#driver scenarios with em

[holllandtrash]

wait I saw the comment about little Ricciardo !!!

Could you imagine she met Lando when he and Danny drove together and Lando had a crush on her but never acted on it and then like months(or years idk) they reconnect and maybe SHE says something or hints at having a crush on him too

omg

“You never made a move.”

Lando, instinctively or maybe not, shuffled closer to you. Both of you leaning with your backs against the railing of the balcony because looking down at the Monaco streets below was making you a little nauseous, and Lando would have felt like an idiot if he didn’t turn around when you did.

So there you were, looking through the tinted glass into whosever party this was. The music was deafening evening from outside and Lando knew there were about fifty reasons as to why he shouldn’t have followed you out here, half of them pertaining to Daniel, but he did anyway.

He was thankful he did, because if he hadn’t he would have missed the liquid courage bubbling up inside you until you finally blurted out those few little words.

You never made a move.

He turned his head towards yours, telling himself that your arms crossed over your chest was because you were cold and not defensive.

“I didn’t think I was allowed to,” his response was as honest as it could be.

Since the first day he met you, not just that but the first time he even laid eyes on you, he had known you were off limits. If the uneasy vibe in the paddock when it came to drivers and other drivers family members wasn’t obvious enough, Daniel placing a firm hand to Lando’s chest as he walked by and uttering the words ‘absolutely not’ was a good reminder as to why Lando needed to keep his distance.

“Of course you were allowed to,” you scoffed. “Daniel doesn’t control me, nor does he control you.”

God Lando loved your accent. The Aussie twang, the way your lips curled as you spoke. He would happily spend a whole day sitting and doing nothing on the condition that you just spoke to him for hours on end.

You didn’t seem annoyed, per say but you weren’t…impressed either at Lando’s presence. Or maybe you were just a little too drunk, Lando really wasn’t sure.

Regardless, you captivated him. You did then and you still did now.

So much so that even when his muffled name being called could be heard through the glass and you turned your head to look, his eyes remained on you.

Maybe some sense was knocked into you at that moment because you stepped away from the railing, from Lando, and made your way to the door with the intention of going back inside to join the party.

“Am I too late?”

Lando didn’t actually mean to ask that question out loud but thank god he did because you stopped walking. You gave him a look of confusion, but stopped walking nonetheless.

“Too late for what?”

Lando cleared his throat, “To make a move.”

And there it was. That sort of half smirk-half smile that had him weak at the knees. The corner of your lip was pulled upwards, bringing attention to the shade of pink in your cheeks, the glint in your eye.

You said nothing. You didn’t need to, really. Your sly expression gave away the fact that Lando, most certainly, was not too late.

Idk where this came from I need to go to bed

#anyway goodnight #driver scenarios with em #Lando Norris #lando norris x reader

[formulafics]

Hi, love your fics!! ❤️❤️ Could I request a charles x reader? One where she's also a driver (your choice which team) and she's from Poland and their flags just look like 🇵🇱🇲🇨 and it's like a "funny" coincidence to the fans or something, maybe it's a charles and y/n thing to always point out how similar their flags are

★ IF YOU CANT BEAT ‘EM, JOIN ‘EM | CL16

Scenario: time and time again, your flag gets mixed up with your boyfriends’, and vice versa. this time around, something a little more interesting than just a mixed up flag happens.

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader (mclaren driver)

A/N: i’m so sorry this has taken me so long to get to! thank you so much for your patience 🫶🏻 this is actually such a cute idea, i love it. i hope you enjoy the fic! <3 ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST CHARLES FIC ‼️WHO CHEERED?

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, f1, yn_ln, and 1,360,155 others

charles_leclerc good to be back on the podium…even with the flag mishap. i wouldn’t want it to be any flag but @/yn_ln’s.

view all 12,345 comments

yn_ln i could say the same for your flag. congrats on p2 baby you deserve it! 🥰

scuderiaferrari if you can’t beat them join them. right @/yn_ln ?

⤷ yn_ln 👀

⤷ rizzciardo hey so what does this mean lol

landonorris get a room

⤷ yn_ln bet 🤭

leclercnorrisrussel WE CAN BE WORLD CHAMPION I SAID

lovelyleclerc yk its a good day when yn and charles are on the podium together

lovelyleclerc WAIT A MINUTE WTF DO YOU MEAN FERRARI

yn_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, alex_albon, georgerussel63, and 864,562 others

yn_leclerc (accidentally) took his flag, joined his team, and now taking his name. 🤭❤️

thanks lando for taking the pictures 🫶🏻

view all 9,652 comments

charles_leclerc through sickness, health, and mixed flags 😂

⤷ yn_leclerc forever and always baby ❤️

landonorris thank god i don’t have to spend another year with you

⤷ yn_leclerc just bc we aren’t gonna be teammates doesn’t mean we aren’t friends 🤨 you’re not getting rid of me that easily mister. also i gave you photo credits i expect you to be nicer

pierregasly congratulations ❤️ love you guys

maxverstappen1 💙

georgerussel63 congrats guys 💙

carmenmundt so happy for you both! congratulations, mr and mrs. leclerc! ❤️

paularon_ @/arthur_leclerc can be the flower child at the wedding!

lovelyleclerc SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP ARE YOU SO SERIOUS RIGHT NOW

ferraricharles BABE WAKE UP YN AND CHARLES ARE ENGAGED

stardustf1 serving parents more than ever with this one

yn_leclerc and scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, alex_albon, f1, paularon_, arthur_leclerc, landonorris, and 876,542 others

yn_leclerc a wise man once said “if you can’t beat them, join them” and join them i did. 🤭 can’t wait to see what the 2024 season brings!

view all 7,672 comments

charles_leclerc i love you ❤️ can’t wait

⤷ yn_leclerc i love you more

oscarpiastri thank you for the seat

⤷ yn_leclerc your welcome pls take care of lando

⤷ thumbsuplando CRYING I ALREADY MISS YN AND LANDO SO BADLY

scuderiaferrari happy to have you! 🥰

lovelyleclerc everytime i get the notif that you post, i go insane. i just wanted you to know that!

norrisnation i’m gonna miss you in mclaren but im so happy for you 😭🧡

ynsnumberone MOTHER

⤷ rizzciardo it truly isn’t a yn post if there isn’t someone in the comments calling her mother

thank you for reading! all feedback is appreciated! — dae <3

💌 | @renarots @jsjcue @lovstappen @illicitverstappen @treehouse-mouse @minkyungseokie @lokietro @spidersophie @arkhammaid @vellicora @stopeatread @motorsp0rt @leclercvsx @cixrosie @piasstrisblog @vroomvroomverstappen @harrysdimple05 @sadieurlady @fastcarsandshit @kortneej81 @i-love-ptv @pretty-little-bunny382728 @elliegrey2803 @yagirlhayes

#✩ . cl¹⁶ files 🏎️ #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 drabble #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #formula one fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 x female reader #formula one smau #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #formula one blurbs #formula one fluff #formula one x reader #formula one fic #ferrari x reader #ferrari f1 #f1 x female driver #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc fluff

[sherwees]

pizza pizza

cw : very corny pizza boy porn scenario, deepthroating, dumbification, a tinsy tiny bit of fluff, you could tell I had fun with this, colors and links made the fic fun in the process, hendery employee of the month, hendery monster cock, does semen and pizza go together (no? okay then.)

apart of the nct corny porn plots series!

you were hungry as hell.

your stomach caved in with every growl, the intro to that one adult swim show with that one white guy and his friends and it's just beer beer and beer. is that seriously what men only drank? it made your stomach churn, great.. now you were nauseous and hungry.

rolling over sighing, you break your back into an uncanny angle to grab your phone from the floor. you sighed in relief when it came out unblemished, it probably fell when you were having a tantrum earlier about every restaurant being closed.

only little caesars was open.

and you cried.

who wants a greasy pie with cheese and whatever topping, possibly meat in the middle of the night. it'll probably just leave you uncomfortably full and queasy. even the thought at the grease caked up around your mouth was.. ew.. there was a lone chinese restaurant open too but.. just no.

ah yes, maybe you could try going to sleep.

never mind, another fuckass chipotle ad played.

your ears perked to the sizzling and contemporary deep male voice whilst scrolling past an arby's ad, your stomach growled.. to a fucking meat sandwich. oh you were near starvation.

you called up the nearest shop, the receiver sighed before he said, “welcome to.. little caesars.. uhm, how could I help you?” he sounded bummed out but his tone made you roll on your stomach and kick your legs.

“hmmm..– he huffed at your voice– excuse me?”

“what?”

“why'd you do that?”

“do what?”

“THAT.”

he sighs, giving a full visual of the overworked male slumping his shoulders. “do.. what?” the last syllable was dragged out with tiredness.

“you fucking–you let out a dramatic exasperated sigh, attempting to mock him–at me.”

“well maybe–” he paused his objection and realized his actions based off the sudden drop of his tone. “wait.. sorry. uh, I'm just stressed–” he possibly scratched his head based off the small pause. “what do you want..?”

“uhm,” you mumbled, “do you guys still have the pineapple pizza.. urm, special after midnight offer..” it was the cheapest thing on the menu.

“we surely do!” he said weirdly sultry but playfully at the same time. for some reason, an idea popped into your mind.

“um.. what's the total?” you audibly stifled a giggle.

“um.. 7.57.” he mocked you but you didn't process it until way after you got off the phone.

“also.. can you send your hotte–”

“it's only me.” he deadpanned. your smile and giggles dropped, well damn bitch.

“oh.” you hung up and threw your phone across the bed. that was.. uh. em.. urm.. embarrassing. but now you had to wait, confront, apologize to this poor man you managed to stress out within a sentence, go to bed, probably not even eat the pizza, poke the pineapples out and feel embarrassed for the rest of your life.

you spaced out, thinking about the scenarios and possible circumstances you'll take just for him to forgive you. maybe, the second you open the door, you throw yourself into his arms.. maybe, give him a 100 dollar tip.. kiss him.. kill him, hmmmm.. singing confessions II by usher?

the 100 dollar trick will definitely work, but let's double it down to a 20 or a 10.. but first, you gotta find your wallet.

you scrambled to your kitchen to find your purse, rummaging through your lotions, vaselines, lip glosses, car and house keys and finally.. your wallet. opening it, you're met with an array of mismatched cards; victoria secret, bath and body works, marianos..? uhm anyways, your drivers license and your card!

did they take card though?

who even carries bills anymore?

the doorbell rang.

“it's pouring out here! can you open up please, I have your pizza and I really don't wanna get it wet..” his baritone yet desperate voice called from outside the door. you panicked for a bit, hands frantically searching through your papers before you sighed, trudging towards the door.

opening the door, you nearly folded inward at the most delectable man you've ever seen right in front your very eyes. he was literally drenched, his orange shirt clung to his torso; his collar bones being his most prominent feature and the extrusive trail of his abs.

you finally met eyes with him, his brown hair was dewy and besides the vivid familiar smell of pizza, you picked up the scent of rain and nature from him.

why are his eyes so big too..

his nose was really cute and perky too,

ew.. are you checking out the delivery man?!

“pizza! pizza! your double delight.. uh.. hot and ready for a bite!” hendery (you now noticed his name tag) sing-songed, swaying his figure slightly to the imaginary beat.

“here's my card!” he tsked and sighed, gripping the pizza box which you now noticed was weirdly close to his crotch.

“now, why would I take your card..?” he tilted his head with an eyebrow raise, placing one of his hands on his hip.

“because it's the way I'm pay–” hendery rolled his eyes, quite dramatically at your rebuttal and actual stupidness. who the fuck thinks that delivery drivers– especially from a cheap restaurant like little caesars would be carrying a fuckass card reader, that's more for chick fil a.

“does it look like I have a card reader?!” he said monotonous, you noticed that he said it slowly as if you were stupid or something.

oh shit.

his eyes zoned in on your curves before they trailed up to your face, “how bout this, since you're so pretty..” he looked down at the box, sucking his bottom lip before looking back up at you.

“I'll give you it for free, it's on me sweetheart..” his pearly whites flashed for a second in a chaste smile.

“wait? really?!” your stomach dropped in excitement. he reveled in your happiness, he swore your smile was the prettiest.

“they call me the employee of the month for a reason..” hendery said, leaning on the door with the pizza box still tight to his crotch. “how about I come inside, it's pouring out here..” his eyes drifted to the rain jumping off the pavement then back to you with a slight smirk.

“a gift for a gift, yeah?” without waiting for your response, he stepped in with a mischievous grin.

“well, okay then..” you muttered, making sure to keep your eyes on the strange male whilst you shuffle behind him to shut the door.

there was something keeping the box ajar. through the slit, it looked like a tip of something, uhm.. that's not his dick right?

let's hope it's a container of garlic butter.

“uhm, what's that..” the tip of your finger nudged at the foreign object poking out, he hissed at the contact. genuinely, you cannot explain how you felt in that moment. shock, confusion, maybe a bit of terror ran through your body, you tried to pull away but his calloused hand gripped your wrist.

his other hand flicked open the pizza box, was that a pineapple ring around his dick?! your jaw fucking rolled to the ground, why was it so wide, so elongated and veiny and the worst part was.. THAT SHIT WAS LEAKING ALL OVER YOUR PIZZA.

“bro, you're leaking all over my pizza! I was fucking starving!” you whined, snatching the pizza box from his hands and throwing it on the ground.

“well, if you insist..” his hand went to your waist and squeezed before lowering you to your knees slowly. “have a taste..?” his other hand rubbed his massive member leisurely, positioning his cockhead at your pouty lips. “come on now..” he took the pineapple off and threw it on the ground.

you were hesitative, but you at least have to meet him in the middle. you obliged and opened your mouth, looking up at him; you noticed the sharpness of his jaw line. goddamn, he was hot. kitty licking his salty and sweet tip, a blob of precum landed on your top lip causing you to flinch.

he giggled at that. bitchass.

the hand at the back of your hand coerced your head forward, the tang of sweat ran through your taste buds. the taste of pineapple and salt became stronger as he pushed forward and stretched your mouth past your limits, you shivered and moaned. hendery's hand wrapped around your jaw before pressing on your neck, feeling around the bulge of his hefty cock through your skin.

“you're so hungry~ hm?” he ridiculed you before pulling back a bit and slamming himself back in. “don't worry, I'll make sure you're satisfied.” he gripped your locks before maneuvering your head harshly on his member, using your mouth like a cock sleeve.

you gagged, choked and flailed around but he didn't let up, his tip rubbed your tonsils sore. his abdomen was flush with your nose before he pulled out, a trail of spit, phlegm and precum followed.

your face was warm with tears and spit, you looked up at him; he was smirking. hendery suddenly yanked you up and pushed you against the wall, he played with the strings of your pyjama pants. “so fucking cute,” he murmured whilst squeezed your cheeks, his hand was as big as your fucking head.

“tell me what you want, honey..”

“I want my pizz–”

“damn, you'll get your pizza soon!” hendery yelled with wide eyes, shoving his thumb in your mouth. “shit, you're like a fuckin’ baby..” his salty digit rubbed a circle on your tongue, your teeth instinctively grazed the skin of the digit before biting down on it lightly. damn, you were hungry. his free hand shoved your fluffy pants to the floor with a small thud, you winced at the contact of his clammy hand fondling your ass.

it was his turn to fall to his knees, his hands fell to your thighs to squeeze and massage them before he shoved his face inbetween your legs. his tongue spread through your folds, sucking on your clit like a baby bottle.

you moaned and writhed but still had a sense of embarrassment of the sounds that resounded off the walls. he looked up at you with those fuckass doe eyes, you nearly fumbled into a ball of nothing right there. his left moved to your ass but his right stayed at your thighs, your head spun from his doings.

he then started to become reluctant, his eyes rolled back multiple times; immersing himself in the flavors of your savory juices. to be honest, the sounds of him slurping makes you want a baja blast from taco bell.

you just don't know why either.

“fuck do you think you could take me, princess?” hendery pulled away, his mouth messy with slick and a trail of drool dripping and clinging to his chin.

pulling you out of your baja blast daydream, hendery's eyes looked eager and bigg-ER like what the fuck? was he giving you puppy eyes?!

“uhm..” you looked down at his cock, it twitched like it was waving at you. “I'll see.” you shrugged and hendery fucking SMILED. again.

oh my gosh, he's so cuteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

hendery stood up, the height difference was now more intimidating now. you only had view of his neck once he came closer, you were kinda upset but lightened (and tightened) up once his bulbous tip rubbed against your damp hole. you could already tell that he was too big, his tip felt heavy..

“wait..!” you screamed before he pushed in, hendery sighed before looking down at you. his brown pupils bored into your uncertain ones, “what if you tear through my ass and create two holes like some king louis xiv shit..” he gave you another fuckass smile but this one was reassuring, you giggled unironically.

“you'll be fine!” he rolled his eyes but this time with a playful intention and kissed your forehead. after almost going into shock, he pushes himself in; you both grunt at the first contact. the smooth ridges of your pussy gripped him so well, practically milking him; hendery even looked at you to see if you noticed but your eyes were shut trying to accommodate to the monster's intrusion.

his shoulders slumped, guess he'll go easy on you. but you were so beautiful when you struggled.. hendery decided to test the waters once he sheathed at your cervix, he craned his neck to bite yours. you only whimpered and helped once he started to pick up a slow, steady pace just for you. the string in your stomach started to get tangled and soon break, you even started to tear up from the waves of ecstasy that launched throughout your body like mini sparklers.

sooner than later, he started pounding into you and everything around you felt humid.. your inner thighs were a sticky mess, it felt like your neck was being sucked by a vacuum and pricked by a toothpick and coated with hendery's slobber mixed with yours. you didn't even realize your mouth was agape, close it.

“sweetheart– holy shit!” you must've clenched around him or something, you didn't know what was what anymore. you might've even been deranged from the fucking monster cock that alternated your intestines functions and forms. “you're taking me so we-ll..” hendery's voice cracked a bit at the end. his jaw was unhinged, eyes shut until he looked down at the connection of your bodies.

hendery's cock swelled and twitched inside of you, emitting another moan from you and causing you to position your leg up higher. you literally wanted him embedded inside of you at this point.

“I think I'm gon–” you cut yourself off once that one particular thrust threw you off the edge. hendery's abdomen tensed when your walls pulsated around him in an erratic, yet unsteady rhythm. but the thing is, your high wasn't as long lived because once your post nut clarity hit you harder than that one ball during gym class in middle school.

you were fucking.. the pizza man.. in the middle of the night.

LIKE A FUCKING PORNO?

man oh man, you were in the fucking gutter, deep in it.. you felt like there was an audience of ghosts making fun of you, this was so fucking embarassing.

hendery pulled out of you with a pop, everything was black. did you go blind?! oh no, you just had your eyes shut. you opened them and gasped once you realized, the dick was so good, you thought you went blind. he started to gather himself but he snatched glances at you like he wanted to say something or do something. but you only stared at the stairs, what else did he expect?

he was only a delivery boy after all.

“deadass..” you croaked out of the blue, a lazy smile forming at the edge of your lips as you pondered on the unknown idea. hope resonated in his soul and visibly on his face when he turned around. “what if you tried the jizz pizza? the one you had your cock all over earlier..” you asked confidently and with a hint of curiosity, your foot nudged at his with a small snort.

hendery looked at the box, then looked at you with reassurance. it's not like you were daring him or holding him at gun point, it was just question. but something urged him in his heart that made him want to please you for some reason, like he needed to.

“are you serious?” he questioned, concern and something else you couldn't sense was etched in his features.

“yeah, try the jizz pizza!”

taglist : @haechansbbg

#nct smut #smut #kpop smut #nct imagines #wayv smut #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct drabbles #nct dream smut #hendery fic #hendery smut #hendery scenarios #hendery x reader #hendery #nct #wayv #nct fanfic #nct fic #nct hard hours #kpop oneshot

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Saw that requests are closed but I'm itching to share one scenario. He's a playboy & party animal. She shows up at his party. He's immediately interested. Trying to seduce her but she's tough. At some point she makes a comment about his last race. Then he finds out that she knows a whole lot about racing. People tell him that she got dumped by another playboy who she met at illegal street racing event when they both participated. Now she despise all the playboys but the F1 driver takes it as a challenge to prove that he's way better than her ex. Idk with who. Maybe Gasly? I'm just horny for that man

Playboy || PG10 {1}

Pairings: Pierre Gasly x mechanic!fem!reader Warnings: bad language, alcohol, violence WC: 2.9k F1 Masterlist || One || Two

Pierre slapped Charles' chest as he draped an arm over his friend’s shoulders. “Who’s that?” He pointed a ringed finger to the dance floor where you were dancing alone, eyes closed and hips swaying sensually to the beat. 

Charles laughed and shook his head as he saw who Pierre was looking at. “Don’t bother, mate. She’s not interested.”

Pierre watched you start to sashay your way to the bar with an empty glass and swallowed the last mouthful of his own drink. “We’ll see about that,” he said with a wink before following your path.

“Hennessy on the rocks,” you ordered above the music. You probably should have mixed it with something but you weren’t in the right state of mind to think about the consequences. You only wanted to get drunk fast.

“Make that two,” Pierre said as he stepped into the narrow space beside you, half his body pressing against yours. “Put ‘em on my tab.”

You dragged your eyes over the man and knew his type in an instant. Self-assured and cocky, the top buttons of his shirt hanging open to show the sun-kissed skin beneath. Yeah, you didn’t need another guy like him in your life. “I can get my own drink, thanks.”

“An independent woman, I can appreciate the sentiment,” he said with a smirk that promised a whole lot of fun between the sheets. “Do you have a name? Or should I just call you Beautiful.”

“Wow, does that line actually get you laid?“

“Ask me again in the morning.”

You grabbed your drink from the bar top and turned your back as you rolled your eyes, making your way through the crowd to lose yourself in the music once more. When you chose your spot in the midst of the other dancers you weren’t expecting to feel an arm curl around your waist, or to see that it belonged to Pierre. Most men knew to keep away.

“You must have hit your head pretty hard when you crashed last weekend,” you said as you looked down at his hand splayed across your abdomen. Rings adorned his fingers and thick veins popped along his muscled forearm before disappearing under his rolled up sleeves. “Or, you’re just not very bright.”

“So you know who I am,” he chuckled in your ear and you tipped your head back to meet his eyes.

“So you don’t know who I am.” Your laugh was taunting and you hoped it would send him off with his tail between his legs but he seemed to be even more intrigued. “I’ve been with guys like you, Gasly. Playboys with fast cars only want a pretty face in the passenger seat, and that just doesn’t do it for me.”

“Then what does?”

His lips were only an inch from yours and you realised your bodies were still moving to the beat, his chest flush with your back. Turning to face him, you planted your palm in the centre of his chest and felt a chain of a necklace tucked under his shirt.

“You’ll never know,” you whispered as your breath kissed the shell of his ear before pushing him away. “Goodnight, Pierre.”

“À bientôt, Beautiful,” he replied with a smirk as he held his drink up. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I told you so.” Charles had watched his friend leave the dancefloor alone and shook his head when Pierre arrived back at his side. “Not. Interested.”

“That one was feisty, but I would argue she was very much interested.” Pierre took a sip of his drinked and inhaled sharply at the burn of the straight alcohol. “Jesus,” he coughed before stealing Charles’ cocktail. When his chest was no longer on fire, and the taste was washed away with the fruity mix, he jutted his head in your direction. “So, what’s her deal?”

Charles sighed, knowing Pierre wouldn’t give up until he knew everything about you and your past. It was the past that you were trying to forget as you ordered another drink and slapped away the wandering hands of men foolish enough to think they could take you home.

“To start with, that’s Leo’s ex you were grinding with.”

“From Street Kings?” Pierre’s eyebrows raised when Charles confirmed it with a nod. The Street Kings were well known in Monte-Carlo for dominating the illegal race scene along the Côte d’Azur and Leo was their top driver. The only thing the Street King was known to treasure more than his car was his Queen. “Shit. What happened?”

Charles shrugged. He was as clueless to the information as Pierre though there were certainly rumours whispered in the streets. The Street Kings were like a family and they kept their business close to their chests, all he knew was that you were no longer welcome in their home.

“She’s trouble, that’s all I’ll say.”

The heat of the bodies packed close on the dance floor became suffocating so you stepped out into the balcony. The fresh sea air filled your lungs and the cool breeze tousled your hair, making the moment almost peaceful. That was all ruined when a hand roughly palmed your ass before squeezing it and you placed your glass on the tabletop.

“Remove your hand before I break it.”

“Don’t be like that, baby,” the man said, his hands still on your ass. “Good girls don’t dance like that unless they want to be touched.”

You turned and tilted your head with a flirty smile that had the guy’s ego inflating even more. His hand came to rest on your hips and you caught Pierre’s eyes from across the room. “You're wrong, I’m not a good girl.”

He licked his lips and looked like he had won the lottery. “It’s my lucky night.”

A soft laugh passed your lips as you reached up and tucked a strand of his bleached blond hair behind his ear. His hands slipped lower to the hem on your short dress as he grew bolder and you rose on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Wrong again.”

You hated to be reminded of Leo, but you used a move that had taught you for self defence. You trailed your hand down his arm as if you were admiring his biceps before reaching his wrist. Turning with your whole body, you stepped back and twisted his wrist in one fluid movement. It was over in a second but the shock lasted longer as the man stared at his limp hand before realisation hit him and his lips parted before he screamed at the pain.

Walking away, you gave him one last glance over your shoulder. “I warned you.”

“See,” Charles said with a shake of his head. “Trouble.”

Pierre laughed to himself and watched you cross the room like you hadn’t just completely ruined the man. “Like I said, she was interested.”

“You, my friend, are a sucker for pain.” Charles sighed at the determined look in Pierre’s eyes and clapped him on the back. “Bonne chance.”

You were still nursing a hangover when you rolled up to work five minutes late on Monday morning. The guys in the garage knew to keep their distance the moment they spotted you arrive with dark sunglasses over your red eyes and an extra large coffee in your hand. They had been on the wrong side of your bad moods before and didn’t want to be there again. 

“Charles’ bringing his car in. He asked for you specifically,” Giorgio said after he waited for you to finish your coffee and deemed it safe to approach. “I told him it would void the warranty but he still wants you to service it.”

“I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t trust those Ferrari mechanics to service a scooter, they obviously don’t give two shits about how his car runs, as we have seen.”

“Did you see him at the party? Was he there?” 

You rolled your eyes as it only took 30 seconds before he wanted to hear the gossip. “Of course he was there but, before you ask, I didn’t talk to him.”

“Seriously? What a waste! If you’d’ve taken me…”

“Boo-hoo…You can embarrass yourself fangirling over Pretty Boy when he gets here.” You sent him away with a wave of your hand and grabbed your oil stained work shirt from your locker as the roar of a V8 filled the garage. Leaving the staff room, shirt in hand, you went to meet him and found a dark blue Aston Martin Vantage pulling in behind the black Ferrari 488 Pista. 

The pair of sports cars parked side by side and you rolled your eyes when you saw who was climbing out of the Vantage. Pierre looked good in a casual white linen shirt, the buttons opened once again, and he tucked a pair of Ray Bans into the deep V of the shirt as he walked to the front of his car and leaned back on the hood. The only difference between his look on Saturday and now was the cocky attitude had been replaced with confusion.

“Hello Trouble,” Charles greeted warmly, twirling his car key around his index finger. He leaned in and kissed your cheeks before waving a hand to his friend. “I believe you two met already.”

“Hi Beautiful,” Pierre said with a smile as he managed to recover from his surprise. 

“Playboy,” you nodded before turning your attention to Charles. “The usual, Pretty Boy, or do you have some concerns?”

“You two know each other?” You could hear the accusation in Pierre’s voice and the devil on your shoulder started to whisper in your ear.

You chuckled as you looked at your steel cap boots and kicked the loose stones on the asphalt. “It’s a small city, our paths have been known to cross on the odd occasion.”

“She’s one of the best mechanics around here,” Charles added.

“Ouch! Only one of? Last time you said I was the best you’ve ever had.”

“Is that right, Pretty Boy?” Pierre asked before running his tongue over his teeth and pursing his lips together.

“Working on my cars,” Charles clarified as his cheeks turned pink.

“He keeps it so clean under his hood,” you teased as you licked your lips seductively and gave him a wink that deepened the shade of his blush. “It’s always a pleasure to get up close and personal.”

You laughed as Charles whined your name before sending a pleading look to his friend. “And that’s why everyone calls her Trouble.”

“Trouble by nature, Trouble by name,” you said as you gave him a mocking bow. “So, standard service or…?”

Both men seemed relieved to have the topic return to something safe as Charles answered, “Just the standard service.”

“Perfect, but I hope that’s not your ride home,” you said as you pointed to the Vantage.

“Why not?” Pierre asked as his palm came to rest protectively on the warm hood.

“Did you seriously not hear it?” Your brows pinched together and you scanned their faces to see if they were messing with you. As a mechanic, it would be negligent to let a car leave your garage running anything but perfectly so you sighed and pointed to the driver’s seat. “Start your car, Playboy, and pop the hood.”

Pierre unlocked the hood and you found the latch to release it, lifting it up as he turned the engine over. He left it idling as he joined you at the front and you looked down at your graphic T, not wanting to ruin it. 

“Hold this.” You shoved your work shirt into his hand before pulling your top off. You had been around the garage guys long enough that working in a sports bra didn’t even earn a second glance but Pierre wasn’t one of your colleagues and he couldn’t stop staring. “Eyes up here, Playboy.”

That cocky smile of his finally made an appearance as you took your work shirt back and tossed the graphic T at his face. “What?” he asked innocently.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned over the engine and tipped your head to one side. “What do you hear?”

Pierre looked at Charles who just shrugged. “An engine?”

“Gold star for you,” you murmured as you watched the manifold vibrate. “See that? Yeeaah, it really shouldn’t be doing that.”

Pierre joined you in leaning over the engine and a gold cross necklace swung out from beneath his shirt. “What’s wrong with it?”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you mentally ran through the possibilities in your head. “It’s a misfiring cylinder, but there could be…half a dozen reasons why. Let me get my scanner, unless you have somewhere to be?”

“Nothing I can’t miss,” Pierre smirked as he settled against his car and rolled his sleeves up. “Charles can bring his car back another day, right, Pretty boy?”

“Please don’t call me that,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ll come back tomorrow, Trouble, and leave you two to your date. Don’t expect him to actually help, he just got a manicure.”

Pierre laughed at the good-natured banter and looked at his neatly trimmed nails before winking at you. “I don’t mind getting my fingers dirty.”

There was always a nervousness that settled in when someone watched you work. It didn’t matter that you could take an engine apart and put it back together, the moment an owner started paying attention to your work, your palms would turn clammy. 

That didn’t happen with Pierre. 

After Charles departed you had driven the Aston Martin into one of the empty bays and grabbed your scanner, plugging it into the ECU as Pierre let his curiosity spill forth.

“How did you get into all this?”

“Same way you got into racing, I should think.”

“Your father?”

“He used to own this place,” you pointed to his name on your shirt, the same name on the signage of the shop. “I grew up here. Always thought I would own it one day.”

You tried not to dwell on the thought that had escaped and instead focused on the diagnostic software as it ran its cycle. Clearing the lump in your throat, you checked the readings on your laptop but Pierre had caught the change in your tone.

“What’s stopping you?”

You looked up from where you were crouched beside the front seat reading the data and cocked an eyebrow. “Despite what Pretty Boy says, this isn’t a date, it’s a job. So, unless you have questions about your car, please shut the fuck up.”

He didn’t even appear taken aback by the acerbic words as he leaned against the car with his arms folded comfortably across his chest. “Fine by me, Friday night works out better for me anyway.”

“What are you on about?” You stood up and went to the tools, grabbing a wrench before heading to the open bonnet.

“Our date,” he stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world and followed close behind. “You know, dinner, drinks, personal questions.”

You paused from loosening the bolts that held down the protective covers around the manifold and pointed the wrench his way. “Yeah, you lost me at ‘personal’.”

He smirked and wrapped his hand around the end, giving it a tug and pulling you closer as you refused to ease your grip. You stumbled into his chest and your free hand grabbed his shoulder to steady yourself, smearing black grease over his white shirt. “Then I’ll settle for dinner and drinks.”

You swallowed at the closeness and tore your eyes away from his lips to fall into the trance of his eyes instead. “I’m not interested, Playboy.”

His smirk only grew and his laugh tickled your cheek as he dipped his head to whisper, “If that were true you would have broken my hand.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you whispered back before sighing. “You’re not going to let this go are you?”

“Not a chance, Beautiful.” Pierre brushed his lips over your cheek and your stomach did a little flip. “You better think of something else to call me, because I’m going to show you I’m not a playboy.”

“You might prefer Playboy when you hear the back ups I have,” you snickered. “Should I go alphabetically? A is for asshole, B is for b-”

“Boyfriend. No way, that’s what I was thinking too.” He grinned and it was infectious. “We’re already finishing each other's sentences.”

“You’re a bastard,” you said with a laugh before realising you were still standing chest to chest with him and took a step back. “You have one chance, one date, that’s it.”

He let go of the wrench and clutched his cross necklace to kiss it like his prayer had been answered. “That’s all I need.”

“Now can I please fix your car?” you asked with a huff that didn’t hold any of the annoyance you pretended to have. “You can’t pick me up in a car that’s not firing on all cylinders, I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I thought your reputation was breaking hands,” he teased.

“It’s actually breaking balls, you just caught me on a bad night.”

He winced and cupped himself as you chuckled and turned back to the car. “That was a joke right?”

You didn’t give him an answer as you held your closed fist out to him. “Hold these.”

“What are they?” he asked as he came closer to take them.

“Your nuts.” You unfurled your fist and laughed as he saw what you had removed with the wrench. “If I find out you are a playboy…consider this your warning.”

Click here for part two.

#pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 rpf

[scribbledghost]

Omg I love mas muscled and I'm literally so in love with your fem Ghost ideas! I don't know if you seen (but I'm sure you probably have) those videos where it was just pouring outside with girls in heels and their partner would carry them to the car or over the curb to not ruin their shoes, but I literally can't stop thinking of this scenario with fem Ghost and was hoping you could write it. No worries though if you can't!

So, I haven't seen those videos, but I can picture it so so vividly in my mind and you are correct that Fem Simon 100% would do this. I don't care how much you weigh, she's built like a brick house and can lift just as much. She can (and will) carry you. Also, I know Simon isn't exactly a feminine name, but damned if I can't come up with anything else, so she's still Simon lmao.

It was supposed to be a simple date - just a nice dinner, and maybe getting your groceries for the week if Simon could convince you to let her tag along (the last time she did, she paid for your groceries while you were distracted, leading to some good-natured bickering and the teasing promise that she'd never be allowed to go shopping with you again). Yet, somehow, in the middle of dinner, you'd looked out the restaurant window and had made a remark that it looked rather dark on the horizon.

A half hour later, when you were both heading out the door, the heavens opened and the rain began to pour.

Suddenly, Simon's thankful that she chose the black button-up shirt instead of the white.

"Don't suppose you brought an umbrella?" you ask sheepishly.

"No, can't say I did," she replies.

The rain continues for several more minutes, showing no sign of letting up. Simon's truck is close enough to the door, it's simply a matter of you both getting up the nerve to sprint to it in the downpour.

Puddles begin to appear, and suddenly Simon wishes she would've worn some sort of blazer to put down on it for you to step over so your shoes don't get soaked. Like the men always did in those old-fashioned romance movies her mum used to watch.

Hell, she'd walk outside, lie face-down in the water, and let you tread on her back all the way to the truck if you asked her to. But that's a different matter.

The two of you wait a few more minutes for any sign of the rain letting up, but no sign of luck appears. And as much as Simon loves spending time simply being in your presence, she'd much rather do it in the comfort of your home or hers.

Then, suddenly, as she watches another couple sprint towards a nearby car, she gets an idea. She's quick to clue you in, as she'll need your aid.

"You want to what?" you ask through light laughter.

"Carry you," Simon repeats. "I'll carry you to the truck, you just need to open the door when I get there. Hands'll be full, y'know."

"Why on earth would you want to carry me?"

For a moment, she contemplates telling you the truth - that she likes holding you, likes taking care of you, and likes showing off her strength (purely because she knows you like her showing off) - but she reconsiders.

"Gotta keep your shoes from soaking through," she eventually says. "Y'said they're new, right? Be a shame to get 'em wet."

"Hm?" you say, then look down. "Oh, yeah, I hadn't thought of that... guess chivalry isn't dead after all, huh?"

"Chivalry ain't dead, love," Simon says with a crooked grin, "she's just a butch."

Then, without warning, she scoops you into her arms, one hooking beneath your knees and the other supporting your back. She'll have to tease you later about the little squeal you let out when she lifts you.

She wastes no time sprinting through the chilled rain and towards her truck, both of you laughing along the way. Once you get there, you open the passenger side door just long enough for her to sit you on the seat and retreat towards the driver side.

It was a valiant effort. Nevertheless, you're both soaked.

A moment of silence stretches between you two until Simon turns her head and catches your eye. Suddenly, laughter bubbles to the surface, filling the cab and her heart near to bursting.

You let her kiss you for the first time in that parking lot.

#where is my chivalrous butch lady where is sheeeeee #fem simon #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost scribbles

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Writing prompts! I'm sending them individually to make it easier to answer all or a few or none of them. They all turned out to be LU in Healthcare oops

When Hyrule is on a call and the patient is awake and alert enough to be scared, how does he help?

EMS calls had phases to them.

The first phase, of course, was getting dispatched, and responding to the scene. It was typical for emotions to run high immediately, for the adrenaline to spike, and everyone reacted differently. Hyrule usually ran scenarios through his head, easing his own anxiety by preparing himself based on the dispatch information. It wasn’t much, especially since dispatch could have faulty details, and he was more than happy to wing it… but it kept his mind preoccupied.

Mo’s usual response was to get aggravated. He would judge the dispatch information, would get irritated whenever a driver messed up and did something reckless. The man’s compassion was quiet and immense, but his stress came out in snappish quips directed at situations and nonexistent people.

The third phase began with their arrival. This was usually when they would figure out what they were actually dealing with.

A dispatch for chest pain meant Mo drove and Hyrule led. The secondary indicated a male in his 40s with severe chest pain and difficulty breathing. It couldn’t really get more cut and dry than that, Hyrule supposed. They had to drive to the central train station, which complicated matters. Hyrule had to agree as Mo grumbled about the situation - he hated crowded scenes.

As the pair walked inside with a stretcher loaded with supplies, they were directed to a secluded area, which surprised Hyrule. He was far more accustomed to people bunching up to stare, getting in his way and making his skin crawl. Instead, they were ferried into a small room, and Hyrule’s senses immediately went on alert at the sight of security guards.

He supposed one of the security members was the patient, then.

But no, because it was clear who the patient was, and his lack of security uniform was not the first thing Hyrule noticed. It was his grayish complexion, the sweat beading his forehead, the scrunched up expression of focus and agony fighting for control. It was the way the man was carefully rocking back and forth between leaning back and clutching his chest and leaning forward to open his airway because he couldn’t breathe. It was how silent he was, eyes piercing through the table in front of him as he fought with all his might with how he was feeling.

This man was sick.

Mo sensed it too, and immediately started to guide the stretcher in time with Hyrule as they reached the patient. Mo prepped the monitor to get the man’s vital signs and do an EKG to look at his heart while Hyrule assessed him and spoke to him.

“Hello, sir,” he greeted, eyes looking the man over. “What’s going on?”

“These gentlemen are being too dramatic,” the man wheezed, sharp eyes burning into the security guards. “I’m fine.”

The statement was so ludicrous even Mo stopped what he was doing to throw the patient a look.

“You sure don’t look fine,” Hyrule noted.

“That’s what we said,” one of the guards piped up. “His friend called us over because he nearly collapsed.”

Hyrule glanced around. “Where’s your friend?”

“I told him to get on the damn train,” the patient grumbled. “Which is where I should be.”

“Let’s make sure you’re okay first,” Hyrule advised him. “It won’t do you any good to board that train if you die before you reach your destination.”

Given the man’s attitude, Hyrule expected some kind of scoff or angry response, but instead, the man bit his lip, showing fear. A pang of sympathy went through the paramedic, and he put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Let’s just see what’s going on, okay?”

The man watched him a moment, saying nothing, eyes searching for something, and then he squeezed them shut, chin tilting down as he nodded.

“When did this start?”

The patient hesitated before answering. “It’s been going on for an hour or two. Just got much worse when were climbing the stairs.”

Alarm bells continued to ring in Hyrule’s mind as he listened. Time is heart tissue repeated over and over. He felt his own heart beat faster as the monitor collected information.

HR 118. BP 92/44 with a MAP of 60. RR 28, SpO2 89%, and the EKG…

ST elevation. Leads II and III, with reciprocal depression in V4. Shit.

This man was having a heart attack. He’d been having one, and he was going into shock.

“Sir, it looks like you’re having a heart attack,” Hyrule informed him as he and Mo moved into action, getting him oxygen through a nasal cannula that could also read capnogrpahy, moving bags off the stretcher so they could quickly get him on it. “Have you had one before? What kind of medical history do you have?”

The patient watched him a moment, growing paler, and then he squeezed his eyes closed yet again, trying to calm himself. “I smoke. Nothing else. Doc mentioned high blood pressure during the last exam, but he said cut the cigarettes and the stress. Didn’t need meds yet. I don’t take anything.”

“Any medical allergies?”

“No.”

“Have you taken anything for this pain?”

“Aspirin,” the man answered with a huff. “I started carrying it just in case.”

“Good thing,” Hyrule commented, patting him on the shoulder lightly. “We’re going to take good care of you, okay?”

Mo had the stretcher ready and in front of them, with the monitor behind the back of the cot. Hyrule shoulder the go bag and oxygen tank while assisting the patient to stand, pivot, and sit. The less strain on his struggling heart, the better.

Security helped clear a path for them as they moved quickly. Hyrule already had his phone in hand, telling the ER to call a STEMI alert. Once they were inside the ambulance, Mo helped Hyrule secure everything and then quickly went up front to drive them out of there. Hyrule grabbed defibrillator pads, placing them on the man’s chest.

“Are those necessary?” The man asked, far more out of fear and dread than anything else.

Hyrule tried to find a balance, tried to reassure the poor man as he moved. “They’re just a precaution. Right now I don’t see a big indication for them, but I like to be ready.”

As he moved on to start an IV, he worked on trying to distract the man. His oxygen saturation had improved with the oxygen, but his blood pressure was still low. Too low for nitroglycerin, which was contraindicated in an inferior MI anyway. Hyrule didn’t have many treatment options, and he hated that. He’d tentatively give fluids. The MAP was still survivable, but barely.

“You from Castle Town?” He asked with a small smile as he put the tourniquet on the man’s arm.

“No. Well. I was.” The man answered, watching him work before swearing under his breath and staring at the ceiling. “I’m supposed to be going home. This was my break from work.”

Hyrule struggled a bit to comment on that. He tried, “Well, once the hospital patches you up, you’ll be able to go home in better condition than you would’ve.”

“You mean alive,” the man remarked bitterly, huffing, “God certainly does like to fucking test me. But if he doesn’t kill me, my wife and daughter will.”

Hyrule was about to ask about them, but the patient picked up on his attempt and waved him off. “Please, just do what you need to do.”

Hyrule obliged him, thankful for the silence to focus. He got the 18G IV in the man’s forearm—for being a smoker he had very good veins and toned arms. He at least kept in shape in that regard.

As Hyrule ran out of things to do aside from observe, he grabbed his computer to collect information. He got the man’s name and date of birth, home address, basic medical information. He called the hospital and updated them.

Mo got them to the ED in record time. The pair quickly unloaded the stretcher and went inside, where charge told them to go to one of the major rooms. A group of three or four people was waiting for them, including Warriors and Legend and Twilight and an emergency physician, as well as a cardiologist. Hyrule gave his report quickly as they moved the patient and wished the man luck.

As he exited, he sighed, feeling the tension drain out of his body. They got him there alive. That was a victory. He hoped the hospital could help him.

“Hey Rulie!”

Hyrule turned and smiled as he saw Wild. “Hey! I thought you weren’t released to go back to work until next week?”

“Eh, I passed the last exam with flying colors,” Wild shrugged with a satisfied smirk. “I heal pretty well, you know.”

The crash flashed in his mind again. The blood. Wild’s broken body. Hyrule’s smile grew a little strained. “Please don’t strain yourself.”

“I won’t,” his friend replied sincerely. “I promise.”

Movement caught his eye, and Hyrule looked beyond to see Warriors and Twilight pushing the stretcher with his patient into the hall, likely heading for the cath lab. He was honestly surprised he himself hadn’t been directed to take the patient there directly.

Wild turned as well to look. “You brought him in?”

“Yeah,” Hyrule answered quietly as the man caught sight of him, pained, tired eyes scanning him before stopping at his companion.

The man jolted up, nearly ripping out an IV in the process. Hyrule jumped, startled, and watched Twilight fight the man to lie back down. He stepped forward, eager to help and soothe the man, who had mostly been reasonable for him. Wild stayed frozen in place.

“Abel, it’s okay,” Hyrule assured him. “They’re gonna help you.”

“L—Link—” the man said, arm reaching beyond Hyrule.

How did he know his…?

He wasn’t talking to Hyrule, was he?

Hyrule turned hesitantly, and saw that Wild was nearly paler than the patient. His eyes were glazed over in that familiar look, that look that the medic knew now to recognize.

Hyrule quickly went to his friend while Warriors and Twilight both held down the patient, who was hurried out of the ED while breathlessly saying all their names over and over and over, his voice growing steadily weaker.

#you ask skye answers #lovely bluevaractyl #lu in healthcare #lu hyrule #do I have a tag for Mo?? #lu mo #🤷🏻‍♀️👍🏻 #lu wild #abel #writing #guess who’s making a guest appearance?? :D :D :D #Skye time travels through the queue

[stevie-petey]

Hi! I know it's pretty late to be asking this but I got a random blurb idea at three in the morning so I thought I'd send it in before I forgot it. It's for season one, episode 5/6.

After Steve finds Jonathan and Nancy in her bed and tells bug she deserves better he drives off with Tommy and Carol. Basically his POV that whole car ride. He's grieving, in disbelief and heartbreak. He's angry and sad, not only for himself but for bug. Tommy and Carol are only riling him up at this point. Remember how Tommy or Carol said something like " wow Steve you're right she really is pathetic to still stay with him" maybe we see the convo where that came from. I feel like he was excited to be around who he thought were Nancy's friends outside of barb, and it all came crashing down.

Again this is really random and super late but I was just thinking about season one Steve and this scenario popped into my head. For being such a little shit Steve really is handsome.

i loooove this idea omg yes ! n never apologize for sending blurbs i love doin em

enjoy <3

"did henderson really defend that creep?" carol practically throws herself over the drivers seat in disbelief of what steve has just said.

"she did." steve tightens his hands around the steering wheel. his mind is reeling. hes hurt, hes so fucking hurt, and hes angry. for you, for what nancy has done to him, for what jonathan has done to you. for years youve been his little pet, always doting on the boy, and he still has the fucking nerve to hurt you like this. "shes pathetic."

the words burn steves tongue. he regrets them immediately.

tommy snorts. "i mean, yeah. shes hot, but at least have some self respect, ya know?"

the boys words only cause steve to tighten his grip on the steering wheel harder. youre not pathetic; youre selfless. youre so fucking selfless and always see the good in people. it infuriates steve. youre everything and more, and hes seen people abuse this rare kindness for years. make fun of you for it, mock you as if the kindness you bring isnt a breath of fresh air for everyone.

he hears a yelp next to him and steve knows that carol has slapped tommy for calling another girl hot in front of her.

"i just dont get it," steve sighs out. theres so much he wants to ask, to say and plead and demand. he cant get the betrayal in your eyes out of his head. youd looked devasted when hed told you what he saw at nancys. how jonathan had been wrapped around her.

and yet even as the hurt crossed upon your face, you still managed to swallow down the hurt and see the good in people.

in the people who didnt fucking deserve it.

"fuck if i know, man." tommy rubs at his arm and glares at carol.

she simply rolls her eyes at him and goes back to picking at her nails. "why do we assume she even knows how to do anything other than put on that angelic act bullshit?"

"what, like she doesnt know how to be mean?" tommy asks, furrowing his brows.

steve stares straight ahead. "all shes ever been is kind."

"exactly," carol throws herself against the drivers seat again. "whos to say its real? not some creepy act? better yet: how do we know shes not, like, fucked up in the head?"

youre not. steve has seen your intelligence. youre the top of your class and hes had to shamefully ask you for help with english homework.

tommy frowns again. "wait, i thought she was smart."

"god, youre dumb." carol shakes her head. "what i mean is, what if she physically incapable of being mean. like, some chemical imbalance in her brain."

"could explain her freakish devotion to byers." tommy says.

steves grip tightens once more hearing the boys name. jonathan byers. resident creep who somehow has captured the heart of hawkins sweetheart. the same boy who has now cheated on her with steves girlfriend.

he will never understand this.

nancy has hurt him, shes abandoned him like everyone else has, and he knows that somehow its his fault.

but you? you dont deserve any of this.

what carol has said makes sense. maybe you really dont know how to be mean. if youre physically incapable of it, then steve decides that he has to do something about it.

if you need to be mean, then he'll be mean for you.

#ask #anon #m speaks #come home blurb #m's writing #set in season 1 #steve bless u #ur so dumb #very heavily “if u need to be mean be mean to me” coded btw

[callmewrinkles3]

Come Back, Be Here - DR3 x Fem!OC

Masterlist

Summary: One race until the end of the season, and one race until Dan gets to go home for New Years and six weeks of family time. But he and Emmy are facing their longest separation since 2018, and neither of them are facing the truth of what it means.

Words: 7.2k

Warnings: Abu Dhabi 2021, angst (it’s this series what do you expect), explicit smut (18+ only pls!), mentions of breaking laws in Middle Eastern countries.

AN: We had to share something for the DannyRic GP, and why not the moment that started the downward spiral for these two? We are aware that they probably wouldn’t get in trouble for being physically affectionate in public, but Em sticks to the rules and is a worst case scenario person so here we are. We hope you enjoy! Alex and Cíara xx

December, 2021

This leg of the race calendar was punishing. It didn’t give you a moment to breathe, three double headers in a row. And hardest of all for Dan, the last three races were in the Middle East.

He’d learned more about the human rights side of things, but he’d never consider himself well educated on it. He’d talked to other drivers, looked online, all of that. But on a purely selfish level Middle Eastern races meant that he and Em were back to their old pattern of separate hotel rooms, one of them slipping out of the others at the crack of dawn so they weren’t caught sharing. It was stupid and illogical and he missed the feeling of getting to wake up slowly with her half sprawled across him, of soft kisses and slow sex to get ready for the day.

Instead it was mumbled goodbyes and kisses on her forehead. Qatar wasn’t too bad, they finished the race and got to head back to Europe. He spent more time on the sim, trying to get to grips with how the car reacted and bring back some of the magic from Monza. And then he’d go home and open up the door of that little flat to see Em on the couch still working away, or she’d arrive in just after him from Blake’s with a smile and a “I was asked to remind you the walls are thin, please don’t make me scream tonight again.” She always blushed and he grinned, kissing it away and wrapping her in a hug to put aside the mixed feelings he had about McLaren. 

But they were in Saudi Arabia and he fucking hated it here. He hated that for the next two months he couldn’t hold Em’s hand. He couldn’t wake up beside her in bed. That he’d get on the plane to Perth and she’d be left behind because she was going back to London and he didn’t want to do it.

Originally how late the calendar ran because of covid was perfect. They would arrive into Perth just as the major restrictions would be lifted, the hotel was booked for two weeks, they’d be home just after Christmas. It would work. And then the rules changed and it was citizens and spouses of citizens only and there was no way around it. They were in Austin when they got the news, cancelling the flight for Em with tears.

It was just after the race in Saudi, sitting in his driver room and wanting to head back to the hotel when Michael walked in. Everything was ready and he stood, but one look from Michael made him sit and stay quiet.

“Are you gonna ask Em to marry you so she can come home with us?”

He thought he was about to laugh at the question, but Michael’s face was sincere. 

“Mate, no. God I wish I could. But no. I have a plan, and her thinking that I’m only asking her so she can come is not in it. I wouldn’t do that to her.”

“You have a plan? Shouldn’t you at least go on a couple of dates? Have dinner out like a couple? Work out if it’s what’s gonna happen?”

He could see the surprise on his best mate’s face, watching as Dan took a deep breath and stretched out his back. He’d had the plan since the four of them were in lockdown together on the farm, when Em got off the wooden lounger she was sharing with him to get four more beers. He sat there, took the last gulp out of his bottle, and said “I’m going to marry her some day. Emmy’s the one. She’s it.”

Emmy had come back and curled on his chest again before they could say anything else, sitting there in the cooling night air while he ran his hand up and down her arm. It was perfect and he knew that was it, she was the one. The ring was sitting in his bag waiting for the right moment.

“Mate I know it will. We live together. We do dates when we have our Italy trips, and she still hasn’t forgotten I owe her for Lake Como last year because I won Monza instead. We don’t need dates.”

“Just take her on one. Mate, seriously, take her out. Do it properly.” The insistence was weird, it was never how Mike usually was. In fairness he and Blake usually stayed out of whatever he and Emmy were doing, unless it interrupted Blake’s sleep and he got an angry text. They’d gotten a lot better at not doing that though.

“Did she tell you something? Why are you making a big deal about this? I know what I’m doing.”

“She hasn’t said anything, but just…I see the way the two of you look at each other. You’re not gonna see her for six weeks, and I’m pretty sure the last time the two of you went that long without seeing each other was that gap between her coming to Monaco and whatever the race she went to after in 2018.  Take your girl on a date and make sure she’s your girl.”

“I fucking can’t!” He was louder than he meant to be, opening and closing his hand and standing up. The fucking “cultural norms” and rules that meant they couldn’t do it. If they were just tourists then yeah, maybe. But there’d be cameras and people would see and he wouldn’t put it past a government to make an example of them.

“Why not? It’s easy. “Hey Em I’m in love with you and have been probably since I brought you to Perth for the first time, lets go for dinner before we spend six weeks apart.” That’s all you have to say. She’ll say yes.”

“Because we’re in the Middle fucking East. I’m not even supposed to get in a car with her, let alone be in public with her alone. And it’s pretty public that we’re not married so we can’t risk it. And don’t remind me that it’s gonna be fifty one days without her. That’s how long it’ll be till I see her once we get on that plane.”

“Dan…” But he was on a roll, finally able to explain everything that had been so painful to think about.

“We break so many rules in so many countries just to be able to sit at each others sides. I can get in trouble for sitting by her side in the car, holding her hand. It’s my thing every single day to be with her in the car. It’s our thing to go on ride to get to be alone for a minute before the rest of the world gets me. I can’t even stay in the same room as her if there isn’t someone there. I’m not supposed to go to bed hugging the girl of my dreams. Do you know the risk that I take every single time I sneak out of her room? The danger she’s in? There’s literal fucking morality police here. And every night we decide fuck it, it’s worth it and I just hug her tighter because it could turn into a living nightmare for her. So please. Don’t ask me “why not” like it’s some simple question because it’s not. There’s nothing I want more than that.”

It was quiet as Dan took a breath, the reminders of last year and the way they worried as he got back into the car after watching Romain escape the flames hit him again.

“Remember Bahrain last year? The way I hid in my drivers room with her?” Michael nodded. “That could have gotten us arrested for just being alone together and all that happened was she held onto me and stopped me from wanting to scream. The fact that we’re here so we have to do this? We have to pretend that it’s ok not to even get to hug each other? I’d kill for a podium, or even imagine a win, but then she couldn’t hug me. It’s backwards and it’s fucked and yeah I’m rich and white so we’d probably be fine but it’s not worth the risk. We do it anyway. Because we have to.”

“Mate. I’m sorry.”

“Just please. I have a plan. When we move into the new place I’m gonna talk to her about admitting everything. And next time she’s able to come to the farm I’m gonna propose. I’ve had the ring for a year. A little longer isn’t going to hurt.”

“As long as you know what you’re doing. I trust you, but don’t hurt her. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t. We’ll be good. She knows me better than I know myself.”

They nodded at each other and left the room, Blake and Em standing outside the hospitality with a few feet between them. Instead the four walked out to a car available for them to go back to the hotel. Ten days till the flight to Perth. He had to make the most of them.

—

Once they arrived in Abu Dhabi Em was counting down. They got in on Monday ahead of most of the rest of McLaren, checking into the hotel and getting their rooms. She had the emails and went to the counter, getting the keys and pointing out the boys across the lobby and the ridiculous amount of luggage they all travelled with. Travelling light was not a thing Formula One did.

The four envelopes were slid over, Em taking them and checking the keys. The little printed labels with their names were the same as in nearly any other Hilton, but seeing Dan’s on his own and hers on her own made her so frustrated.

She knew she’d been putting off thinking about the flight home after the race. Until they got to the airport she could pretend they were getting on the same plane, holding hands over the little divider like they did so often, curling up in bed and look at new apartments. They had months left on their self imposed timeline of the summer break, her lease was month to month, but they wanted this. A place that was theirs felt right for once.

“You ok?” Dan asked when Blake and Michael had gone up to their rooms. They were sitting on opposite sides of a coffee table, each fiddling with the envelope in their hands. The evening was a free one before the chaos of the final race of the season began. Both titles coming down to one race? It wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Yeah. Just…yeah.”

“It sucks.”

“It really sucks.” She smiled wistfully, trying to get herself together. They still had time. They weren’t leaving till Tuesday night, Lando agreeing to do the final day of tyre testing so Dan could make it home. The offer was there for Em to fly home early, as if that would happen. She hadn’t let them book her on an earlier flight to London. It wasn’t worth having a little less time with her boys.

“I just hate being apart. I hate not getting to share a room with you. Not even getting to give you a hug in public. I know it’s stupid, but this week?”

“It’s not forever.” Dan sounded different and she looked up at him, watching him search for his words. “After we move, y’know? Next year. We find the apartment and we move in and then we can figure out the rest.”

“That sounds really good.”

Their rooms were at least on the same floor, and she handed Dan the spare card for her room, watching him grin as she did. She went in and did her usual unpacking routine - toiletries in the bathroom, her planned clothes for the circuit hanging up neatly, checking the locks worked and the mirrors were real after one too many TikTok’s that terrified her. Her final step was putting her pillow on the bed, the habit Michael had made her pick up after one too many complaints about her awful sleeping habits. It didn’t particularly help, but she did it anyway.

They’d gotten in late, but there was only a one hour time difference. The room service menu looked good, a lamb kofta and lemon tart for dinner. The food arrived not long after she ordered and she settled at the desk to eat.

Three minutes later there was a knock at the door and it opened, Dan coming in with his own plate. A kiss to her head before he sat down with his steak, Em watching as he cut in and smiled at how it was cut.

“You’re a simple boy, eh Dimples?” She asked, enjoying how the first nickname she gave him that drunken night had stuck.

“I’ve got you and a steak, what else could I possibly want Emmy?”

“You know you don’t need to charm me, right?” He held out a forkful of peppers for her, in return she gave him some fries. 

“But if I want to?”

“Then by all means, but don’t expect magic. I didn’t bring anything fancy considering what customs here is like.” The last time she’d brought anything involving what she considered her nice underwear was in 2019 when her luggage had been searched. She wasn’t doing that again.

They ate in mostly silence, Dan leaving only to put his room service cart outside his door and hang the do not disturb sign on it. Once he was back they got ready for bed, another episode of Criminal Minds on TV as they cuddled and got comfy. Em couldn’t tell you what happened, instead lulled to sleep by Dan’s fingers in her hair and a kiss against her forehead every few minutes.

The next few days passed, and she could see the seething rivalry between Red Bull and Mercedes was going to spill over. Thing were tense in the paddock, she’d never felt an atmosphere like it. Her first two years were a party mode, people glad a season was over, relaxing and looking forward to the break. Last year was covid and weird. But this felt strange.

She was sitting having coffee with Britta on Thursday morning before media really kicked off and asked her the magic question.

“Has a final race been like this before? It feels…weird.” The other woman laughed, checking her watch and taking a sip before answering.

“2016. 2012 a little, but we won so I kind of forget it. Things didn’t feel as poisonous then. Everyone knew unless Sebastian didn’t finish he’d probably win, so that was the aim. But 2016 was rough, and we weren’t near Mercedes then. It’s going to be interesting.”

“Definitely.” She wanted to see Dan at the top of the standings, wanted to see him race and race well. But this felt weird. She’d known Max just out of his teens, focused and sure and cocky. Lewis had become a friend. It was weird calling him that, but it was how things were.

Seeing Dan finish out of the points wasn’t great, but it was over and the season was done. The safety car finish that wasn’t a safety car finish, the way it all ended up left a weird taste in her mouth. Em had no loyalty to any team despite the friendships she’d made with people across both of them. Splitting the trophies felt just. But it was still strange. That night they all went to a party held by someone, drinking and dancing. In the rented out room it felt safe to be near Dan, but as soon as they were leaving for the hotel it was that gap between them. Into the provided car and through the lobby and up to her room, Dan stepping in behind her and pinning her against the wall. The sex was fierce and frantic and desperate, both of them putting everything they had into it. Dan rubbing against her, filthy words falling out of his mouth about how she looked, how she felt, how good she was as she begged him for more and more until they were seeing stars and clutched together.

Monday was promo. Em sat at the side of the garage with her iPad, already slotting in dates for the following season. Her earplugs were carefully in her ears as she watched the filming happen, content for the off season between Lando and Dan. It was exhausting, but the season was over. So many flights and hotels and this and that and the other. They’d done the maths and realised they spent more time in hotels than their bedroom during the season. She wanted to go home.

But she didn’t. She didn’t want to be in the cold London apartment alone. She didn’t want to sit on their couch and hit her leg off the coffee table Dan hated. She didn’t want to put his helmet on the shelf alone. They had a ceremony for it, Dan’s arms around her as she slid it into its new home. But their time together was ticking away shorter and shorter and she didn’t want to think about it. So she pulled up the latest apartment listings he’d sent to see if any of them suited. And then frowned when she realised he was looking in his rental bracket, not hers.

“Penny for them?” Blake asked, slipping into the chair across from her. She made herself smile up, hitting the lock button on the iPad and closing the case.

“Not a lot. Looking at apartments, wondering what the hell Danny is thinking of with some of them. I told him my budget.”

“And you know Dan. He wants the perfect place. You two doing ok?”

“There’s no us two, Blake.” Her words were short but she’d had enough of everyone saying they were together.

“Tamothy you’re either being wilfully or deliberately blind. He worships the ground you walk on. You’re moving in together. I live beside you, I hear too much.”

“We’re moving into a two bedroom.” She took a breath before continuing, letting that sink in. “Dan and I are…we are complicated and messy but he is my best friend. He knows me better than anybody else does. And whatever is going on with us is between us. You know I love you, you know you’re my brother, but you have to let this be between us. Ok?” 

She took a sip of the iced tea beside her, stretching out her shoulders and arms the way Michael had instructed her to every half hour she was typing away. Blake looked like he was going to say something but Dan arrived over, grinning and wearing yet another OKX shirt.

“Did you take a look at the listings? I really like the SE1 one, it’s got balcony views over the Thames. If you can view when you’re back we can do the deposit?” He took her bottle and half emptied it, handing it back to Em who took another sip before looking up at him.

“I saw, except it’s five times the budget we said. Dan, seriously.”

“Emmy we can afford it. If we decide to do a budget by income like we should it’s me covering most of the expenses. Have a look at it?” He tried widening his eyes but she was immune from them. Mostly.

“No. We’re looking in the price range you and I set. Then if we can’t find anything that suits we’ll go higher. Understood?” He nodded. “This shoot is only supposed to be another twenty minutes, how’s it going?”

“My part’s nearly done. What’s next?”

“You get a full thirty minutes for lunch if you’re on time. Then it’s a couple of Android ads. I got them to give Blake a Pixel phone and tablet so you can look like you use them all the time instead of being the Apple geek we know you are. Once that’s done it’s a Gulf Oil pre-tape, a couple of holiday messages to record - Christmas, New Years, Lunar New Year because that’s before you’re back from Australia - and then you’re mostly done for the day. Apart from the Pirelli test meeting at five. That’s just going over the tires for tomorrow, the aim, introduce you to how the mule cars will work. That kind of thing.”

“You are my calendar countess, thank you Emmy! Going back to work now, are you both getting lunch then?”

“I’ll drag her from her desk!” Dan grinned at Blake’s response before jogging back. Once he was gone Blake stared at Em with wide eyes. “You drank from your bottle.”

“And?” She waved her hand at the papaya insulated metal bottle she carried with her everywhere. Water usually, but in hotter places it was iced tea with ice cubes carefully prodded through the lid. Everyone regularly in the garages had one.

“You never do that. I saw you nearly slap Michaels hand away for doing it. But you let Dan who was sweaty from being under huge lights all morning drink out of it and you drank out of it straight away.”

“So? It’s not a big deal.” It wasn’t. She was sanitary, that was all. Dan’s tongue was in her mouth most days, it wasn’t a big deal to share a water bottle. She forced Blake’s words out of her mouth as she started planning the 2022 Ric3 release schedule, only interrupted by going for lunch before spending the rest of her day on it. That night she didn’t do her usual day before checkout routine, instead curling up in bed with Dan for a lazy make out session before they went to sleep.

The next morning Em stopped packing and looked up at Daniel, watching him pace around the hotel room that he hadn’t left that morning, needing the extra time with her. He was more anxious than usual before getting in the car.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” She pulled his chin down so he stared at her before getting on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. “You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“I just wish you were going to be in Perth with us. The kids miss you and want to see you, Mum and Dad keep bugging me that I have to be able to do something to get you in. We could do Melbourne or Sydney and spend it—“

“And you’d spend it away from your family when the entire reason you’re going back to Oz and spending fifteen days in a very small hotel room with Mikey is to see them. It sucks. It completely sucks that we’re going to be apart for two months. It sucks that we’re not spending Christmas together when we’ve spent almost every day of the last two years together. But you need to see them.” She couldn’t help the tears falling at her words, the realisation that she had to spend so much time away from her boys hitting her. They’d been her entire life, but they needed to see the other people who loved them even though she couldn’t go. She and Dan had poured over the regulations but had come to the same conclusion. She wasn’t Australian, she wasn’t married to an Australian, so she couldn’t enter Western Australia. None of Dan’s connections could get the restrictions lifted, even though she’d asked him not to try. He still had because of course he had.

“Emmy, don’t cry.” He sat on the bed and pulled her close, cradling her the same way they’d curl up on a jet together. Mike would be at the door any minute telling him to get his ass downstairs, testing was starting soon, but he didn’t care. She came first.

“I’m sorry. I just…ugh. I want to be there. I miss everyone. I want my big hug from everyone and the reminder to eat up because we don’t settle down in one place enough. I want to spend a day cooking with Grace and Michelle and getting shown the recipes she doesn’t trust you with. It’s just not fucking fair.” Dan’s hand ran through her hair, pushing kisses to her forehead as he soothed her. Seven fucking weeks. Fifty one days. It was the longest they’d spent apart since she’d gone to Barcelona in 2018.

“None of this is fair. I’ll come back to London, we can spend Christmas in the flat and start looking for our new place. I don’t want you alone for it or having to get the train to Liverpool.”

“You’re going to Perth. You already paid the stupid amount of money for hotel quarantine, we both know you don’t have a choice. I’ll be fine.”

She nearly convinced herself as she got off his lap the moment before Mike came into their room, wiping her eyes and picking up her tablet before joining them in the car. Blake had told her to take the day off, but there was already dates for sponsor videos and the next car launch, and some stupid OKX campaign involving Dan as a magician that she thought was ridiculous but she’d seen how much money they were personally paying him so it had to happen. While Dan drove laps around Yas Marina to put the season that had the highest highs and the lowest lows behind them she worked, tapping away at the keyboard with more force than she intended.

“What did the poor machine do to you?” She turned at the American accent, Zak Brown standing behind her looking her up and down. Emmy shook her head and put her press smile on.

“Decided to push more things onto a schedule than there’s hours in the day. What can I do for you, Mr Brown?” The older man’s expression was smarmy and she dreaded what he was about to say.

“We need Daniel to drive tom—“

“No.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“You want Daniel to drive tomorrow morning instead of doing the full run today. That’s not going to work. He’s booked on a flight to Perth at three in the morning and is booked into his hotel quarantine for when he arrives in Australia. This is non negotiable.” She wasn’t afraid to stand up to Brown anymore, not after the rumour Carmen had slipped her he’d spread.

“Lando can’t drive in the morning, he’s booked on a flight then.”

“I don’t care.” She stared at him, taking a breath before speaking. “Lando’s family is in England and he was able to spend most of 2020 and basically all of 2021 with them. They were able to be at races with him. Dan hasn’t seen his family since April last year apart from FaceTime, and thanks to the season running so late this year he’s already missing Christmas and Boxing Day with them. He’s not delaying seeing them by extra time. Plus, there’s flights to London nearly every hour, Lando can get any one of them. Dan’s flight isn’t changing. Don’t ask again.”

“And if I ask him to?” She hadn’t realised the car had pulled back into the garage, Dan making a beeline for his manager’s assistant and the CEO speaking in harsh whispers at the back of the garage.

“If you ask me to what?” He swallowed part of the protein smoothie Mike had handed him while waiting for Zak to speak.

“I was telling your little assistant here that Lando needs to go back to London tonight to see family, so I need you to do tomorrow morning’s testing session. She told me you wouldn’t do it, but I know you will, right?” Emmy looked at Dan, dreading his response

“I can’t. I’ve organised hotel quarantine with the WA government, I’ve paid for it. If I’m not on that flight then I miss my quarantine spot and there’s no guarantee I’ll get another one. Lando told me yesterday afternoon he was fine about it, he had plans to spend Thursday golfing in Dubai before flying home. If Emmy says something about my schedule then that’s my schedule, she’s the one who keeps all that.”

They were a united front, and she could feel the heat radiating from his sweaty race suit just behind her. Instead of leaning back like she wanted she stayed still to watch Brown take in Dan’s words.

“Ok. We’ll make it work. Dan, Emmy.” He turned to walk away, but Emmy stopped him.

“Mr Brown?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Emma, if you don’t mind. Only certain people call me Emmy, I’d like to keep it that way.”

They watched him walk out of the garage towards hospitality and it took Dan less than five seconds to grab her hand and pull her back to his drivers room.

“Dan?” She asked once he’d closed the door, pushing her against it.

“That was fucking hot. Making sure I get to go? Standing up to him? Not letting him call you the name I gave you? Hot as hell.”

His lips dropped to her neck, tracing the length of the silver chain she always wore until he reached the number three on it. It was her birthday present from 2018, given to her during the summer break. Just weeks after they’d decided to be friends who slept together. 

She hated the word friends. 

“You have to eat. And drive. We can’t right now.”

“At the hotel? I want to say goodbye to you properly. Two months is too long.”

“I know, Babe. I know.”

She pressed open mouthed kisses to his jaw before pushing him slightly, pulling her ipad to her as she perched on the little desk before Mike arrived back. They were the picture of professionalism, apart from Dan’s pinkie running up and down her thigh.

When he was back in the car she had her last meeting with Michael, the two of them running through the final plans for the online platform over the winter, the pre recorded information ready to go.

“You doing ok?” Michael asked and she nodded, trying to smile. “Really?”

“I will be. It’s just gonna be weird spending time without the three of you. Dan and I haven’t been apart since we were all in lockdown.”

“Any news about you and Dan?”

“Gossiping, much?!” She tried laughing, not letting her worries show. “He’s my guy, he’s my best friend. Whatever the media or anyone says doesn’t matter. Danny knows more about me than anyone else.”

“You know we’re on your side.”

There was nothing else she could say to that. Fortunately Dan appeared out of the car, changed but unshowered.

“Winter break, here we come! I’m thinking hotel to nap, and then we can get food before we change and head to the airport? Book the restaurant for eight thirty?” Dan’s curls were wild and he still had the balaclava marks on his cheeks that Em loved to kiss off his face. Instead she stood up, adjusting the bright orange shirt as she picked up the last few things she had.

“Yeah, works for us. Make sure we’re all packed up so we can just grab them and go straight to the airport. Who’s driving? Emmy?”

“Nah, not tonight. I’m too tired, and considering the way things are around here a woman driving a car full of men?” She smiled, Blake and Mike realising the excuse she wasn’t saying.

“I’ll drive. Be fine. Let’s head back.” Blake shepherded them out, everyone saying goodbye to the team they’d worked with for the year. Em checked her watch, eleven hours until she’d have said goodbye to her boys for two months, and she wasn’t ready. 

The drive back to the Hilton was quick. Mike took the passenger seat without asking leaving her and Dan holding hands in the back. When they were in the garage they waved goodbye, everyone going to their room and agreeing to meet later for dinner. Once the door to their room was closed Dan pulled her close, his hands half lifting her as her legs wrapped around his waist when she jumped.

“Dan,” Em groaned, holding onto his shoulders.

“Ive got you baby girl, I’ve got you. I promise I’ve got you.” His lips moved further down her neck as he pulled the team shirt off her body to reveal a new pink bra. “For me?”

“Wanted to look pretty for you, give you something to remember.”

“You say that like I could ever forget you.” 

She was lost in the sensations, both of them shuffling clothing off in a desperate attempt to be closer. Dan’s fingers slid through the matching underwear, long digits brushing through the wet folds.

“Dan I need more. Please?” Her hips bucked up and he laid her on one of the beds in the room, hovering over her.

“I’ve got you, Emmy. I’ve always got you.” Dan’s brown eyes were clear, the depths of emotion starting. She gasped as he entered her fully, filling her to the hilt in that way she knew so, so well. Every single time they slept together it felt right, Dan stretching her perfectly. She rolled her hips and smirked at the groan he let out, taking the hint to move.

Never ask Emmy what he did in those moments, the way he moved and brought her to her first orgasm, and then her second. They were chasing their highs together, lips clashing and his thumb rubbing circles around her clit just above where she was so gloriously full.

“Let me feel you, Emmy. So perfect right like that, let me feel how good you feel.”

“Danny…Danny please babe, just there please.” She couldn’t tell who came first, the two of them hitting their climax at nearly the same time. 

The last thing she wanted was for him to pull out and move, to remind her that their time together was getting shorter and shorter and they’d have to say goodbye soon. Dan seemed the same way, pushing kisses to her chest before being forced to move. Getting cleaned up after sex was easy for them now, but instead he lifted her up and carried her into the bathroom, ignoring Emmy’s complaints.

“Dan! Put me down! PUT ME DOWN!! What are you doing?!” She called, trying to wriggle out of his tight grip.

“Bath. If we don’t get one for a while I want a proper one. We don’t have wine, but we can relax for a little while. Please?” She could never say no to his big brown eyes, reaching up to kiss his cheek.

“Sounds perfect.”

The tub in the suite was large enough for both of them, Em leaning back into his arms in the hot water. Every so often she felt Dan push a kiss to her head, smiling at the movement. 

“Are you going home for Christmas?” He asked and she fought but failed to stop her body going stiff. “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s fine. London’s as much home as anywhere else, either there or Monaco or Perth. But no, I’m staying away from Liverpool. I didn’t even get a text asking what I was doing for it this year.” The realisation that she hadn’t gotten anything after her happy birthday text in August hurt a little, but she just relaxed into Dan again.

“I’m sorry. It’s not fair.”

“None of it is, but it’ll be fine. I’ll curl up, take care of Blake’s plants, get your schedule for the start of next year done. Who knows, I might use some of the ridiculous salary you pay me and take a holiday. Chloe said she and Scotty are spending New Years in Switzerland. She doesn’t want me to be lonely.”

“They’re good friends. You should go. Don’t spend it all alone in the flat without me. I might look up some places for us? I’ll find some that are in your price range, I promise.” She leaned back against him to relax before she replied.

“That’s the plan Roomie.” The moving in talk gutted her every time he brought it up. As friends. Friends who slept together and were intimate together and who loved each other so much it hurt to be separated.

“I’ll see what I can find. Somewhere with lots of light and a balcony I think.”

“Sounds perfect.”

She could have fallen asleep there but the alarm she’d set went off, making her stand up as Dan ran his fingers down her legs.

“Emmy…”

“No, Danny. We need to get ready. Once we leave here you know what the rules are.” The stupid unmarried couple UAE rules. The reason she insisted she stood between Blake and Mike for most of the time they were outside, because if she and Danny were beside each other holding hands was the least they usually did.

“You know, right?” His voice was plaintive, Em dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

“I know. I know you do but y’know, right?”

A squeeze of her hand was the only response.

Dinner was fun, the four of them at the table, laughing and joking. The time of year and what was about to happen was strictly off limits for discussion, as was the safety car that had fucked up Dan’s chance of points in the last race. Instead they talked about watching other teams do tyre testing, Kimi’s retirement party that the guest of honour had left after twenty minutes, the way teams had shaped up for the next season. 

“Yeah I’m surprised Haas kept Mazepin, but I guess money talks.” Blake gestured with his fork as he spoke, Em rolling her eyes.

“Just keep him away from me next year, ok? I…yeah. The rumours are bad enough. He creeps me out.”

“Did he do anything?” Dan put his cutlery down and looked at her, Em shaking her head immediately.

“He didn’t get the chance. But he knows exactly where to go to find certain people, he knows what to do. Nothing I can report and say is inappropriate, but enough that I can tell he knows he’s crossing the line. It fucking sucks. And I can’t prove it but he was spreading the worst of the rumours over the summer.” She twirled spaghetti around her fork, eating it before she could say anything else. Spending time with Mick trying to badly teach her German generally meant Mazepin was around and she hated that.

“If anything happens.” An eyebrow raise told her the rest.

“I know what to do.” She took the chance to run her foot along his calf, making sure he could feel how calm she was. She wasn’t ruining the last part of her day with her boys with crap.

The drive to the airport was fine. Two cars had been ordered because of the law that she wasn’t supposed to be in a car with any of the boys, but instead of her slipping into one of the SUVs alone Dan got in opposite her. The driver was discrete and kept quiet, Em and Dan holding hands for the entire drive to Dubai. The hour passed too quickly, and they arrived ready to go in the dark night.

Check in and security was quick, Em picking up a few things in the duty free shopping. Once they were ready the four of them went to the Emirates lounge, settling into a corner. Mike and Blake took the outer seats so she and Dan could be beside each other, a glass of champagne for everyone on the low table between them.

She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing now, the clock past midnight and the realisation she was saying goodbye to them. Her fingers were linked with Dan’s and they were silent, three occasional squeezes the only form of communication between them. She could tell when Blake and Mike noticed what was happening, their nudges between each other. Em held her breath, but then Dan realised what was happening and pulled her in.

“We can’t,” Em gasped out, worried about what would happen if anyone saw.

“I don’t care. Emmy, you need some comfort. This isn’t…fuck. Fuck it all. I’m done. I’m going up and changing my flight, I’m going to London. How the hell am I supposed to leave you like this? I don’t want you to be alone.”

“You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

“Danny, you can’t.” She looked up at him and made him stare at her, fixing his gaze with her own. “You haven’t seen your family in more than eighteen months. You’ve got your hotel quarantine ready to go. They’re holding Christmas dinner until you’re out of quarantine and can see them all. You have to go.”

“I don’t want you to be alone.” He squeezed her hand three times but she could see his resolve breaking. 

“I’ll be ok. We’ll FaceTime every couple of days. But look here.” She lit her phone screen, showing him the photo of her, Isaac, and Isabella from Christmas 2019 when the kids were so much smaller and a pandemic was barely a thought. “Those kids are so excited to see their uncle Dan again. You have a full suitcase of presents waiting to be loaded. Grace is dying to hug her boy and she and Joe just want to congratulate you for Monza. You have to go.”

When Dan pulled her into a hug she knew she’d won, and the two of them stayed curled up in a chair like that together. Mike and Blake moved chairs so nobody could see them as a just in case, but Dan held her and Em breathed in his scent deeply. Fifty one days. She could do this. 

“Passengers for Emirates flight EK 420 to Perth, First Class is boarding shortly. Please proceed to the boarding gate for transport to your plane.”

She went to stand at the announcement but Dan didn’t let her go, squeezing her tight. 

“Another minute. Please?”

“Ok.”

They got another three before Blake shook Dan’s shoulder to get them to move. 

“Mate, we have to go. C’mon.”

Em forced an all too fake smile on her face as she hugged her boys, Michael holding her close for a moment. 

“Look after yourself,” she murmured, watching as he nodded seriously. 

“And I’ll look after him for you, Wiggle. I’ll email you those new video ideas and we can see what works?”

“Perfect.”

Hugging Blake was the same, arms wrapped around her as he pushed a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Wish you were coming back with us. If we could…”

“It’s not your fault. Blame Australia. Gonna miss you Blakey.”

“Miss you too Ems.”

Dan was the final one to grab her and she didn’t want to let go. He pushed the quickest kiss to her lips as he hugged her, Em wanting to deepen it but knowing she couldn’t. 

“I’ll change to the London flight. I’ll do it now.”

“And then your family will hate me. I’ll see you soon. You know, right?”

“I know. Y’know, right?”

She kissed his cheek before letting go, stepping back to give distance between them all. 

“Go get your flight. I’ll text when I land in London, please let me know when you get into Perth. Good luck with the quarantine.”

She waved as they walked away, tears streaming down her cheeks. Ever since they’d been locked down on the farm she’d spent every single day with at least Dan, if not Blake and Mike right there beside her. But now she was facing fifty one days alone and all Em could do until they announced her flight was cry.

Taglist (let us know if you want to be added!)

@dr3lover @sabrinaselina55 @majx00 @tall-tanned-tattoo @lovingdennishauger @lauehr @msolbesg @f1medlife @idkwtfimdoing2 @leclercsbae @hiphopdancer101universe @mehrmonga @lewispool @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @coldheartedmar @sugarbabygirlofdaddy @nonsensical-nonce @a-distantdreamer @tita010 @leslizzle @javden @mloyer @magical-imagination-kgp @danarysstormborn @kakorrhaphiophobia @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e

#daniel ricciardo x reader #Call it what you want fic #ciwyw writing #daniel ricciardo imagine #Daniel ricciardo oneshot #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo fic #formula one imagine #formula one fanfic #formula one oneshot #f1 fanfic #f1 oneshot #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 oneshot

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Hello! I have come asking for you to info-dump about the the modern human au. I full of brain rot of them (especially after the last thing you posted about them, damn) Maybe you can tell us a bit more Sally!!

lucky for you, i've been full of that good ol brainrot As Well! thoughts! feelings! ideas! i got em!

so since we're already on the subject of the Crash Arc, allow me to expand on it for a moment before i get to Sally Thinkings! if you've read the snippet, you may have noticed the extent of Wally's injuries was not listed yet. well! he got messed up with a capital F! since it's fiction and i'm god in this scenario, i'm veering slightly away from realistic damage, immediate & lasting. bc lets be real. if i stuck to "this is as realistic as i can make it", then Wally would be aaaaaabsolutely fucked. it was a bad crash in a very unsafe vehicle at high speeds. like - this is what happened. a drunk driver hit Home going 70 down the freeway. swerve, fishtail, tumble down a (small, shallow, really its more like a glorified ditch) ravine with trees and rocks and shit on it. absolute miracle that Wally didn't die in the crash, let alone during the solid half hour (slightly longer) he was trapped in Home before someone noticed the crash site and called emergency personnel. Wally "hanging up" on Barnaby was actually the impact jarring him so he slipped and hit the end call button. but yeah without going into technicalities and detail, Wally has some lasting damage in his dominant hand. It takes extensive physical therapy for him to be able to paint/draw again at the same level he had been at. the hematoma hadn't done a lot of brain damage that wouldn't resolve itself with time. in my mind, when Wally wakes up in the hospital, for a few days he's very confused and his memory is shot. he'll wake up, interact, then go to sleep, but when he wakes up again its like waking up for the first time again. he just can't retain memories for a bit. he's got some severe brain fog. his mood is also kinda fucked with - he's uncharacteristically irritable with low patience, etc. these are all things that clear up with time, but in my mind Wally has chronic migraines going forward. bad ones! and there are days where it's harder fr him to concentrate. and yk. a teeny bit of chronic pain where his shin bone was pinned back together and where his hand was essentially crushed. but other than that he's fine going forward! good days and bad days!

but enough about that! You Want To Hear About Sally!

i imagine that she becomes quite successful in the theater industry. i'm not too familiar with it myself, so i'm gonna be uh. Vague about it? but she starts her own theater troupe - it's a bit of a commute from home base to the town she works in, where the theater is located in, but she makes it work! of the group, she's probably away more than any of them. working on shows, traveling to work on other ones - i like to think she's been on Broadway! she probably has had opportunities to do tv/movie acting, but idk... i feel like Sally would be like "nah. live shows or nothing". maybe at some point she takes up voice acting gigs, as long as she can do them from home. she probably has her own little room-turned-VA-studio thing. idk how that works either! it seems right! but yes Howdy's store's automated messages and advertisements are in Sally's voice. she's probably picked up a temporarily modeling gig here and there.

so Sally is very very busy. Poppy is supportive. everyone is, and they all love to help out when they can - and reel Sally in when the "stardom" starts to get to her head. they do their best to acclimate to occasionally getting jumpscared by her voice in a grocery store or in. idk. fashion shoots. victoria's secret billboards. that last one was a joke! maybe. i think she would.

i also like to imagine Sally like... getting some sort of award and then spending a solid five minutes naming her friends, thanking them with specificity, and then plugging their own stuff. they probably have a rotation for who accompanies her as her plus one for events and parties she may or may not be invited to. she's not like... a Big celebrity but! she's Known and Liked! she has Connections! i like to imagine her and Wally looking dapper as fuck at a Venue...

so the friend group typically stays together, with Sally going off to do her Things the most. she makes sure to schedule time to be with her friends and girlfriend/wife/Poppy between work and gigs and etc. she somehow finds a balance with Ease. or apparent ease... someone get this girl a vacation...

#lmao now im thinking about them all scheduling a joint vacay #sally is having the time of her life getting to Relax and just Pamper Herself #everyone else is also greatly enjoying the break #except howdy. he's a mess. to him relaxing is working. things are too calm. too quiet. understim effect x100 #on that vein ive been thinking about a covid arc and its. Funny #and domestic! #where are the covid fics of characters getting stuck together during lockdown... #rambles from the bog #wh modern human au #but yes been thinking about the au a lot #ive decided that wally does eventually get a job that he actually Enjoys! #previously he was just doing his indie art and such. bc he'd try a job and be like 'wow. i hate this. this is stupid. bye' #his art brings in more money anyway. he's living that miraculous imaginary life where art provides reliable sustainable income #enough so that barnaby doesn't need a full time job! bc this is fiction and i want them to have an easy life #in this specific area anyway #i would like them to live in a world where its slightly kinder... the housing crisis doesnt exist... one can live on minimum wage... #also thinking more about their homes and such. etc!

[deathmetalunicorn1]

I was just watching a video on s YouTube channel called World Friends about word differences between how Americans and British use the same words and OMG! This made me think of a hilarious scenario lol.

I would like to request an American gets transported to ror in Hlokk’s and Jacks waiting room,she was gonna go visit a relative a few states away or maybe go camping in her RV or something so she already has all her necessities like clothes,meds,pads,phone,iPod,iPad,movies,portable DVD player,tea,books,all the good stuff. She’s allowed to stay with Hlokk and Jack and she shares her tea collection with Jack offering some of her Twinnings Lady Grey tea. She spills something on her pant leg at some point be it food or tea I’ll let you pick, so she says she has to go wash it off, while in the bathroom she realizes it’s stained so she hollers to jack, “Hey Jack my pants are stained! I have a spare pare in my bag could you get them out and bring ‘em to me please?!”

https://youtu.be/n3lgSobnvSw

-When Jack told you that he and Glokk wanted to give camping a try, he knew that he wanted to come to you, since you were always camping and knew all the ins and outs of camping.

-Plus you had an RV that meant they didn’t have to sleep outside if they didn’t want to.

-You were a new addition to Valhalla, having been transported there by accident, RV and all, but you were welcomed warmly and found good friends in the Valkyries.

-That’s why you were surprised that Hlokk asked you to take her and Jack camping, as she was one of the more ‘indoor’ type of Valkyrie, but you welcomed them warmly and told them what to pack.

-Riding in the RV was definitely an adventure, it was like a house on wheels, and since you were a good driver, the ride was very smooth and Hlokk was able to explore, seeing all of the snacks and goods you had stocked while Jack sat next to you up front, enjoying the journey.

-Once at your camping spot you set up a large tent and started the battery powered electric pump for the inflatable mattresses, since the weather was nice and warm, perfect for camping.

-Jack enjoyed being outdoors, inhaling deeply as he was relaxing in one of your lounge chairs while you and Hlokk were gathering good to make a campfire with.

-Jack was concerned when Hlokk screeched loudly and ran back to the camp, running immediately into the RV and shutting the door.

-Your laughter was heard next as you came into the campground with the sticks you collected, “It wasn’t going to hurt you! Chipmunks are skittish with humans.” Hlokk was bright red when she peaked out, pouting that you were teasing her.

-Jack found fishing to be very…eventful, as he had slipped after walking into the river after you, wearing a spare set of waders, drenching himself, but since it was warm he wasn’t overly bothered and he caught the biggest fish of the three of you.

-Hlokk gagged when you prepped the fish for dinner, gutting them and removing the bones and scales, something Jack teased her lightly for. However, you were able to appease her afterwards when you pulled out the goodies to make s’mores.

-Jack was only able to eat one, finding it too sweet and offered to make tea, which you and Hlokk both agreed for and he went into your RV to get your electric kettle and tea bags.

-Jack prepared the tea and when he stood to hand you your mug, he slipped and dumped the hot tea onto your lap.

-You instantly squealed in pain as he panicked and you quickly headed into your RV to your bathroom to deal with it and change.

-Jack felt terrible, apologizing through the door while the two sat inside the RV on the sofa, wanting to make sure that you were alright.

-You assured them you were okay, just a little hot now, as you were able to deal with it before it burned you too badly before you called out, “Jack, in my bag is a spare pair of pants, can you grab those for me?”

-You heard no response before Hlokk was laughing loudly and you popped your head out, seeing Jack bright red, holding his cheeks, “Y/N that’s- that’s not proper! I’m a gentlemen and shouldn’t be handling a lady’s unmentionables!!”

-You were confused, “My unmentionables? What are you talking about?” you held out the dirty pants, showing him, “I just wanted my other pair of pants I packed.”

-He immediately exhaled in relief, still red but did as you asked.

-Once back outside you inquired with him why he got so flustered, “Why would pants be unmentionables?” Jack flushed again, trying not to look at you before Hlokk giggled, “I forgot! Y/N you’re from America right, well Jack is from England. Pants are what we call panties in England!”

-Your eyes went wide before you sent a sheepish grin over to Jack, immediately apologizing for putting him in a situation like that, but he was quick to brush it off, as he didn’t know that Americans called them something different.

-Your evening was spent around the fire, discussing the difference in words on either side of the pond, “Wait you call fries chips? Then what do you call chips?” as you held up a bag of potato chips, “Oh those are crisps, now going back to these sausages- is that what you called them? We call them bangers.”

-Hlokk was enjoying seeing the difference as you roasted her another marshmallow, wanting just the marshmallow this time as the three of you had fun, enjoying your mini camping trip.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror jack the ripper #ror hlokk

[holllandtrash]

Can you do a quick lando angst

in the kitchen | lando norris

1k words - loosely based on the song by Reneé Rapp But now it's just me And a hundred square feet of bittersweet memories

You reached for the chain around your neck, yanking it off with a harsh tug, not even bothered to see where in the kitchen it landed. Maybe it slid under the fridge or tucked away in one of the corners and wouldn’t be found until the next time Lando swept.

Regardless, it was gone.

The necklace he bought you six months after you started dating meant nothing more than the dust that layered the ground. The golden initials, LN, could rust away for all you cared.

You imagined a day where Lando tried to find the necklace. He watched you pull it off with such force, it had to be in the kitchen somewhere. You thought about him on his hands and knees, searching for the last remnant of your relationship until finally, weeks later, he’d come across it covered in a layer of crumbs and grime.

What would he do with it?

Would he throw it out? Or would he just hold onto it, on the off chance that you came back for it, for him? Would he stand there in the kitchen and ask himself what went wrong?

You used to dance in that kitchen. You in one of his shirts, Lando in a quadrant hoodie with the matching crew socks. He’d spin you under his arms and you’d laugh as he fought not to slip on the tiled floor. Quiet music would play through the bluetooth speaker sitting at the edge of the counter and the only light to guide your movements flooded in dimly from the hallway.

You used to cook together in this kitchen. Side by side, breakfast, lunch and dinner when his obligations didn’t whisk him away. You’d argue over the good cutting board because even though there were three other perfectly good cutting boards tucked away in the cupboard, it was more fun for Lando to pinch your sides and tuck you into his chest as your laughter filled the confined space, it was a sound Lando easily became accustomed to. 

There was a point when he would do anything to hear it, to be the reason your face lit up and that breathtaking melody passed through your lips. He loved to be the reason for your laugh, your smile, all of it.

He told you he loved you for the first time in that kitchen.

It was during the winter break, a week or two before Christmas and you had just gotten back from a holiday party one of your friends hosted. As you were in the process of sliding your jacket off, you verbalised those worrying thoughts you had about still not being able to find a gift for his parents, something you had been muttering about for a few days and you expected the same response when you turned to face Lando. Don’t worry, we still have time.

But he stood there in the kitchen, twisting one of the rings on his finger and staring at you with a look he had never given you before. The only way you could describe it was new. Like Lando had a fresh set of eyes and he was looking at you in a way he had never been able to before tonight.

“What?” You asked, trying to figure out what was going through that head of his. Usually, you could. You knew him better than he knew himself.

But you didn’t expect him to reach for your hand and pull you into his chest. Your arms wrapped around his waist as you stared up at him. The lack of light in the flat didn’t falter your ability to see him so clearly, it never did. 

“I love you,” he whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. The corner of his lips tugged upwards and he nodded, like he was happy with those words, proud that he finally got them out. “I love you,” he repeated. 

He loved you.

At that point, he did. He meant those words and you didn’t doubt it. 

Now? You wondered if the times he did say it, he said it absentmindedly before walking out the door, like he had to remind himself how he felt about you, like he needed to say those words for you, not because he wanted to. 

You didn’t dance in that kitchen anymore, you hadn’t in months. 

You didn’t cook together, relying on delivery apps or eating at separate times. 

You didn’t laugh anymore.

Those words, ‘I love you’ hadn’t been spoken out loud in twelve days. You counted. 

You stopped saying it first, waiting to see if he would take it upon himself to not be the response, but you had too high of expectations for him. Lando stopped telling you that he loved you the second you stopped telling him. 

Did he even realise it? That you had pulled away, that you stopped meeting him at the door to kiss him, stopped dragging him into the kitchen to dance with you. All of those moments, those sweet intimate moments that once meant so much to both of you, had vanished. 

If he noticed, he didn't say anything.

If he noticed, why didn't he say anything?

Why was he still not saying anything?

Why were you just staring at each other? Why were there tears streaming down your face while he just stood there? Why wouldn’t he just tell you that he loved you? When did he stop loving you?

When did he stop loving you?

And when did you stop loving him?

You looked away first, maybe you were looking for the necklace for a quick second or maybe you just couldn’t take that distant stare anymore. He wasn’t looking at you like you were brand new. His eyes were tired, drained. They carried no love for you. 

Without a word, you stepped away from him, mind and heart empty but that’s how the kitchen felt for months now anyway. Four cutting boards just seemed like too much. The music was too loud. This 100 square feet of space was too dark for you to find any sort of comfort anymore. 

There was nothing there for you to hold onto. 

It was just a kitchen.

- this is not edited im sorry if theres mistakes - also sorry i havent written in a hot minute i love u

#lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando norris x y/n #f1 one shot #lando norris one shot #driver scenarios with em

[leclerced]

kinda dubious consent but also… not ?

landos girl has been exploring things and voyeurism / slave play has been one of them . she doesn’t know that her and landos accounts are linked so he knows she’s googling things. one night he gathers all his friends around (playing cards , drinking , laughing , the works) and lando signs his girl up to be… entertainment. it’s oscar , logan , carlos , daniel and max v. and he tells her to undress and start touching herself in front of everyone. it ends up with everyone cumming on her tits then lando takes her to the shower and cleans her up with proper aftercare but she is dripping and begging lan to fuck her against the shower wall

-🪼🪼🪼

ok sorry for the delay i just got home from work nd im cooking dinner. love this sm. adding a read more for dubcon warning

lando knows she likes being watched, seen the way she gets when his friends are watching them in the club. she’ll shift so her dress rides up her thighs and lando’s hand slips further up, teasing the hem of her dress, daring him to slip his fingers under and feel how wet she’s gotten for him.

he stumbles upon the searches one day when it autofills a website link and he clicks on it out of curiosity. he immediately begins hatching a plan to put her in the exact scenario as the one described. it’s put on the back burner for weeks or months bc its mid season, but then summer break rolls around and they’re all back home for a few weeks. lando invites the guys over for hang out. lando's got a round table for game nights and they’re all sitting around it when he calls out for her. she’s wearing pajama shorts and one of his shirts, peeks her head in to ask if they need snacks or anything. he beckons her into her room with the wave of his hand and she follows his direction and moves to stand by his chair, resting a hand on his shoulder. she asks what he needed and he lifts her onto the table in front of him, saying he wants her to touch herself. she thinks he’s joking at first and laughs, but then he’s like, “c’mon don’t you wanna give ‘em a show?” she tries to look around to gauge their reactions, wondering if lando somehow found out about her little secret fantasy, or if he’s just drunk too much, wondering if he spoke to anyone else about this, or if they’re all as confused as she is. he guides her to look back at him with a soft hand on her jaw and says, “look at me, just me. they don't matter, yeah? just focus on me." as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of her shorts, she automatically lifts her hips so he can tug them down. he'd smirk because she wasn't wearing any panties and say smth cheeky about it.

he’d tell her to touch herself, show them how bad she wants him. she’s not usually very shy with lando, but with an audience she’s suddenly… a little more reserved. lando puts his hands on her thighs and pushes them apart and guides her hand to her center. lando would tell her exactly what to do, tell her to pretend it’s his hand and part her lips, swirl her finger around her clit. he’d tease her for already being wet, for visibly getting wetter as he commands her. she’d go slow and be quiet at first, until lando was telling her to stop muffling her moans and speed up, or he’d take over because he knows she’ll be more reactive to his touch. making her finger herself while he rubs her clit, or even pushing her back on the table and eating her out.

he’d make her beg to cum, make her beg his friends and wait until all the other driver’s eagerly gave their approval until he told her she could cum each time. he’d praise her and tell her how good she is while he’s eating her out and fingering her, but also talk to his friends about how good she is and tastes. he’d ask his girlfriend if she wants to watch them get off while she touches herself and she practically begs them to. can imagine daniel would be the one to ask if he can cum on her first, and she turns into a whimpering mess begging lando to let him and he’s like, “why stop with danny? want to let them all paint your pretty tits? go ahead boys, give my girl what she wants.”

and omg imagine her crying in the shower bc she wants to be fucked so bad and lando’s being all sweet and trying to clean her up and she can’t think about anything but how bad she wants him. he turns to grab her body wash and loofa and when he turns back she’s got tears in her eyes and looks like she’s in pain. instantly, he’s super worried he fucked up and she wasn’t into it but did it for him and he asks whats wrong, drops the loofa and sets the body wash back on it’s shelf to cup her cheeks and make sure she’s okay. her voice would crack and she just whines and grabs his wrist, dragging it down between her legs as she spreads them and begs him to fuck her. his mind does a complete 180, going from worried back to turned on in seconds and he’d start teasing her, pressing his thumb to her clit as he asks her what’s gotten her so wound up? says he’s trying to clean her up and take care of her and she’s so fucked out, she just whines and begs more, sliding back against the slick tile wall as lando smirks down at her.

he’d give in easily, lifting one leg to rest on his hip as he sinks into her and she just starts babbling thank you over and over, whining his name and praising him and his cock for filling her so well. he’d degrade her a little for being so turned on just from being watched, from his friends cumming all over her. call her his little slut and it makes her clench around him as she whines pitifully. he wouldn’t have ever thought he’d be this into it, but the way she’s so fucked out and desperate for him makes him want to have his friends over weekly so he’ll get to keep seeing her like this for him.

#ask #🪼 anon #ln4

[old-lorarri]

national anthem . . . ❨ send me driver + a scenario/prompt (example: friends to lovers with lewis hamilton) and I'll make a small playlist for it ❩

he fell first but she fell harder witch charles leclerc

CHARLES LECLERC + HE FELL FIRST SHE FELL HARDER

those eyes ─ new west

here with me ─ d4vd

I wanna be yours ─ arctic monkeys

the night we met ─ lord huron

until I found you ─ stephen sanchez, em beihold

#↳˳:;; 2k — celly ᵕ̈ ೫˚∗:

[bencan-t]

I left my phone in a Lyft and now I have a personal crusade against mobile-only applications.

When I realized I'd left my phone in the Lyft I thought, "well, I'll log into Lyft on my computer and I can call the driver from my laptop." I logged into Lyft on my laptop, and my profile loaded for a hot second...before Lyft gave me a message that their website doesn't work anymore, I have to use the app. Is the app available to download on my computer? No it is not. So I have to call my spouse from my laptop, have em log into my Lyft account on eir phone, and contact the driver.

While I'm waiting for the driver to get the message and return my phone, I think, "okay, at least I'll get some work done while I wait." WRONG. My 2FA app I need to get into the database at work? Also mobile-only!

I am begging tech companies to have a working web-based app in addition to mobile apps for exactly this kind of scenario. If I didn't have my spouse to call I would be stuck hoping the driver finds my phone.

#extremely niche ben content

[raineandsky]

#9

They thought they’d never see retirement.

Chasing down criminals for a week was bad enough, but their chief has been breathing down their neck for years about this one in particular. They’ve never met anyone that could evade them for this long, to the point that the victory of catching them was wildly overshadowed by the relief that it was over.

They’d handed their badge and gun over to the chief the moment the thief was in the back of the police car, and while he was saddened he wasn’t surprised. “You can save a bit of money on the red string,” was how he’d left it.

The drive home feels no different, and yet also like the entire world has changed. The usual red lights annoy them, the same reckless drivers getting on their nerves, but after tonight they’ll never have to make this journey again. This moment is long overdue.

They pull into their driveway, clamouring out and making their way to their front door. They decide they’ll just make some microwave mac and cheese and pass out on the sofa tonight as they turn the key in the lock. Now that they actually have free time, they think they might try cooking something actually healthy. The more they think about the freedom of retirement the more they feel a rush of relief that it’s finally here.

“Hold on a second, detective,” says someone from next to them, and they jump back in surprise. They can only wish they’d kept the gun as they come face to face with the thief they’ve spent years tracking down. The one they watched leave in a police car less than an hour ago.

“You just got arrested,” they say dumbly, not entirely sure what else they’re meant to say in this scenario. The thief only grins at them.

“Custody security ain’t half as tight as prison security.” They laugh heartily, and the detective frowns. They’ll have to speak to the chief about that. “You don’t think this is my first rodeo, do ya?”

They’re starting to feel a little boxed in, despite having the upper hand – they can see the metal of the handcuffs still on their wrists catching the light of the streetlamp across from them. Then again, maybe they don’t have the upper hand, considering this criminal somehow knows where they live, but maybe that isn’t a surprise since they seem to know all the good places to steal from in the first place.

The thief just watches them whilst their mind runs through the endless possibilities, clearly expecting an answer to their rhetorical sounding question and souring slightly when it’s met with silence. “I thought I’d make you an offer, detective,” they continue once the lull annoys them enough. “Get you in your chief’s real good books, y’know?”

“It’s not detective anymore, criminal,” they snap, though their shortness is only met with an even more joyous grin. “And he’s not my chief anymore. I’ve retired. Bother someone else with your felonies.”

Another humoured laugh bubbles out from the thief. “But you’re good at your job. He’d definitely want you back if he knew you were getting inside information and all.”

“It took me weeks to find some people, I’m not–” The detective pauses, the thief’s words sinking in. “What did you just say?”

“You’re so desperate for flattery, detective. I said you’re good at your job.”

“Not that bit, you moron. The last part.”

The criminal smirks knowingly. “He’d want you back if he knew you were getting inside information.”

They narrow their eyes at them suspiciously. They don’t want to let a just escaped criminal toy with them, but this would be an opportunity that would make them a hero. They could retire as a name to remember. “And why would I be getting inside information?”

“You didn’t think I pulled off those city-halting crimes alone, did ya?” The thief huffs, their expression scrunching up in distaste. “The bastards I was working with set me up. I wanna get ‘em back.”

It’s the offer of a lifetime. They could sniff out several of the guys they’ve been slowly tracking down in a matter of days. That’s if the thief is being honest, of course.

The thief holds up their hands. The metal of the cuffs clanks as they do, though the detective notices that they’re now in their grip instead of securely around their wrists. “What–”

“Thief and escape artist kinda go hand in hand,” they drawl. “I wore these ‘specially for you. Did it make me seem more trustworthy? More safe?”

Yes. “I don’t trust you either way.”

The thief shrugs nonchalantly. “Okay, well, check your post on your way in. We can talk again when you see where that information gets you.”

They point towards the door, and the detective’s gaze follows their finger to the fat package stuffed unceremoniously into their letterbox. They turn back to ask what on earth they think they’re doing, but they only find the bushes of their own garden. The thief is gone – back on the loose despite just being arrested. They don’t really feel like they have many options as they finally let themself inside and take the thief’s package with them.

#writing #creative writing #writing community #writers on tumblr #writblr #detective x thief #drank a whole energy drink for the first time in a while today. um #im having a grand time but i am suffering. god save me tryna sleep tonight

[mogai-sunflowers]

MOGAI BHM- Belated Day 22!

happy BHM! today i’m going to be talking about the Black history behind modern American EMS/EMT systems!

Background and Context-

For a long time, ambulance services were primarily operated by police forces. No laws required anything beyond the most basic of medical training for paramedics, and many times, white cops were punished by being forced onto ambulance duty in Black neighborhoods, which led to increased tensions, and to the huge disparities in response times to emergencies in white neighborhoods, and emergencies in Black ones.

However, in 1966, a paper was published by the National Academy of Sciences which revealed that every year, an estimated 50,000 people died in scenarios that could’ve been prevented had their ambulance staff been more properly and adequately trained. In Pittsburgh, a man named Peter Safar, who was a doctor who had lost his 12 year-old daughter to an asthma attack that easily could’ve been treatable, became very disillusioned with the current ambulance systems in America.

The Freedom House Ambulances-

[Image ID: A black-and-white photograph of a group of men, most Black and two in the center white, standing and kneeling together in front of an ambulance vehicle. Almost all the Black men are dressed in the same uniform- a white collared short-sleeved shirt with a black neck tie, white pants, and black leather shoes. The two white men are dressed in dark suits. End ID.]

One day, Dr. Peter Safar was approached by a former ambulance driver named Philip Hallen, who wanted to do something about the severe issues with the current ambulance systems in America. They thought that their ideas would be a good chance to help impoverished, unemployed Black men from Pittsburg’s Hill District find work, so with the help of the fledgling Freedom House Services, they gathered a group of 25 Black men from impoverished areas of Pittsburg, and formed the Freedom House Ambulance Service.

The first group of recruited men were trained in an intensive, 300-hour course on medical training about many different medical topics- and this was the first time ambulance drivers had ever been provided actual medical training in America. They learned key medical procedures like resuscitation and intubation techniques, and Safar, known by some as the “Father of CPR” for his groundbreaking work in resuscitation research, trained them in CPR- and they learned how to provide medical support beyond a ride to the hospital. Within the Hill District, the Freedom House Ambulance Services were extremely successful- so successful that the FHAS director, Dr. Caroline, was contracted by the US Department of Transportation to write the first national curriculum guide for emergency street medical assistance, and the FHAS’s impact spread nationally, becoming the blueprint for emergency medical assistance across the country. 

And yet, despite all this, racism in the police force eventually forced the FHAS to be absorbed by a new city-wide EMS service which, although using the blueprint of the FHAS, was extremely hostile to its Black paramedics in an attempt to eliminate them altogether from the program. Some white patients even refused to be treated by Black paramedics. Nevertheless, original FHAS staff like John Moon, who directed the Freedom House Enterprises until 2009 and was the first paramedic to intubate a patient in the field, were the first paramedics in America, and the work they did has forever changed the world of medicine and emergency care.

tagging @metalheadsforblacklivesmatter​ @bfpnola​ @intersexfairy​ 

Sources-

https://www.npr.org/2022/09/27/1124161896/at-freedom-house-these-black-men-saved-lives-paramedics-are-book-topic

https://freedomhousedoc.com/

https://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJMp2035467

https://emsmuseum.org/collections/archives/service/freedomhousepa/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freedom_House_Ambulance_Service

#mogai bhm #mogai #mogai community #bhm #black history month #blm #black lives matter