Request from @myescapefromthislife - footballer Declan Rice and him having to speak up for his gf because she was trolled for not being "a glamour model or popstar", if you would make a story about a driver(you decide who) in a similar situation, with a girlfriend/wife who is not what the 'fans' think he should be with, but he loves her with everything she is
No part 2 requests please
Max never really thought about his girlfriend's body type as a problem, he loves her for more than he appearance. Though he'll tell her unprovoked how beautiful he thinks she is and how much he absolutely adores her.
Something he's never understood is how anyone things they have the right to comment on anyone's body. Especially commenting about a stranger they don't know.
"For you." Max smiles appearing home with a bouquet of tulips making y/n turn and look at him with a smile.
"For me?" Y/n laughs lightly taking them from him while he grins at her.
"Of course, I saw them and thought that they were just as beautiful as you." Max nods then kissing her softly.
"You don't have to do this..." Y/n mumbles as she looks at the flowers making him frown. "Don't pretend either. I know why you got these."
"Because I have a beautiful girlfriend."
Max isn't the most active on social media so it took him a while to find out that y/n had been getting hate. A lot of hate. Specifically hate about her body.
It wasn't till a couple days ago when she decided to archive her account and put on hold. A limbo between active and completely deleted but no one else can view it.
Y/n has been trying her best to keep out those thoughts about how her body looks out her head. But it's been met with little success. She's been trying everything to try and cover her body and Max's heart is breaking seeing her confidence be eaten up by people who don't even know her.
"Do you think the flowers are ugly?" Max asks making her frown almost looking offended.
"No. They're my favourite-"
"That's how I see you and that's how you should see yourself." Max tries making her look at him with a thick swallow. "Not even my opinion matters, y/n. It's just you and how you see yourself that matters."
"I'm just sick of seeing what they have to say, Max." Y/n whispers earning a sigh. "And now because I deleted everything, it's in the headlines and the media won't leave it alone."
Max career comes with a lot of frustrating elements. But he hates nothing more than the media, it's bad enough when they rip into him but at least he can tolerate that for the fact it's his own career so it makes sense that they write about him. Writing about y/n when she's done something that obviously suggests she doesn't want attention is just an insult to her and the epitome of disrespectful.
He has to handle this.
Y/n might not really like the idea of him speaking up in her defence and telling people to just leave her alone.
"Do you know...I love you like I never knew I could love someone." Max states making her sigh and shake her head. "I don't know who I'd be without you and I hate knowing that you're hurting because of what someone else thinks they have a right to say about you."
"I don't deserve you." Y/n whispers bottom lip trembling. "Look at me, Max. I don't deserve you, I don't look the part. Every other driver has a model, or an athlete or-"
"I don't want what they have then! I want you. If you asked me to describe the perfect woman, it's you. And I'm going to make sure they understand that.I can't force other people to have a brain or eyes that work." Max states while moving to finally pull her closer to herself.
"You can't call other people blind just because they see what you don't." Y/n mumbles as he holds her closely closing the space and kissing her to really just try and communicate his love in a way she can't dismiss as only words.
-
As much as he tried, Max couldn't convince y/n to come to the next race. He didn't want to push her too much when she's feeling so down. Instead he just enjoyed her videos and pictures with Jimmy and Sassy along with the promised pictures of her meals.
Max knows he should trust her to eat but with the comments being very much about her weight, he just wanted to make sure. He's been sending her pictures back of each meal he has. And he knows that she sees right through his intention of why he's doing what he's doing with the meals but he'd rather she know and do it than not know and potentially skip meals.
"So what do you want us to say?" The PR team asks after Max makes the request to have a meeting about the issues that his girlfriend is being faced with.
"That if it's not related to me and only me or the sport directly. I don't want anyone else in my life to be commented on. I think I can handle the stuff on my own social media." Max sighs making the team look between themselves. "You can read it over and make sure it's not a damaging message."
Though he wonders why he has to choose his words carefully. If he met even one of the people who have contributed towards y/n feeling as shitty about herself as she does. He'd love to have them lie on the track so he could hit there with his car.
"Does y/n know?" One of the PR girls asks making Max look at her. "Just it might be something you might want to mention...with how things are. There's going to be more attention on her when you make the post."
"She's not online anymore." Max mumbles then sighing. "I'll call her and let her know."
"Ok, good." The girl nods before they all seem to dismiss themselves.
Max sighs staring at his phone for a few moments before he sighs and picks it up tapping to call y/n who picks up after only a couple rings.
"Hey, baby." Y/n greets with a soft smile.
"Hey, sorry for calling without warning. I just wanted to...well I wanted to talk about something." Max explains making her look at him for a moment, waiting for further explanation. "I want to make a statement telling people to stop-and before you say it's a bad idea, baby it can't be any worse than it is."
"Would it make you feel better?" Y/n mumbles not arguing that things are at a bit of a rock bottom.
She hates that he own self-worth is so bad that she doesn't even want to be there for him on a race weekend.
"It's not about me. If you don't want me to do it then I'll stop the team and I won't make a statement." Max states softly earning a sigh. 'It'll get worse but it might make people shut up in thinking they have a right to comment.
"You can do it." Y/n sighs after the longest silence of Max's life.
"Really?"
"Yeah, I mean...maybe I was being a little harsh on myself. I probably should stop fighting the idea that you're not happy with me...you wouldn't put in the effort that you do if you really didn't want to be with me." Y/n smiles lightly while clearly stroking one of the cats out of the frame, the loud purring still reaching the mic for Max to hear so he can't help but smile.
"So it's ok?"
"Yes. I'm not going to see it anyway."
"I'll send my statement to you for you to ok first...I don't want to say anything that you're not happy with."
"Is the team checking it to?" Y/n teases since she knows a couple of the PR girls as friends so she knows the procedure for any public statements has to go through the team before it makes it to the online world for the public to read.
"I love you."
"I love you too...and I know it'll get better eventually." Y/n smiles earning a small nod. "I wish I was there...I know I kept saying no. But I do sort of regret it."
"We can still get you on a flight, I want you here."
"I don't know."
"Please, I would rather you be here and I can't put the statement out until I've actually written it and everyone is ok with it."
-
Y/n takes a deep breath as she tries to somewhat hide behind Max as they walk into the paddock. She'd flown in last night and Max spend the night with her, just figuring how what he wanted to say and how he needed to say it.
His statement went out this morning before they even arrived and maybe a surprise to no one. Pictures of the couple are being fought for.
"It's alright, baby. I've got you." Max smiles squeezing her hand and kissing the back of it.
He's arranged a little surprise for her, hoping to perk up her mood since she might be very slowly gaining some confidence back. He still feels it's his duty to do everything he can to help to gain back her confidence.
Walking into his driver's room there's 2 dozen bouquets of pink tulips.
"Maxie..." Y/n gasps then smiling as she looks at him. "This is so cute."
"All for you." Max smiles then smiling as he picks her up and kisses her a couple times. "I love you."
"I love you too."
And Max proves it later when he's in the media pen being asked about the statement.
"We don't want to discuss anything to do with y/n. But...we just want to ask if she's ok?"
"She's getting there. I think people really just need to learn that common respect goes a long way. I have some words for the people who make those kinds of comments which aren't so respectful. I will say that people can say what they like but I won't be letting them make any in my life miserable because they're jealous."
The reporter nods looking sympathetic since they've all seen what's been said, and really the comments are disgusting and there's really nothing that they're gaining from it.
"Thank you." Max smiles before moving away, happy that's the last interview for the day and when he sees y/n talking to Daniel who is holding a bag and speaking to her excitedly. "Hey, Daniel. What you doing?"
"I was just giving y/n the latest Enchanté line, all in here." Daniel smiles lifting the bag a little in gesture of it making Max take it since he'll never let y/n carry a bag.
"Thank you, Daniel. It's nice when I get a gift from my boyfriend's boyfriend." Y/n jokes catching their attention and watching them both grin at her. "How was media?"
"Boring. As always. But we can leave. So worth doing. Are you heading out mate?"
"Ah, I got a couple things to do. But let me know how the two of you like the clothes. I'm sure y/n can model and you can both give feed back." Daniel grins then hugging y/n. "He'll say you look beautiful in everything, and I have to agree. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise."
"Thank you." Y/n whispers before he pulls back and moves to give Max a shorter hug.
"Ready to go?"
"Just been to grab your stuff and at least some of the flowers from your room. Are you alright?" Y/n nods then smiling as he kisses her and mumbles a yes. "Are you sure?"
"Yes. Are you alright?"
"I'm perfect. Better now you're here."
”Many people don't know this, but at the time I was still suffering with vision problems from my crash in Silverstone.
So the track sometimes started to go really wavy for me, and during that race I was battling, of course, Lewis catching me but at the same time battling myself because I was struggling with my vision.
It was like riding a wave on a boat while going at 300km/h.
So I had to try and control my breathing in a different way to try and get rid of the problem- nothing else was working. For quite a number of laps, I was almost about to stop the car because I couldn't see properly.
It happened at tracks that were very bumby or had loads of advertising boards.
I never told anyone at that point as I had a Championship battle.”
Oh Maxy… ❤️ The fact he felt unwell a long time after Silverstone hurts my heart! Wonder if that was the reason in Jeddah. 💔
Drive to Survive, Azerbaijan GP 2018 | Post-race show, Spanish GP 2024
F1 Driver Reader Masterlist
Summary: You join the F1 paddock mid-season alongside fellow rookie Franco Colapinto, stepping in for Lance Stroll after a season-ending injury. This journey is far from sunshine and rainbows, but you’re ready to take on the challenges—and the deep-rooted misogyny of the sport—to prove everyone wrong. Determined to make your mark, you’ll fight to win over the skeptics and earn the respect of the F1 world.
The Debut
The Debut part 2
Azerbaijan GP
Azerbaijan GP part 2
Singapore GP
Singapore GP part 2
Autumn Break
Autumn Break part 2
USA TEXAS GP
USA TEXAS GP part 2
Post Maiden Home Win
Mexican GP
Mexican GP part 2
Brazilian GP
Brazilian GP part 2
Las Vegas GP
Las Vegas GP part 2
Qatar GP
Qatar GP part 2
Abu Dhabi GP
Abu Dhabi GP part 2
End of the Season
Creating a Section/Post for requests specfic to this story. I am open to basically anything even if its a change to the storyline that we can pretend isn't canon. I have written about 3 different versions of these, depending on how this one goes, I may edit and finish the other two f1driver reader series stories.
IN WHICH: The reader doesn’t expect to become involved in a hostage situation with her fiance’s older sister, the older sister’s best friend and the best friend’s date from hell. With the addition of a SWAT member, how will the taking of dispatch change?
Warnings: Swearing, blood, threats, angst, guns, hostage/kidnapping
Words: 5.9k
A/N: Recently got into the tv show 9-1-1 and completely fell in love with Buck so here I am writing for him as well. This takes place during the season three episode ‘The Taking of Dispatch 9-1-1’. Reader and Buck are already in an established relationship.
The apartment was quiet as the sound of your keys clattered in the bowl on the countertop. It was pretty early in the morning, so you had no doubts that Buck would be just waking up. On his days off, he would use the first day to catch up on sleep; based on prior times, he would be up in half an hour.
“Buck?” You called out from the kitchen. You heard a groan from the loft where Buck was in the process of waking up, “I forgot to drop off that book Maddie wants to borrow. When I get back, do you want to get breakfast?”
A grumble you somehow translated to approval was what you received in response. You jogged up the stairs to the loft to grab the book from your bookshelf. Buck’s bare leg stretched out from underneath the comforter on your side. The soft sighs Buck made in his sleepy state tugged at your heart; the sighs grew louder when you bent to kiss his head.
Keep reading
+18 Smut (Ménage a trois, baby!)
Pairing: Supreme!Strange x Fem!Reader / Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: When a spell goes wrong you and Stephen are throwed into another universe and end up needing the help of another Stephen Strange and things get a little intense between the three of you.
Word Count: 4,900k
Warnings: Ménage a trois (Vaginal and anal sex, DP, Oral sex with male and female receiving, Masturbation with male and female receiving.)
Writer Note: I needed to get this fantasy out of my head and I ended up being quite satisfied with the result. This is totally filthy. you are welcome ;)
As usual I would like to remind you that english is not my first language so will probably have some grammatical mistakes here and there but I hope it doesnt spoil your experience.
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“Okay, this is the worst day of my life, Strange and you will have to compensate me for all this mess.”
Strange held out his hand to you helping you up.
“Let's find a way to get back home first.”
You sighed looking around. You were on top of the roof of a building and you could take a good look at the city of NY from that universe. It was different. More alive, with much more greenery and flowers and even the smell of the air was better. No pollution or smell of factory smoke.
“I could get used to living here” You said sighing and Strange rolled his eyes. Of all the people in the world he could be lost with in another universe with no idea how to get back home, you were the last one he would choose. Wong insisted on saying that the problem he had with you came from a repressed feeling, but he couldn't imagine feeling anything for you at all. You were irritating, petulant, and although very pretty, you were definitely not a good company.
You felt your stomach churning, but you took a deep breath, doing your best not to throw up. “Okay, what's the plan?”
He was silent for a second.
“Strange, tell me you have a plan.”
“Maybe I’ll have one if you just shut up for a minute and let me think.”
You crossed your arms in annoyance “We're in NY. There must be a Sanctum here.”
He shook his head “Great deduction.”
You rolled your eyes “Maybe if we find the Sorcerer Supreme of this universe he can help us find a way to get back to ours.”
He thought for a moment looking at you “Maybe there is another me in this universe.”
You sighed “I'm praying we’ll find the Ancient One or Wong. I couldn't handle two of you.”
You walked the streets slowly, being surprised by the small differences between the universes. Here, for example, people walked in red instead of green, which made you almost get run over if he didn't pull you at the right time.
"Watch out" he said gruffly.
“Just for the record, this is all your fault!” You replied back in the same tone “If I die I will come back to haunt you!”
He looked at you offended “How is this my fault?”
“Are you really going to pretend it wasn't your spell that went wrong and caused all this?” You sighed irritably as you crossed another street “Just to remind you, I warned you not to do this damn forgetting spell. You never listen to anyone, Strange.”
“I was trying to help the kid! I know it's hard for you to have empathy for people, but he's suffered too much.”
“Okay, and I imagine he must be better now with all those villains loose there and both of us missing. How do you think he's handling it all by himself?!”
He did not answer. Strange was feeling tired and guilty. He was also worried about Parker and what might happen to him and you seemed to enjoy putting salt in the wound. He didn't know why you hated him so much, but it was exhausting to be around you for more than an hour and he was already around you for a long time. He just wanted to get home as soon as possible.
You finally arrived at the Sanctum Sanctorum and hesitated a little to knock on the door, but before you could knock the door opened by itself and you entered revealing a slightly more beautiful and well-kept hall.
“Hello” Strange called in the empty hall and then a familiar and annoying voice answered.
“What... How did you get here?”
You turned on your heel in time to see the man in a blue tunic coming down the stairs.
“Oh for God's sake!” You complained
Strange stared at the other Strange coming towards him. It was exactly like him, except he didn't have a goatee and wore a blue tunic and a blue cloak.
“I'm sorry for entering like that” Your Strange said “We are looking for the Sorcerer Supreme of this universe.”
The other Strange looked at the two of you curiously “Well now you find him. How can I help you?”
You couldn't help but notice the weird way that Strange was looking at you, as if he knew you.
You sat in the hall by the fire and he poured you a cup of tea and waited for you to explain how you got there.
“So let me get this straight” He said placing the empty cup on the coffee table “You used a forgetting spell to help your friend escape the persecution he was suffering, but somehow the spell went wrong and caused cracks in the fabric of reality opening rifts between universes?”
Strange nodded feeling ashamed before himself “It was a stupid mistake on my part. I could have fixed it, but the kid...”
“Now you want to blame a teenager for your mistakes, Strange?” You said irritated “Who understand the dangers, him or you?”
The other Strange looked at the two of you and smiled at you. A kind of smile you weren't used to seeing on your Strange. “I always knew that one day I would meet visitors from other universes, but I never dreamed of meeting a variant of myself and [Y/N]”
You stared at him in surprise “Do you know me?”
He nodded “Well, let's say so.”
Your Strange looked at you both curiously noticing the way the other Strange looked at you.
“Sorry, but what are you two to each other in this universe?”
Strange smiled, looking away from you and you felt your face heat up.
“We never decided that, actually.” He replied “Anyway, I haven't seen her in years. She's married and living out of the country from what I heard.”
You nodded, relieved to know that there was no way you could run into a version of yourself in that universe.
“I ask you the same question.”
Strange looked at you sighing “She is a student at Kamar Taj. One of my most powerful and intelligent students. No less irritating.”
You stared at Strange in surprise that he had said something positive about you.
The other Strange sighed “Well, if there is a rift between the universes as you say, I believe it's not impossible to return home, but first we have to find a way to fix this mess before other visitors start arriving from other universes.”
Strange agreed “I know I have no right to ask this, but I need your help.”
The other Strange looked at you again with that interested look and then smiled getting up and offering his hand to your Strange.
“I'll help you, Stephen. Besides, I would do anything [Y/N] asked me to.”
You felt your face getting red as you watched the two Stephens holding hands and it really did look like a vision from hell to you. Or, if you were going to accept that you had feelings for Strange that you never let on, then that would be a vision of paradise. A highly distorted paradise stemming from some forbidden fantasy.
You sighed getting up “Sorry, is there a bathroom I can use? Long day!”
Strange nodded “Of course. I imagine you know the Sanctum. You can have one of the guest rooms tonight. Make yourself at home!”
You agreed, turning your back on both of them as quickly as possible and walking away from that environment that suddenly felt inappropriate when added to your thoughts.
Strange noticed that the other Strange didn't take his eyes off you and noticing something inside him not liking it. It was almost as if he was jealous. But of course it couldn't be that, it was ridiculous.
“I presume you want to rest as well, maybe take a shower. There's not much we can do tonight. Tomorrow morning we'll find a way to send you home. The sooner you return, the less chance of an incursion.”
Strange looked at him confused “Incursion?”
“That's what happens when one universe collides with another. We don't want something like that to happen to our universes so, as amazing as it is to meet you, I'm inclined to get rid of you as soon as possible.”
Strange nodded “Of course. Yeah... thanks for the hospitality.”
The other Strange smiled “I presume you would do the same for me. After all, if we could't help ourselves, what kind of Doctor Strange would we be?”
Strange nodded and was leaving the room when the other Strange spoke again.
“You and [Y/N]... is there nothing between you?”
Strange didn't understand the reason for the question and again noticed that irritating feeling of jealousy invading him.
“She clearly likes you...” He smirked “us... that's why I'm asking.”
“And why do you want to know?”
Strange sighed “Because it would be quite an incursion!”
Strange gritted his teeth, but shrugged. “I doubt she likes us that way. Believe me, that woman hates me, she makes my life a hell all the time!”
Strange chuckled “Some would say there is a thin line between love and hate. Maybe we're somewhere in between.”
Strange shook his head “As long as she agrees, do as you please!”
Strange nodded.
You took a shower and looked out the window at the streets of NY bathed in lights. Tiredness hitting you like lightning.
You weren't content to wear the same clothes, but for lack of anything else to wear you stuffed yourself inside your pair of jeans and white long-sleeved blouse. A knock on the door took you by surprise.
“Come in” You said while drying your hair. The Strange of that universe entered the room in his glorious blue tunic and blue cloak.
“I hope you are well accommodated” He smiled “Me and your Stephen agreed that I will help you both to return to your universe tomorrow. Tonight you must rest. You're safe here.
You felt your heart racing and you looked away from the intense way he was looking at you.
“Yeah...thanks, Strange.”
He nodded “You can call me Stephen if you want to” He said taking a step towards you and getting dangerously close to you “We were very close.”
You nodded, swallowing your saliva “Thank you, Stephen.”
He smirked “The last time we saw each other you told me that you loved me. If I remember correctly, you said you loved me in every universe” He said touching your face and as strange as that was, you couldn't pull away. “I think this is a great opportunity to test that.”
He touched your lips with his thumb, forcing them to part.
“Of course, if you're as interested in finding out as I am.”
He came closer and kissed your lips lightly. Just a touch of lips, watching your reactions. You sighed, all the feelings you felt for him that you had hidden for so long now surfacing and overwhelming you. You knew it was wrong, but for that moment you couldn't care less.
He smiled as if reading your thoughts and took you in his arms kissing you intensely. The cloak fell from his shoulders and flew out of the bedroom.
You were lost in his arms when you heard the sound of footsteps that stopped at the door.
Strange stepped away from you and you stared at your Strange standing in the door looking at the scene with an expression you didn't know if it was anger, surprise or desire.
“Stephen, I was saying to [Y/N] that the last time I saw her in this universe she told me that she loved us in every universe, what do you think about testing this theory?”
Strange stared at the two of you. The arrogant way his variant referred to you, as if he knew you so much better than he did, made him jealous and he couldn't hide anymore that all the irritation he felt when you were around masked a feeling much stronger than he could have imagined. The fact that such feeling was so strong that existed in other universes only made him more sure of how real it was and seeing that variant kissing and touching you made him want to do the same. You were his after all.
He entered the room and the other Strange stepped away watching as he took his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you to his lips. You moaned softly in surprised but wrapped your arms around his neck and let him deepen the kiss, sucking your tongue with desperate desire. You pulled back for breath and opened your eyes to see the other Strange looking at the two of you with lust.
Your Strange stepped back cupping your face in his hands
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
You faced the other Strange who was waiting anxiously for your answer.
“Fuck this! Yes.”
You said launching yourself into the arms of the other Stephen, delighting in his lips while your Stephen approached you from behind kissing your shoulder and moving his lips to your neck. You moved away from the lips of one Stephen to surrender to the lips of the other, taking turns between their mouths, the contrast between the smooth face and the goatee was interesting and you were not at all in the mood to choose which was better. You wanted both.
The bedroom door closed with a slight movement of the other Stephen's hand and you heard the latch click.
Your Stephen ran his hands down your back holding your blouse and pulling it over your head and throwing it to the floor. He placed open-mouthed kisses on your bare shoulder and pressed you against his body so you could feel his shaft under his clothes.
The other Stephen caressed your breast over your bra and not satisfied pulled it down revealing your naked skin, the cold air making your nipple harden. He brought his lips to it sucking, his other hand caressing your other breast.
A low moan escaped your lips and your Stephen reached for your hand placing it on his shaft so that you could feel the state you had left him in. He buried his face between your neck and your shoulder, you tilted your head to create more room for him and he took a light bite of your neck, his goatee making your skin shiver, your hand gripped his cock over his clothes. God, it was huge.
The other Stephen lifted his lips to yours again, his hands going down to your pants unbuttoning the buttons and pulling them down, reaching down to help you get your feet over them. He turned his lips to your breasts as he brought a hand gently down between your legs, stroking through your panties.
You felt your entire body tremble at that touch. Your hand struggling to free your Stephen from all that clothing as he continued the assault on your neck.
He unbuckled his belt, getting rid of some of his clothing, leaving only his pants and boots. You moaned softly as the other Stephen slipped his hand inside your panties caressing your clit with his trembling fingers and taking one finger inside you.
“Oh look at that, she's completely wet, Stephen. And its all for us.”
You moaned in agreement putting your hand inside your Stephen's pants and finally taking his cock and releasing it. He was hard, full of visible veins, a fat, pink head, and the tip was wet with precum. You held him tight in your hand moving up and down jerking him.
“Oh fuck, baby, do you really want me that way? Why didn't you tell me before?”
"Shut up, Stephen" You said feeling your face blushing and pulling him to your lips as you stroked his cock and moved your hips against the other Stephen's skillful fingers. The wet noise his fingers made inside you was obscene.
“God, Stephen, this is so good!”
He chuckled kneeling on the floor, lifting one of your legs and placing it over his shoulder. He pulled your panties to the side and licked all the way from your entrance to your clit.
Your entire body shook and you moaned loudly, increasing the strength and speed with which you jerked your Stephen.
“Is it good?” He asked biting his lip to contain his own moans “Tell me how it feels with his mouth sucking you like that?”
You moaned “It feels good, Stephen. Really good.”
He growled impatiently “I want your mouth. I want to fuck that dirty mouth of yours until you confess that you always wanted me to fuck you. How does that sound to you? Good?”
You nodded, moaning loudly as the other Stephen stuck one more finger inside you and fucked you with them while sucking your clit. You brought your other hand to his head, grabbing his hair.
“Fuck Stephen you do it so good.”
He smiled satisfied looking at you. His smooth face all red and wet with your juices. “Yeah? How about letting your Stephen have a taste on you? Do you want this, Stephen?”
Your Stephen groaned impatiently “Fuck yes.”
Stephen pulled away taking your hand and pulling you onto the bed. “Lie down, honey.”
You obeyed, laying down leaning against the pile of pillows. Your Stephen got rid of his clothes and climbed onto the bed coming towards you. He brought his hands to your panties, taking them off and throwing them on the floor and your legs dangled to the sides. He bit his lip seeing you fully open to him. Your little cunt swollen and wet. He couldnd believe that was really happening.
“Stephen, please... I need you to touch me.”
He brought his fingers up your slit feeling how wet you were and opened the folds of your clit before diving there, flicking his tongue in your bundle of nerves making you twitch and moan.
The other Stephen smirked satisfied watching the two of you. It was beyond any dream he could conjure up seeing himself sucking you like that, it made him extremely hard.
He unbuckled his belt and got out of his clothes leaving only his boxers and climbed onto the bed kneeling beside you and taking your hand and placing at his cock over his boxer. You bit your lips caressing over the fabric, then you reached inside and took it out, stroking quickly.
"God, Stephen you are so big"
“Yeah? You like it? Put it in your mouth, honey. I want this wonderful mouth around my big cock.”
You moaned as Stephen placed three fingers inside you, fingering you intensely as he sucked on your clit making a delicious sucking noise.
You jerked him a couple of times and spat on him spreading your spit around him and only then your putted him in your mouth going as far as you could without gagging.
Stephen moaned loudly “Oh shit honey, your mouth feels so good wrapped around my cock like that.”
You hummed contentedly by moving your hips to get as much friction as possible from your Stephen's mouth as his fingers fucked you.
You took his cock out of your mouth and went back to spitting on him jerking him quickly. He held your hair, pulling it lightly.
“You do it so well, [Y/N]. I missed that. I missed you.”
You nodded knowing too well he wasn't talking about you, but it was all so confusing right now, you didn't really care.
Stephen raised his lips kissing your belly and breasts and took his hand to your chin pulling you off the other Stephen's cock to kiss him.
You kissed him, tasting you from his mouth and moaning between his lips.
“You taste so good, baby. I could eat you like this forever.”
You sighed into his lips as you continued to jerk the other Stephen making a wet noise.
“I want to taste you Stephen. Let me suck your cock too. Let me show you how much I care about you, how much I've always cared.”
He groaned, sitting up in bed.
The other Stephen cupped your chin kissing you. You got down on all fours and took Stephen's cock in your hand and spat on it stroking it quickly, squeezing it and fucking it with your hand.
He moaned loudly “Please baby, put it in your mouth. I want to fuck your mouth.”
You complied by sucking it willingly. Licking the tip and going as far as you could, relaxing your mouth until the tip hit the back of your throat.
“Fuck baby, you do it so perfectly. You’re so good”
The other Stephen caressed your ass cheeks and you felt his fingers penetrating you.
“You are dripping wet honey. So warm. I wanna put my cock inside you. Can I? Say yes please. Let me fuck you while you suck his cock.”
"Yes, Stephen"
You said feeling his tip rubbing at your entrance. You moved your hips against him, wanting him to enter you at once.
“Honey you are so needy.”
He spat on his hand, bringing the saliva to the tip of his cock and then positioned it at your entrance, penetrating you with a single thrust. You moaned loudly as his cock stretched you and you kept your Stephen's cock in your mouth sucking him fast while your hand caressed his balls.
“Oh shit, honey you are so tight. Your fucking little cunt is so tight. I love it.”
You moaned in approval as he fucked you with quick, intense thrusts. Both hands gripping your hips, squeezing and pulling you against his thrusts and going so deep it made your whole body shake.
Stephen pulled your hair out of your face and kept it in his hand in a ponytail so he could get a good view of your mouth swallowing his cock. You kept forcing him down your throat, going so deep that your nose brushed his pubic hair, your hand gripping his balls and massaging them.
“Baby you suck my cock so good. Why have you never sucked my cock before? Isn't that what you wanted all along?”
You hummed taking his cock out of your mouth coughing and gagging. Saliva dripped from your mouth in a thick tread between your mouth and the tip of his cock. Tears streaming from your eyes. You moaned loudly feeling each wonderful thrust while the other Stephen fucked you at such a fast and intense pace.
He pulled you to his lips kissing you and then pulled you off the other Stephen's and into his lap.
“It's my turn” He said turning your back to him while you put your leg through his legs. You held his cock helping him to penetrate you and supported yourself on your legs to ride him, but Stephen couldn't give up control. He slipped his hands under your thighs, holding your weight and forcing his hips against you, fucking you at his own fast, intense pace.
He moaned loudly “Baby, your cunt feels so good on my cock.”
The other Stephen got up standing on the bed and came over so you could suck his cock. You kept both hands busy behind your back resting on Stephen's chest, so he put his hands in your hair holding it and forcing your head against his cock making you swallow it.
“Fuck, honey, you're being so nice to us. I bet you never dreamed of having two Stephens in bed with you, did you?”
He held your chin taking his cock out of your mouth and you took the opportunity to breathe. He was right. You never dreamed something like that could happen.
You shook your head no and he placed his cock in your mouth sideways forcing it against your cheek and pulling it out with a delicious popping noise. He repeated it a few times moaning and then grunted impatiently "Fuck this Stephen, If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right.”
He pulled you off your Stephen and made you lie on your side, your head positioned at the perfect height so you could suck your Stephen.
He lay down right behind you running his hand through your slit collecting as much of your slick and dragging it to your other entrance.
He spat into his hand, bringing the saliva to his cock and placing the tip on your ass. He pushed slowly and you twitched insecurely.
“It's okay honey, I know how to do it. I won't hurt you. Just relax, okay? Trust me.”
You did as he asked and tried to relax. He pulled your thigh, bending your leg so that it was in the best position for him to penetrate you from behind and slowly he was putting it on.
Your Stephen held all your hair in his hand forcing you against his cock. He moaned loudly, enjoying the wonderful flutter in your throat as you moaned into his cock while the other Stephen fucked you.
Stephen really knew how to deal with you, he didn't hurt you and with patience you felt his whole cock inside you in that wonderful new way.
“Honey, you can handle my cock so well. Tell me when I can move.”
You moaned, moving your hips against him and he smiled satisfied, starting to move slowly at first and then increasing his speed until he found a slow but intense pace and little by little you got used to being fucked like that, the new pleasure revealing itself with each thrust.
Stephen pulled you lightly by the hair taking the cock out of your mouth and moaning satisfied “Look at you baby. Are you really letting him fuck your ass? Tell me, does it feel good?”
You moaned and he bent down to kiss your lips “Use your words, baby. Tell me how it feels.”
“It feels good, Stephen. It feels good to have him fucking my ass. I've never felt anything like this before.”
He smiled satisfied “I wanna have your ass too, baby. Will you let me fuck your ass?”
You nodded and the other Stephen stepped back sitting on the bed leaning against the headboard.
“Come here honey, let me fuck your little cunt so he can fuck your ass. What do you think? Is not what you wanted? Two Stephens fucking you?”
You moaned and shaked your head yes, sliding your leg through his thighs and positioning him at the entrance of your pussy.
Your Stephen waited for your answer.
“Come here Stephen. I want you to fuck my ass. I want to have both inside me fucking me at the same time. My two Stephens.”
He groaned as he positioned himself behind you and placed his cock at the entrance of your ass and slowly pushed until he was fully inside you and moaned at the feel of your tight ass squeezing his cock and you have never felt so full.
“Oh my god, you both feel so good fucking me at the same time. Fuck yeah, I love it. Just keep fucking me like that, just like that baby. I feel so full, so full. Oh my god.”
You leaned on the other Stephen's shoulders kissing him passionately as you moved on his cock getting as much friction as possible on your clit.
At the same time your Stephen was holding your hair tightly fucking you from behind and turning your face so you could kiss him while he fucked you.
It didn't take long for you to feel your climax building deep in your belly. Even that felt different because you felt so full with them both inside you like that.
“Oh my god you gonna make me cum.”
The other Stephen moaned loud “Fuck honey, cum on my cock while he fuck your ass.”
You didn't need anything else, your entire body convulsed on top of him as your Stephen fucked your ass and no words came out of your mouth, just a loud moan and you collapsed on the other Stephen's chest.
Your Stephen pulled away holding his cock and jerking off “I am gonna cum, baby. Where do you want me?”
You moaned, bending down to take him in your mouth in time to feel the hot load of cum flooding your mouth. He moaned loudly as you sucked every drop until he was completely dry. He pulled you to his lips kissing you and then collapsing on the bed.
The other Stephen handed his cock in your hand and you took it in your mouth sucking it and jerking him, feeling him throbbing and twitching.
“Honey I'm gonna fill your mouth too.”
You moaned in approval as the hot liquid flooded your mouth and you swallowed it all. It had exactly the same taste. You licked him until he was completely clean.
He sat on the bed panting running his hand through his hair wet with sweat and then he smiled getting up and with a gesture of his hand he was fully dressed.
He came around the bed and pulled you in for one last kiss
“I was right. You do love me in every universe.”
You nodded watching as he left the room and closed the door behind him.
Your Stephen sat up in bed and held your hand “Are we going to talk about this or...”
You sighed feeling the tiredness hit your body “We will, but not today. Today we're just going to sleep”
You said and he nodded, lying down on the bed and you lay on his chest, snuggling your arm across his belly and soon you both fell asleep.
-------------------------------
Tag list: @drstrangesgirl91 @polytheatrix @dragonqueen89 @newtsniffles @strangelockd @evelynrosestuff @cute-angi @aisling1985 @whiskeyho @prix1994 @graveyzxbabe @kirithadilitirio @sherlux @xourownsidee @rbymoon @kakashibabe02 @hobimysolecito @geeky-politics-46
Summary: Erling x reader, size kink, SMUT!
Erling was an absolute giant. Regardless of how tall you were, Erling had a special talent of making you look so small compared to him. He absolutely adored your height difference, loving the way his clothes suffocated your frame. He would always tease you, asking for kisses and watching you struggle on your tippy toes as you tried reaching his lips with yours. If you were ever tired, he wouldn't hesitate to carry you around. His favorite thing about your height difference was the way you had to look up at him. Your beautiful eyes glistening under the lights, staring straight into his soul.
He also loved your height difference when it came to sex. However, he knew that he had to be very careful with you. Since he was much bigger, he made sure you were alright with everything happening. He was very adamant about having a safeword and prepping you before he would penetrate you. He knew you loved it when his tongue licked your folds, and his thick fingers spread your tight walls. He liked asking you whether you thought you could handle him.
“I’ll try to,” you would say, innocently smiling up at him. When he finally did slip himself inside you, he would always pause and make sure you were okay before slipping out and slamming back in. He was infatuated with the feeling of his large cock intruding your tight walls, the warmness almost making him cum instantly. He loved to take you with your back pressed on the bed. With this view, he could watch your tits bounce with his powerful thrusts. He could also see how his large hand perfectly wrapped around your small throat. You would look up at him with those same beautiful eyes, only now they were droopy with lust. But the best part of this view was the way he could see his cock protruding from your stomach. The bulge was subtle but served a powerful reminder about how big he was compared to you. He would be hypnotized, staring at your stomach as he entered you, waiting to see how far he reached inside of you. You would always be a moaning and whimpering mess under him, his hips slamming against yours. You could feel his balls slapping against your aching, tight cunt. He would slip his large thumb into your small mouth, feeling your tongue swirl around it.
“Look at you, taking me like a good girl,” He would praise you, his thrusts continuing their brutal pace. You would have tears streaming down your face, feeling the immense pleasure from his thick cock filling your clenching pussy.
“So…big,” you would let out, boosting his ego as his hips began jackhammering into you. By now, the room would be filled with lewd noises; skin slapping skin, moans, grunts, and the bed slamming against the wall. You would always be the first to come, followed shortly by Erling. He would make sure his large load filled you up to the brim. He would slip out, you whimpering in response as your cunt became empty again.
Erling knew you would be sore by the end of it all, and he made sure to care for you adequately and accordingly. A warm bath would be made, and he would carry you in, your legs completely numb and useless. He would bathe with you, and for the millionth time, your beautiful eyes would look back up at him.
Charles Leclerc x mafiosa!Reader
Summary: something about the brake issues that Charles had to deal with in Bahrain just seems off … so you take matters into your own hands while your boyfriend is none the wiser
Warnings: depictions of violence and minor-character murder
You make your way through the paddock of the Bahrain International Circuit, weaving between team members and mechanics as they go about their pre-race routines. The energy in the air is electric, everyone buzzing with anticipation for the first race of the season later tonight.
You flash your paddock pass at security and head into the Ferrari garage, eyes scanning the organized chaos for the familiar mop of brown hair.
There he is, sitting in his red race suit that matches the iconic color of the Ferrari he drives, focused intently as his mechanics make some last minute adjustments. You walk up behind Charles and place your hands over his eyes.
“Guess who?” You say playfully.
Charles reaches up and removes your hands, a smile breaking across his face as he turns in his seat. “Ah, mon cœur! My favorite surprise.”
You lean down and kiss him softly. “How are things looking for today?”
“Good, good,” he nods. “The team had to change the left front brake duct exit deflector earlier, just as a precaution. But I’m feeling optimistic, the car has been solid all weekend. I think I might even be able to challenge Max for the win if everything goes to plan.”
His confidence makes you smile. Charles has been working so hard, both physically and mentally, to start this season strong. You know a win today would mean the world to him.
“I’ll be cheering the loudest when I see you on that top step today,” you say.
Charles grins. “We’ll see. Still have a race to get through first.”
You lean in to give him a quick kiss and head to the back of the garage so you’re out of the way. The mechanics are in full focus mode now, choreographing their dance around Charles’ car with practiced precision.
Charles goes through his usual pre-race routine — sips of water, reviewing data on the screens, and loosening up his muscles. He’s the picture of calm, but you know him well enough to see the coiled adrenaline thrumming just under the surface, ready to be unleashed once he settles into the cockpit.
The time comes to head out to the grid. Charles pauses before he puts his helmet on, meeting your gaze. You close the distance between you and cup his face in your hands, kissing his lips sweetly. Then you take the helmet from him and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips over the smooth surface where his would be.
“Be safe out there,” you say softly.
He nods, face disappearing behind the tinted visor, and climbs into the Ferrari. You watch as the car pulls away, weaving between other vehicles making their way to the starting grid. With a deep breath, you head deeper into the garage and take a seat next to Charles’ performance coach, Andrea. He hands you a headset so you can listen to Charles’ radio during the race.
“Let’s hope for a good one today,” Andrea says.
You nod, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fit the headset over your ears. On the monitors, you see Charles lining up on the grid in P2 after the formation lap, Max Verstappen’s Red Bull beside him on the front row in P1. The lights go out and the cars leap forward, engines roaring to life. Charles gets a good start, but Max keeps the lead through the first few turns.
The pack of cars higher up on the starting grid stays bunched up through the first few turns, but then you notice Charles starting to fall back little by little. His lap time slows as Max opens up a gap in front.
“The car doesn’t feel right, something with the front end,” Charles says. Your brow furrows in concern.
Only a lap later, George Russell in the Mercedes overtakes Charles on turn 4. Then Perez in the other Red Bull breezes past not long after.
“Come on Charles, stay focused,” you murmur under your breath. But things only seem to be getting worse. Carlos battles with Charles and eventually gets by, which frustrates you to no end. Charles fighting his own teammate for position is the last thing you want to see.
“Something felt very wrong with this set, the fronts were locking up like crazy,” Charles reports over the radio. Your heart sinks. Andrea shakes his head, equally perplexed.
The issues continue to persist. “What’s going on with my front left?” Charles asks, audible tension in his voice. “I just cannot get out of front locking. Everywhere ...”
Xavi, his race engineer, replies calmly, “We have temperature imbalance, higher front left.”
“How much is the imbalance?” Charles asks.
“Around 100 degrees.”
You grimace. That kind of discrepancy could make the car undriveable. Sure enough, Charles continues to struggle. It’s clear he’s fighting with the car now rather than racing the drivers around him.
“My car is fully going to the right when I am braking. With this I cannot fight, it’s dangerous,” Charles says, frustration seeping into his tone. You chew your lip anxiously. The rational part of you wishes Charles would just retire the car before he gets himself hurt trying to wrestle with it. But you also know that’s never been in Charles’ nature — he’ll keep fighting until the very last lap, no matter what.
Lap after lap, Charles battles to keep the car under control. “I think we can forget about driving now. It’s pulling everywhere,” he finally concedes. For a brief moment, you wonder if he’ll pull into the pits and call it a day. But no, your boyfriend is never one to simply give up. After the radio, through sheer force of will, Charles somehow overtakes George to reclaim P4. You can only imagine how hard he must be having to fight to keep the car in the track.
In the end, it’s a disappointing P4 for Charles while his teammate makes it on the podium in P3. As Carlos is lead to the cooldown room with Max and Checo, you watch Charles, frustration etched across his face as he tugs off his helmet and balaclava. He doesn’t even glance your way before the mechanics descend on him to start looking over the car.
Clearly the brake issues have cost him any chance at challenging for the win today. Most other drivers would have given up even trying to reclaim P4. But not your Charles. Never your Charles. Your heart aches for him.
Charles gets led away swiftly for the usual post-race weighing and interviews. You know from his body language that he’s utterly deflated by today’s results.
While the reporters pepper him with questions, you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts. Enough is enough — something is clearly not right with Charles’ car and you want answers.
Your finger hovers over the call button as you contemplate who to reach out to. The last thing you want is for Charles to have to fight against his own machine again. A solution needs to be found immediately, and you know just the person who can help.
With a determined nod, you press call and lift the phone to your ear, ready to get to the bottom of these brake issues once and for all.
***
The phone only rings once before a gruff voice answers. “Boss?”
“Hello, Gianluca,” you say. “I need you to do something for me.”
You go on to explain in detail the brake issues Charles faced during the race, how the problems started right after they replaced the left front brake duct exit deflector.
“I don’t think it was just bad luck,” you say. “Something seems off about the whole situation. I want you to look into it, see if anyone on Charles’ side of the garage could have tampered with his car.”
Gianluca is quiet for a moment. “Sabotage, you think?”
“Possibly. I just … I can’t shake this feeling that someone meant for this to happen to Charles’ car. He truly thought he could at least try to challenge Max for the win, then suddenly it’s like he’s driving an entirely different machine. Too much of a coincidence for my liking.”
“I’ll look into it boss, don’t you worry,” Gianluca says. “I’ll go through the team with a fine tooth comb, see if anything seems out of the ordinary. If someone did intentionally compromise Charles’ car, I’ll find out who and how.”
You let out a breath. “Thank you, Gianluca. Let me know as soon as you learn anything. Charles can’t afford issues like this again.”
“You got it. I’ll be in touch.”
The call ends and you lean back against the garage wall, gaze fixed unseeingly out across the pit lane. Your mind turns over the events of the race, Charles’ baffled frustration over the radio. He’s worked too hard for too long to have valuable points stolen away by something like this. If there is sabotage afoot within the team, you’ll get to the bottom of it.
A few days later you’re back in your study after flying home from Bahrain. A knock at the door interrupts your work and you call for them to enter. Gianluca steps in, an uncharacteristically grim look on his face.
“Boss,” he greets you. Wordlessly, he steps forward and places a thick manila folder on your desk. You flip it open, eyes scanning over photos, documents, even what looks like stills of CCTV footage. Gianluca remains silent, allowing you to take it all in.
“I went over every inch of security camera video from the Bahrain paddock and garage,” Gianluca finally says. “And I found something.”
He leans over your desk and flips to a page in the folder, tapping a finger on a freeze frame showing one of Charles’ mechanics.
“This is Tomaso, one of the brake technicians,” Gianluca explains. “I noticed him acting strange all race day. Fidgety. Nervous. He was trying to hide it but his body language gave it away.”
Your eyes narrow as you study the photo. There is a shifty, almost guilty look about the man as he glances over his shoulder.
“I watched him like a hawk after that,” Gianluca continues. “When the team went to change the brake duct exit deflector, that’s when I saw it happen.”
He flips to another page, this one showing screen captures of CCTV footage in the Ferrari garage a few hours before the race start. You can make out Tomaso slipping the replacement deflector into his pocket before taking out another piece and installing it in Charles’ car. Your blood turns cold.
“He tampered with the part,” Gianluca confirms grimly. “There’s no doubt in my mind he switched that deflector with a compromised one. Sabotage, just like you suspected.”
You sit back, shaking your head in disgusted disbelief. “Why? Why would he do this?”
Gianluca shrugs. “Hard to say for sure. Could be someone paid him off, wants to see Charles fail. But what I know for certain is that he meant to damage Charles’ car.”
You drum your fingers on your desk, thinking hard. This level of betrayal from someone Charles trusts, it’s unthinkable. An affront you won’t let stand.
“You’ve done excellent work, Gianluca,” you finally say, meeting his gaze. “Thank you for getting to the bottom of this. I’ll handle it from here.”
Gianluca nods. “Of course, boss. Let me know if you need anything else.”
He turns and leaves your study, closing the door quietly behind him. You lean back in your chair, fingers steepled under your chin. Your expression is stone, but internally your thoughts roil with anger. Tomaso will pay for this, you’ll see to that.
Charles has enough challenges to face without sabotage from his own team. Your resolve hardens — you won’t stop until justice is served and he can race with full confidence again. The treachery ends now.
***
After Gianluca leaves, your mind turns over what to do about Tomaso. The team flew straight from Bahrain to Saudi Arabia to prepare for the next race, so he’s out of your reach for now. Still, you won’t let him slip away that easily. You pick up your phone and call a trusted associate, instructing him to organize a surveillance team to keep constant eyes on Tomaso until you arrive in Jeddah yourself.
The days crawl by painfully slow as you wait to confront the saboteur. You resist the urge to call Fred Vasseur and have Tomaso removed from the team immediately — better to handle this yourself. Finally, it’s time to fly out for the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. Upon landing, your associate meets you at the airport.
“We have eyes on the target,” he reports. “He’s currently at the hotel bar, quite intoxicated.”
You nod curtly. “Good. Let’s pay him a visit.”
You’re led to the hotel and pointed towards the bar. Sure enough, there’s Tomaso, stumbling drunkenly out the door into the night. Now is your chance. You follow him down the street, waiting until he turns into a shadowy alley to make your move. In a flash you have him by the collar, shoving him against the brick wall.
“What the hell, let me go!” Tomaso slurs, trying to shove you off. But drinking has made him clumsy and weak.
“I don’t think so, Tomaso,” you reply coldly. “We need to have a little chat.”
His eyes widen in fear and confusion. You press on before he can respond.
“Let’s see, Tomaso Barbieri, born May 5th, 1992 in Turin. Moved to Maranello in 2021 to begin work as a mechanic with Scuderia Ferrari. Parents Lucia and Giacomo Barbieri, both schoolteachers. Sister Cecilia studying abroad in London.”
As you rattle off details about his personal life, Tomaso’s eyes grow wider and wider.
“What the hell, how do you know all that?” He stammers. “Who are you? Does Charles know the ugly truth about his girlfriend?”
You fix him with an icy stare. “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that I know exactly who you are, Tomaso. A mechanic for Ferrari … and apparently a master of espionage and sabotage in your spare time.”
Tomaso’s eyes dart wildly, still trying to make sense of the situation in his inebriated state. He attempts an unconvincing laugh.
“What are you talking about man? Sabotage? I think you’ve had too much to drink ...”
Your response is to slam him hard against the wall, causing him to grunt in pain. You lean in close, anger simmering in your eyes.
“Let’s cut the bullshit, Tomaso. I know what you did in Bahrain, switching out the brake duct deflector to sabotage Charles’ car. Did you think you could get away with it? That there wouldn’t be consequences?”
Up close, you can see the color drain from his face, eyes wide with fear. He tries to retain some composure.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeats weakly. “I would never sabotage Charles’ car, I want him to win ...”
You slam him against the wall again, cutting off his lies.
“I said, enough bullshit!” you snarl. “We have you on video. We saw everything. We know you pocketed the real deflector and installed a defective one instead.”
He is trembling now, any hint of drunkenness replaced by sobering fear.
“Please,” he whimpers pathetically. “I’ll do anything, just please let me go. I made a mistake ...”
You shake your head in disgust. “A mistake? You betrayed Charles’ trust and tried to ruin his race out of what? Jealousy? Greed?”
Tomaso says nothing, eyes downcast in shame. You take a breath and continue in a low, menacing tone.
“Here are your options. One: you go directly to Vasseur first thing in the morning and resign from Ferrari immediately. You will leave the team and ensure you are never so much as in the same country as Charles again. Two: I deal with you myself, in a much less pleasant manner. The choice is yours, Tomaso. What’s it going to be?”
He meets your steely gaze again, jaw clenched. “I can’t just quit,” he says hoarsely. “My job is my life. You might as well just kill me.”
You purse your lips and shake your head. “I was afraid you’d say that. Very well.”
In one swift motion you draw your gun from its concealed holster and press the barrel firmly under Tomaso’s chin. He recoils in terror, plastered back against the wall.
“Last chance,” you say calmly. “Walk away from Ferrari and never look back, or your days end tonight in this alley.”
Sweat drips down his brow as the gun digs harder into his throat. His eyes are saucers of fear, flitting between your steely gaze and the weapon poised to end his life.
“Well?” You ask after a long silence. “What’s it going to be?”
Tomaso swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing against the gun barrel. When he speaks, his voice is a terrified croak.
“I … I won’t quit. I can’t.” He closes his eyes in resignation, awaiting his fate.
You click your tongue in disappointment. “That’s unfortunate. I wish it hadn’t come to this.”
Your finger tightens almost imperceptibly on the trigger …
“Wait, wait!” Tomaso cries out, hands raised in desperation. “I’ll do it, I’ll quit! Just please, don’t hurt me!”
You pause, gun still aimed steadily at his throat. “And why should I believe you now?”
He swallows hard, eyes brimming with tears. “I swear, I’ll resign first thing tomorrow. You’ll never see me near the team again. Just let me go, I’m begging you!”
You consider him coldly for a moment before lowering the gun. Tomaso sags back against the wall in relief. But you’re not done with him yet.
“Who paid you?” You demand. “Who put you up to sabotaging Charles’ car?”
The blood drains from his face again. “I can’t tell you that. They’ll kill me, and my family ...”
In a flash the gun is back at his throat, your grip like iron on his shirt collar.
“I assure you, I can do much worse than they ever could,” you say menacingly. “Now give me a name, or you can say goodbye.”
Tomaso shakes uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face. You can see the internal struggle, debating which is the lesser evil — defying you or those he conspired with. Finally, he slumps in defeat and leans in close, voice barely a whisper.
“It was ...”
He utters a name directly into your ear. Your eyes widen briefly in surprise before narrowing again. You release Tomaso and take a step back, processing this new information.
“I see,” you say slowly. You nod over your shoulder and two of your associates emerge from the shadows.
“Get him out of my sight,” you order. They grab Tomaso roughly by the arms. He sags between them, the fight gone out of him completely. You fix him with an icy stare.
“My men will escort you to the airport,” you inform him. “You will be on the first flight out of this hemisphere. And you are never to go near Ferrari or Charles again — don’t even think about trying to contact the team to explain yourself. As far as they will be concerned, you simply resigned. Am I clear?”
Tomaso nods wordlessly, defeated. The men begin dragging him away towards a waiting black SUV.
“Oh, and Tomaso?” You call after him. He glances back warily. “If I ever see or hear of you so much as setting foot in a paddock again, you won’t get a second chance. You’ll simply disappear. Permanently.”
The color drains from his face one final time. Then he is shoved into the back of the SUV, the door slamming shut behind him. You watch impassively as the vehicle drives off into the night, carrying the saboteur away for good.
Or so he thinks.
Unbeknownst to Tomaso, you have contacts everywhere, including at his destination. The second he steps off the plane, thinking he’s escaped your wrath, your local associates will be waiting. And his life will be ended swiftly and permanently, as promised. You don't make idle threats after all.
Betrayal of this magnitude must be punished, no matter how far Tomaso runs. The message will be clear — cross you, and nowhere on Earth will be safe. You've given the order, and your associates are nothing if not ruthlessly efficient. By the time the sun rises, there will be one less threat to Charles’ success. The sabotage ends here and now. You'll see to that personally, no matter the cost.
For a moment you simply stand alone in the dark alley, processing everything. This is bigger than you initially realized. Tomaso was clearly just a pawn, the sabotage orchestrated by someone higher up the chain — someone with enough power and influence to scare a man into risking his career and life.
Your jaw clenches as you think about Charles being targeted like this, not only being robbed of a deserved finish but also put in danger as collateral. Well, it ends now. The shadowy orchestrator thinks they can get away with playing games in the dark? They’re about to realize just how big of a mistake they’ve made.
Now that you have a name, you can start unraveling the web, tracing every thread back to find where it leads. And when you do find the spider at the center? You’ll make sure they can never endanger Charles again. For good.
Satisfied with this plan, you straighten your dress and exit the alley onto the brighter streets. Time to put your considerable resources to work. Phone records, financials, travel records — you’ll dig through it all, leave no stone unturned.
And you have a feeling the name Tomaso gave you is only the first thread. This goes deeper. But it doesn’t matter. You’ve dealt with far more dangerous criminal elements before. These shadow games don’t scare you. You’ll keep following the threads until you reach the source, uprooting the entire enterprise in the process.
By the time you reach your car, your phone is already buzzing with incoming calls and updates from your associates. They know the drill by now — when you give the word, they mobilize into action immediately, utilizing the full extent of your influence and power.
For you, they’ll tap every resource, call in every favor owed. Because you protect what’s yours at all costs. And Charles? He’s under your protection now, whether he knows it or not. So for his sake, you’re going to find the ones trying to undermine him, and you’re going to tear out the threat root and stem. Permanently.
Let them keep playing their games for now, oblivious to the axe hanging over their heads. They’ll find out soon enough that nobody crosses you and gets away with it. And when that time comes, no mercy will be shown. No loose ends left to unravel.
Time to remind them exactly why your reputation precedes you in certain circles, why your name is uttered only in hushed whispers. They’ll regret the day they dared threaten someone you care about. You’ll see to that personally.
With your jaw set in determination, you climb into the idling car. Time to go hunting.
***
Two days after dealing with Tomaso, you make your way through the Jeddah Corniche Circuit paddock towards the Ferrari motorhome.
Your stiletto heels click along the pavement and you glance down, frowning slightly at the flecks of blood still staining the pointed toes of your red soles. Such a shame about these Louboutins, you really love this pair. But a bit of blood is a small price to pay for protecting Charles, especially after personally dealing with the orchestrator who had been paying Tomaso off.
You had tracked them down and made sure they could never threaten Charles’ success again. Subtly, you crouch down and wipe at the stains, managing to remove the worst of it.
Satisfied, you straighten and continue on your way. The familiar bright red motorhome comes into view and you sweep inside, immediately spotting Charles standing with some team members. His face lights up when he sees you, excusing himself to rush over.
“Mon amour, you made it!” He exclaims, enveloping you in a tight hug. You melt against him, breathing in his familiar scent.
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss seeing you race for anything,” you reply, pecking his lips sweetly.
Charles takes your hand, leading you to a quiet corner where you can talk. “I missed you so much while you were away,” he says. “But I’m so glad you’re here now.”
You smile and stroke his cheek. “Me too, darling. But I’m here now and I’ll be cheering the loudest for you all race.”
Charles’ grin falters a bit. “It’s been a strange few days actually. Tomaso, one of my mechanics, just up and quit in the middle of the week. No explanation or anything.”
You school your features into a look of surprise. “Really? That’s so odd.”
Charles nods. “Very weird timing to just resign like that. But maybe it’s for the best if his heart wasn’t fully in it anymore.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” you agree. “The team is better off without any negativity.”
Before Charles can reply, Andrea enters the motorhome. “Charles, time for some quick physio before the race.”
Charles sighs but nods, giving you a swift kiss before following Andrea out. You watch him go fondly before making your way trackside to the Ferrari garage. The mechanics are in race mode, voices terse and movements precise as they make final adjustments on Charles’ car.
You stay back, letting them work, thoughts drifting back to everything you did to get to this point. A small price to pay to ensure Charles can race with a fair chance again.
Finally it’s time for Charles to get in the car. You approach as he’s putting on his helmet and balaclava, stealing a tender kiss that he returns happily. Then you lift the helmet and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips softly over the smooth surface where his lips would be. Your ritual.
“Be safe out there,” you murmur. Charles squeezes your hand, then lowers himself into the cockpit. You watch tensely as the car pulls away, the lights of the circuit glittering against the dark night sky.
In the garage you pace anxiously throughout the race, listening to the radio chatter. Again Charles qualified P2, behind Max Verstappen’s Red Bull. But this time, you have no sabotage to worry about. The Ferrari proves fast and consistent all race, not quite keeping pace with the Red Bull but allowing Charles to maintain P2 smoothly.
The SF-24 doesn’t have the speed to challenge Max, but there’s no issues, no sudden grip loss or components failing. Your shoulders finally uncoil with relief as Charles crosses the line to take P2, securing a podium finish.
The garage explodes into cheers and applause as Charles pulls into parc fermé. He’s beaming as he climbs from the car, pulling off his gloves and balaclava. You run over to the barriers and throw your arms around him ecstatically as soon as he nears.
“I’m so proud of you!” You exclaim. Charles hugs you back tightly.
“Thank you, mon cœur,” he says warmly. “It felt good to finally have a clean race again.”
You just smile knowingly, heart bursting with joy at seeing Charles on the podium where he belongs. During the celebrations, he keeps meeting your gaze in the crowd, smiling and pointing down to you in the crowd of red. As he sprays champagne with Max and Checo, he looks utterly elated and at peace. No frustration or disappointment, just the satisfaction of a hard fought race with the result he deserved.
Afterwards, in the privacy of Charles’ room, he takes you into his arms again. “I don’t know what changed or why, but the car just felt right this weekend,” he says. “It makes me so optimistic for the rest of the season.”
You stroke his face gently. “You deserve it. All your hard work is paying off.” Inside, you allow yourself a small, satisfied smile. Charles doesn’t need to know just how much work went on behind the scenes to get here. He only needs to focus on driving his heart out, and securing the championships you know he’s destined for. The rest is simply details.
“Thank you again for being here,” Charles murmurs, pulling you close. “Having your support means everything to me.”
You rest your head on his shoulder contentedly. “Always, my love. I’ll be right by your side.” And you mean that with every fiber of your being. No matter what happens going forward, whoever tries to interfere or stand in Charles’ way, they’ll have to go through you first.
You won’t let anyone toy with Charles’ performance and safety again. The lesson has been sent — Charles is untouchable now. Dare to threaten the success that is his, and you’ll come for what’s theirs.
But Charles doesn’t need to carry that burden. He just needs to keep his head held high and drive his heart out. You’ll handle the rest. It’s the least you can do for the man you love more than life itself.
So as Charles holds you close, you silently promise to always shield him from the ugly underbelly that lurks beneath the glitz and glamour of Formula 1.
He gives so much of himself already in pursuit of greatness. Let others vie for power and influence through dirty tricks and mind games. That’s not Charles’ way, which is why you’ll ensure he remains untainted. For him, you’d walk through fire without a second thought.
So really, what’s a little blood on your Louboutins in the grand scheme of things? A man like Charles Leclerc deserves that and so much more. And you’re going to give it to him, no matter the cost.
Let them keep playing their games in the shadows. Little do they know, you’ve already checkmated them all.
𝓓𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂!!!!! 😈😈😈😈
Why does he always look so good???
🥵🥵🤤
Boss 😎❤️👀
upon my sister's request, have lando norris in the piastri basket (original post by @slugesh here)
(edit: added closeups because i forgot he is Tiny in mobile view)
send me an angel - deacon kay x reader
Summary: When the reader gets in danger, Deacon needs being protective of her.
Request by @kenzie30david
Warnings: mentions of threat, swearing
English is not my first language and unfortunately it is not proofread (sorry)
Deacon lost ground as soon as he entered the headquarter, looking at the digital table where there were photos of 14 women, all with name for identification and age below. The only picture that mattered was of him, the woman he loved and that made him lose whatever sanity he had left.
“May I know what that means?” Deacon asks trying to sound as professional as possible.
“They are our possible victims, this morning eight of them received death and kidnapping threats and they all have in common a relationship with someone from SWAT.” Hondo responds.
“How are you sure they all have a relationship with someone from here?” Chris asks.
“The information is from the areas responsible for data collection, we are profiling them to find out who exactly they are with to keep them safe.” Hondo says
Deacon takes one last look at the table and leaves the area to try to call you while the rest of the team continues to work on locating each of the girls. After five failed attempts that took him straight to voicemail, he lets out a frustrated sigh and heads back to where he left the team.
“All are identified, only this one is missing.” Lucca says pointing to his picture.
“She must have been deceived among the others. We can call and check.” Street says, making everyone on the team agree.
"It won't be necessary." Deacon is serious. The entire team turns their heads to him, curiosity brimming on their faces.
"Why not? Do you know something?” Chris asks crossing his arms
"She is my girlfriend." Deacon responds with a sigh.
Silence dominated the environment, no one there knew for sure how to react, no one expected that Deacon would have someone after Annie.
“What do you mean girlfriend? You didn't say anything to us.” Luca says in disbelief.
"I know, I should have told you but she didn't want to and honestly I wasn't ready either." Deacon answers seriously.
Deacon's phone starts to ring, which makes his heart pound in his chest. As soon as he turned the viewfinder towards him, he could read his name on the screen.
"Why didn't you answer me?" Deacon asks.
"Because I was busy." You answer.
"I need you to come here now." Deacon says making you take a long breath on the other end of the line.
“What sudden authority is this? You were never like that.” You say worried.
“Babe, please… I need you to come here. You are in danger.” Deacon says, running an idle hand through his hair.
On the other end of the line you didn't know what to do, you just hung up the call and ran out taking the first taxi that passed. As soon as you get to Deacon, the first thing you see is your photo on the digital tablet.
"What is it?" You ask feeling your heart speed up even more.
"Someone is threatening the fellow SWAT members, we are investigating to find out the motivation but so far we don't have much." Chris says.
You blink several times and feel like you would start to hyperventilate. Deacon also notices and walks over to you, guiding you to a chair.
"I'm going to have to be stuck here is that it?" You ask, feeling tears fall.
“No, no way… we will work this out. I will never let anything happen to you my love, I will always protect you.” Deacon says kissing the top of her head. You really hoped that everything would be okay, but despite your fears you trusted Deacon. He was her guardian angel.