jumped when he suddenly pulled you into his arms and buried his face in your neck. “I love you.” You could feel his smile on your skin before he kissed the column of your neck, whispering it over and over as he made his way to your lips. “I love you.”
Your palms met his chest and gently pushed him back as you wriggled from his hold.
“What?” he asked, suddenly nervous and self conscious.
“You’re just having this revelation now? At,” you checked the time on the oven, “1:11 in the morning while your girlfriend is asleep in your bed.”
“I mean, I’ve kind of known it since the day we met…” He scratched the back of his neck and shrugged apologetically. “I think I loved you the moment you called me a bad driver.”
You balled up your fist and punched him in the shoulder. “You could have told me sooner.”
His forehead crumpled in confusion as he rubbed his arm. “What? Why?”
Stepping back into his personal space, you rose on your toes so you could kiss the corner of his downturned lips. “Because I love you too.”
His smile could have lit up the whole city and it made the unexpected arrival of Charlotte a little easier to bear. It was almost romantic eating dinner with a single candle burning on the table, if it wasn’t for the knowledge that there was an unwanted house guest in the next room. You probably should have eaten in silence to make sure it went undisturbed, there was always more you wanted to know about each other. Sixteen weeks together brought a lot of insight into the other’s psyche but there was still over 20 years of history to learn.
“Did Peter teach you to cook?”
Your laugh was a little too loud in the dead of the night and you shook your head. “He can only cook a steak, and you don’t get a say in how you want it either - it’s always extra well done.” You took a sip of the wine Charles had poured and giggled at the thought of your father teaching you to cook. “There was this old woman who did the payroll at dad’s work and after mum left Betty helped step in for all the ‘girly’ stuff. Make-up, cooking, boys.”
The corner of Charles’ lips kicked up in a smirk as he sat back in his chair and sighed happily with a full stomach and contentment he had missed all evening. “I imagine you were already a natural when it came to boys.”
You mirrored his amusement and leaned your head on his shoulder when he draped his arm over the back of your chair. “Of course, one insult and I had them wrapped around my finger,” you joked.
“Worked with me.”
“But you’re weird.”
Footsteps padded down the hall and you sat up before Charlotte arrived wearing a shirt of Charles’. She froze as she found the cosy scene and the sleepy haze lifted from her face. “What is this?”
You smiled and reached for the bottle of wine to refill your glass. “I was hungry, sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Would you like to join us?”
She looked at the clock and you were surprised to see it was almost 3am. Time always seemed to slip by unnoticed when you were with Charles, he was captivating that way.
“No, thank you,” she politely declined as she held a hand out to Charles. “We are going back to bed.”
Charles let her lead him from the room but he looked over his shoulder with a pout and mouthed ‘I love you’ before saying aloud, “sweet dreams.”
You smiled as you mouthed the words back and promised, “I will.”
That was the last stolen moment alone. Charlotte seemed to sleep lighter and followed Charles everywhere he went in the apartment. He couldn’t even stream alone in his office, her ever present shadow was there in the background to gate keep him from you. At night, their arguments would keep you awake and your French understanding grew to know nearly every swear word they used. 
You could see the misery in the dark bags beneath Charles' eyes each morning at breakfast. Though he no longer sat beside you, there was one perk to facing him with the table Charlotte used as a barrier between you. Warmth ran up your leg and you fought not to react to Charles’ touch, it wasn’t much but it was his quiet reassurance that everything would be okay.
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Lockdown: Week Seventeen
You woke to a screech and rolled over to bury your head under your pillow. Unfortunately you weren’t able to block out her voice as it grew louder to the point she was yelling. Tossing your blankets back, you draped a robe around your shoulders and swept out of the room with a mission to find out why your sleep had been disturbed.
“Charles, can you please remind her what an inside voice is?” you asked quietly as you took a seat with him at his piano, watching the angry young woman pace around the living room.
“You live like a pig!” Charlotte growled as she picked up his dirty plate left on the coffee table. “And how hard is it to put the toilet seat down?”
You cast a side eye at Charles to see him struggling to hold a smirk in check. He was clearly enjoying himself but you were confused since he had always put the toilet seat down before, and cleaned up after himself.
“Why are there so many cushions in this place?” Her rant continued as she picked up the floral pieces you had scattered across the couch to bring colour to the room.
“I like cushions,” you answered her rhetorical question, drawing her attention to your presence.
“I know exactly what you like,” she sneered as her eyes darted to Charles before she stormed out of the room, dropping the plate in the kitchen sink as she passed.
“Where are you going?” Charles asked as he made to follow, sending a kiss your way.
“Home!”
You dropped onto the couch, enjoying the way your body sunk into the soft cushions, and listened to the rant continue while Charlotte packed her suitcase. You had to bite one pillow when Charles made a weak attempt to change her mind but then she was wheeling her luggage out the door.
Unfortunately her departing words left you little hope as she promised, “I’ll meet you at the airport.”
The door closed behind her and Charles leaned his back against it with a sigh. You cocked a brow at him before he slid the deadbolt home and all but jumped over the back of the couch, pinning you under his body.
“Finally, I have you all to myself,” he hummed happily against your lips but you tugged his hair back so he could see the confusion on your face. “What? I missed you.”
“You planned all that?”
He shrugged and dipped his head to capture your lips that left you needing more of his kisses and less of his clothes. “I was hoping she was going to break up with me, but I’ll keep working on that. PR can’t be mad at me if it’s her choice.”
You combed your fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands that were in need of a trim again. “But what happens next? They’ll just set you up with another woman that fits their image for you.”
He shook his head adamantly and pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m done with that. I’ll tell them I need to focus on my career or something to get them off my back. There’s only one woman I want, Bambi.”
You tried not to let his promise affect you but the butterflies in your stomach turned to a burn across your cheeks and you buried your face in his neck. His deep laugh reverberated from his chest as he kissed your temple and started to climb off you.
“Hey, where do you think you are going?” you asked as his weight was lifted from you.
“I was going to bed,” he said with a smirk as he started to walk towards the hall. “Coming, ma biche?”
The cushions went flying as you scrambled to your feet and raced after him. It felt as if the universe had righted itself when you closed your door behind you and found Charles stretched across your bed. For a moment you just leaned back and enjoyed the view that you had missed, but only for a moment - you had better ideas on how to spend your time. 
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” you pointed out.
“Why don’t you come and change that?” he challenged with a smirk. Making himself comfortable, he tucked his hands behind his head but the movement tugged the bottom of his shirt up to tease you with the deep V lines you wanted to run your tongue along.
“With pleasure.” You untied your robe and let the material fall to the floor before you stalked him down and reached for his sweatpants. You dragged the soft cloth down and he lifted his hips to make it easier, not that it would have stopped you.
You dipped your head down, grazing your teeth over his hip bone and goosebumps prickled across his skin. His breath caught in his chest as the tingling feeling spread over his body and he chuckled at the sight of it. It was a reaction he had never had with anyone else, there was no one else who could possibly elicit such a feeling with just one touch. 
“Fuck,” he shuddered breathlessly when you lashed your tongue along one V line. He could feel your breath warm on his cock before it cooled as you climbed higher and he groaned at the smirk on your lips. You were playing with him. 
“Be patient,” you warned as you grabbed his shirt and tugged it up his chest. 
“It’s been 9 days, Bambi,” he gasped when you nipped his nipple before easing the sharp pain with your tongue.
“Exactly.” You peeked up his body from under your lashes and enjoyed the strained look on his face, his brows pinched together and his hands in fists behind his head. He was struggling not to take control and bury himself in you. “I have to make up for lost time.”
You pushed him to his limit as you nipped and sucked your way across his body from his neck to his thighs. “Please, ma biche,” he finally whined as his hard cock pulsed with the need to feel your wet warmth. 
“Since you asked so nicely…” You sealed your lips around the swollen tip and hummed in delight at the taste of him. There wasn’t a word that could describe it but it was an aphrodisiac of the highest strength. Need grew to a throb between your legs and your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched your thighs together. 
A deep groan had your eyes opening and you found a wild look in Charles’ before he reached for your arms. You let him guide you up his body thinking he was going to spear you down on his cock but he shuffled down the bed and positioned you over his face. “My turn, mon amour.” 
Your fingers clutched at the headboard as his tongue expertly found all the spots that made you see stars. Like you, he hadn’t forgotten how to drive you wild in the long days since Charlotte’s arrival. 
“Please, Charles,” you begged as he teased around your clit, keeping you dancing on the precipice of oblivion. He teased and he teased until a growl of frustration tore from you lips and you combed your fingers into his hair so you could grind your hips over his face, taking what you needed from him. 
Satisfied and smiling, you were flipped onto your back and Charles chuckled as he kissed his way up your body. “That was rude.”
“You love it,” you fired back with an equally daring smirk that fell away when your lips parted with a soft gasp as he thrust his hips forward and buried himself inside you.
“Fuck, I do,” he agreed with a moan. His breath heated your neck as he kissed your racing pulse, caressing your skin with his lips until he reached yours. “I love you.”
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fangirl-dot-com · 6 months
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Reader Lore - Born to Break Records
So this is a little filler for between now and the next chapter. This chapter might have triggers for death, abusive parents, and brief mentions of bullying. If these make you uncomfortable, then please feel free to skip this chapter. The synopsis is the reader’s life up until her first race win in F2. 
Welcome to Reader-Lore
2003
The cry of a baby filled the sterile walls of the delivery room. Pants filled in the quiet moments, but were mostly covered. The wailing baby was placed into the arms of the waiting mother, the father looking down on the two. 
“It’s a girl,” the nurse told them, writing something down in a book. 
The atmosphere suddenly changed. The once hopeful air was dampened with disappointment. The father sighed loudly, turning his head to look out the window. The mother, who had held her baby tight, loosened her grip. Her nose was now scrunched in borderline disgust. 
The nurse, feeling the off energy, offered to take the baby girl. She made some excuse about needing to weigh her and make sure that she was healthy, things that could have waited until after the parents bonded. 
The mother was quick to hand her over, waiving her hand as though it wasn’t a big deal. The father had now moved farther away from the hospital bed. 
The baby had started to wail once more after being taken from the arms of her mother. Arms that she thought were safe. Arms connected to the body that had cared for her for 9 months. Arms that suddenly did not hold her tight. Arms that willingly gave her away to some stranger. 
Once the nurse and frightened infant left the from, the mother and father looked at each other. 
“I wanted a boy,” the male murmured.
The female rolled her eyes, “I know. And so did I. But we don’t have a choice anymore.” 
“We do. Could always leave her here. A boy would be able to break records. A girl is useless.” 
“And be arrested? No thank you.” The mother rolled on her side, arms around her front. The father just huffed. 
“Everything we talked about, our future, is now a wasted memory.” 
The mother looked at the door with a sliver of hope, although, it was too small for anyone to see it. “Maybe she can do everything that you wanted a boy to do.” 
“We can just have another baby,” the father persisted. 
“You heard the doctor. It would be too dangerous for me to have another. What’s done is done. You can walk out now if you can’t commit.” The woman went to say something else, but was interrupted by whimpers. 
The nurse had walked back in, now with a swaddled baby. Begrudgingly, the mother held her hands out to take the bundle of blankets. She looked down at the brand new baby, but her heart didn’t swell with pride like she read about. Her heart filled with distain, as if the baby were a Christmas present that she didn't want. But this time, she couldn’t return the baby like she’d return a gift at whatever store it was bought from. 
The father had taken a few steps closer to the bed, but kept his distance. There wasn’t a bone in his body that actually wanted the child. 
“We still need a name for her,” the nurse stated, clicking her pen. 
The mother glanced to the father before saying, “Y/n. Her name is Y/n.” 
2008 – Five years old 
The air was stuffy, filled with the scent of petrol and burnt rubber. The quiet that could have been was broken by the rattles of engines and throttles. You wished for silence. 
You wanted nothing to do with this. But, you’d rather get in a kart then flinch at your father’s hand. You had been allowed to wander around the track. The big boys were driving now. And by big boys, you meant 11- and 10-year-olds. They were bigger than you and drove karts that were so much faster than the little one that you had. 
You looked around. There was definitely not a shortage of girls hanging around, but none were dressed like you. Most were the older or younger sisters of the drivers. Their pink tops, paired with shorts or skirts, flowed in the wind. None of them were wearing an old itchy race suit that was two sized too big. They were allowed to wear sandals, while you had to endure the tight racing shoes that your dad had definitely yanked on the laces too much. It wasn’t your fault that you hadn’t learn to tie them yet. 
You watched their hair bounce in the tall pony tails tied on the tops of their heads. They didn’t need their hair to be wrapped in a bun at the base of their necks so that it could fit into a helmet. 
You wished that your mom and dad would allow you to cut it off so that you could be the boy that they wanted. You knew that they didn’t want you, your little mind was able to catch on to things like that. 
You understood patterns. Patterns on the track helped you know what areas to avoid. Patters on the kart taught you where to put your feet and hands. Patterns told you that moms and dads should be happy for their children, and not yell at them. Patters revealed that children did not flinch when their parents patted their heads or caressed their cheeks. 
The wind blew loud as the kart race came to a close. You knew that you needed to get back quickly to where you parents were waiting, but you wanted to see the winners, wanted to see them taste a victory that you were so desperate for. 
You squeezed past the other boys and looked up at the three on the podium. The one on the lowest step wasn’t rememberable. His hair looked the same as others. His height wasn’t tall or small, just in the middle. 
But the boys on the other two steps were. The one on the second pedestal had a shaggy hair cut, with bangs that pointed down. You had seen him before, surrounded by his family. A little brother, a big brother, mom and dad, and then a man who looked at the boy with stars in his eyes. 
You wished someone looked at you like that. 
“And in second place, Charles Leclerc.” So that was his name. Sharl. His eyes were bright green and filled with light and hope. But a sadness still glazed them as he looked up at the boy on the top step. 
The boy who towered over the crowd had blond sandy hair. For a winner, he didn’t look happy. His blue eyes didn’t hold the same brightness that the green eyes had. 
“And our winner, Max Verstappen!” 
That was a nice name. Max. You wanted to look at the boy winner for a few more moments. Engrave his image into your mind. Because, you didn’t know when the next time you’d be able to do this. Your dad would probably ban you from such things, saying something like you didn’t need to look at something you’d never achieve.
But you were hungry. 
You were taken out of your watching by the announcement that your own race was going to start soon. And you weren’t in your kart. 
You rushed through the crowd, trying to put on your bright pink helmet on. You could put your gloves on while you got into your kart. 
By the time you got there, your dad was already looking at you with a disappointed look. Your mother was nowhere to be found. 
“Where have you been,” he hissed, hitting your helmet. 
“I wanted to see the podiums,” you muttered, getting your gloves on. 
Your dad shook his head. “What have I told you about that?” 
“That I shouldn’t look at things that I can’t get.” 
“Exactly. Now get in your kart.” 
You did as he said. You heart was pounding as you taxied the little thing onto the smaller track. You were able to be seen by everyone, your helmet acting as a little flag. It seemed to say “look at me! I’m the only girl trying to be on par with all these boys! Watch me fail!” 
But you were determined to prove them all wrong. 
By the last lap, you were right behind one more kart. One more pass and you could win. Prove your dad wrong. Prove everyone wrong. 
You watched as he broke your pattern. The pattern that would help you win. 
He made a mistake, and you welcomed it with glee. 
You passed over the finish line with a significant gap behind you and that boy. At the stopping point, you parked your kart and stepped out, exhaling sharply. 
You thought that people would cheer and shout, but the silence that you had wished for earlier had come to haunt you. 
You won and there was nothing to celebrate. 
2015 – Twelve years old 
Everyone thought he was crazy. There was no way that he was going to sponsor a 12 year old in karting, a female none the less. 
He wasn’t crazy. How could he not want to sponsor you, a consecutive race winner in your league. He constantly watched you drive circles around the boys who would berate you in their free time. He watched as you would let their words roll right off your back. You didn’t let their words get to you.
But, he was your godfather and he had a sense of responsibility for you. He watched as you climbed out of the kart, looking around trying to find a familiar face. 
He could see your eyebrows raise through the visor when you caught sight of him. 
“LoLo!” you yelled, quickly sprinting over to him. He was ready to catch you, but not expecting the hit with your helmet. 
He let out an oof as you knocked him slightly off balance. 
“Hey kid! You did good!” He rubbed your helmet as if it were hair. You quickly unbuckled the pink contraption and took it off, hair sticking to your forehead. 
You looked around before your shoulders slumped. You kicked a rock as you spoke, “They didn’t come.” 
Lorenzo had noticed a lack of your parents as soon as he arrived. He would have come earlier to help you with your kart if he had known that they weren’t here. He looked down at you with sad eyes, and that’s the last thing you wanted. 
You always wished for someone to look at you with so much love and affection that it poured out of their soul. But you only ever got looks of hatred and pity. 
He rubbed your shoulder, “It’s ok kid. But you wanna know something?” He crouched down to your level, pant legs getting damp with moisture. You nodded your head. “LoLo gets to sponsor you!” 
You gasped, eyes tearing. Even though you were twelve, you knew the weight of the situation. Your parents had told you that because you were winning, you were embarrassing them. And because you were embarrassing them, they wouldn’t pay any more years of karting after this one. You wailed when you told Lorenzo the next time you saw him. And he saw your heart break into itty bitty pieces while you did. 
When you left, he looked into every possibly way that he could keep you in karting. The only option was to sponsor you.
And sponsor you he did. He emailed, texted, and called multiple companies, trying to get their support. He would get sponsorship to put on your kart so that you could carry the logos proudly. He had your new one sitting in the back of his old truck, but that was a surprise. It was blue with two proud bulls on the very front. He had done it. He found you a sponsor that would keep you going for a couple of years. 
His thoughts were interrupted by you actually knocking him over. He knew his sweater was getting damp, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to see you smile for the rest of his life. 
You were too busy whispering thank you after thank you for you to notice the weird looks that you were getting. Looks from the boys that you had just beaten. Looks from the parents who didn’t know the worries of paying for karting. 
He quickly picked you up and took you back over to get your cart. He helped you load it on the mover and rolled it over to his truck. You wouldn’t be needing this kart that was almost falling apart. You had a new one, and you’d be all right. 
You talked the whole way home, animatedly moving your hands around as you described your latest win. Your hands rolled over the other as you showed him how you turned the wheel, barely clipping the front of the kart who wanted to push you off. 
Lorenzo only looked at you with pure adoration. A look that you wanted so much, but were too busy to see due to your explanations of your imaginations. 
Maybe he was crazy, but he didn’t think so. 
2019 – Sixteen years old (F3)
Your eyes were pricked with tears as you read the letter you received in the mail. The big letters of DISOWNMENT flashed in the reflections. They had done it weeks ago, according to the date on the top of the paper. By now, your things were probably thrown away or burned.   
You had just finished the F4 category and were making a name for yourself in F3. You couldn’t deal with this now. One of the management people came and knocked on your door, telling you that the race was about to start. 
You crumpled the paper up and threw it in the trash. If they didn’t need you, you didn’t need them. That was the lie you continually told yourself. Of course a girl needed her parents. They were the people who were supposed to nurture you and help you. 
But they never did that in the first place. At least you didn’t have to constantly buy drug store foundation and concealer and try to explain the black and blue around your eyes after it melted off during the race. No more flinching. No more hiding. 
Just no more. 
You would call Lorenzo and see if you could stay with him for a bit during the break. You would have to or you wouldn’t have a place to sleep. 
Your breath shuddered at the thought. 
You told yourself that you knew this was coming. They had cut all contact with you months ago and weren’t spotted when you went home during the last break. 
You allowed the tears to fall as you got your helmet on. No one would see the streams as you placed your visor down. You were now hidden away from the weird looks that everyone sent you. No girl had ever made it this far. 
Sure as you grew, there were girls in karting. That number seemed to increase in F4. Most of them were from the driver academies. You were still able to participate due to multiple sponsorships that Lorenzo had gotten you. 
But with increase, there has to be a decrease. You were currently the only female in F3 and were set to be the only female to make it to F2. Well, that’s what everyone told you. Your stats reflected your need to prove yourself. 
Race win after race win helped thrust you through the blockades built by men. They wouldn’t stop you, and you didn’t want to stop. Not now, not ever. 
Each race win fueled your hunger in this world. And it only grew and grew. 
Your tears were brushed away by the wind brushing through your car. At that moment, you told yourself that you wouldn’t cry over your parents ever again. They didn’t deserve them. 
You could cry about other things. Such as passing over the finish line, marking your first win in F3. 
You constantly showed the world that you could do it. You wanted to cry again as you listened to your anthem. You wanted to cry when the boys celebrated with each other, leaving you out. You wanted to cry as you walked back to your “motor home,” knowing that it was put up quickly for you. 
The time you finally let yourself cry was when you were talking with Lorenzo on the phone. Your eyes were tired and dehydrated by the time you quit. Lorenzo was able to calm you down. He told you that he would take care of everything, take care of you. 
You knew you wouldn’t be able to see him much though. The F3 calendar was far busier than the F4 one had. And you knew the moment you entered F2, time for relaxation would be far and few between. 
But you had Lorenzo to fall back on when the times got hard. You could always count on him. 
2020 – Seventeen years old (F2)
It was too soon. Too too soon. It wasn’t fair either. Your tears had not stopped streaming down your face since you arrived. The sterile smell itched your nose, but you needed to be here. For him. 
He had gotten paler in the few moments since you had been there. His breath rattled with each inhale and exhale. And each breath brought more tears. You didn’t want to let him go. 
“Please LoLo. I can’t do this without you,” you whispered, knowing that he probably would not hear you. The doctors told you that he was far too gone for that, but you liked to believe that he was still listening. “You can’t leave me like everyone has. I can’t be alone. I need you.” You put your face down in the blankets, squeezing his hand. 
The nurses stood in the door, with tears of their own. They were watching a child lose the only family that she had left. 
You inhaled sharply, wiping your tears away.
“You know I’m going to do it. For you. It’s only ever been you. You’ve been my best friend and I don’t know how I’m going to get through this scary world without you.” You hiccupped. “But, I know that you need to go. And I’m being selfish for keeping you here.” 
You stood and kissed his forehead. 
“Thank you LoLo, for everything. I love you.” 
His chest rose, fell, rose, and fell. 
But didn’t rise again. The multiple beeps from the different machines let you know that he was gone. And he wasn’t coming back. 
One of the nurses came and rubbed your back as you sobbed, not caring who heard you. Your tears did not stop. 
They didn’t stop on the plane to Bahrain. They refused to dry up during the practices as you set record times. They let up as you gave post-practice interviews, saving you from being embarrassed. 
You cried as you put your helmet on. Stickers had been placed on it the night before with Lorenzo’s name and dates of birth and death to commemorate his legacy that would continue through you. 
You knew this race was important. You heard that multiple F1 drivers were there to watch. And you’d give them a spectacle, before hiding away to burry your dead godfather. You hoped that the blond kid with blue eyes that had grown up by now was there. He didn’t need to know that you looked up to him. You just hoped that he’d be there. And possibly the green eyed Justin Bieber look-a-like as well, you had followed him too. 
You had managed to score a P5 starting on the grid and you knew it would be tough to fight for the front. But you had a feeling that you’d be just fine. 
And just fine you were. 
You all hauled your F2 car over that finish line, finishing with a gap of 10 seconds. Your crew was screaming in your ear through the radio and congratulations were being thrown everywhere. You pulled into the number 1 spot and climbed onto the nose. You put your finger on the big numbers on the nose of your car, kissed the finger that touched it, and raised it, pointing at the sky. You had changed your driver number to the permanent 89 this season, and for the rest of your career. 
One time, Lorenzo had showed you pictures of when he used to kart. The big 89 was visible through the old photographs. He had trophies upon trophies, but was never picked up by anyone. You told him that if he had raced these days, he’d be able to skip everything and would be put into an F1 car immediately. He had just laughed and told you to do it for him. 
So that’s what you were doing. After you commemoration, you scrambled down the car and jumped into the crews waiting arms. These days, you did not flinch when they hit your helmet. You knew that these were celebrations for racers and you were thankful to partake. Two boys followed you up and went before you. You didn’t remember their names, only the Australian accent and the odd American accent. But they would remember your name. 
You carried your flag high as you walked onto the stage. The anthem sounded much sweeter this time around. The trophy felt a little heavier this time though. You looked up to see those blue eyes that you saw many years ago. Max said a quick congratulations before you raised it as though to almost offer it to the open sky. This time, you let the tears go. You quicky wiped them away and picked up the giant bottle of champagne. You hauled it over your shoulder and sprayed the others, absolutely drenching them. 
This time, they did it to you as well.  
You knew you made it. 
I’ll do it for you, LoLo. 
December 2024 – Twenty-one years old 
Christian Horner sat in the folding chair, as he did year after year. A camera was right in front of him, with an interviewer to the side. 
“Please state your name for the camera.” He rolled his eyes. 
“My name is Christian Horner, and I am the Team Principal of the Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 Team.” 
“Let’s talk about your driver, Y/n L/n.” 
The screen cuts to the pace of your car, passing multiple others in one clean sweep. 
“She’s one of the best talents I’ve seen in a while.” 
A scene of you holding a trophy, high in the sky. 
“What is one thing that you admire about your driver. She has said a lot about you.” Christian smiled. Of course you had. You told him that you saw him as the dad you never had. 
“Almost everything she touches, she turns it to gold.” 
The scene changes to your first win. The crowds of red cheered your name. Something you didn’t think was possible. You had taken that win from their favorites and you were being praised for it. Slow-motion splashes of champagne hit you from either side as you wiped your face. 
The scene returns, but Max is in Christian’s spot. 
“She’s different. She’s the epitome of what a rookie should be. I’m just thankful that she’s my teammate and not working against me.” 
The screen fades to two Red Bull cars with an Aston Martin in between them. 
“Y/n, Max is currently behind the Aston. Gap to you is 1.237 seconds,” Mitch’s voice is heard off screen through the radio. 
“Tell Maxie that it’s time to do the old switcharoo!” 
Your car suddenly slowed down just enough on the turn, and the crowd cheered as Max’s car went wide, putting him before you. You quickly got in his slip stream and the two of you sped off, leaving the green car in the dust. 
Another driver, with green eyes, is now in the seat, answering the same question. 
Charles looked up in thought while blowing some air out his lips. “She’s fearless. You normally don’t see that anywhere. Sure, everyone gets scared if they have an impact, especially as big as the one she had, but not her.” 
The camera cuts to the violent scene of your first DNF. Your car flipped, you were trapped. People’s faces were adorned with tears including Christian, no one had been able to contact you. Yet, the focus is now on you, wiggling out from beneath the wreckage. You, in spite of it all, raised your fist as though you were celebrating a first win. 
The scene cuts to an Australian with a straight smile. He looks semi-uncomfortable in the seat.  
“It looked like you and L/n had a tussle in the beginning. Is that true?” 
Oscar shook his head. “There was never a tussle. We both made mistakes, but that’s racing. Wheels touch all the time: it doesn’t mean that we have the urge to take each other out.” 
The interviewer continued, “But she did take you out.” 
The screen fades to a clip of two cars dangerously close together, one orange and one navy. 
David Croft’s voice could be heard, “And there goes the Red Bull of Y/n L/n and the McLaren of Oscar Piastri! They are close together around that corner and they aren’t backing down. Are they going to make contact! And they do! Off the track they go, debris is everywhere. And I don’t think they are going to be able to continue.” 
You knew that you should not have “never backed down never what-ed.” But Oscar was going for it and so were you. And you felt terrible. You quickly used the halo to climb out. Looking over, Oscar was doing the same thing. 
The camera followed you as you made your way through the swarming stewards. You just knew that you needed to check on the Aussie. 
The crowds could hear David speak again, “Oh no. Looks like L/n is mad. Does Red Bull have a thing for drivers with anger issues?” 
Oscar looked up and saw you storming towards him, batting away the stewards hands. He stiffened, ready for anything. But what he didn’t expect was a giant hug. He could feel you shaking and he quickly put his hands around you. 
“I’m ok.”  
The screen flashes back to Oscar. 
He huffed, “She did. But the moment she got out of the car, she came to check on me. She batted away the stewards who were desperate to make sure that she was fine, since she took the brunt of the hit. If that doesn’t convince you that Y/n is a great friend and better driver, then I don’t know what will.” The Aussie looked livid. 
The scene cuts to now a new face, your manager. 
The interviewer asks, “What is something that people might not know about Y/n.” Vito put his hand to his chin. You had already given him the permission to talk about what might be discussed. 
He inhaled, “She’s strong. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.” 
“Can you give us an example?” 
“The kid was disowned in 2019, right before her F3 debut. And you know what she did? She put that F3 car in the P1 spot. She never showed it though. She held her head high, and was squeezing into her place, that was waiting for her, in this sport.” 
A quick flash of 16 year old you, holding your first F3 trophy, was shown on screen. 
Vito kept talking as the scene changed to you walking around your motor home, greeting everyone who was there. They knew what had happened, and comforted you with words and hugs. You were thankful for them. 
“She also lost her godfather Lorenzo in January 2020. It was heartbreaking to hear her over the phone. Her debut in F2 was the next day. I told her that she didn’t have to, but she insisted that she needed to race, to win.” 
The camera followed 17 year old you, helmet on and visor down, as you walked to your F2 car, shining with your new number. 
“In less than 24 hours, she was back in the car.” 
Your car sped down the straight, over the finish line. 
“And she won.” 
The scene shifted to 23 year old Max Verstappen handing you the big F2 trophy. Tears could be seen in your eyes as you took the cup and thanked him. 
“Did you know?” 
Max looked at her in bewilderment. “I didn’t. And you would have never guessed it. Y/n has her heart on her sleeve, everywhere she goes, except when she races.” 
A quick cut now shows Christian back in the seat. 
“The last driver I saw with that mental strength was Charles Leclerc. He previously lost his godfather, and then lost his father. A few days later he won his race. Y/n lost the only family she had in less than a year.” Christian laughed. “These rookies are built different. You’d think they were made for the earlier days of racing, with how much they put into it. But Y/n, I don’t know. Her aura commands attention.” 
The scenes now shown are from multiple races. 
The camera followed you as you walked through the crowded paddock, trying to get back to hospitality. You thought that it would be different, that you’d have to squeeze through to get by. But with each step you took, the people parted like water. 
You flashed a smile at many fans who seemed awestruck to be in your presence. 
A new driver is now in the seat. 
“She’s almost like Charles, in a sense,” Lando said. “The two of them,” he looked around, “I don’t know. It’s hard to describe.” 
“Can you try?” Lando shot her a cheeky grin. “They are basically the F1 royalty. Any driver has a ‘celebrity image’ and people are excited to see us outside. They ask to take pictures, but they also do things against us.” 
The scene cuts to multiple instances of booing and pushing drivers. 
“And yet, Charles and Y/n bend them to their will almost. They listen to them. The King and Queen of Formula 1.” 
A video of you, Lando, Max, and Charles speaking before the Monaco Grand Prix plays. 
“Ah, Max. Did I tell you that we have to address them as your highness now?” 
Max looked up from his phone and followed Lando’s finger that was pointed at Charles and you, deep in conversation.
“No? Why?” Lando walked over and showed him the edit and comments on his phone. 
The caption read “Y/n L/n and Charles Leclerc are F1 royalty and we need to address them as such.” The video that played started with a clip of Charles in Monaco, with the grid and Monegasque royalty behind him. He looked so majestic. It switched over to you in your home country, with a crowd around your pedestal. You hadn’t even won yet, and they looked at you as though you hung the moon. You stretched out your arms and the crowd roared.
Max looked back at the two, who were ignorantly blissed. Max looked up at Lando. 
“You’re right.” 
The camera is back to Charles. 
His eyes were wide with eyebrows raised, “Lando really said that.” He smirked. Shuffling up to good posture he said, “I’m fine with that. Y/n has always been different, but in a good way. She knows what the people wants, but also doesn’t get caught up in all the PR. She’s herself.” 
A clip of you with fans plays. Your smile was mirrored with theirs. Everyone wanted to see you, hug you, feel you. And the waves that were emanating from you only made the crowd happier. 
Now, the seat is occupied by none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton. 
“What do I think about Y/n?” he questions back to himself. “I know that she is one of the best rookies to ever come across in the world of Formula 1. I’ve had the opportunity to share podiums with so many drivers, but her? There’s something different.”
The scene flashes to a podium shared with you, Lewis, and Max. Lewis had been able to take the win, leaving you on the third step. You had almost had the win, but a late safety car ruined it. Lewis looked over at you, expecting a disappointed face. But all he saw was a smile that rivaled the sun. 
“She never seems to be disappointed with anything. Even if she was to qualify in last place, she would still smile.” Lewis laughed. “And I think everyone loves her more than they realize.” 
A small clip of you and a bulldog flashes across the screen. Roscoe was licking all over your face. 
“Roscoe, stop!” But you were laughing, and the dog thought that he should continue. Lewis found the two of you in the middle of the floor in the Mercedes hospitality. A blanket was draped around your shoulders.  
“And what are you doing here kid?” Lewis put his hands on his sides. 
You shrugged. “Toto told me I could hang out here. Max is having one of those ‘adult meetings’ that Christian says my ears shouldn’t hear. I think they forget that I’m 21 now.” 
Lewis just laughed, thinking of how Toto must have let you in and had given you a blanket as well. He just ruffled your hair and sat on the ground with you.  
The scene changes one more time. You are now in the seat. 
The interviewer asks, “Please state your name and your occupation.” 
You smiled, “My name is Y/n L/n and I am a Formula 1 racer who drives for the Oracle Red Bull Racing Formula 1 Team. I also DJ,” you shot finger guns at the camera and clicked you mouth, “Thanks Lando.” 
“How was your first season in Formula 1. You obviously showed the world of what you could do.” 
You nodded before continuing, “The season went better than I expected. To place third in the driver’s championship as a rookie? Unheard of.” You smirked. “Until now.” 
The person behind the camera continued, “You were only 10 points away from Charles Leclerc. How does that make you feel?” 
You cocked your head. “It feels wonderful. Charles had a really good season.” You leaned in as though to tell a secret. “If anything, don’t tell Charles or Max I said this, but Max and I would rather lose to Charles than anyone else.” 
“And why is that?” 
You deadpanned. “Well Charles is Lightning McQueen incarnate and Max’s emotional support rival. Who else would we want?” People laughed in the background. 
“Now that you know you could win a championship…” 
You cut her off, “Oh I’ve always known I could win a championship. But I also know that I was born to break records. And right now, I’m on a path to help Max break the 7 streak.” 
“Ah yes, sorry. What would you do after winning a championship.�� You hadn’t seen Max slip in. 
“I think I’d pull a Nico Rosenburg. Ya know? Retire while I’m ahead.” 
“You would not do that!” Max said behind the camera and you looked straight at him. 
“Yes I would.” 
“No you wouldn’t. Because you said you were born to break records. Well Kid, if I make a record championship, you need to be the one to break it.” 
Oh my gosh, I loved how this chapter turned out. And it is officially the longest chapter I have written so far – 6,077 words. Right now, I have to write the chapter for the last race of F2 and you readers have to pretend that it lands on a weekend that the F1 drivers can attend. 
Also! I am pleased to announce that the first few chapters of a new series will be out shortly! It is called “Besties for the Resties” and it’s how you got close with many of the drivers. Not all of them will have their own chapter and not all the drivers are being written about. So please be aware that this will not be going over 10 chapters! 
Thank you to all my readers and Happy Thanksgiving!  
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bvbygrl-writes · 6 months
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Wrong House
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Pairing: Stu Macher x Nerdy!Reader x Billy Loomis
Word Count: 3.2k
Summary: A step into wrong house leads to a night of the right fun.
A/N: I was not supposed to upload this tonight but I'm too excited about it. I'm not proof reading this long ass shit either so if something is spelled wrong use your imagination to fix it, mwuah! <3
Warnings: reader has afab anatomy breaking and entering, knife play, homoerotic themes (they kiss but nothing more than that), mentions of murder, eiffel towering, loss of virginity, coercion and ultimatums, rope bandage, panty kink, and panty sniffing.
THIS FIC IS 18+!!! MINORS / ACCOUNTS WITHOUT AGE DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED WITH NO WARNING BUT THIS ONE.
(Y/n) was naturally an anxious girl but, with her parents out of town and the string of murders happening, she was on edge. She had every single light on in the house, the downstairs tv on, anything to make it seem as though the house was full of life. The reporters on the radio had told people to stay together and while most of the students in school had that option, she didn’t. Nobody wanted to be friends with the quiet girl who still wore Care Bear sweaters and could recite Star Trek lines from memory.
Nibbling the end of her pencil, she let out an exasperated sigh. She had been staring at the same math problem in her textbook for a good 45 minutes. “Focus, (Y/n/n), focus. If you do end up living through all of this, you’ll want to get into a good college.If you fail, mom and dad will make you wish you were dead.” she said out loud to herself, a sad laugh falling from her lips. At that same moment, her stomach began to grumble. When was the last time she ate? Reaching for the phone, she dialed the number to her favorite chinese food place. She loved it because the food was cheap and they were one of the only places that delivered something other than pizza after 10PM. 
“Alright, thank you!” she said, placing the phone back on the receiver. It’d be about a 20 minute wait, giving her time to focus more on her work. Sighing she sat back down in front of her textbook, staring at the page until the numbers started to blur together. “Well, that’s enough of that! I should get the money for the delivery driver seeing as it’ll be here in…” glancing at the clock on her wall she sighed, “Twenty minutes.” ignoring that face, she stood up, bunny slippers stomping over the carpeted floor to the piggy bank on her dresser. She pulled out a 10 dollar bill along with a 5 for the tip. But before (Y/n) could even get to her door, she heard a noise at the front door. 
“Th-that’s weird. There’s still nineteen minutes an-” she shrieked at the sound of the door bursting open. Every anxiety filled thought she had had since being home by herself was coming true. The blood drained from her face, her body growing light at the sound of the voices coming from the living room. Tears began to form in the corner of her eyes as she turned off the lights and closed her bedroom door. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs put in perspective just how real this all was. She silently cursed her dad for never fixing the damn lock on her window. She might’ve broken a few bones from jumping, but that’d be better than being completely dead! Looking around her room she made the decision to jump in her closet, closing the accordion door.
She became aware of how loudly she was breathing, clamping her hands over her mouth. Her body trembled with terror. ‘Is this how I die? Alone, never experiencing friendship or love?’ Was this really the time to be feeling sorry for her lack of social and love life? ‘Well to be fair, this may be one of the last times I’m able to feel anything whatsoever.’ The sound of her bedroom door opening instantly made her mind go blank. The girl felt as though she was having a heart attack and honestly? She would have preferred that to whatever death she was about to experience.
“Are you sure this is the right house? This doesn’t look like Chelsea’s room.” A male’s voice remarked, the lights flicking on. She could see through the small slots on the folding door that there were two men. One had dark hair and a knife in his hand. The other one was taller with blonde hair and a backpack with god knows what inside of it.
“Yeah, dude! This is 345 Avalee Lane.” the other one exclaimed, an almost sinister grin on his face. The dark hair one made a sound that was a mix of a growl and a sigh.
“You fucking idiot! Chelsea lives in 348, we’re in the wrong house!” he pinched the bridge of his nose, kicking over the little trash can near her desk across the room. (Y/n) relaxed a bit. Maybe since they weren’t looking for her they’d just leave?
“Well at least no one’s home, we can just get out of here.” The blonde one rasped out, eating a piece of candy off of her dresser before tossing the wrapper on the ground. ‘Rude’ she thought.
“The lights and the tv were on. Someone’s definitely in this house. I’m going to go check the other rooms and you look around this one a bit better. We can’t take any chances.” The brunette exited the room and in the distance he heard the sound of different doors being opened. 
The blonde one began to hum, snooping around her room. He walked over to her dresser, opening up her panty drawer. A smile grew on his face as he held up a pair of white ones with a pink lace trim, shoving them in the back pocket of his baggy jeans. “Cute.” he said to himself (or so he thought). Walking over to her bed, he tossed the covers back before bending down to check under the bed as well. Next, he walked over to the cupboard of her collectable figurines, opening up the door. “Hm.” he shrugged before beginning to exit the room. She removed her hands from her mouth, placing them on the floor beside her as she let her body relax. However, before he could leave, she could see a lightbulb go off in his brain as he turned around walking towards the closet. The girl’s eyes went wide as she shook her head. As he opened the closet door, she couldn’t even manage to make a sound. A look of surprise made its way onto his face before he began to grin. “You’ve got cute little undies. Hey Billy!”
All (Y/n) could do was sit there in shock. She recognized this boy, he was in her art classes although he rarely showed up. Now that she could really see his face, he was quite attractive. Before she could delve into why she was letting herself think that, the other one (who she assumed was Billy) appeared right next to him. Although he had a scowl on his face, he was just as attractive. ‘Well, you always said you wanted a cute guy to notice you. There’s two! But you should’ve been more specific, huh (Y/n/n)?’ 
“She’s kind of cute in a dorky little way, ain’t she?” Stu commented as Billy used his knife to lift her chin. She didn’t dare stop making eye contact with Billy for fear of what he might do with that knife the second she did. He tilted her face around, examining it from all sorts of angles before he chuckled.
“She is. (Y/n), right? You’re the girl that’s always winning those sciences awards at school. We have AP English together.” he said in a calm tone. This was the strangest thing she had ever experienced. Why were they dragging this on so much when they could just kill her and get it over with?
“M-mmm-mhm!” she stuttered out, nodding her head ever so slightly so she didn’t cut herself on the blade. 
“Although I agree with my friend here, you still find yourself to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. See, I’ve got a plan and if I let you live, there’s a big chance you’re going to blab and ruin it for me.” he said, his words coming out through gritted teeth towards the end. “So unfortunately, your time’s up.”
“No, no please! I-I-I won’t blab and tell! I don’t have any friends or anyone to tell I won’t tell please! I promise!” she sobbed, begging for her life as he pressed the knife against her neck harder. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins, which would also explain the sensation happening between her legs. Fat tears continued to stream down her face. “I promise please there’s gotta be a way!” she continued to plead for her life, waiting for something, just anything to happen. Whatever it’d take for this situation to be over. However, she was surprised when the knife suddenly was no longer pressed to her neck. Looking up, she saw the blonde one’s hand had moved it away and he was whispering something into Billy’s ear. Their eyes kept flickering to parts of the room and then back to her before Billy gave a singular nod. 
“It seems my friend Stu here has taken quite a liking to you so here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to have a bit of fun with you and if we enjoy it, you live and we’ll be back to get you after we finish some…business. And if not, I’ll slit your throat right after we finish. Does that sound fair?” Billy said, tugging her from her sitting position to be in between the both of them. She nodded frantically, happy to have even a small chance of living. She knew they were probably going to kill her when they were done, but at least that moment was suspended for a bit longer.
“Wh-what do I need t-to do?” she asked, her heart racing as she looked up at the two of them. They were completely dwarfing her with their size, it was like being trapped between two incredibly hot trees. Stu grinned at her once again before stepping back a bit.
“Well you can start by stripping!” he instructed, phrasing it like a suggestion even though she knew it wasn’t. She nodded, taking off her cream colored sweater, sliding her Power Rangers pajama pants down right after. She began to hesitate slightly as now she was just in her slippers and underwear.
“Allow me.” Billy said, using his knife to snip off her bra. He started at the shoulder straps, taking a moment to stare at her breast before tearing the backband as well. She didn’t try to cover up, knowing her chances of survival would dwindle to none. He went to pull down her panties but Stu stopped him, shaking his head.
“Leave those on her.” he said, before getting down on his knees in front of her. Billy held her arms behind her back with one of his, peeking over the girl’s shoulders to see what his moronic friend had planned. What she didn’t expect was for him to bury his face into her underwear-clad pussy and sniff. Stu let out a low moan as he did, eyes rolling back in pleasure. He continued to sniff at her front, his nose nudging her clit through the fabric. “God that’s amazing. Looks like she’s enjoying it too.” he said, rubbing his finger on the wet spot forming on her panties. He gently pressed his fingers against the fabric causing (Y/n) to squirm a bit, a gentle moan falling from her mouth.
“Oh, that’s such a pretty noise.” Billy purrs lowly in her ear. Standing from the floor, Stu lifts his fingers up to Billy’s mouth and without thinking, he opens it. The girl watches in awe, her clit beginning to throb at the way the two men were interacting with one another. Stu slowly pulls his fingers from the man’s mouth, biting his lip as the other man licks his. “Did you want a taste?” he asks in a deep tone. At the same time, they both lean over and begin to share a passionate and heated open mouth kiss. Little moans and grunts fall from them, a gasp falling from her own lips as Stu grips at her waist, beginning to grind against her front, his bulge slotted between her slit. Billy mimics his actions, grinding his cock against her ass. She was glad the two were holding her up, because at the current moment she wasn’t sure if her legs would work. This was a whole new world for her. She had never been kissed or even touched by one man let alone two. The noises falling from her mouth were completely out of her control, the sensation of their rhythmic rubbing along with the scene of them kissing above her was all too much for her to handle. 
As though they could hear her thoughts, they pulled away from their kiss, turning their attention back to her. She hadn’t even realized that the knife was completely gone now. If she wanted to, she could’ve ran and gotten away. If she wanted to. Billy gripped her arms once more, beginning to walk her over to the bed. She felt her face grow warm at the collection of stuffed animals, causing her to look at the ground. “They keep me warm at night.” she defended weakly. Stu laughed, cooing at her before picking one up and turning it to face the wall, repeating the action several times with the other one.
Billy groaned, annoyed. “Seriously?”
“What? I know how the girls get about that sort of thing.” As Stu continued with his antics, the brunette reached for his friend’s bag. (Y/n) eyed him curiously, thinking he had changed his mind on their deal but was relieved when all he pulled out was a bit of rope. Wait, rope? He tossed it up and down smirking at her before positioning himself behind her as he began to tie her hands together. ‘This is better than whatever they usually probably use this for.’ She tugged at the rope, the friction causing a mild irritation from the action. He pushed her a bit, causing her to fall forward onto the bed. Her ass was in the air while the upper part of her body fell down due to having no support. She listened to the sound of belts and pants clambering before feeling the bed dip down behind her. At that same time, a pair of legs kneeled in front of her as well. She felt as a hand carded it’s way through her hair before tightening, lifting her face to be eye level with a cock. Peering up, she saw that it was Billy.
“Are you gonna open up or am I going to have to do it for you?” he asked, causing a bit of panic to flash through the girl’s (e/c) eyes.
“S-sorry. I’ve never done any of this before.” she muttered, causing a whistle from behind her. She could imagine the grin on Stu's face.
“A cute virgin?! How lucky are we tonight? Oh this is going to be fun. I haven’t popped a cherry in quite a long time.” Stu gushed, rubbing his hands together. “I can barely contain myself!” her panties were then pulled to the side, long fingers beginning to rub all along her slick covered folds. She let out a whimper, her knees trembling as he began to rub circles on her clit. As he slid a finger in, her mouth fell open which Billy saw as the perfect opportunity. Gripping her hair a bit tighter, he began to slide his cock into her mouth slowly. He stared down at her face, watching as her mouth began to struggle with the girth of him, tears falling down her face.
“You better stop with all those tears, I really don’t wanna cum this early.” Billy teased, beginning to rock his hips back and forth. He hissed in pleasure at her tight and warm little mouth, tossing his head back as he let out a guttural moan. Behind her, Stu had managed to work the third finger in, stretching and scissoring them around.Gripping her hip with one hand, he used his other to glide his cock along her lips causing them to both moan. “Hurry up, I wanna pick up the pace but I’m trying to make it easier for you.”
“I’m going!” and with that, Stu slid his cock in with one swift motion. His grip on her hips tightened at the same time her walls did as he fell forward for a bit, head resting against the small of her back. “G-god, oh fuck! You’ve got a tight little pussy, huh?” he said through gritted teeth, beginning to pound into her at an almost animalistic pace. Her pussy drooled around his cock as she continued to moan around Billy, choking as he also picked up his pace. Their thrust were alternating. As Stu would pull his cock out some, Billy’s would enter her throat deep, barely giving her a chance to get used to anything. She had already came around his cock twice, the feeling being overwhelmingly pleasurable. 
They were using her like a doll, holding her up and angling her just right. All she could do was sob and take it, the only thing on her mind was their cocks and her life. She didn’t even care if she was going to die after this, this was the best thing she had ever experienced in her life. 
“You look so helpless when you cry. God, Stu I wish you could see her right now.” Billy moaned out, staring down into those wet (e/c) eyes. Picking up his pace, he gripped at her scalp, full on skull fucking her now. His thrust had grown sloppy and so had his counterpart’s. 
“Tr-trust me, my view is just as good. I’m cl-close!” he whined out, reaching a finger down to rub at the girl's sensitive and swollen clit. (Y/n) screamed around Billy’s cock sending him over the edge. Pulling out, he coated her face and hair in a load of sticky white cum. Watching Billy stroke his cock over her face pushed Stu over the edge as well, causing him to bounce her back on his dick, whimpering as he came deep inside of her. 
The room fell silent and as (Y/n) came to her senses, the question of the hour came back to haunt her. Was she going to live?
“Are you satisfied, Stu?”
“More than, man.”
“Well..” Billy trailed off, stepping off of the bed. As Stu pulled out, she felt cold and exposed. Both men stood behind her, staring as the load of cum began to roll down the back of her legs. The brunette reached forward, grabbing her wrist rather roughly before untying her. “I guess you live. We’ll be back. In the meantime, get cleaned up.” the sound of the doorbell ringing caused the two men to look out the window, thinking she had somehow managed to get in contact with help. However, they both relaxed at the sight of the delivery truck on the outside of the house. 
“Make sure you save me some chow mein!” Stu said. The girl rolled over on her back, letting out a breathless laugh watching as the two quickly got dressed. Before they headed for the bedroom door, Stu took her panties off of her, sticking them in the front pocket of his jeans. 
“For good luck!”
1K notes · View notes
heartfullofleeches · 1 year
Note
okay but what if miller's viewers ended up being yanderes for delivery!reader too? how would the lacking sunlight and in extremely dire need to touch grass streamer react?
- 🍡
"Aw, is Y/n not with you today?" What a bummer, wanted to see you two together one last time before they left you."
Miller chokes on a mouth full of beer as the message is read aloud; covering their mouth with their hand to mask the amusement they felt at the donor's audacity. Bold little fucker - they'd give them that.
Miller chuckles. "Nah, my poor babes is feeling a little under the weather today so they're getting some rest. Gonna make them some soup after I hop off in a minute."
Their laughter dies as another message is auto played.
"You're such a piece of shit lol. You've got such a cute partner and you flaunt them off to the whole world. Bet you don't even take good care of them. Someone outta take them off your hands and treat them right."
"Oh?" Miller's cocky smirk curls into a mocking sneer as they rise from their seat. They position the camera to where you lay on the bed, swaddled in blankets and plush companions they bought for you. They walk over, spooning you from behind and cradling your head to their chest as you stir in your sleep.
"I'd say I take damn good care of my angel considering I'm the one with them in my bed. If you want to try and take them from me, I'll gladly give you my current location. Not like we'll be here much longer away. Place's much to small for a family. Even if it's just two people."
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navybrat817 · 3 months
Text
Navy's Nonsense: 3/4 - 3/10
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March Madness, lovelies! Just a small fic planned for this week. Anything else shared is extra. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog so you don't miss out on any new fics, updates, or polls. ❤️
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Unplanned nonsense posted 3/4: Delivery Route (Delivery Driver!Bucky Barnes x Reader)
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Unplanned nonsense posted 3/7: Crying (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
Surprise nonsense posted 3/10 - For Years or for Hours (Bucky Barnes x Reader) ❤️
Did you miss last week's nonsense? No worries! Check it out here. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
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suiana · 9 months
Note
please expand on yan doordash food guy he has snuck his way into my heart <3333
(continuation from previous post) (reader is fed up with his shit LOL)
"pls..."
"what the fuck"
you stare at his messages, eyebrows furrowed as your phone continues to buzz from the endless notifications. seriously, what was his problem?!
"you're weird. don't text me again."
"wait pls no"
"i swear i just wanna feed you"
"GOOD FOOD"
"like lasayna"
"lasagne"
"lasanje"
you groan, annoyed at this guy's countless typos as you furiously type out the correct spelling. you had just wanted some food to fill your empty stomach but now you had an annoying guy to deal with!
annoyance and hunger. not a good combo.
"it's lasagna. now don't text me again."
you exit the chat, still annoyed as you close your eyes to relax. hm... maybe you should just cook some instant noodles-
*ding!*
your doorbell chimes. who the hell- wait, was that the delivery driver?! holding a container of lasagna?!
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notmyneighbor · 1 month
Text
Special Delivery - Doppelganger Francis Mosses x Female Reader
Word Count - 3.3k
Rating - Explicit
CW - masturbation, oral sex
Also available on AO3
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You’re being followed.
You’re out later than you’d intended, but there had been a lot of requests that day. Word was spreading. You were getting quite the reputation among the doppelgängers.
Imagine, a human who was betraying her own kind, making forged documents to help the invaders into DDD restricted areas.
You don’t even feel guilty about it, either, because what has any human ever done for you? You’ve been on your own since as far back as you can remember, dealt a bad hand early in life. This scheme you’ve concocted pays well. Better than any of the other less savory things you’ve had to do to supplement your income, and it came with an added bonus: you knew how to write in the alien’s language as well, the symbols you inscribe on the frame of your apartment door and workspaces guaranteeing you’ll be exempt from harm.
Maybe you could’ve done something with your artistic and linguist skills if you’d had the opportunity, but alas, this was your lot in life. Making the best of a less than ideal situation.
You deviate your course a few times, just to make certain you’re still being pursued. Yes, he’s still trailing you. You’re certain it’s male but you’re not pausing long enough to discern more than that. Well, fuck.
You take another detour. Perhaps not the best decision in hindsight. You’re further away from home now. You don’t recognize the street you’re on. There’s a delivery truck parked on the side of the road. Dairy. Should you try to hide inside? The door was open. Where was the driver? You consider your options. No one would admit you into their house at this hour, and why should they, when you’ve been selling out all your neighbors? The truck, then. Your stalker’s footsteps still sounded a fair distance away. It was your only chance at this point. Maybe you could find something to mark the symbols. If there was still time.
The step to enter the truck is high. You have to ungraciously hoist yourself inside, clinging desperately to the sides to balance your weight. Made it. Your nose wrinkles. There’s a faintly sour smell. Spoiled products. The keys are in the ignition. A feeling of foreboding washes over you. The street lamp nearby barely illuminates the interior of the vehicle. You’re afraid to go into the back. You can’t see anything you can use to write the protection phrase. Your breath saws in and out. Too loud. You’re making too much noise.
A foot on the steel step makes you whirl around. It’s your pursuer. Dressed as a milkman, but you know instantly it’s not. Replicant. Deceiver. The clone of whatever human he’s copying. He’d chosen a handsome one, though you doubt it had anything to do with appearances, more a matter of convenience. Broad shouldered. Narrow waisted. He lifts himself into the truck with practiced ease. You’re so fucked.
Dark eyes and hair. Pale skin. He blocks the light from outside as he crowds you further inside. Well, you couldn’t say you’d had a good run, but you’d done your best. You close your eyes. You don’t want to see the teeth emerge before he devours you.
“What are you doing in here?”
Your eyes fly open again. He hasn’t advanced any further. He wanted to talk? Play with his food before he ate it? Maybe he wasn’t hungry. Mabe you could talk your way out of this.
“I…I got lost on the way home.”
“You’re lying.” No malice behind those words, just an observation.
“I heard you following me. I know what you are,” you admit, then instantly regret it. Stupid girl.
“I know who you are, too. You’re the one who makes the ID’s and entry requests.”
“Business hours are Monday through Friday, 8am to 5pm.” Were you seriously being flippant with a doppelgänger? You give a little chuckle to show you’re joking around, but the noise sounds more like a dying hyena, slightly panicked and hysterical.
“Those hours don’t work for me.”
“Oh.” So he was a prospective customer then? “Cash up front, half in advance, the rest on delivery. Currently working this week behind the abandoned grocery store off of Burke Street. I have to rotate the site to, you know…”
“I’ll pay extra,” he adds. “For the inconvenience of the hour and short notice.”
You lick your lips at the prospect of making additional funds. What would be fair to charge? “You need it right now? What’s the hurry?”
“Are you able to do it or not?” This now laced with irritation. His patience and good graces were wearing thin already. Best not to ire him further. You’re lucky to still be alive.
“Yeah, I can do it.”
“I’ll drive us there, then.”
“Where am I supposed to sit?” You glance around the front of the cabin. There’s only one seat for the driver.
You see his shoulders raise and lower in a shrug before he sits behind the wheel. You suppose your only choice is to sit on the floor.
“Your truck reeks,” you say, that sour smell assaulting your nostrils again as you lower yourself down.
The engine rumbles to life. “Deliveries didn’t get made today.”
“Did you…” You’re wondering what happened to the original, human operator of the vehicle. Had he suffered some grim fate? Were his remains sitting in the doppelgänger’s gut, being digested at this very moment? You shudder at the unpleasant thought.
He glances down at you. “No. I simply duplicated his form and stole the truck. You humans leave your body substances everywhere,” he says, lifting the cap off his head and tossing it onto the dashboard. “This one perspired all over that.”
That was all it took for a doppel to replicate a human. Just a little bit of something from the original. Sweat. Blood. Mucus. Probably other, even more unsavory substances, too.
It’s uncomfortable on the floor. The truck’s suspension jostles you roughly. Luckily you don’t have far to go. The driver eases behind the abandoned brick building, shutting off the headlamps. There are no functioning street lights in this part of town. You’re shrouded in darkness.
The doppel stands and you struggle to your feet, reluctantly accepting the hand he offers you to assist you to your feet. You’ve never touched one of the invaders directly before. It feels normal. Just like a human. You’re not sure if that makes it better or worse.
You’ve been working out of the manager’s office in the rear of the store. You’ve got an actual set of keys, pilfered once you’d broken into the building. Another of your talents, that. Breaking and entering. An additional skill this unfair life has made you adept at.
You’re not used to being here so late. It’s amazing no one’s realized the building is still on the electrical grid. You’re grateful for the mistake, switching on the light in the back hallway after feeling blindly for the switch. The doppel is just behind you. You unlock the office door and hit another light switch, sighing in relief. That was better. Familiar territory. No longer in darkness.
But there’s an anxious invader at your back, and that knowledge is less than comforting. You sit down in the office chair behind the steel desk and he settles into the hardbacked one across from you.
“So, um…about the fee.”
Without a word the alien digs into his pants pocket, extracting several bills from a wallet and sliding them over to you. “Will that be sufficient?”
You’re trying to keep a straight face. Where did he get this much money? “Yes, that’s fine. Do you…do you have a home address for the individual?”
Delving back into the wallet, he now produces a car registration. Francis Mosses. You recognize the area he resides in. A better part of town than the one you’re living in, but maybe someday you could change that.
Although, you’re about to make that area a lot less safe, you think, pulling the necessary tools out of the large bottom desk drawer, including a DDD logo stamp. That had been the hardest item to acquire. The rest were fairly routine.
“I need to take a picture. Do you just want to get that over with now?” He nods. “Can you stand in front of the door? It’s a good blank background.” Another nod as you stand. He closes the office door and positions himself, waiting for you to snap the Polaroid. Damn, he really is attractive. Exactly your type. You don’t even mind the little bend at the bridge of his nose or the shadows under his eyes. You take several pictures, one for the ID card and one for the entry request, with some extras just for…well, maybe just to have options if the others didn’t turn out well.
You’re not used to being watched while you work.
You typically have the doppels come back to pick the forgeries up later. These dark eyes watch your every movement like a hawk, from the way you print onto the request form to the drag of the scalpel blade around two of the photographs(they had all come out fine), carefully affixing them to both documents. You roll the stamp in the black ink pad and press it gently but firmly into each corner, waving a hand over the fresh ink to help it dry.
“You’re skilled at this,” he murmurs appreciatively, and your head lifts to meet his gaze. “I see why you come so highly recommended.”
“It’s not like there’s any competition,” you say, feeling a flush creep into your cheeks over the praise.
“True. Not many humans would betray their own kind, would they?”
Your lips press into a thin line of displeasure. You didn’t need the reminder. Was he mocking you?
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sure you have your reasons.”
Somewhat mollified, you glance down at your work. It still looked a little moist. You need it to be completely dry before you apply the lamination to seal it in permanently.
The copycat is still staring at you. You, not the documents you’re working on. You clear your throat. “I want to make sure they’ve dried properly.”
“Of course.”
“It’ll just be a few minutes.”
“I don’t mind the wait.”
You lean back and the swivel chair creaks. Your shoulders are aching. You’d made a lot of forgeries today. Too much time spent hunched over the desk. Your eyes are a little sore, too, dry and burning. You needed a bath and maybe a snack and bed. Forget dinner. That sounded too complicated at this hour.
“You’re tired,” he observes.
“It’s been a long day.”
“I am inconveniencing you greatly, aren’t I?”
He doesn’t sound remorseful, exactly. You don’t know what he sounds like. It’s too difficult to process. You’re exhausted, that post adrenaline rush from earlier really depleting the last stores of energy. You don’t even think you’d protest if he decided to turn on you right now, taking the goods and making a meal out of you before he ran. The symbols are more of a professional courtesy than anything. It’s not like it actually prevented the doppels from physically being able to attack.
The legs of the chair he’s seated in drag across the dirty linoleum flooring, making a loud scraping sound. You watch warily as he comes around the desk, easing past a filing cabinet to reach your side.
“We haven’t really negotiated the full price yet, have we?”
Oh. Was that what was happening? He was going to stiff you. Suddenly that advance amount no longer seemed so generous. That was to be your total payment. Honestly, you should have been more demanding.
“I have more money,” he says, immediately canceling out your previous assumption, “but I don’t think that’s what you need most right now.”
“You’re right. I should be at home in the bathtub. Or better yet bed,” you add.
His hand reaches for the edge of the chair, turning you fully to face him. The abrupt movement catches you by surprise.
“Maybe what you really need is some good old fashioned milk.” His hand closes over your wrist, dragging your hand towards what you’ve somehow missed previously. He’s hard. Like full on, bulging, fit to burst out of his trousers. You should be terrified. You are scared, kind of. But turned on. Stupidly aroused because you haven’t had anyone give you this kind of attention in who knows how long. Sex had just kind of fallen by the wayside for you. There was so much else that needed to be accounted for.
You watch the hand pulling the leather strap of the imposter milkman’s belt in wonder, as if you can’t quite reconcile it’s your own doing this. Its partner joining, thumbing the button of the fly through the slot and parting the metal teeth below into a wicked grin. You shove the waistband of his briefs down and his cock springs free, flushed and thick and oozing precum. You stare at that clear bead of fluid as if hypnotized. Your mouth waters. You want it. You want to suck this creature dry.
Your tongue swipes over the crown of his erection and the doppel hums in pleasure. “Good girl,” he says encouragingly, and the praise sends heat right between your legs, your pussy tingling in response. You’re no longer thinking about your unfinished work on the desk beside you, about how dangerous it is to be alone with a doppelgänger in an abandoned building at night. You’re instead wondering how much of that dark pink length you’re going to be able to voluntarily sample before your gag reflex interrupts and he’s forced to fuck into your throat manually. Your sex throbs again. Time to stop wondering and find out.
Your lips close over the head and begin sliding over the shaft. Clean musk. A better flavor than perhaps you’d anticipated. You take a few experimental bobs, testing. He’s stretching you already. Your lips. The fat head bumping your cheeks, your soft palate. His fingers are in your hair, combing through the tresses with a strange kind of tenderness.
“So good. You’re so talented…”
You whimper a little, trying to reach more of him. There it is. That natural barrier of your body’s resistance. You struggle against it until you’re forced to withdraw, coughing and gasping, leaving a trail of thick saliva behind. You give yourself a brief respite, stroking the slick fluids over his prick. It makes a lewd squelching sound every time you massage the shaft. You can feel your arousal leaking between your legs, saturating your panties. You reach under your skirt, no longer caring about how depraved you appear. It’s a relief when your fingers make contact with your clit, dragging that wetness around the nub in frantic circles.
“That’s a good girl. Touch that pussy. It feels good, doesn’t it? So good…”
Your mouth engulfs his cock again. You roll your lips inward and massage the length in short bursts. Now relaxing and planting soft, passionate kisses on the tip. You spit on it and slurp up the liquid noisily. You like the sounds the doppel is making. You’ve never liked the men who were quiet, reserved. This invader isn’t holding back. He moans and groans and hisses. His teeth catch his bottom lip. His head tips back when the ecstasy of the blow job gets to be a bit overwhelming. And you love every minute of it. You savor every sound and gesture as you perform the obscene act while masturbating, grinding your swollen bundle of nerve endings against your pubic bone.
“You’re hungry, honey, aren’t you? Starving. I’ve got what you need, darling.” The nails of the hand you have curled around his hip dig into the cotton and polyester blended fabric of his uniform pants as you push yourself even further down his length, this time bruising your throat. You ignore the discomfort, grateful when the hand in your hair finally tightens and you feel him begin to fuck your mouth, battering the rear of that moist cavern over and over. “You want a drink, baby? You ready for it?”
You hum in agreement and he eases up, withdrawing until just the head of that thick phallus sits on the tip of your tongue. You’re panting, moaning, frantic for his release perhaps even more than your own.
“Here you go, sweetheart.” A couple of swipes along the shaft and that brief pumping is enough to send him over the edge, thick pulses of cum now spraying the inside of your mouth, pooling on the wedge of muscle his dick rests against. There’s a lot. An absurd amount. You can feel it leaking from the corners of your mouth. Bitter, but not the worst you’ve tasted. Sheer coincidence your body decides to shatter the instant you swallow that load, forcing that creamy baby batter down your gullet while your pussy spasms against your relentless finger.
“There you go, baby. Good girl.”
The milkman’s doppel bends to kiss you, surprising you with the gesture, now of all times, licking your face clean before thrusting his tongue between your lips and you crash right into another orgasm, moaning and twitching while the imposter fucks your mouth with his tongue.
Truly wrung out now, you collapse against the back of the chair, your chest heaving. The doppelgänger refastens his pants, but not before you notice it looks like he could go another round soon, and oh, doesn’t that make your cunt throb again in spite of being so recently satisfied, twice no less.
It takes great effort to smooth your skirt and your mussed hair back into some semblance of order, returning your attention to the documents that are certainly ready by now, the ink well set. The doppelgänger doesn’t return to his seat, instead remaining beside you, watching as the final protective layer is applied.
“There you go. Finished.” You glance up to see the doppel’s gaze fixed on you again, the money forgotten in his hand.
“Maybe…maybe we could work out a deal for the remainder of the payment.”
Your heart speeds up a little. “I’m listening.”
“Maybe I could make special deliveries. To your residence. For as long as it takes to cancel the debt.”
You hum, pretending to consider the offer even though you already know what your answer will be. “What happens after that?”
“We can renegotiate the terms when the time comes.”
“Interesting.”
“Interesting as in you want to think it over, or…interesting as in you definitely want more?” He bends to kiss you again. Gentler this time, but no less appealing.
“The latter.”
“Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” He sets the cash on the desk. “Consider that a tip then, for a job well done.”
You’re not going to argue with that. You hurriedly put everything away and lock the office again, soon finding yourself back outside next to the truck.
“Are you walking home, or do you want a ride?”
You weigh the discomfort of being on the floor in the smelly vehicle against walking home alone at an even riskier hour, where an encounter with another doppel would most assuredly not go as pleasantly.
“I’ll take the ride. But you need to clean the truck out.”
“I’ll do it in the morning.”
“The real milkman must have caught hell losing all these orders and the company car,” you murmur as you return to your former position inside the vehicle.
“Not my problem.”
“Every man for himself, right?” You can hardly condemn the attitude, given your current career choice.
“Exactly.” A flash of teeth in the darkness. He steals another kiss before starting the engine, bending low to capture your lips.
You’re delivered safely to your apartment building minutes later, personally escorted by the cloned milkman.
“I’ll bring you your next delivery tomorrow night, hmm?”
“Okay.” He’s standing so close. It takes just the slightest lean for him to kiss you again.
“Unless, of course, you wanted another advance…”
You shove the door you’ve already unlocked open, inviting the doppelgänger inside.
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sturniluvr · 4 days
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All of me, loves all of you
Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader
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word count: 1.3k
warnings: possible spelling mistakes, some language, hate comments, nothing else lmk if I missed anything
summary: you’ve always been told in your life by multiple people that you’re always either too loud or too quiet and it’s one of your biggest insecurities but happens to be your boyfriend’s favourite thing about you.
A/N: sorta inspired by @obsidianbaby fic with a little twist and hers is a Chris version. Here it is if you want to check it out. Listen to John Legend ‘all of me’ while reading if you want <3
❗️semi proof read❗️
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You were on sat on the couch as the triplets rushed around the house getting the equipment they needed to film the car video, all they had left to find was a battery because Nick once again forgot to charge the battery so they had to find a charged one to replace the dead battery before filming whilst also waiting for their food to arrive.  
“Y/N are you joining us for the video? Or can I be Matt’s passenger princess?” Chris joked as he made his way past her towards the kitchen to check their junk drawer for the spare battery.  
“Fuck where is it?” He muttered to himself as he rummaged through the drawer, unsuccessful in finding what he was looking for. The younger woman didn’t acknowledge her best friend at first, her head being buried in her phone, more specifically, looking at the comments on last Friday’s car video where she was having one of her more quiet days and the comments surely picked up on the sudden mood change compared to her yapping in the Wednesday video prior to the Friday car video. 
‘She needs to make up her mind, either be loud or be quiet Jesus Christ’ 
‘How do they put up with her? She’s so annoying’ 
‘Y/N needs to be more entertaining omg😭’ 
‘One day she’s quiet the next she won’t stfu, must be so annoying to the triplets, how do they like her??? Especially Matt??? Poor guy’ 
‘She’s such a weirdo, either being way too loud or way too quiet💀’ 
‘Y/N?? You with me kid?” Chris waved his hand in front of her face to grab her attention. 
“Hmm? Sorry Chris what did you say?” She replied to the older boy. As he was about to reply, the doorbell rang signaling the food had arrived, Matt came from his bedroom and made his way down the stairs to open the door and get the food, thanking the delivery driver as he closed the door. He came back up the stairs and placed the bag of McDonald’s on the kitchen table, sorting out who’s is who’s. 
“I was asking if you were coming to film with us?” she shook her head in response. 
“No, I’ll sit this one out, I think. Maybe just watch a film or have a shower and an early night.” 
Matt’s head turned in the direction of his girlfriend and brother as soon as he heard the words leave Y/N’s mouth, immediately sensing something was wrong. 
“You okay baby? You feeling good?” He asked, concern written all over his features, Matt made his way over to the Y/H/C girl with her usual McDonalds order of 9 chicken nuggets, medium fries and a peach iced tea. He placed her food on the table in front of her and quickly raised the back of his hand to her forehead, her temperature seemed fine to him. 
“Yeah, I’m okay Matt, I promise, I’m just tired you know I’ve had a busy day.” She explained, looking up at her boyfriend with a not very convincing smile on her face, not convincing to Matt anyway, he could read her like a book. 
Nick had found the battery, and the camera was now ready to set up in the car. 
“You coming you two?” He calls out to the couple while grabbing his food off the kitchen table. Chris doing the same and stood with the oldest triplet waiting for an answer. 
“Give us a minute Nick, you and Chris head to the car.” Matt replied, throwing his car keys in the direction of Chris which he smoothly caught. The brothers made their way downstairs to the garage to unlock the car. In the living room, Matt was now sat next to Y/N on the couch. He noticed a stray tear make it’s way down her cheek.
“Baby please just tell me what’s bothering you. It can’t be silly if it’s making you cry.” he stated as he wiped the stray tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. He looked over to her unlocked phone that had since been discarded on the table, he removed his hands from her face and picked her phone up, raising his eyebrows as if asking permission to look through the phone. She nodded in silent understanding. He looked at the illuminated screen and a frown immediately made its way onto his face, followed by a glare at some of the comments that his so called fans had left about the love of his life. 
“They hate me.” Y/N said dejectedly, biting her nails anxiously as Matt continued to read the comments. Matt sighed before he replied. 
“Oh baby. A few comments mean nothing okay my love, what matters is what you think and what I think, and I think you’re amazing just the way you are.” 
“But Matt it’s not just a few comments! It’s every other comment, either saying you must be annoyed by me, or I don’t deserve you or that I’m a weirdo all because I’m always either too loud or too quiet! I’ve always been made fun of because of it!” She replied frustrated, tears beginning to well up in her eyes yet again.  
Suddenly Matt placed her phone face down on the couch and grabbed her hand before leading her to his bathroom. He switched the light on and placed her in front of the mirror and rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. 
“See this woman in the mirror? She is the most perfect woman I have ever met, every little detail of her, from her freckles to her personality makes her even more perfect to me and I fall more in love with her every day.” He placed a trail of kisses leading from her shoulder up to her cheek before he loosened his hold on her waist to turn her so she was facing him before continuing.  
“Darling, you can’t let the things people who hide behind their screens tell you define you okay? It would break my heart to see their nasty words dim my princess’ light, okay? You are perfect to me, and that’s all that matters, okay? Not some bullshit random people on the internet say, they’re just jealous 12 year olds.” He joked, lightening the mood, causing a small smile to creep up on her face, he smiled at the sight.  
“There’s my favorite smile!” He exclaimed.  
He cupped her cheeks before speaking again.  
“Love, you have to remember if you ever feel like this again, is all of me loves all of you, okay? Always has and always will, you’re my favorite person and you being both loud and quiet balances me out perfectly, if I need a quiet and safe place you give that to me, or if I need to let off energy and be crazy, you go on all kinds of crazy adventures with me. I couldn’t be more thankful for you. I love you so much my angel.” 
“I love you too my love” she replied, happy tears now in her eyes as opposed to the sad and frustrated tears in her eyes not even 20 minutes ago. 
“What do you say, we go film the video with Nick and Chris, I want the better passenger princess next to me and not the one who burps 24/7 and looks like me” he joked, she let out a laugh at her boyfriend. 
“Sure, let’s go film. I wanna grab my food first though.” He nodded and the couple made their way into the living room to grab Y/N’s food before making their way down to the garage where they heard Nick and Chris arguing over something ridiculous, they both laughed at the pair. The two in the car noticed the couple stood in the doorway making their way to the car. Y/N got in the car while Matt remained outside, focusing the camera. Y/N threw a thumbs up to Matt as the camera was set up right. Chris gave Y/N a quick hug from the back seat before he spoke. 
“You good now kid?” He asked, she nodded and smiled back at him as Matt got in the car and pressed record. The four filming the video full of laughs and debates. Matt added in a little rant to the viewers on being nicer to Y/N and from that point forward, the hate comments had died down to the odd few from jealous fan girls. 
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babeyun · 20 days
Text
modus operandi ✩ enhypen (m.list)
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welcome to precinct seven! balancing the demands of justice with their own demons, the detectives must confront their pasts and navigate the blurred lines between right and wrong in a gripping tale of mystery, betrayal, and redemption.
✩ general warnings: !!SLOW BURN!! fluff, angst, possible suggestive themes/smut for hyungline but unlikely (and if so, it will be tagged individually.) darker/heavy themes (descriptive mentions of crimes.) warnings for individual fics vary, please read them accordingly before proceeding.
✩ series playlist: modus operandi ✩ enhypen [spotify + ongoing]
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✩ starry night - yang jungwon ✩
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✩ synopsis: your favorite constellation is cassiopeia, and you talk about it as often as you can. what you don't realize is that your eyes hold all the stars, and jungwon sees that more than anyone.
✩ pairing: detective!yjw x delivery driver!reader
✩ genre: acquaintances to lovers | idiots to lovers.
✩ read here!
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✩ falling alone - lee heeseung ✩
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✩ synopsis: cold cases were heeseung's specialty, and he cracked every single one. cold hearts were your specialty, and you have yet to make a single chip in your husband's.
✩ pairing: lieutenant!lhs x housewife!reader
✩ genre: established relationship to ??? | opposites attract.
✩ read here!
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✩ speed drive - park jongseong ✩
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✩ synopsis: meeting you is like looking in a mirror of what could have been, who he could have been. it doesn't help that your passion runs deep, deeper than his love for his job.
✩ pairing: detective!pjs x clandestine racer!reader
✩ genre: fated lovers | star-crossed lovers.
✩ read here!
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✩ easy, kitty - sim jaeyun ✩
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✩ synopsis: after years of being referred to as a white whale by your respective detectives and being poorly sought after by single (and...not-so-single) suitors in your department, you're rescued by sim jaeyun - only for information in return.
✩ pairing: detective!sjy x bookkeeper!reader
✩ genre: fake dating au | unrequited love.
✩ read here!
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✩ radio silence - park sunghoon ✩
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✩ synopsis: in which you break sunghoon's heart just a little bit more every time you ask him to help you run background checks on any of the suitors on your roster.
✩ pairing: private investigator!psh x radio host!reader
✩ genre: former friends with benefits to ??? | childhood sweethearts.
✩ read here!
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✩ dilemmas & desires - kim sunoo ✩
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✩ synopsis: kim sunoo was by far your biggeset opponent - both in and out of the court room. he fought his way to the top, and you hated coming in second to his wins...much like you hated being second priority to his studies when you dated in law school.
✩ pairing: attorney!ksn x attorney!reader
✩ genre: rivals to lovers | second chance romance.
✩ read here!
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✩ first impressions - riki nishimura ✩
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✩ synopsis: first impressions are everything - so when riki spills coffee all over you the first time you meet, it's safe to say you're not very fond of him...right?
✩ pairing: rookie detective!riki x rookie detective!reader
✩ genre: coworkers to lovers | mutual pining.
✩ read here!
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author's notes: special thanks to @enhaeven for encouraging me to write this series. i wouldn't be doing this without you, and thank you for always thinking of me and believing in me. i love you! ♡
author's note pt.2: none of these stories are meant to romanticize criminal activity and i do not encourage breaking the law. keep your buffoonery at a minimum. thanks!
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babeyun © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.
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