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chosok-amo · 3 months

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DADDY'S CAR: NANAMI KENTO

he was in his mid thirties when he became your stepfather while you were in your mid twenties— he's marrying your mother who's a few years older than him. one day you decided to steal his car for a while until he finds you and that's the start of your life becoming more interesting.

warning content: non-sorcerer nanami!, public / outdoor sex, unprotected sex, daddykink

“hurry up! let’s go!” you shouted, giggling under your breath. “he’ll never know we took the car, so don’t worry about it.” nobara, your childhood friend asked, “are you sure?” wanting to make sure that you wouldn’t get into trouble. “what if kento finds out?” nobara knew that her little friend, you, didn’t always think things through, allowing adrenaline to fuel her decisions and she often paid the price for her behavior. “yeah, I’m sure,” you replied, excitement lighting up your face. “he’s not even home from work for another hour and we’ll be back long before then.”

with that, the two girls threw open the side door to your sprawling home, and walked out to the shiny black Ferrari that sat safely in the garage. the hardtop convertible was breathtaking with its sporty front end and wraparound rear window, hugged by two flying buttresses. both of you filled the air with wild laughter as you jumped into the driver’s seat and nobara quickly slid into the passenger side. “oh my God, this is so hot!” you exclaimed, running your tiny hands over the thick black leather steering wheel. you grinned at nobara, before slipping the gear into drive. the car bolted out of the parking garage, and nobara squealed with excitement and fear.

“slow down!” she shouted above the loud music floating through the car. you paid no attention, whipping out of the long paved driveway onto the curvy road that led to the freeway. you were in your zone, joyriding in your step daddy’s car, with no care in the world. the girls whipped around corners, flying over a steep slope before the car roughly settled back down on the ground. you flicked the blinker on to the right, and turned onto the open highway. you flicked a switch and the hardtop roof began to collapse in perfect orchestration.

the two were now flying down the highway, the wind whipping their hair, as you increased your speed. it didn’t take long before they saw the familiar turnoff that led to the local pizza joint, and you turned the car quickly as its engine roared. “holy shit!” nobara screeched as the car came to a halt. “This car is amazing!” you laughed at your friend’s expression. nobara’s hair was blown out and she looked wild and dangerous.

you weren’t a stranger to joyriding in your step daddy’s car. since he married your mother a few months ago, you've been sneaking off in it every chance you got. you knew your stepfather would freak out if he ever knew, but you couldn’t resist. the vibrations under you, the music pounding in your ears and the wind blowing in your face was far too tempting to ignore. so far, your new step daddy hadn’t found out and you grinned to yourself at what a clever girl you were, making sure it was put back in the very same spot and that it always had the same amount of gas as when he left it.

“well, i’ll be damned!” a voice shouted from behind the car. the two turned their heads to see yuji walking slowly up to the driver’s side, running his hand over the cars backend. “someone’s going to be in trouble.” yuji was impressed. he always thought you was a daring one, but to steal your new stepfather’s car was a whole other story. “damn girl, you’ve got some balls.” you laughed. “well, hey there has to be some perks to my mother marrying a practical stranger,” you said thinking about just how ridiculous it was that your mother married yet another guy after only knowing him for a few weeks.

yuji grinned. “don’t like him much, huh?”

“he’s okay,” you replied nonchalantly. “I don’t know how long he’ll be around for with mom’s track record but hey, I’m enjoying it while it lasts.” you had been dating yuji for a few weeks now and he was anxious to see his girl handle such a powerful beast. “jump in the back, nobara,” he said. “i want to see my baby handle this beast the way she handles me.” yuji chuckled as nobara snarled at her friend. “you’re disgusting,” she replied, climbing into the back seat. she looked around waiting for yuji to get in front when she noticed a couple of friends walking into the pizza parlour.

“hey, maki!” she yelled, trying to get her friends attention. “y/n, you mind if I hang back here for a bit?” you smiled, anxious for some alone time with yuji. “not a bit,” you replied and waited for your friend to get out, “i’ll pick you back up in 20.” nobara got out of the car and waved to her friend, “see you in a few.” you glanced at yuji before hitting reverse. “you ready?” you asked, with a little wink. “you bet,” yuji replied as he slid his hand over your left thigh, “let’s go, baby.” you spun out of the parking lot, back onto the freeway. you sped down the road as yuji banged along to the music.

“want to go down to the beach?” you asked, switching lanes in preparation for the exit. you knew yuji had the same thing on his mind. “mmm yeah, let’s go,” yuji winked as he squeezed your thigh a little tighter. you drove through the exit until you came to the beach entrance. you pushed on the gas and the car roared down the tiny, narrow road. before too long you were down by the water and you quickly found a spot in the bare parking lot, just a few feet from the shore. yuji reached over and pulled you close, his arms snuggled around your shoulders.

“i missed you today,” he whispered as he pushed his lips hard against yours. “mmm, I missed you too,” you replied, feeling the warmth of his kiss. you bit lightly on his ear, your tongue making small swirls around his earlobe and down his neck. “god, I want to fuck you in this car,” he groaned, turned on by the hot little girl that was busy nibbling on his neck, and the sleek car that engulfed them.

“then fuck me,” you replied, lifting away from yuji long enough to pull up your tight pink t-shirt. yuji shook his head with desire as yours budding tits peeked out from your little bra. “you’re so damn hot,” he mused, sliding his hand over your chest, squeezing her tits together. “get this off,” he breathed, tugging at the clasp on your bra. The material gave way and you let it fall from your shoulders. “mmm…” yuji moaned, as he lowered his face to your chest. he flicked his tongue over your nipples as you threw your head back and groaned.

“i want you so badly,” you replied, pushing your breasts harder into yuji’s open mouth. with the hardtop still down, you were completely exposed to anyone who came wandering by and the thought only turned yuji on even more. “let’s get in the back.” you nodded and climbed over the leather seat into the back. you lay down with you head resting comfortable on the armrest, you small round ass firmly planted on the seat. yuji climbed into the backseat and lay on top of you.

you ran your fingers through his hair, as you kissed deeply. your breath was hard and fast as you hungrily slid your tongue deep into yuji’s mouth. “you’re pretty horny, huh?” he chuckled, running his hands down the sides of your ass, squeezing your hips tightly. “you want me to fuck you?” he asked, already knowing the answer. he had only been dating you for a few weeks now and you already fucked half a dozen times. you was a nymphomaniac and could never seem to get enough of his cock. yuji had no complaints.

“yeah, fuck me now,” you purred in a voice barely above a whisper. “i want to feel your hard cock inside of me.” yuji sucked in his breath, as he felt his cock harden in his jeans. you turned him on more than anyone before you, and he couldn’t wait to spread your legs and fuck you. he pulled away from you to unzip your jeans. you lifted your hips to help him, and he slid them off easily. you lay in nothing but your little pink panties, dotted with small red hearts. Yuji grinned at how incredibly hot you looked, with “fuck me” painted across your face. he sat up on his knees, reading to take off his own pants when he heard a roar above him.

“just what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” the voice boomed from behind. you scrambled to sit up, grabbing your t-shirt quickly and pressing it against your bare chest trying to shield your naked body from the trespasser. you squinted in the sunlight to see the shadowy figure walking quickly up to the driver’s side of the car.

“oh my god!” you shrieked, realizing that it was your stepfather, nanami. you pushed yuji away, as you struggled to re-dress. “he’s pissed!” nanami quickly approached the car, red faced and angry. “what the hell are you doing?” he shouted, his fists clenched tightly. he looked down at his stepdaughter and her boyfriend, in disgust and quickly stepped back as he noticed his daughter half-dressed. “you have got to be fucking kidding,” he huffed. “It’s not bad enough that you steal my car but you’re actually fucking in it? Are you serious?”

you didn’t know what to do. you sat frozen in place, staring up at your step daddy, terrified that he would tell your mother and you’d be grounded all summer. “i’m sorry,” was all you could muster in response. Yuji jumped out of the car, opposite from nanami and put his hands up in the air. “i had nothing to do with this, man,” he said backing away from the car, “she already had the car when I saw her at the pizza joint.” you shook your head in disgust at how quickly yuji threw you under the bus. what a dick’ you thought.

nanami nodded slowly, staring straight at yuji. “get the fuck out of here,” he said, with a warning. yuji scrambled backwards, walking away from the car mouthing the words “sorry”. he shrugged at you before turning away. nanami watched the kid jog off, in a cloud of fury. he swiftly turned towards you. “you’re a class act,” he stormed, his voice filled with anger. “nothing more than a spoiled little fucking brat.” you recoiled, clutching your t-shirt closer to your chest. you hadn’t even put it back on yet. instead, you felt glued to your seat unable to move.

“i’m really sorry,” you said, giving him your very best pout. It worked on the other guys, you thought. why not nanami? he wasn’t buying it. “yeah, you’ll be sorry,” he replied. “when your mother finds out, you’ll be sorry all summer.” you winced. your mother would freak out if she knew you took nanami’s car without permission, especially since she already warned you that you needed to be on your best behavior around nanami. god forbid if anyone knew that you had a wild streak.

“go ahead, tell her,” you challenged him, your expression quickly changing from sadness to anger. “who cares? i’ll do whatever i want to do, whether you or my mother likes it or not.” you glared at nanami, waiting for his response. he stood in silence, analyzing the young girl. “so, you’re a feisty one, huh?” he responded, his eyes softening. you rolled your eyes, no longer concerned about what nanami told your mother. you had just turned eighteen and you had plans to move out soon anyway.

“whatever,” you replied looking away from nanami. “like I said, tell my mother if you want to. I don’t care.” nanami said nothing. Instead, he opened the driver’s side door and climbed in. he adjusted the rear view mirror so that your face was centered square in the middle, and started the engine. the loud groan of the engine bucked underneath them and you twisted you body to the side, your t-shirt still clutched tightly against your chest. you couldn’t lift it over your head without exposing your breasts to nanami who stared at you through the rear view mirror.

shrugging, no longer caring what he saw, you lifted it up carefully, your tits exposed. “now, now,” nanami quickly responded. “not so fast. if you want to drive my car, you’ll have to give me something in return.” you paused from pulling your t-shirt over your head, and looked back at him through the mirror. your mind raced as you thought about how attractive your step daddy was and how this might actually work out in your favor. you smiled playfully, and lowered your t-shirt back down to your waist, sitting quietly in place, your budding breasts glistening in the light of the sun.

“what exactly do you want in return?” you asked, toying with nanami as you saw the dark look of lust washed over his face as he took you in, naked from the waist up. nanami sat still, his back still turned to you. he glanced up at you through the mirror again and smiled, before kicking the car into drive and driving out into a side road, away from the beach. he said nothing to her until he pulled the car down a narrow path, just a few minutes away from where they were. you looked out through the side of the car, the breeze blowing hard against your chest.

you didn’t recognize this part of the beach but it was obvious that nanami knew where he was going. he pulled into a small road that led down to a secluded area of the beach, and shifted the car in park. you felt your heart beating fast and hard in your chest. you were excited and at the same time you were nervous of what nanami had in mind, but you sat still waiting for him to speak. he turned sideways in the driver’s seat, his arm swinging over the leather, and looked back at you.

“take off those panties,” he instructed before opening the driver’s side door and stepping out. you sucked in your breath. nanami was a nice looking man but he was much older and far more experienced than you were. you felt your skin flush with heat and you looked at nanami intently, barely moving. “did you hear me?” he responded, his eyes wild with hunger.

“get undressed.”

you nodded, keeping your eyes locked on him. you pushed your t-shirt to the side and lifted up your hips, sliding off your little heart shaped panties. you sat there, timid and shy with your legs closely tightly together. nanami looked at the young girl as you awaited his command. without words, he opened the back door to the car commanded you to get out of the car. you sucked in your breath, as your body tingled with nervousness. nanami waited patiently as you slowly got up out of the car, covering both breasts with you arms.

“now isn’t the time to be shy,” he grinned.

“you sure weren’t this timid when it came to stealing my car now were you?” you looked down at her feet, unsure of what to say.

“I’m really sorr…”

“save it,” nanami replied sternly. “I don’t want to hear another word of it.” you nodded, still looking down at the ground. “get on your knees,” he commanded, as he unbuckled his jeans and pulled the long leather strap out and away from him. He threw it into the open backseat of the car. you knelt down on the white sand, and placed your hands on your knees. you looked up at nanami, and his lips curled up in delight at just how sweet and innocent you looked. but nanami knew better. you were anything but innocent and it was time you was taught a lesson.

nanami stepped a few feet towards you, positioning himself so that his thick, hard cock was just inches from your pouty mouth. you looked up, your eyes widening in surprise at how big nanami’s cock was. you hadn’t seen one so big and thick before. you gulped in nervousness. “have you ever sucked a cock before?” nanami asked, looking down at the top of your little head. you looked up at him with big beautiful eyes, and slowly nodded.

“yes,” you whispered.

“i can’t hear you,” nanami responded, pulling on your hair, gathering in his fists. he yanked on it gently, so that you looked straight up at him. “do you know how to suck cock?” you nodded, your thick black eyelashes fluttering. “i have done it before.” you said.

he nodded and instructed you further.

“open your mouth and suck it,” he commanded, pushing his cock towards your pouty lips. you struggled to squeeze his cock into your pretty mouth. It was so thick and heavy, and you found yourself choking as you tried to suck harder and harder. you took control, pulling his cock out of your mouth and rubbing it all over your lips. “kiss the tip of my cock,” he instructed, as the little girls tongue flickered over the swollen head of his cock. you pursed your lips together and kissed the head of nanami’s cock. you hadn’t done it quite like this before and you tried your best to make him happy, sucking and licking the head and running your tongue up and down his shaft.

“ahh,” nanami moan. “that’s it. that’s a good little girl.”

nanami grabbed your hair again, clenching handfuls of hair in his fist. with a free hand, he began stroking his cock, forcing it into your mouth. “open wider,” he said as he rammed his cock into your throat. “suck my cock.” you felt your mouth oozing with saliva as nanami forced his cock deep into your throat. you gagged, trying desperately to pull your head back but nanami forced it down again, watching closely as you struggled to suck and lick like a big girl.

he watched as your mouth bobbed up and down on his cock, your perky little tits pressing up against his leg as he forced his cock into your slippery throat. his dick felt so good that he had to force himself to slow down by squeezing on his shaft. you stopped sucking, and slowed down, running your lips along the edge of his shaft as you looked up at him innocently.

“is that okay?” you asked with the sweet voice of a little virgin who had sucked a man’s cock for the very first time. but as much as he wished, you were certainly not a virgin, although he knew that you had never felt a cock quite a thick as his. and he was anxious to spread you open and fuck this little doll. he pulled you into a standing position, spinning you around so that you stood back to.

“spread your legs,” he commanded, pushing your legs apart so he could stand between them. he pushed your shoulders forward so that your flat stomach lay against the car, your ass pointed out towards him. you fingers went to your mouth, and you sucked on your fingertip, as you looked back at nanami. you felt your pussy get hot and wet with anticipation. the idea of your new daddy fucking your tight little pussy drove you over the edge and you suddenly had a hunger for him that you never felt before.

“are you going to fuck me, daddy?” you asked in your best little girl voice. nanami felt his cock throb, as he looked over at his little princess. your ass was so tiny and your body was still developing. the sight of your tiny frame made his cock grow even harder. nanami reached down and squeezed your little ass, making you squeal.

“i’m so sorry I stole your car,” you whined, knowing you was about to be punished.

“you’re such a little slut, y/n,” nanami replied, turning away from you so that your ass was tucked into his left arm. “you can’t take daddy’s car without asking. do you understand?” you nodded, your fingertips still in your mouth. you looked afraid of what was about to happen, but you hard little nipples revealed just how hot you really were. nanami held your hips tightly against his side, and swatted your right ass cheek.

“ohh, daddy!” you cried. “that hurt!”

nanami ran his hand over your ass to relieve the sting, before swatting it again. “are you going to ask daddy before you take my car again?” he asked, his throbbing cock pushing against your leg. “yes, daddy,” you nodded. “i promise I’ll be a good girl.” nanami ran both of his big hands over your ass, soothing it gently.

“That’s my good little girl,” he replied. he twisted around so that he was directly behind you and pushed you down onto the car. “but daddy needs his little girl to show him just how sorry she really is,” he said, rubbing the tip of his cock into your smooth pussy. you moaned. “yes, daddy,” you said in a tiny whisper. you spread your legs so that nanami could push his cock deeper into your tight little pussy. nanami groaned, feeling your little girl cunt struggle to open up enough to fit his cock in. it was so tight and wet, and he had trouble squeezing into you.

“your pussy is so tight,” he breathed, feeling your pussy wrap around his cock, “feel so nice and tight.” you moaned. he made you feel hot, and you suddenly felt your pussy get wetter than ever before. “ohh, daddy,” you breathed not knowing what was happening to your body. you had sex with a boy before, you thought, but it never felt anything like this before. nanami was just so big. you trembled, your skin glistening with sweat.

“daddy, my pussy feels soooo good!”

“that’s a good girl,” nanami moaned, watching as his thick cock slid in and out of the tiny hole. he spread her ass cheeks, and pulled her closer to his body, as he pumped her little pussy in smooth, steady strokes. “baby, i want you to play with your clit for me, could you that for me?” nanami kept pushing in and out of your bare little snatch, as you slid your hand down to your clit. “rub your little clit, y/n,” nanami instructed. you did as your stepdaddy ordered, rubbing your small clit with the flat of your fingertips. you moaned with delight.

“i love playing with my little pussy,” you whispered, rubbing wet circles over your clit. nanami pumped harder, knowing you was about to cum and wanting to push his sperm deep into your little belly at the same time. “you’re making daddy feel so good, baby,” he panted, as he felt his balls tighten and his cock surge. “i want you to cum in my little pussy,” you said in a voice barely above a whisper. nanami’s cock pounded into your little pussy, and he knew he was seconds away from exploding. he increased the rhythm, sliding his entire cock into your precious cunt.

“ow! come inside my little pussy, daddy!” you begged your stepdaddy. “i want to feel it!” nanami couldn’t hold off any longer. you were pushing hard against his cock, and he couldn’t believe how much your little cunt could take. you rubbed your pink slit furiously, and he felt your little body quiver beneath him. “i’m coming, daddy!” you screamed unable to control what was happening to your body. your breath was frantic and you pushed harder and harder against him. nanami bucked against her in deep strokes and his cum exploded into your pussy.

“Ahh!” he groaned, filling his shaft emptying inside of you. he drew back, clutching onto the side of the car as he felt the dizzy aftershock of his orgasm. your chest heaved as you gasped for breath. your face was flushed in heat, and your skin soaked with sweat. “nanami?” you whispered, as you sat down on the sand, feeling your legs buckling beneath you.

nanami gasped, his breath heavy. “yes?”

“that felt so good,” you replied, a bright wide grin on your little mouth.

nanami nodded with a smile.

“u think you and I are going to get along just fine,” he said before gathering his jeans from the backseat.

“get dressed. we have to get home before your mother begins to wonder where you are.” nanami held out his hands to help his little girl get up on her feet. you beamed, excited about the idea of what was to come. your new daddy wasn’t so bad after all, you thought, as you redressed and slid into the passenger seat.

“wait,” you replied, clicking the door shut and pulling the seatbelt over her shoulder. “how did you find me at the beach?” nanami looked at you with a mischievous grin. “do you really think I’d leave the keys to my car hanging on the hook in the den if I didn’t want them to be found?

“you mean, you left them there on purpose knowing I’d take your car?” you asked, confused. “you were always so predictable”, nanami replied, giving you a little wink. “but how did you find me?” you asked. “don’t worry about that”, nanami replied grinning. “but next time, just remember that if you take something from me, i take something from you.” you giggled. so, your stepfather liked to play games, you thought. let’s see what he does when I borrow his Platinum Mastercard.

nanami pushed the gas pedal and the car raced over the bumpy landscape, leaping towards the highway. having a new stepdaughter might not be such a bad thing after all, he thought as he turned up the music.

whe song Secret Lovers blared through the speakers, and they laughed together.

what a perfect song for a perfect day.

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vintageclassiccars · 9 months

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Toyota 2000 GT.

The Toyota 2000GT is a limited-production front mid-engine, rear-wheel-drive, two-door, two-seat sports car/grand tourer designed by Toyota in collaboration with Yamaha. First displayed to the public at the Tokyo Motor Show in 1965, the 2000GT was manufactured under contract by Yamaha between 1967 and 1970.

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eurotrip · 9 months

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1966 Ferrari 365 P Berlinetta Speciale 4.4 litre V12

Although Ferrari was the first to win the F1 World Championship in the 60s with a mid-engined car, Enzo Ferrari was hesitant to offer road-going versions of these racers, particularly those powered by the big V12 engines. Sergio Pininfarina did see the potential of road going Ferrari with the trademark V12 mounted behind the driver. Although Ferrari was still not convinced, prominent Ferrari clients Luigi Chinetti and Gianni Agnelli were very interested and Pininfarina set about creating a spectacular new mid-engined Ferrari for the 1966 Paris Auto Show.

Ferrari provided the underpinnings for the new car, which were derived directly from the sports 330 P2 sports cars that raced at Le Mans. While these were powered by the latest twin-cam engines, they were usually re-fitted with a slightly larger, single-cam V12 when sold to customers like Chinetti. It was this 365 P specification that was also used for the new Pininfarina project.

The nose incorporated many familiar Ferrari/Pininfarina cues like the covered headlights and the egg-crate grill. At the rear, the 365 P featured the same buttresses that were found on the 1965 Dino show car. What really set the 365 P apart was its three-seater configuration with the driver placed in the middle, slightly forward of the passengers. This was made possible due to the lack of a transmission tunnel, which gave the car a flat floor. The central driving position also added a real single seater (Formula 1) feel to the car. To get in and out of the car more easily, the driver seat swivelled to the left, away from the gearshift lever. The unusual interior was clearly visible through the enormous glass roof fitted to the car. Finished in white, and dubbed the 'Tre Posti' for obvious reasons, the spectacular new show car made its debut at the 1966 Paris Auto Salon. It was subsequently shown at several more events around the world before being sold to its first owner in the United States through Luigi Chinetti.

#ferrari 365 #berlinetta #ferrari #exotic car #dream car #sportscar #supercar #hypercar #luxury car #classic car #vintage car #muscle car #muscle cars #musclecar #musclecars #classic #vintage #aesthetic #aesthetics

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wheelsgoroundincircles · 8 months

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1967 Ford Mustang

The 1967 model year Mustang was the first significant redesign of the original model. Ford's designers began drawing up a larger version even as the original was achieving sales success, and while "Iacocca later complained about the Mustang's growth, he did oversee the redesign for 1967 ."The major mechanical feature was to allow the installation of a big-block V8 engine. The overall size, interior and cargo space were increased. Exterior trim changes included concave taillights, side scoop (1967 model) and chrome (1968 model) side ornamentation, square rear-view mirrors, and usual yearly wheel and gas cap changes. The high-performance 289 option was placed behind the newer 335 hp (250 kW; 340 PS) 390 cu in (6.4 L) FE engine from the Ford Thunderbird, which was equipped with a four-barrel carburetor. During the mid-1968 model year, a drag racer for the street could be ordered with the optional 428 cu in (7.0 L) Cobra Jet engine which was officially rated at 335 hp (250 kW; 340 PS) all of these Mustangs were issued R codes on their VINs.

#ford mustang #car #cars #muscle car #american muscle #ford #classic car

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dilftaroooo · 9 months

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݁ ִ ࣪⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ "𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡 "

ﾟ𐦍༘⋆ after some convincing i finally decided to write this nasty lil imagine or whatever this shit is, enjoy, mwah~ (p.s. for the native spanish speaking girlies, pls lmk if i fucked up on anything)

ﾟ𐦍༘⋆ wrd count: 2.2k+

ﾟ𐦍༘⋆ tags/tw: mdni 18+ race/ethnicity neutral + age gap (reader can be from 18 to early 20s! so college aged) + dilf!miguel (mid to late 30s) + don’t trust him he’s using u!!! + afab reader + sweet nothings + spanish petnames + cursing + unprotected sex + miguel is a perv + exhibitionism(?) + expensive cars + money + and big booty bitches (you).

Just thinking of you stumbling upon dilf!miguel as you go by door to door offering to wash peoples’ cars for a few bucks. You weren’t expecting a behemoth to be behind the tall, mahogany, double doors to answer your languid knocks – a handsome one at that. One that stood six-nine feet tall paired with honey drizzled orbs surrounded by hooded lids. Soft tufts of hair shimmered burgundy with silver specks which were gifted to him from prolonged time. His tan skin brightened under the powerful sun but it still wasn’t enough to obscure the fine forehead wrinkles and smile lines that adorned his features.

“Can I help you?” The deep baritone of his voice rumbled so deeply you wouldn’t be surprised if you were to look down and see the bucket of soapy water you brought ripple at its force. It should be you that’s supposed to be helping him. You’re the one going from neighborhood to neighborhood asking uninterested people to wash their cars for some cash that wouldn’t even last you a few days. But a side hustle is a side hustle, you thought. Nothing wrong with a stash for a rainy day.

You take note of how seductively the black wife beater he wore embraced his torso and how his pecs puffed out at you like some majestic penguin in the cool lands of Antarctica, staring down at you, a piece of flopping fish dreading to be eaten as he cocks his head to the side waiting for a response. His shoulders are broad and his muscles are taut and veiny – you ponder on what his reaction would be if you were to trace his veins from his neck down to his finger tips and tell him how badly you want them inside you. Gulping down the saliva that was building up on top of your tongue, you spoke your first words like a toddler.

“Would you, um-” Why couldn’t you finish your sentence on the first try? Did you forget how to speak English? Perhaps that’s only the case around him and a few other gorgeous people you’ve met in the span of your years living on earth. “Do you need to have your car washed – sir? I can wash it for fifteen.” You sounded so weak and frail to Miguel, just like how most college-aged girls sounded when they managed to have some sort of interaction with him – their hands clasped firmly around their elbow as they sway from side-to-side, asking him frivolous questions before poking their chest to get him to catch a glimpse of their cleavage that peeked out from their low cut tops. They all played the same game – a game he always loved to play.

He takes this moment to observe what you had on; a peach colored camisole that matched the flower placed delicately in your hair along with the daisy dukes that revealed your plump thighs. Not too skimpy. At least you were somewhat modest. A cute, weak, little thing you are.

He grins and you can see his crows feet crinkle at the gesture, his canines looking sharper than most. “Of course. Been a while since I’ve gotten her cleaned up.” He reassures you to wait for him as he gets his car from the garage and when you lay eyes on the ‘Ferrari SF90 Spider’ he displayed to you, your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. It was a car model that you couldn’t even afford to dream of, glowing a dark navy blue with a rear wing that was coated in a vibrant red. Its engine roaring loudly and aggressively, telling you who the alpha is in the midst of asphalt concrete and dotted yellow lines. Miguel twitched at the gasp you couldn’t contain.

“A-are you sure you want me to wash this?” You ask while ogling at the car parked in front of you. This wasn’t a car some teenager bought with the aid of their low minimum wage job at a department store, this was a sports car – a Ferrari! This was something that should be washed professionally. “I’m no expert car washer or whatever those guys are called. As much as I would love to help you I don’t think I’m fit for something so…luxurious.” He lets out an airy chuckle that kisses your eardrums.

“No worries, cariño.” He would say and it makes your heart tremble and thighs clench. You’re not proficient in Spanish. Only remembering the fundamentals you learned when you were still in grade school and several language apps you’ve downloaded on a whim but you heard that word before in several love songs you’ve come across. ‘Darling’ is what it means. An affectionate pet name.

Miguel drinks up your reaction like drinking water in the Sahari desert. It was the last drop left in a flask that was so kindly offered by you, smiling at him with dry lips as he sticks his tongue out, aching for the pure droplet. You were so considerate – not wanting to risk destroying his five hundred-thousand plus car that he deliberately squandered his money on. But it was ok with Miguel. He always has money to spare.

He finally convinced you to do the job and get his vehicle all cleaned up and tidy. You instantly got to work but not before murmuring a sugary ‘thank you’’ and taking your sponge to the roof of his car. You and Miguel would conjure up some small talk such as your hobbies or careers. You’ve learned that he was a father of a little girl named Gabriella. His ‘sweet sunshine’ is what he would call her. You found that attractive – a father who is willing to take care of their offspring with genuine affection. His wife must be lucky…well, if he had one she would be, you think.

Miguel didn’t go deep into explanation at his lack of a spouse. A typical “It just wasn’t meant to be.” fell from his lips as he looked off to the direction of his house. Sensitive topic, maybe. Which is why he decided to shine the light on you. “You’re in college, right? Anyone there sweep you off your feet?”

All of a sudden, you feel coy. Embarrassed and bashful at your answer being a firm “no, there has not, Mr. O’Hara.” There’s a slight quiver in your voice but Miguel can tell that you’re trying to remain neutral and not break into tiny pieces under his watchful gaze. And just like every man thinks when they see an attractive young woman who claims they don’t have a partner, he asks why – why hasn’t anyone stepped up to you and asked for your number in hopes for a date? Why hasn’t anyone paid for your meals at semi-expensive restaurants? Why hasn’t anyone told you they loved you more than anyone they could ever imagine before clasping their hands under your chin, gazing at soft, plump lips before pressing them onto theirs? Why hasn’t anyone dared to run mischievous fingers up the hem of your dress before tasting the sensual keen you let out due to the fingertip teasing your throbbing clit?

Then Miguel remembers there’s a difference between boys and men.

You would notice how sinful Miguel’s gaze is on you. Like a stray cat preparing to pounce on a small alley mouse, the feline waiting as patience is his best friend. The mouse is aware of the cat’s presence and stiffens like a rock. “I just haven’t found the right, uh, time. Though, I would like to…” You try your best to conceal your face, you felt as though he was staring too hard. Miguel adjusts his stance to be directly next to you and you smell his scent – like masculinity, vetiver, and sweat. Your knees buckle.

Then the cat sluggishly leaned in on its prey, familiarizing itself of the little mouse’s smell. “No time for it, huh, amor? Guess pretty girls are too busy for romance, what a shame,” His tsks were faux but they still made you feel bad however you didn’t have the time to empathize with his breath streaming down the curve of your neck and his hand caressing your waist. His hips were practically against your lower back as a result of his staggering height and you can feel his bulge poke you excitedly. “Who will I have to love me at night? It gets so cold sometimes.”

Finally that cat strikes, working its fangs in the fragile neck of the weak mouse. With hands firmly planted on the hood of his sports car, your shorts were practically ripped away from you as Miguel takes its place with his big hand, digits rubbing over the cotton fabric of your panties at the direct spot your swollen clit lays, aching and pulsing for his attention. Your back was securely glued to his chest as he loses his patience and rudely shoves your panties to the side, pushing back your clitorial hood with a skilled finger to hear you squeak like said mouse under the grip of the fervent cat.

“Mr. O’Hara. We can’t. Not out here.” The words exhale from your lips so elegantly as you try to prevent Miguel’s free hand from lifting up your loose camisole top above your breasts, to no avail. They glistened under UV rays and sweat, your areolas were puffy and craved Miguel’s assertive touch. You both were out in the open driveway of his home with dozens of other beautiful houses encasing the area yet there was no one in sight but people still had windows they could look out from. Everyone looks out their window from time to time, right? Maybe not unless they hear the muffled moans and wet squelches coming from outside to which they wouldn’t be able to contain their curiosity and feel compelled to take a quick peek between their blinds only to be met with their hot neighbor ramming the living daylights out of some young woman they’ve never seen before.

Both rocking in harmony as you relish in the filthy pleasure you are both given. The suds from the soapy water covers the expanse of your tummy and forearms as you feel Miguel abuse your guts with the hard tip of his reddened cock. Filling you like a hand in a latex glove, you feel so full, so stuffed, so cramped with all of his veins and precum as he grips a hand around your neck like your favorite, pink, choker – reminding you of oh how dumb you sound taking his dick like the ‘buena puta’ you were made to be. His trimmed, pubic hairs tickled your ass each time he plunged his way back in you after teasing you lightly whenever he pulled out to the head.

“Ay Dios, amor. You’re clenching around me so tightly. You aren’t gonna let me go? Want me to cum in your filthy, young, pussy out here in the middle of my driveway? Have you any decency? Mierda.” He would groan in the shell of your ear. His canines brush against the skin softly and you bite your lip for the fourth time that afternoon as he continued to have his way with you.

“I do,” You pathetically start. “I do have some, ugh, decency, sir. I do.”

“But you’re not showing that to me, love. That isn’t what I see here now, is it? Is this the same girl talking to me while she lets me stuff her full with my cock, hm?” The tap-tap-tapping of his thighs colliding with yours crescendos into a louder pitch, one much more noticeable than a few minutes ago and you wish you could cover yourself with an invisible cloak. He kisses his wet kisses and speaks his sweet nothings as he hovers over your small, mouse-like, appearance with his hulking form. It would have scared you if not for the pecks he left on your body and the conjuring of soft coos he knows you would like to hear.

It was too hot, metaphorically and literally. The sun was blazing and the combination of both of your body heat was not ideal for this kind of weather but Miguel just looks so good fondling your tits and pumping his warm seed into the wet cavern of your insides while he slurs out cursed spanish phrases from his tongue that you couldn’t even bother to pick up, too busy savoring the spurts of cum leaking in your used cunt.

Fortunately, in the middle of your fucked-out daze, Miguel was nice enough to pull the panties and shorts back in their reserved spots (you felt his cum pile up in your underwear as soon as he lifted them up and you shivered at the feeling). You feel something wiggle its way between your hip and the hem of your shorts just for you to look down and catch sight of the wads of cash he stuffed there like you were some cheap whore (perhaps you were).

You glance back up, getting ready to tell him it was only fifteen dollars but he beats you to it by giving you a quick peck on your cheek. It was softer compared to when he was balls deep inside of you.

“Take it. For being so good to me, corazón.” His crow’s feet appear again and you silently wish to give each line a kiss but it was already too late once he turned around and stepped foot into his house, locking his door shut with a loud ‘click’.

©This work belongs to @dilftaroooo. If you see any work similar to mine, please notify me for plagiarism will not be tolerated.

#miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #astv miguel #tw: age gap

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the-handsome-stranger · 5 months

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THE GREAT SEA STORY

The passenger steamer SS Warrimoo was quietly knifing its way through the waters of the mid-Pacific on its way from Vancouver to Australia. The navigator had just finished working out a star fix and brought Captain John DS. Phillips, the result. The Warrimoo's position was LAT 0º 31' N and LONG 179 30' W. The date was 31 December 1899.

"Know what this means?"

First Mate Payton broke in, "We're only a few miles from the intersection of the Equator and the International Date Line". Captain Phillips was prankish enough to take full advantage of the opportunity for achieving the navigational freak of a lifetime.

He called his navigators to the bridge to check & double check the ship's position. He changed course slightly so as to bear directly on his mark. Then he adjusted the engine speed. The calm weather & clear night worked in his favor. At mid-night the SS Warrimoo lay on the Equator at exactly the point where it crossed the International Date Line!

The consequences of this bizarre position were many:

The forward part (bow) of the ship was in the Southern Hemisphere & in the middle of summer.

The rear (stern) was in the Northern Hemisphere & in the middle of winter.

The date in the aft part of the ship was 31 December 1899.

In the bow (forward) part it was 1 January 1900.

This ship was therefore not only in:

Two different days,

Two different months,

Two different years,

Two different seasons

But in two different centuries - all at the same time!

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carsthatnevermadeitetc · 12 days

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Abarth SE 030, 1974, by Pininfarina. A racing prototype based on the Fiat X1/20 project that became Lancia's Montecarlo. The SE 030 was powered by a mid/rear mounted 3.2 litre version of the Ferrari-built Dino 120º V6 as fitted to Fiat's 130. The car was entered in the 1974 Giro d’Italia crewed by Giorgio Pianta and Cristine Becker, it took second place overall, behind a Lancia Stratos.

#Abarth #Abarth SE 030 #Pininfarina #1974 #race car #mid-rear engine #Dino V6 #ferrari engine #prototype #1970s #Giro d’Italia #Fiat X1/20

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slutforpringles · 6 months

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The key difference to McLaren that makes Ricciardo's revival real

Ricciardo drives the car very differently to regular driver Yuki Tsunoda, but also to Pierre Gasly - who was Alpha Tauri’s spearhead for several seasons. They prefer a later-braking approach with a sharp, later rotation - the V-style we often hear drivers talk about, and that Ricciardo wanted to move away from at McLaren but couldn’t. The way Ricciardo brakes and approaches a corner puts very different demands on the car and tyres, and requires (and instigates) a different kind of car behaviour. What you saw in Mexico was the result of Alpha Tauri really adjusting the car to that for the first time.

“The driving style is different and not only from the mechanical or aero platform, but we know the Pirelli tyres are quite sensitive,” says Alpha Tauri’s chief race engineer Jonathan Eddolls. “The way he drives we can see different tyre temperatures, different tyre temperature balance. We're not talking big numbers, it's not massive, but we can see differences in the way he drives. And he makes the laptime in different parts of the corner. Therefore he exposes different weaknesses to say Yuki does - he drives it in one way, Daniel in a slightly different way. So we just need a slightly different set-up direction for him.”

Ricciardo prefers to carry more speed through the corner by making it more of a ‘U’ shape. To do that he needs a little rear instability on entry to turn in, and enough grip to rotate the car mid-corner without the rear braking away. The McLaren had a lot of peak downforce but it was not always usable, making the car unstable and inconsistent to drive in certain corners and conditions. That was murder for Ricciardo’s preferences. And even now, in a McLaren regularly scoring podiums, Lando Norris says he wants to ‘U’ a corner but has to ‘V’ it off because the car can’t handle that.

Ricciardo admitted he’d had a limitation exposed by his failure to switch styles in the way Norris could, and even how Ricciardo’s replacement Oscar Piastri has. But give him the right car and he was adamant he could still work wonders. That’s what he seems to be moving towards with the AlphaTauri. But achieving that by pursuing this set-up direction was not the work of a moment. AlphaTauri started to experiment after the summer break but Ricciardo only managed one and a bit practice sessions at Zandvoort before breaking his hand.

Then the first attempt at his second comeback of 2023, at Austin, was hamstrung by it being a sprint weekend. Given it was his first race back, upgrades had changed the car’s behaviour in his absence, and the sprint format meant just the one practice session before qualifying, AlphaTauri played it safe and put Ricciardo on Tsunoda’s set-up. That didn’t really work for him. So it was all about getting to Mexico and working on different set-ups to try to unlock a bit more potential from the car based around his driving style. “One of his big limitations has been the front end,” says Eddolls. “So the [new set-up] directions have been able to improve the front end of the car for him, accepting the stability compromise and how that impacts the tyre temperatures through the corner and through the lap.”

It may sound surprising given this was his Kryptonite at McLaren but what Ricciardo has been clear on from the start at AlphaTauri is that he could live with a bit more rear instability. There were signs of this right back in Hungary, where Ricciardo drove the car for the first time. There, and in his second race in Belgium, there was some under-rotation in the car. While the AlphaTauri lacks the aerodynamic peaks of what Ricciardo was driving at McLaren, it seems to have a more stable platform. It’s consistent, and understandable. So Ricciardo actually found that he could cope with some more rear instability than it had, to help give him the front end he needed, without it prompting the kind of inconsistency in car behaviour that he could not handle the way Norris could at McLaren.

The key to understanding the difference is to consider that not all rear instability is the same. AlphaTauri has battled some specific corner entry trouble all season, mainly when its drivers were braking late into heavy braking zones. Given he generally struggled with rear instability at McLaren, it was initially a concern that this might be an issue for Ricciardo. But with the way he drives compared to Tsunoda, Ricciardo didn't counter the same issues with the AT04. Instead, Ricciardo knows what to expect from the car and is able to take it to its limits more comfortably.

“Probably the car that we've got, the characteristics, it behaves,” says Eddolls. “Maybe we haven't quite got the load or efficiency of some of the top teams. However, there's no big fundamental weaknesses of the car other than a lack of a bit of load. He knows what it's going to do. And the fact that it does the same thing, every lap, corner to corner, it's given him the confidence to be able to throw the car into the corners and know that it's going to stick and knows that it’s going to do the same every time. Once we've got that platform in those couple of races earlier in the season, then we can start working on changing the balance corner to corner or through corner with the set-up to try to extract a bit more performance. It's a car that's given him the confidence to be able to push it closer to the limit than maybe he had in McLaren.”

Since Ricciardo’s early races before the summer break, the team has added a bit more aero load through upgrades, and the new set-up direction has now unlocked an even more Ricciardo-friendly balance. In Mexico, Ricciardo was able to use the stronger front end to rotate the car through the corners more to his style - braking a little earlier but riding it a little longer, giving him the grip to turn the front in mid-corner and carrying speed through. The result was being at ease with the car in qualifying, visibly leaning on the front and throwing the car around more.

It doesn’t mean he was on another level to Tsunoda, who looked like he could have been just as quick were his qualifying not sacrificed because of a predetermined engine change and grid penalty. But it did mean Ricciardo was more at the limit of this car for the first time, and feeling more like his old self. This continued in the grand prix itself. The controlled tyre management and comfortable race pace was different to the vast majority of his grands prix for McLaren. Were it not for a red flag, Ricciardo probably would have finished fifth – the final stint suggests he’d have had the race pace to fend off George Russell’s Mercedes (who jumped him at the restart instead), and Norris would have been too far back to catch and pass him on his recovery drive from the back of the grid. Ricciardo also looked feisty at both the start and the post-red flag restart, doing a good job amid frenetic runs to Turn 1 and beyond, and even launched an attack on Russell the final lap. It didn’t quite come off, but how often did you see him able to try that in papaya?

“It was a little weird, at the start of the stint, I didn’t feel as good as towards the end,” Ricciardo said of the second part of the race. “It felt like it took me a little bit to get a rhythm with the tyre. Then the last probably 10 laps, I was able to really start pushing harder. Lando getting George probably hurt George’s tyres a little bit, so that brought him back to me. It was tough. I probably didn’t expect to get that close. When you’re that close, you’re like ‘ah, we could’ve!’. But he protected well in Turn 4. At one point, I was trying to go on the outside, but I could see we were both going to run off and had to abort the mission. We tried, but ultimately, just to be battling a Mercedes at the end, that makes me more happy than just missing out on sixth.”

Ricciardo probably does need a Red Bull Racing promotion to start doing that on a regular basis. Getting the most out of the car he has now must be the objective for the rest of the season – and on this evidence, it should be sustainable. “After last week, it’s funny,” he said. “You can never guarantee a good weekend [but] I’m not surprised we had a good weekend. I was just ready for it, and I think the direction we went with set-up, I knew that would allow me to have a bit more confidence with the car. There’s still certainly some things to get out of it. Even in the race, my first sector was a little average, I wasn’t very consistent there through the first chicane. For sure some things I could improve on, but overall I was very happy with the weekend.”

via: The key difference to McLaren that makes Ricciardo's revival real | The Race

#daniel ricciardo #dr3

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mousical · 1 year

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.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

wheel to wheel

pairing; f1 x female-driver! reader

warnings; car crash, mentions of alcohol, cursing

summary; alpha tauri’s first female driver has a day.

word count; 3.7k

a/n; part one of a multi chapter fic! will be an eventual driver x reader, just not sure which driver yet lololol. also i wrote the first half of this before the race, which is why a lot of the results don’t line up whoops

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

TURN 1 INCIDENT INVOLVING CARS 6 (LAT), 4 (NOR), 12 (Y/L/N) NOTED — CAUSING A COLLISION

"Are you okay, are you okay?"

The muffled voice of your engineer repeated over the radio.

"I'm fine." You mumbled back. Not waiting to hear a confirmation, you began maneuvering out of your seat, careful to avoid any scraps of metal torn off the body of the car.

A sigh escaped your chapped lips as you gave the car a once over. It certainly wasn't a pretty sight; the back half had taken the worst blow, rear wing nowhere in sight. It could've been a lot worse, though.

Thankfully, when your rear wheel had been touched, sending you off the track, you had managed to somewhat get control of the spin before getting thrown into the wall. If you weren't so pissed about DNFing, you would've been impressed with your reaction.

You lifted your gaze away from the car, just in time to see a limping Latifi rolling back onto the track before skidding away. Figures.

Now that you were out, you could check on the other victim of Latifi's most recent murder attempt. You winced at the soreness of your legs as you jogged to the McLaren.

You didn't quite catch the incident, but you assumed that it was probably the McLaren who had spun onto your wheel, only after being clipped himself by the Williams.

The other driver seemed to have had it a bit worse than you. His left sidepod was lodged into the barrier, the nose, at least what was left of it, angled into the wall. The back remained mostly untouched, save for a nasty hit on the rear wing. You clicked your tongue. Must've been a nasty impact.

You caught a glimpse of the driver’s helmet on your way to the car. Poor Lando.

The marshals had reached him first, standing around the car while he hopped out. Then began the work to get those cars off the track.

Meanwhile, you and Lando only had so much time to breathe before having to head back. Thankfully, the crash had occurred at the end of the main straight, which meant that the walk of shame back to the garages wouldn't be too long.

Once you had gotten off the track, you were able to slip the helmet off. Thank goodness, because between your headache from the crash and the Austin heat, you were just about ready to pass out under that suffocating helmet. You tried to keep your head down, not really in the mood for the crowd's pitying stares.

“Latifi." Lando groaned, catching up to you.

"Latifi." You repeated through a breath. The two of you walked along side of each other, helmets in hand.

"Did he clip your rear?" You asked, blowing a strand of hair out of your face.

"Tried moving to my outside to pass." Lando nodded, confirming your suspicions.

"Maybe he sneezed mid-overtake. You never know." You joked dryly. Lando scoffed.

"I think you're giving him too much credit." Lando rolled his eyes. Teasing the driver was an easy distraction from the fact that the two of you had lost out on possible points.

You made simple small talk during the walk back, giving each other your own perspectives of the race before ending up in the wall. And, of course, came the inevitable Latifi slights.

"I'll never understand how someone ends up 21st in a 20 driver championship." You laughed. Lando shrugged.

"I'll never understand how he gained 20th back." The two of you had finally reached the pit lane, a couple of team members from your respective garages coming up to meet you.

"How many laps left?" You asked one of the crew members. He told you 31, to which you groaned. Turning back to Lando, you waved a quick goodbye.

"Smashing race, Lando!" You mused. He shook his head with a smile before walking off to the McLaren garage.

The Alpha Tauri garage was fairly uneventful. Franz gave you a quick pat on the back on your way in. "Come over to the wall when you can." He yelled over the bustling pit lane.

You gave the principal a quick thumbs up before heading inside, the pit crew already waiting inside to give their condolences.

To be completely honest, you weren't feeling too upset about the unfortunate end to your race. Maybe it was because you knew it wasn't your fault, maybe it was the heat getting to you- either way, you felt content to slump down in a fold out chair in the back of the garage.

You knew that you eventually had to head back out to join Franz and the engineers on the pit wall, but you didn't see the harm in giving yourself a couple seconds to unwind after such a troubling crash.

Now that the adrenaline had all but dissipated from your system, the soreness in your legs was feeling a bit worse, and a new pain had formed in-between your shoulder blades.

"Y/N! Everything alright? That looked nasty." Your PR manager appeared, causing you to jump in surprise. "Oh, sorry." She laughed, bringing a hand up to her chest.

"All good, Nat." You responded with a smile, leaning back into your chair. "Sky come racing down yet?"

"Not yet. Think they're stopping at McLaren first. They'll be around soon though. If you get to the pit wall quick enough they might not bother you." She handed you your cell phone.

"Guess I better get out there then." You yawned, slowly stretching out of the seat. You winced at the soreness, eliciting a frown from Natalie.

"Want me to get the medic over here?" She asked, walking you across the garage. You shook your head.

"Just need a massage. I'll be fine." You assured her. She pursed her lips, not sure if you could be trusted. Ultimately, she gave in.

"Alright, whatever you say. Sorry about the race." She waved you off before turning on her heels to go back inside.

After waiting for a Mercedes to pass, you jogged across the pit lane, hopping up onto a pit wall stool with a grunt.

You slipped on a headset, quickly checking the screens in front of you to get a sense of how the race was running.

The Mercedes that had just crossed your path was Hamilton's. He had come back onto the track in 5th, just ahead of Perez.

Max was running in first, little surprise there, with Sainz in second and Leclerc in a comfortable third. A ways behind the Ferrari, Russel had gained some generous distance between him and P5, a gift from Lewis's first pit stop of the race.

The rest of the grid was nothing out of the ordinary, save for Yuki, who was fighting hard to maintain a surprising P9. You would make sure to congratulate your teammate after the race was over, whether or not he ended up keeping the position.

"Any update on a penalty for Latifi?" You spoke into the headset at 20 laps to go.

"It is being investigated. Should find out in a couple laps." Your engineer's thick French accent spoke.

With only so many laps left, and Latifi running on a set of fresh hards, you assumed it would be a post race penalty. A penalty, mind you, that would serve no purpose, as Latifi had been crawling through the track in last place since the collision.

Speaking of said collision, you decided to take your newfound free time to begin thinking about answers to predictable questions that were sure to come up in the media pen.

Can you explain to us what went down on track? Did you feel as though you had the potential to score crucial points before the collision? Could Lando Norris have avoided an impact with you?

'I'm sure Crofty explained it better than I could.'

'Maybe, sure.'

'Maybe, I don't know.'

All answers you wished you could give the media, but you knew better. Whatever you were going to feed them was going to have to be filled with a lot more bullshit than those perfectly fine answers.

The last laps of the race dragged on excruciatingly slow, until finally ending in a laughably predictable way. Max won, Ferrari bottled a potential win, and George Russell complained the entire time. Typical Sunday race day.

Natalie hunted you down right after the cars had been pulled in, quickly giving you a synopsis of what not to do in the pen. That's something you loved about having her as a PR manager; she never scripted your responses. More often than not, she just told you not to be an arse and sent you on your way. This time was no different.

The media pen was as bustling as ever when you strolled in, journalists pushing over each other to jot down quotes from the drivers. You slid into an empty space next to Lando, who was in the middle of an interview with F1 TV.

"It's disappointing, of course, not to score any points on such a promising weekend, but hopefully we'll back stronger for Mexico." He explained.

The interviewer thanked him before he was shuffled away by his own PR manager, and you were thrown into his spot.

"Yeah, I mean," You started after a basic enough question. "It really is unfortunate to have had our race ended like that, especially after such a successful first stint." You sighed, crossing your hands over your chest. "The team has been working so hard all weekend, and it is a shame to have no result to show for their efforts." The interviewer nodded at your response.

"Did you think that anything could have been done to prevent such an incident?"

You pursed your lips, trying to judge how much trouble you'd get in if you told the truth. Quickly glancing at Natalie, you found your PR manager staring daggers into you, as if she knew exactly what you were thinking.

“It's racing." You smiled at the interviewer with a shrug, catching Natalie nod out of the corner of your eye. "These incidents happen. The car has been brilliant all weekend, I felt like I’ve had a lot of good pace; real results were definitely reasonable and very much in reach. There’s a lot of crucial information we’ve learned from Austin that we can hopefully apply down to Mexico. I don’t know, I guess I’m trying my best to take away what few positives we got from this weekend— stay optimistic, you know? I mean that’s really all I can do.”

“Well, the fans were certainly sad to see your drive ended so soon.” She spoke, still committed to keeping the conversation on the incident.

"Yeah, you know, I really am so lucky to have such incredible fans. Austin has been so welcoming— it's really been great." That response wasn't a lie. This was only your second time racing COTA as an F1 driver, and the city had welcomed you in with open arms.

"Glad to hear it." She paused, biting her tongue for just a moment before speaking up again. "I do have to ask, on behalf of the loyal fans of the US, will we be seeing you racing again here at COTA next year?"

Oh boy. You wish you knew.

Your eyes flew to Natalie, who looked just as thrown as you.

"I'll let you know when I find out."

After a quick thanks and good bye, you were hurried to the next interviewer, and then the next, and the next. Eventually, it was over, Natalie saving you from having to answer the same questions thirty times over. On your way out, you quickly stopped by Yuki, who was talking to Sky Sports.

"Congrats on the points!" You exclaimed with a smile, patting the other driver on the back. Startled, he spun around, sighing when he realized it was just you.

The interviewer laughed, Yuki gave you a quick thumbs up, and then you were off to the paddock.

The paddock lane was busy with activity; teams running equipment to and from the garage, post-race paddock tours mingling through the buildings, the occasional driver making their way back to their own team's temporary HQ's.

You took your time getting back to the Alpha Tauri hospitality, enjoying the way the light Austin breeze ruffled through your hair. The sun was going down, which meant that, thankfully, the heat was less punishing. You unzipped the top of your overalls, tying the sleeves around your waist.

The drivers' rooms were hardly luxurious, just a small office space with a couch, a chair, and a coffee table. An air conditioning unit sat against the wall, keeping the room cool for your arrival. The chill air was a welcome shift to the dry heat you had been melting in all afternoon.

A change of clothes was waiting for you on the couch, and you couldn't have been more excited to get out of the sweaty fireproofs. Just as you began slipping on a fresh Alpha Tauri polo, you heard a soft knock at the door.

"Y/N? You decent?" Natalie's voice rang out.

"One sec." You called out, hurriedly putting on the rest of your clothes before opening up the door.

"Not sure if you feel like celebrating-" Before she could go on, you groaned, turning around to slump down onto the couch. "Max won, so Red Bull is putting together a thing."

"A thing?" You whined.

"Yuki is going. Obviously, Max and Sergio will be there." She alluded, arms folded over her chest.

"I don't have a choice." You finished her thought.

"See you there, then. I'll send you the address." And with that, she was gone.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

The club floor was a cacophonous maze of drunk dancers and party-goers, all shamelessly slamming their bodies together in a syncopated rhythm. The music was deafening, shaking the floor itself with its pounding bass.

You maneuvered your way through the hoard, scanning each guest with a profound curiosity. Professionals in the racing world, masters of their own crafts, all stumbling through the crowd in tipsy hazes.

The place was bursting at the seems with excitement and energy, all in celebration of the team’s latest victory.

You were entirely lost. For the first half an hour or so, you simply wandered through the club, hoping to find a familiar enough face to strike up a conversation with.

Max found you before you could find him.

“Y/N!” His accent slurred. “Tough luck today!” You turned to greet him with a small smile.

“Is what it is. Congratulations on the win! Didn’t think you had it in you.” You quipped, eliciting a laugh from the Dutchman.

“Of course, of course.” Max paused, taking a sip of his drink. “Hey, did Christian find you yet?”

“Christian?” You repeated, raising a brow. “Not yet, why?” Before he could respond, a new person cut in, bombarding the race winner with congratulatory words. You swallowed a laugh, amused at the ambush. “Just find him!” Max shouted, before being whisked away.

Being honest, you didn’t really want to speak to Christian; it seemed like every time you did, you ended up getting yelled at. If it could be helped, you would do your best to avoid your boss for as long as it could be helped.

The night continued on in a similar fashion, team members from both Alpha Tauri and Red Bull giving their condolences, only before asking if you’d seen the man of the hour.

Despite knowing almost everyone in the club, you couldn’t help shake the feeling that you were alone, left to stumble your way through the night all by yourself. This, coupled with your unfortunate sobriety, as you were responsible for driving yourself back to the hotel, was shaping your evening up to be more of a bore than a celebration.

It wasn’t that you weren’t excited for the team— quite the opposite in fact. You’ve always sort of seen Red Bull and Alpha Tauri as two sides of the same coin. You felt their wins as if they were your own, same with the losses. Even if Max winning was becoming a natural occurrence, each time felt just as special as the last.

Maybe the sting of your DNF was still poisoning your spirit. That must’ve been it, you decided.

The far away sight of a familiar set of curls coaxed you out of your concentration. Without another thought, you squeezed your way over.

“Lando!” You exclaimed, happy to see someone you knew enough to busy yourself with. He, just like you, looked incredibly lost. “What are you doing here? Thought this was a Red Bull party.”

“Not super sure, honestly.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, always glad to see you.” You grinned. “No party at McLaren tonight?” It was a bit of tease; a DNF and 17th weren’t anything to go clubbing about. He gave you a glare.

“Nothing to celebrate, really. Unlike you lot!” He gestured to the hoards of people around you two.

“Yeah, constructors. Pretty wild.” That fact had only just begun to sink in; the implications of Red Bull’s constructors win was a miraculous feat.

“You alright?” He quirked a brow at you, to which you swatted away.

“Perfectly fine! Maybe not as drunk as I’d like to be.” You scrunched your face, the craving for alcohol itching through your body.

“You drive here?” You nodded in response. “Well, I can always give you a ride if you need it.” He offered.

“Really?” You knew the two of you were friendly, but you didn’t think you were that close. He nodded.

“Yeah, I mean, I’ve got nothing else to do tonight.” He shrugged. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth. The offer was very tempting.

“Alright, Norris. I’ll take you up on that.” You decided with a smile. Not wishing to waste any time, you began making your way to the bar, Lando following close behind.

You were painfully close to the counter before bumping into none other than Christian Horner. Just your luck.

“Y/N?” He shouted over the music. It took every ounce of will power you could muster not to run away right there and then. You felt Lando’s hand touch your arm, momentarily turning your attention away from your boss.

“I’ll meet you at the bar.” He nodded towards the one object of your desire, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“Y/N, I’ve been wanting to talk to you!” Christian regained your focus, his drunken speech accentuating his accent.

“It can’t wait until tomorrow?” You half joked, not even sure if he would remember this conversation tomorrow.

“I know your contract is up,” He continued right on. “And you’ve been very patient with negotiations.” You rolled your eyes, already annoyed with where this conversation was going.

You were tired of being patient, being a team player. You wanted a contract, the one you were promised months ago. You weren’t looking forward to being told to wait for the fifth time in two weeks.

“Well, there might just be an open seat with us next year.”

Your heart dropped out of your chest right then and there. Did you hear him right?

“At- At Red Bull?” You stumbled over your words, heart rate rising exponentially. Christian brought a finger up to his lips, indicating this breaking news was still top secret.

“Just hold tight, alright?” He slurred. You nodded fiercely, suddenly very okay with playing the patient game.

A seat. At Red Bull. You didn’t see that coming.

The walk to Lando was a blur. It was a miracle you managed to keep yourself straight up before tripping into a seat at the bar.

“You get fired yet?” He mused, taking a sip from his glass. Your mouth was dry, the words stuck in your throat. His brow furrowed. “You okay?” He put down his drink.

“Red Bull.” You spit out, unable to form any full sentences.

“Red Bull.” Lando repeated slowly, confused to say the least.

“Open seat. 23’.” That was all it took for the Mclaren driver to put everything together. He slapped a hand over his mouth, letting out an excited laugh.

“Oh my god!” He exclaimed. “Actually?”

“I think!” You replied, finally breaking out in a smile. An overwhelming wave of excitement, relief, and terror flooded your systems all at once.

“You think? Is that what he said?” He pressed further.

“I think?” Was all you could come up with, still not entirely sure what was going on yourself. At that moment, the specifics didn’t really matter, at least not to you.

“Wow.” You heard Lando whisper from beside you.

“I know.” You gaped, putting your head in your hands.

“Well go on, celebrate!” Lando cheered, waving the bartender over to where the two of you sat.

“No, no.” You shook your head, shooing him away. “I wanna remember this sober.” You decided out loud.

“Up to you.” There was something odd about the boy’s expression, something you didn’t really feel like deciphering at the time. “Any theories?” He broke the lull. You quirked your head.

“As to?” That made him laugh.

“I thought the Red Bull seats were pretty much set.” You hadn’t even given that a thought, but he was right. Where was this seat coming from?

“Surely not Max?” You thought aloud, and Lando shrugged.

“Guess not. That leaves Checo.”

As far as you knew, Checo wasn’t going anywhere. At the very least, Red Bull had no plans on letting him go. Did that mean he was leaving on his own accord? Retirement, maybe? No, not at the height of his career. What then?

“I’m stumped.” You sighed, resting your chin on your hand.

“Guess you’ll find out soon, huh?” He tried, not eliciting much of a reaction from you. “Hey, Y/N.” He grabbed your attention. You looked up at him through distant eyes. “This is good news!” He was right again- you knew that. So why did it still feel so strange?

You let out a long exhale.

“I sure hope so.”

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

#f1 x reader #Formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x you #f1 imagine #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x you

2K notes · View notes

mensfactory · 3 months

Text

1950 Porsche “Gmünd” 356

It’s chassis number 356/2-0032 – the ‘2’ relates to the fact that it was in the first production run after the prototype ‘1’ car, a mid-engined, ally-bodied 356.

The Gmünd production run shifted the engine to the rear, like the VW Beetle on which it was so heavily based but kept the hand-beaten aluminium body panels.

This particular example was completed on 12th June 1950 and an early owner was Gert Kaiser, who gave it its first competition outing in the Rally to the Midnight Sun in Sweden. Naturally, in its 70-plus years of existence it’s been with various owners, including famous collectors in the US, before it came back to the UK in 2007.

Courtesy of DK Engineering

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everythingne · 3 months

Text

out of the woods (ls2) - ch3

After Dhanishka's first race, media goes quite wild. Logan is forced into an unexpected ultimatum. Charles is on damage control, Alex and Oscar help.

logan sargeant x ferrari!oc

fc: iffat marash

warnings/notes: sexual comments, demeaning reporter, blackmailing/threatening, misogyny, logan and charles povs very briefly to sort of carry the story here, blink and you miss it 'marketing ploy' crossover, very long chapter, buckle in kids.

(chapter two) (chapter four)

When asked how they know Dhanishka Dubey, most people will say Trident's 'crashgate' incident that broke F2 headlines in 2021.

While that moment is what most people know Dubey from, it might be what split two drivers apart, and what led to her career in Formula One under Ferrari this season.

Sargeant and Dubey have been noted to have been friendly since as early as their karting days in the 2010s, with photo evidence of a friendship blooming around 2017-18 when both were racing for Formula Renault.

It's believed by most fans the two started dating around that time. Some marking the start of their relationship as the day of Dubey's win over Sargeant that year, while some say they started dating even earlier.

While the speculation of when the pair dated is fuzzy, a hard date of December 13th, 2021 marks the end of the relationship. A Tweet from that day posted by Sargeant, which was retweeted by Dubey, being the only public note of their relationship that was not in sparse live interviews from their racing days.

On December 11th, 2021, Sargeant lost the P2 position in the F2 Championship to Dubey after being forced to retire mid-race due to damage sustained when Dubey's teammate Viscaal rear-ended him during turn three of the lap. Sargeant ended the season P3, beaten out by Dubey and the 2021 champion, Piastri.

During an investigation conducted by the FIA, a Trident engineer revealed hidden documents about the planned accident between Viscaal and Sargeant. While Trident was investigated further, the P2 position was bounced between Sergeant and Dubey before it was determined Dubey personally had nothing to do with the plan. She was allowed to keep her pole position.

This accident is what led to the breakup of the couple, and many fans note Dubey also negatively changed a lot from her last day with Trident in 2021 to her F1 debut this season with Ferrari. Dubey was a shock, as most fans expected to have Albon or Leclerc's brother Arthur as the second driver for Ferrari this season with both being better fit for the team.

Leclerc spoke with Sky News after the race in Bahrain, "[Dubey] is a force to be reckoned with this season, she's coming in here with something to prove, and I think she's shown that already tonight [...] There's a lot at stake for her, I think she's going to continue to surprise us."

Vasseur paired Leclerc and Dubey based on similar driving styles, with fans believing Dubey would be a support to her teammate. Although it will not be easy for Dubey to cement herself among the greats, as she's already under FIA investigation.

During one lap, at turn three, the FIA suspected Sargeant had actually pushed Dubey outside of track limits before she recovered. The FIA is still working on their decision of either letting Dubey keep her podium, or giving the proper points to Norris who was in P4.

While no decision has been made yet, many fans have taken to Twitter to discuss their feelings about the situation.

Many fans have speculated this was done purposefully by the FIA on behalf of Williams as 'payback' for Ferrari signing Dubey. Many fans of Sargeants believe Dubey's signing was done deliberately to get back at the American driver for knocking Ferrari out of the top five positions last season by two points he gained at the last race.

Other fans believe it's simply improper etiquette for the FIA to not charge Dubey with the fine they knew of for around four hours before the fine settled in.

Regardless of opinion, it's the decision of the FIA alone on whether or not Dubey will lose her first podium of her F1 career.

written by Anthony Davis

dhanishkadubey added to her story!

Charles is laying in the sun, the boat motor humming as we come to an idle. Arthur and Lorenzo are bickering, Pascale just whacking her sons with the fan in her hand and waving them over to help pass out lunches.

Charles and I still haven't spoken about Logan.

I had spoken sparsely to Logan in the few weeks that had passed, anyways. We avoided each other like the plague, like if we got to close we'd irreversibly fuck up and not be able to get out of it. Which, I guess was better than actively feuding. He'd apologized for the FIA trying to take my podium away, promised he hadn't done it on purpose. I never thought he had. But I guess he didn't want me to think he was getting back at me for Trident's stupidity.

We were so lucky no one had seen that drunk makeout in the hall, something I still thought of late at night when thinking through all my mistakes.

Charles eyes me in the shade, the book of poems my sister had gifted me right before leaving home making my stomach sick. I'd bookmarked one page, imagining the feeling of Logan's hands on my waist when I'd read it.

'he only whispers i love you when he slips his hands down the waistband of your pants.'

But was that what we were? Or was it what the media would destine us to be if they ever, ever, found out? I wanted to love Logan Sargeant, as impossible as it was in my head. I wanted nothing more than to fall irreversibly in love with him again, to slot back in like I never left, but my own fear held me back. How did I know if he liked me back the same way? The way that makes you feel so light when they are nearby? The way that would make me give him anything.

It felt weak, to admit how much I loved him, so I blamed ovulation hormones with a grimace on my face as I flipped to a new page.

"What is that face for?" Charles finally says, sitting up and rolling to the side to be next to me. I contemplate bothering my teammate with my fucked up love life and go to close the book when Charles slips a thumb into the pages to stop it from moving in the breeze. I swallow and watch him mumble the words.

"I agree with it." He says simply, eyes glancing to the side under his sunglasses before he takes the book from me and drops it in my bag, "and we should talk about that night."

"I was drunk," I counter, "and you have no room to talk about shit relationships."

"I might not have room, but," Charles sits up so he can properly sit next to me on the little shaded bed, "I know men, I know, I am one of the 'red flag' guys, as much as I'm trying to get over that now... and I wanna help you."

"We were drunk, there's still weird feelings there, we made out and then have barely spoken since." I shrug, "If you and Daniel weren't there, it probably would've been a hook up or something similar."

"Gross thought." Charles comments and I can't help the laugh that bubbles out of my lips but it dims when Charles continues talking, "You still love him, don't you?"

"I do." I groan into my hands, "Which is so dumb, because he only loves me back when he's drunk or tipsy."

"Do you know that for certain?" Charles hums and I pause, eyes flickering over to him with a confused furrow of my eyebrows.

"What?"

"Do you know, with a hundred percent certainty, that he only loves you when he's got alcohol in his system? Or is he just bold enough with it to actually do something about the way he feels?"

The boat rocks, Pascale handing us lunches and I make sure to thank her as I tear my eyes away from Charles for a moment. I hear Arthur and his girlfriend laughing behind us, Lorenzo's fiance napping against his chest as he lays on another shady part of the deck and I swallow. Love is all around me, it always has been, platonic and romantic, and it makes my stomach sick.

"No." I whisper and Charles shrugs and nods, rolling to the side.

"So either you do something about it, figure out if he actually wants something or is just leading you on." Charles takes a sip of his drink and then uses it to motion to me, the water on the outside of the cup cold as it flicks against my leg, "and if he's just fucking with you, let me know and I'll like... I dunno, crash into him or punch him."

I laugh, but nod. Swallowing past the guilt of knowing I had led Logan on too, I could've stopped his advances a thousand times over but never did. Pascale sends me a soft smile and hands me a drink she promises is extra strong. I let the gross taste of the vodka wash down my worries.

I'll be fine. It's fine.

"Also, the FIA called Vasseur." Charles hums through a bite of his salad, "They're keeping you in P3. Congratulations."

I nod with a tiny smile even if I don’t feel any level of satisfaction from knowing that, "I hate how remiscent it was of Trident."

"I know." Charles finished off his drink and stood up, “which, maybe your paranoia is rubbing off on me, but I felt like that was purposeful.”

“Assuming Vasseur argued the point that they knew about the violation for four hours before giving me a fine, yeah, that’s shady as hell.” I sigh, relaxing back into my seat as Charles nods as he disappears around the corner. Arthur leans over my seat to steal a bit of my salad and I mock stab him with my fork.

“How is F1, since you stole my spot?” he teases and I shrug, giving him a confident smirk I know is mostly for show.

“Other than everyone still acting like I’m with Trident? It’s been good.” I say, taking a sip of my drink and wincing at just how strong it actually is. Arthur nods, and whatever he said is lost over my head as Charles comes back and waves his brother away, saying I need peace on this boat and he’s not helping. As the two brothers bicker, I laugh, and post a photo of the poem in my book.

Fuck PR for a moment. I loved being petty.

vogueuk made a new post!

liked by charlesleclerc, logansargeant, anyadubey, and 769k others...

vogueuk: "Every day I push 500% harder than any of those men, and I will never be praised half as much as them." Dhanishka Dubey, the first female driver to get a podium finish--on her first race no less, reflects on how media treatment and past mistakes have changed the way she views herself as a top F1 driver.

photographed and written by @ opheliapiastri

dhanishkadubey: thank you so much vogue and thank u a billion times ophie for this <3!!

oscarpiastri: THE f1 crossover of all time

user1: omg oscar’s sister works for vogue??

oaklynnpiastri: motherrr (and my sister.)

user2: DHANISHKA UR HOT!!!!!!

user3: i’m actually in love with her. i need her in a way that is NOT halal. get out of my way logan.

⤷ user5: ‘IN A WAY THAT IS NOT HALAL’ 😭😭😭

landonorris: ophie and dhanishka would actually be a dangerous duo

⤷ opheliapiastri: nah you and olivia are bad enough

⤷ maxverstappen: lando stay out of my garage challenge

⤷ oliviapiastri: my drivers being nice to my boyfriend challenge

⤷ danielricciardo: no get his papaya ass outta rbr ❤️

⤷ landonorris: danny i thought we had something 💔💔

user5: DHANISHKA HOLY FUCK

Dhanishka Dubey is the first woman in Formula One in three decades, and it comes at a cost. Every celebration for her is bogged down by the weight of being shamed her for her past in F2 and simply for her biology. With a long history from karting to moving up the Formula racing ladder, Dubey has the same if not more experience than some of her peers.

But despite that, she's always going to be seen as an outsider.

"It's extremely isolating," Dubey exclusively tells me and Vogue in her sparsely decorated drivers room after her podium in Bahrain, her home race. She's soaked with sweat and champagne, but her waterproof eyeliner and mascara don't smudge. A hint of what she calls a 'craved connection to her femininity' in the masculine world of racing. Dubey's pulling her hair into a braid, running a brush custom painted by her mother with Ferrari's logo with clear inspiration from her Indian roots and she says to me, "Being a woman in this industry, every day I push 500% harder than any of those men, and I will never be praised half as much as them."

Dubey credits her teammate and mentor Charles Leclerc and friend Daniel Ricciardo for making the transition a lot easier for her. Leclerc was one of the people to pull her into Formula One, recommending her to Ferrari. Ricciardo shares a nickname— Danny, which led the two to becoming friends before Dubey was even announced to be in F1.

But despite having two friends before getting into F1, Dubey still feels isolated. Not from her fellow drivers, who she says have welcomed her with open arms, but from the media.

“Everyone still links me back to Trident. I have been blamed for years for causing Logan that P2 position. It’s something that’s been held over my head since I was seventeen."

Dubey is of course referencing the 'crashgate' incident that happened in December of 2021. The accident, planned by ex-Trident Team Principal Henry Davis, had her teammate Viscaal crash into then HWA pilot Logan Sargeant on one of the final turns of the race. This accident, which also took out low-placing Viscaal, caused Sargeant to lose any chance of knocking Dubey out of the P2 position. The drivers were separated by five points, meaning Sargeant did have a chance to overtake her in the championships that year.

Despite the plan being for Dubey's benefit, the Trident team did confirm she was completely unaware. Davis and the head analyst at the time, Alexandre Auclair, being cited as the ones to come up with, and execute the plan with Viscaal. When interviewed by the FIA, Viscaal played voice recordings where he was threatened by Davis to knock Sargeant out "or else." Viscaal himself apologized to both Sargeant and Dubey, who both are now on completely fine terms with him.

As soon as the investigation was complete Davis and Auclair were fired with Trident being fined around￡150.000 for the damages done to HWA's car and the hospital payments for both Sargeant and Viscaal.

With a past that haunts her, Dubey has turned inside herself to stay safe. She cites her treatment at Trident for turning her into the stone cold driver many people have immediately related to Kimi Räikkönen.

"Having a team plan behind your back to harm someone you love, just to keep you in the spot you yourself fought for tooth and nail completely undermines any achievement you would've gotten. If they stripped me of everything after that race, I would've felt the same level of devastation." Dubey speaks with a level of eloquence I haven't encountered much with Formula One drivers. She’s poised and perfect, a soft smile gracing the lips she recoats with her favorite lipstick--Valentino's shade 22R. A gift from her ex years back, and one she claims nostalgia keeps her coming back to, "I turned in on myself and became cold because that was the only way to be safe. It still is. I keep most things to my chest, I don't like sharing about myself unless I feel like I'm safe to do so. It took probably three months for me to open up to Charles about anything despite his insistence."

After the tragedy with Trident, Dhanishka moved to drive for Prema and worked with Ferrari's Drivers Academy alongside Arthur Leclerc. A move she cites helped her transition into F1. Her present in racing, is as she says with a soft laugh into her water bottles straw, "Messy at best."

"Ferrari has been a dream. They welcomed me in and made me feel right at home. Same with the drivers, each and every single one of them on the grid has been so kind. I would love to stay here, to compete alongside these guys for as long as possible. This is a good group."

Dubey already has started her season with fifteen points, and many are expecting her to challenge Verstappen for the championship title. Dubey herself says, "Max is a great challenge and I love racing with him, however, I think Ferrari will have an easier challenge knocking Red Bull out of the Constructors Championship. I can't say for certain what Charles and I have in store for this season, but with a car that got a perfect crash test, we're not going to be easy on anyone."

When I wish Dubey the best for this season, her smile is lined with 22R and she gives me a tight hug before she whisks away in a cloud of Dior's J'Adore and Valentino's Born in Roma. Louboutins clicking along the concrete floors of Ferrari's garage, her little black dress, custom made by an Armani Tailor is tucked under her large Ferrari jacket. It's cold in Bahrain tonight, and Dubey dazzles brighter than any lights we stand under.

written by Ophelia Piastri.

If this guy doesn’t shut his mouth, Logan might just hit him. The cameras haven't even started rolling yet, and this guy thinks he has the audacity to say a lot of shit about how Dhanishka wasn't a good racer and was trying to bait Logan into saying some sort of quote he could horrible misconstrue into some sort of misogynistic hate rant. This reporter, Anthony Davis or whatever, really seemed to have some vendetta against Dhanishka for no damn reason.

It’s been a while since he’d spoken to Dhanishka. Hell, Australia had come and gone with an Oscar P1 by sheer happenstances and maybe a fuck up by Red Bull. They'd gotten drunk, but steered clear this time. For Logan's benefit, as he'd told both Oscar (who, that night, was far too drunk to remember anything going on) and Alex (who was moderately tipsy) to keep him the hell away. It ended up being Charles sending him nasty side eyes that kept him barred back. He wasn't sure what the Ferrari teammates had spoken about but he was glad for the silent memo. He'd meant to message her, to meet up when they were both home, but Dhanishka still lived in Bahrain and he was in London. It would be virtually impossible to meet up in person outside racing weekends, and then he felt too bad to ask.

Or maybe he was just afraid. But that was for him to figure out later.

Miami is hot in May, and it burns into his skin as he narrows his eyes at the reporter in front of him who grins.

“I mean she’s eye candy for all the drivers, right?” The guy says and Logan clicks his tongue and rolls his neck out. He’s so close to clocking this guy. This is every comment thats been said. Complete undermines to Dhanishka's abilities as a driver, equating her to nothing more than some sort of... paddock bunny.

When Logan looks through the reporter with the most dead stare he can muster, trying to look completely unimpressed rather than pissed, the guy clicks him tongue almost like an echo of Logan. Then he opens his stupid mouth to spit, "Logan, don't you think it's a bit odd how well she's performed this season?"

"Dhanishka's an excellent driver." Logan replies, calm and calculated in his tone, "I'm not at all surprised she's bested a lot of us immediately."

"But someone who is as feminine as her shouldn't be able to handle this sport, surely." The man grins, but when Logan doesn't bite the apple he dangles in front of him, the man lowers his mic and steps closer. Logan almost backs up, not wanting anything to do with this guy, eyes searching for Alex or literally anyone who can whisk him away when the man's tone drips with venom.

“C’mon, surely you think so if that hallway in Bahrain is anything to go by?”

Logan's heart drops to his stomach. Or even further. Maybe it goes all the way through the ground, through the core of the Earth, and out the other side. It's probably shot off to the farthest edge of the fucking universe. His blood is ice, his skin is red from the mix of heat and embarrassment, and his eyes finally finally meet the reporters. The camera is still low, still not showing this moment, and Logan doesn't get it.

If this guy, whoever he was, wanted to catch Logan's reaction, why weren't they recording?

"I don't know what you're talking about." Logan keeps his voice flat, mimicking the tone he held earlier, and the man sighs. He tells Logan that his 'secret is safe with me.' and when he lifts an arm in expression, Logan catches the mans name written onto the bright orange tape on the side of his mic.

Anthony Davis.

"Oh, you're joking." Logan finds himself saying before he can even think to censor, "You're Henry Davis' brother."

"That I am." Anthony steps closer, "So either you give me what I want, or I happily send those photos over to my friend at People."

Logan can't think. Suddenly it's like every single decision he ever made is miniscule compared to this. His and Dhanishka's reputations sit on the line of whatever he's about to say, and he finds the world sits with baited breath. Even the trees stop rustling in the wind.

"What do you want?" He asks, immediately jumping to defend Dhanishka. He always had.

"Just a story, just a tidbit from you about what it was like to date someone whose built like a Victoria's Secret Angel." The man licks his teeth and Logan, one again and a bit weakly, resists the urge to deck him.

"The truth? Or some twisted story you decide the narrative of?" Logan asks and Anthony shakes his head.

"The truth, Logan."

He curses internally, but does what he can to save face.

DAVIS: Today I'm with Logan Sargeant of Williams, currently standing in P6, how are you feeling about Miami?

SARGEANT: Good, good. I've got high hopes today, the engineers have been working extremely hard to fix some of the issues we've been seeing so far and I trust they did well.

DAVIS: Good to hear, improvements are always good. You are currently only four points behind Dhanishka, how does that feel?

SARGEANT: Hah, well, she's been giving me a run for my money since we were young so I can't say I'm too surprised to be right behind her again.

DAVIS: Now, getting a little personal here so I apologize, but in the past you and Dhanishka dated, how was that?

SARGEANT: God, mate, uhm... [pause] well, pardon me for thinking this is a bit too personal. All I'll say is we were kids, y'know? Young love, it was really a beautiful thing. I don't think I'll ever regret a moment in our relationship, everything was just perfect.

DAVIS: Yeah?

SARGEANT: Yeah... uhm, we were really close friends before we dated, so everything just sort of naturally clicked into place.

DAVIS: and how about now, is Logan Sargeant back on the market?

SARGEANT: [laughing] Don't count me in just yet.

DAVIS: Ah, still holding your heart close?

SARGEANT: Well, theres only one person whose been able to hold it and I have never loved someone the way I loved her and-- God, I've said too much.

DAVIS: [Laughing] No worries, I also see Alex waving you over so it was nice speaking with you Logan!

SARGEANT: Yes, of course, my pleasure!

Charles is sprinting through the pit lane. Which, isn't a huge surprise, but it is when he's stopping at every person he sees to ask if they've seen Dhanishka. Max is immediately shouting into Red Bull asking, and no one knows. Charles grabs Carlos by the wrist, who points down the lane towards Ferrari's garage. When he passes Logan, he keeps his head ducked. He can deal with him later, he doesn't have time for this. Alex calls after Charles, saying they passed Dhanishka heading towards Ferrari.

Charles meets Logan's eyes and sees something more than just regret. Almost like fear, a trepidation rolling across his skin.

'He's gonna fear me a lot more if he doesn't leave Dhanishka the fuck alone,' Charles decides, but thanks Alex sharply before taking off again.

It's Danny who saw her duck into the Ferrari paddock in tears, and Charles is so thankful he could kiss the guy, but settles for a slap on the shoulder and a hasty thank you instead. He ducks under something, slips past two engineers, and nearly shoves an analyst out of his way. He misses them all telling him to stop, to give Dhanishka air, and just opens her drivers room door.

He thanks the gods above for his reflexes when Dhanishka throws a tennis ball at his head.

"Well this is hardly helping." Charles shuts the door once he's inside, looking around the usually pristine drivers room to instead find it a mess. The season had just started and he knew what had thrown her off so badly. Charles had seen the pictures on Twitter. He knew someone had decided to photograph someone in a vulnerable state and blast it online months after it had happened.

He was literally fuming so badly he wouldn't be surprised if his hair started to smoke out of his sheer frustration.

Hands gently taking Dhanishka's wrists, he settled her down on her PT bed, her anger falling into the form of heaving sobs he knows hurt. She refuses to curl into his side, but keeps hitting his chest with a tight fist. Through tears she choked out angry laments in what he assumes is a mix of all the languages she knows. He picks up on bits and pieces, and what he gets confuses him.

"That damn reporter...Davis--Of course that... Logan should've never spoken to him, you know that?! ... I hate him!"

"Dhanishka, I barely understand you when you speak and cry as is. You gotta throw me a bone here." Charles sighs and Dhanishka rips her box of tissues out of his hand and dots her cheeks with far more aggression than is necessary. He won't be surprised if she has little irritated marks on her face after.

"Anthony Davis, the reporter who interviewed Logan? He's Henry's brother, the old Trident Team Principal?" Dhanishka wipes under her eyes, "and Logan was so nice in the interview but I just know there was some ulterior motive to talk to him! He only asked him about me! Like Anthony was trying--"

"--Woah woah, okay, slow down." Charles grabs her wrists once more and Dhanishka sniffles and her watery eyes meet Charles' panicked ones. Theres more to the story here, more he doesn't know, and he struggles to figure out how exactly to handle this.

So he just bites the bullet and asks, "What interview? I thought this was about the pictures?"

Dhanishka feels her stomach drop, "what pictures?"

And at perfect timing, Dhanishka's phone lights up with a call from Oscar.

Charles is sitting suffocatingly close to me. Alex is leaned against the wall on the phone with someone from his PR team while Oscar sits besides Logan. We all look exhausted, worse for wear, and I can't believe the season that was supposed to be my big start had already crumbled so quickly.

"Well, PRs gonna handle it." Alex's voice chimes as he makes his way over to the couch and tosses Logan's phone back to him. Logan sets it face down next to mine, his plain black case in sharp contrast to my bright red one.

"How so?" I ask, trying to keep any sense of dread from my tone. I have to be optimistic that this will be solved or else I'm going to start spiraling. And no one here will enjoy that.

"Blackmail," Alex hums, and when me and Charles send him sharply confused looks he stammers out an explaination, "No, no, it was blackmail. They're gonna go after Davis' brother under the assumption it was done as foul play to get back at you, Dhanishka. Anthony Davis also literally blackmailed Logan into that interview."

I look over at Logan who's sat silent this whole time. I feel Charles' eyes rest on my face as I shift and lean closer, my knuckle gently tapping against Logan's to get him to look up. When he does, I find theres no normal laughter and light in his eyes, every crease and wrinkle I'm used to seeing on his face is completely gone. Replaced with some sort of stone cold man.

This wasn't Logan. This was me, mirrored in him in the worst way.

"Is that true?" I ask Logan. He just nods, then leans back to adjust the way he's sitting. I sit back against Charles, feeling his body heat through my thin work jacket. I knew he was trying to be some sort of comforting presence behind me but somehow he just felt overbearing. Though, I'd rather feel overwhelmed by support than abandoned, so I lean into it.

"He told me if I didn't do that interview and give him what he wanted, he was gonna release the photos to People Magazine." Logan runs a hand through his hair and I can see the stress in his expression as his eyes fall to mine briefly, then he looks away, "I knew I could control what he knew, so I did the interview. He released the photos to a F1 blog instead."

The room is quiet with his admission and I groan out an irritated laugh as I try to soothe the headache that wants to start thrumming behind my eyes, "wallahi—you should've gone to PR immediately after!”

"He did,” Oscar defends Logan, crossing one leg over the other and sending me a look that reads 'cool it' even though he knows this isn't nearly as tense as I can get, "but that interview isn't the problem. The photos are."

"We can't erase them, they've probably been shared a hundred times over by now." I complain and Charles hums in agreement. We sit in silence for a few moment before Alex is the one to sigh and pitch forward, waving his phone in the air before setting it down on the table.

"I didn't want to suggest this, 'cause it's not my business what y'all plan to do, but... Dhanishka, no one sees your face in those photos. Even if brightened up." Alex looks over at me, then looks at Logan who starts to shake his head, but Alex has already continued speaking, "PR suggested we either say it wasn't you... or you and Logan confirm to be dating again."

"But before you decide anything about this, you two need to figure out what the hell is actually going on between you." Charles butts in, and I expect both Oscar and Alex to decline, to just suggest lying and saying it was someone else.

But all three of them stand and nod. Almost like they'd fucking planned to do this.

"We'll be in the next room over." Oscar hums, looking between me and Logan for a few moments. Charles squeezes my shoulder as he passes and I know it’s a mix of support and his way of telling me to actually talk to Logan. The silence just about swallows us whole. There’s not much to say here, and so I just watch Logan with a nervous look before he runs a hand through his hair and groans. Was that his new nervous tick?

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” He starts as he looks at me from across the table our couches are separated by, “I already did once and I regret it every day. I shouldn’t have assumed you had anything to do with that crash, I should’ve let you explain.”

“Don’t apologize for the past.” I say sharply between his sentences and he pauses, like I’ve cut off this whole big speech in his head, so I keep going, “You hurt me, yeah, you did. I can live with that. What I need from you is what you’re going to do now, what your plan is for us now.”

“If I told you I was on board, that I want to try again, would you let me?” He asks after a moment. His voice is so raw, so nervous, and suddenly I’m transported back to Renault all those years ago.

Logan had approached me once my teammate had slipped off, I was wiping my face down with a cloth when he’d nervously introduced himself and congratulated me.

“I know who you are,” I had laughed, watching as the tension drained from his body and a tiny dorky grin grew across his face. A face still loosing his baby fat. Both of us so young. He’d stammered, blushing hard before he held out an original generation iPhone with Instagram up. The old Polaroid themed icon and original blue bottom bar staring at me as it sat on the search section.

“I wanna keep in touch, maybe talk about racing—or other stuff.” He’d said, “only if you want to.”

I had laughed and nodded, taking his phone and plugging in my information with a tiny peaceful grin. His grin grew twice in size and he thanked me before his Mom had come to pull him back to his garage, moments later my own mother doing the same.

That night, he texted asking if we could meet up before the race to get lunch.

‘Like a date ??’ I had texted, sitting on the floor in the bathroom while I waited for the hotel shower to warm up. I felt butterflies in my stomach as I awaited his reply, and then it came.

‘yeah :D!!!’

I squealed and showed my mom, who had laughed and told me to get ready. And that little date at a shitty race track food cart was still my favorite first date ever, because it was the only one that was genuinely love. I had tried dating after Logan, but never loved those guys, and he had shown me so much love even back then.

And now he sat in front of me, that same shy smile on his lips as he twirled his phone in his hands out of nervous habit.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” I say softly, and try to ignore the way butterflies float in my stomach and my arms go all tingly and my cheeks hurt from the wide smile that pokes at them, “but we have to take it slow, be genuine. Not just some sloppy hallway make out, no friends with benefits, a genuine real thing you aren’t stringing me along with. Okay?”

“I can do that.” Logan nods sharply, “Yes. Yeah I—I can do that.”

And as we sit awkwardly apart, it feels like that little first date.

“And this always my intention, even when drunk.” Logan says, the silence between us being broken by his confession, “and we still have a lot to talk about and such, but I figured I should at least give you that closure. I was never going to use you.”

I nod, a tiny smile poking at my lips, “thank you for that. It was… oddly reassuring.”

“I’m glad.” Logan laughs, nodding to himself, “Really glad.”

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rottenblur · 8 months

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study break|part three|J.MILLER|

Summary:When Sarah suggested you and the Millers should go to brunch together, it seemed like a good idea, a fun one. Then one of the miller brothers decides to get his dessert early, upsetting the other. Someone’s gotta pay for that, it just happens, poor you is burdened of the payment.

WARNINGS: Dirty talking (tommy and joel) angry joel, choking, slapping, degrading names, public touching. Dark!joel DARK JOEL. He’s mean in this yall my apologies im not sorry. Pining tommy. Over panties touching.drunk joel texting you apologizing (pathetic) POSSESSIVE JOEL

“Are you really that much of a dumb fucking slut? It’s me or fucking no one.”

It was Sarah’s idea, going out for brunch, the four of you. “If you’re gonna be staying here for two weeks, may as well get comfortable with my family!” She said that with the most genuine smile.

It filled you with a little bit of guilt, for the things you had done with her dear father the night before, guilty for the way her uncle craves you.

Even though she wouldn’t realize what was going on, even if it was right in her. Sarah only thought the best of people especially her father, so of course she wouldn’t think the miller brothers would be drooling over you.

All of you cram into joel’s navy pickup truck, it was big and clearly one of his most prized possessions. Still has that “New car” scent. “I swear he would fuck his truck if he could, spends fifty bucks every week getting it washed at some fancy place, its so anal.”

Sarah says after she heard your gasp after jumping into it.

You pull your seatbelt over your chest, clicking it into place. The warm black leather sticking to your bare legs. You decided to dress up for lunch, throwing on the only dress you packed a.k.a the only one you owned.

Sarah is talking your ear off about boys, shopping and what colour she should get her nails done next.

You hear the sound of the door slam, Joel strolls out of the house, dressed in his nicest flannel, buttoned up. A patch of the grey t-shirt he was wearing underneath, exposed. The way he had his sleeved rolled up mid arm had you drooling.

“He wears that god damn shirt to every fancy event, I swear he doesn’t have any formal clothes.” She says pointing to his washed out jeans as he approaches the car, you laugh, but really you couldn’t take your eyes off, how good those jeans shaped his ass.

He opens the car door, Tommy yells out from the door way, with one shoe being pulled on “Joel slow the fuck down, i’m coming with y’all.”

Joel scrunches his face up, shaking his head. “Fine, you’re paying for yourself.” Sarah looks at you with a confused look, you guess Tommy never comes to restaurants with them. Maybe he was coming for you?

He gets into the truck, starts the engine letting out a sigh. You look at the back of his head, he adjusts the rear mirror right on you, your eyes catching his.

You clear your throat and go back to listening to Sarah until Tommy gets into the car, with a stupid fucking smile.

“Everyone sleep okay?” He asked as if he wasn’t dead fucking asleep, while joel was in your room making you believe in heaven.

Joel lets out a small laugh, you both were thinking the same thing. Sarah replies to him and starts talking about her night.

“Can you believe he wouldn’t go through a drive thru for me? Who denies a drunk person fast food?” She says like its the worst thing ever.

“Who almost throws up in someone’s car because they couldn’t handle their liquor? Wanna answer that hun?” Oh hes sassy. Sarah was sending you videos all night, yet you only looked at them this morning due you being…slightly busy when she sent them.

It’s a long drive of you and joel stealing glances, looking away awkwardly when even the sight of him is bringing back memories of last night.

Finally, Joel pulls into the parking lot. You look around, it’s a decently nice place, one of those “insta worthy” places were girls take pictures of their food, it was overpriced for a reason it’s “aesthetic”.

Sarah loves it. Sarah was one of those girls that posted on her instagram every day, anything and everything.

She posted Joel a good few times before you came, not realizing he was her father.

More like one of those hot teachers in high school, that you beg to take a picture with on the last day of school.

He was good looking, he didn’t look his age at all. Never would you guess her dad would be THAT attractive.

He hops out, letting out a deep sigh and clearing his throat.

You undo your seatbelt, pick up your phone, you reach to open the door but Tommy is already there, with begging eyes he opens it.

“After you.”

He waves his hand, leaning on the door as you and Sarah hop out.

Adjusting your dress as you walk towards the door, Sarah’s arm interlinked with yours.

You can feel their eyes on you, the wind blows the bottom of your dress up, exposing patches of your thighs.

You look back, joel is sizing up the place seeing if it’s even decent, Tommy is well, um being Tommy. Devouring you with his eyes, it makes you nervous.

It takes him a good couple seconds to realize you caught him staring, peeling his eyes off your legs and smiling.

The fresh conditioned air gives you goosebumps as you step into the door.

A girl that looks like she spends way too much time on social media, about a couple years older greets you.

“Ya’ got a reservation sweetheart?”

God, you forgot that literally everyone around here got a pet name for strangers. Fucking texans.

Sarah pipes in.

“Yeah! Miller, four of us.”

She smiles and looks down at her reservation book.

“I’ll bring y’all to your table.”

She steps out from behind the cash and walks the bunch of you to a table on the deck, over looking the ocean.

You sit down in your seat, Joel sitting in front of you sarah attached at his hip.

Meaning, you’re stuck sitting neck to tommy. For fucks sake.

She smiles at joel, practically drooling.

“I can get your drink orders if y’all are ready.”

Sarah skims over the drink menu then smirks.

“Two mimosas for me and the lady.”

Joel shakes his head.

“You didn’t drink enough last night?” He huffs out.

You try to hold back a laugh but it’s uncontrollable.

“Just a coffee for me.” He hands the drink menu off to her.

“You want cream or sugar?” She asks, accepting the menu.

He shakes his head.

She hasn’t took her eyes off him since he walked in, fucking desperate.

“Water for me.”

She doesn’t even look at tommy when he orders. Why were you so upset over this, he’s beautiful you should know you’re not the only person that thinks that.

She nods her head and practically skips away.

You whip out your phone, placing your elbows on the table. Opening your messages skimming through to find sarah.

You: Staring problem much.-12:37pm

Her phone dings, she checks the notification and smiles. Typing back instantly.

Sarah m.: i thought she was gonna crawl on the table and harass him right then and there :0-12:37

You read her text and start laughing, you look at her and nod. Joel catches this, he leans over and tries to get a peek.

You: It’s definitely his “fancy” shirt. SHE WAS DROOLING.-12:38

She laughs and joel reads it, taking her phone and typing back.

Sarah m.: it is fucking fancy, thank u.-12:38

He huffs in unison with her, she tucks her phone back into her phone pocket and the lady returns.

With a fucking smile.

You look at sarah and roll your eyes as she lays down the drinks. Joel’s first, obviously.

She asks for your order then walks away.

You’re sipping on your drink, staring at the view, what were you thinking wearing a dress, wasn’t even hot out?

You get goosebumps and shiver, tommy catches it while sarah and joel are deep in conversation, about something stupid, whatever they could debate about, they would.

“You cold honey?”

He places a hand on your knee, rubbing circles with his thumb.

Oh god.

You shake your head. “Probably shouldn’t have worn a dress, bad idea.” Adding a nervous giggle.

He smiles, leaning in closer and whispering into your ear. “That’s right. Should have worn nothing.”

He pulls his hand further up, resting on the hem of your dress. Sitting comfortably on your upper thigh.

He rubs slow circles on your inner thigh, you squirm in your seat.

Fuck.

You finish off your drink, Tommy moves his hand up, grazing your clit through your panties. Your breath hitches. Joel looks at you, you look back.

He looks at Tommy then furrows his brows.

Fuck. Oh my FUCK.

You were caught.

You knew how much Tommy’s pining for you bothered him yet, you still let him touch you.

You’d say you were bothered by it too but the way your panties are wet right now says differently.

You clear your throat and stand up. “I’m gonna use the bathroom, ill be back.”

You almost trip over your own feet walking to the bathroom.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

Does this mean you’ve lost Joel?

Maybe you’d get some nice rough angry sex out of this, finally feel him.

You stare in the mirror taking deep breaths trying to figure what the fuck to do.

Back at the table, Joel’s clawing at himself to have control, it’s nothing just some stupid fucking flirting, you didn’t resist though.

Fuck it.

He taps his jeans pocket and sighs. Interrupting Sarah and Tommy’s discourse on the latest movie they watched. They both look to him. “I forget my phone in the truck, imma get it.”

Sarah shrugs her shoulders as if she didn’t need to know that and goes back to her conversation.

He gets up, walks towards the exit and when he’s far enough for them to not see him, he stomps over to the bathroom.

You’re finished practically water boarding yourself to feel better, wiping off the “waterproof” mascara that ran down your face .

You open the door and are met with the hard chest of a taller man.

“Oh i’m sorry sir-“ You look up.

Fuck.

He pushes you back into the bathroom with a grip on your neck. Thank god for private bathrooms.

You thought it was just gonna be some steamy, kinky, public sex cause of him choking you. The way he was looking down at you, his grip tightening tells you different. He was fuming.

“Ah i-“ It’s hard to speak with the way his hand is engulfing your neck.

“Did ya like it?” He loosens his grip just enough for you to speak, pushing you against the bathroom wall by your neck.

The other hand encaging you above your head. He was leaning so close to you, it seemed like you could change his mind and it WOULD turn into sex.

He tilts his head waiting for an answer.

“Like what Joel?”

He tongues his teeth and shakes his head at this.

“Uh uh don’t you fucking dare-“ He retightened his grip. “-play the dumb slut with me, thought you were the smart one darlin’?”

You nod, choking out a response. “I’m sorry joel—really. I didn’t.”

He lets out a groan, slapping your face, a burning feeling races through your cheek, then he was spreading your legs.

“So you’re telling me, if i check right now, you won’t be soaking for tommy” He gets up in your face.

“Don’t like you lying to me darlin’”

He reaches down, hand still on your throat for dear life.

He feels your panties. They are fucking soaked. From him or Tommy, you have no clue.

“Just what i thought. Ya think you can just go ‘round picking and choosing what miller you want as your fuck toy?—” He tightened his grip, you can barely breathe.

“—Think i wouldn’t know? Think i don’t recognize that cute little face you make, when someone’s touching ya’?”

You choke on your own spit.

“Are you really that much of a dumb fucking slut? It’s me or fucking no one.”

He takes his hand off your throat. You cough as the air slowly refills your lungs. “I’m yours okay? Please i’m sorry.”

He grins, grabs your cheeks and gives you a quick kiss.

“Oh i know baby, you’re sorry now.”

He leaves the bathroom, leaving you to wipe the fresh mascara stains off your cheeks. You fix your hair and clear your throat.

When you come back to the table, Sarah is digging into a bowl of vanilla ice cream.

You sit down, Tommy smiles at you. Joel is wiping the pink lipgloss you stained him with off, before anyone notices.

“Hey! Are you okay? You were in there a while.” Sarah says with a mouthful of ice cream dripping past her lips.

You try to come up with an excuse.

“Got kinda lost trying to find it.”

Joel huffs. Tommy can’t keep himself off you. It’s like he’s trying to get you in trouble.

He leans in again, nothing good comes from this.

“Too bad I already had dessert, ice cream looks pretty darn good.”

God just touching you was his dessert? You’d blush if it wouldn’t get you put in your place again. He tries to touch you again.

You swipe his hand away. It hurt him, he frowns and mutters a sorry.

The car ride home was quiet. Sarah showing you pictures of the dinner on her phone.

Both millers were staring right at you in each picture, it’s like they weren’t even trying to hide it.

The only interaction with Joel for the rest of the night was those few glances through the rearview mirror on the way home.

It was cruel trying to sleep. You kept tracing the spots on your neck where he squeezed the hardest, honestly you thought u deserved it.

That one kiss through all the pain, it kept you up.

How was that the softest he had kissed you before, yet the most aggressive he treated you.

It made you question everything you knew about him.

You fell asleep looking at Sarah’s instagram, the pictures of him.

Too bad you were too dead asleep cause he was blowing up your phone.

3 missed calls from J.Miller-11:30pm

Hey can i talk to ya?-11:37pm

Sorry if i scared ya, just cant handle anyone else having u-11:37pm

Sweet dreams sugar.-11:46pm

masterlist (check out the rest of the series there:))

part four: here

AN!!! Hey long time no see yawl😪 i started writing this like last week and write 90% of it in like three hours sooo idk how to feel bout it ANGST??? DARK JOEL??? TOMMY MAKING A MOVE??? Lots going on in this. @cuntyjoel was my supportive writer bestie that actually convinced me to finish this go check em out and my bottom joel fic IM BEGGING YAWL its linked so is my master list with part one and two to study break. Love yall.

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