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dilemmaontwolegs · 4 months

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Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {5}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: The most anticipated race of the year is here, and the most controversial, Las Vegas GP. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff, angst, injury WC: 3.5k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

Round Twenty Two - Las Vegas

Kristian sat on a weight bench, flipping through the pages of the motherhood magazine he was reading. Every so often he would look up and give some guidance until the tips became a nuisance.

“I should have fired you,” you muttered as you rose up from the last lunge.

“You say that a lot but you should keep your back straight,” he shot back, grating you further with the slow scrape of the page turning. “And keep your feet in line with your hips.”

“Can we play some decent music at least?” you whined between the gulps of water you swallowed down. The training was far less intensive than they used to be with everything focused on just maintaining fitness and health rather than a goal weight or strength like before.

“Nope,” he chuckled, clearly enjoying being able to boss you around the gym again. “Baroque is good for the baby.”

“Bullshit.” There was no way the classical music meant anything to her, she was only the size of an avocado - or so Lando said. He had an app that he checked daily and uploaded photos onto as a keepsake.

Kristian turned back to the start of the magazine and turned it around, tapping the title of the article. “So you think you know more than Harvard scholars now, Spitfire?”

He took your silence for defeat and pointed to the pool door. “Twenty lap cool down and then it’s breakfast.”

Your stomach grumbled at the mention of food and you grabbed a towel as you passed the door to the changing room. Breakfast didn’t feel like the right term since it was well past lunchtime. The whole Las Vegas schedule had screwed your body clock with the late night practices and qualifying rounds but you were grateful it was the last night of it.

Lando and Charles had been fast asleep when you slipped out of the room. Something had disturbed you from the dream you were having and despite the room being pitch black with the thick blockout curtains your body could tell it was daytime. Thankfully Kristian was already awake and happy to move your fitness session up a few hours.

Cool water washed over you as you dove into the tepid pool and started to glide along the surface. One, two, three, breathe. One, two, three, breathe. The monotony was therapeutic and you didn’t even bother to keep count of the laps - your mind was elsewhere.

You had been dead on your feet in the wee hours of the morning after you finally left the track with Lando and Charles after qualifying finished. They still had adrenaline flooding their systems and had no hope of sleeping when they sunk into the couch cushions and pulled your exhausted body over their legs.

You were in a drowsy state, half asleep but half aware of the other two chatting quietly together. Their hands had softly caressed your skin, brushing your shirt up so they could feel the warmth of your abdomen beneath their palms.

“She’s so beautiful, Cha, and she’s carrying our kid. I don’t think I have ever been this happy in my life,” Lando hummed as he rested his head on Charles’ shoulder and smiled at their hands.

“We are very lucky to have her,” he agreed as he kissed Lando softly.

“So…” You tasted the mischief in Lando’s drawn out tone and it stirred some energy back into your body. “When can I start calling you daddy?”

Charles’ legs shifted beneath you with a groan and you willed your eyes to open as his cheeks flushed pink. “Mon cher...”

“You can call me papi chulo,” Lando smirked. “It means-”

“I know what it means,” Charles choked, knowing exactly who had taught him that too. “Carlos is a menace, but if anyone is going to be papi chulo it’s me.”

You nearly swallowed a mouthful of water as the memory of what had happened next led to a lapse in your count and you pulled yourself out of the pool with a splutter. Those two had a lot to answer for.

“Here,” Kristian said as he tossed a bottle of water to you. “Try not to drink from the pool.”

“What would I do without you?” you asked dryly.

“I don’t dare to think about that,” he joked before he said your favourite words. “Let’s go eat.”

You stared at the egg on your plate before pushing it away with disinterest. Charles looked up from his own plate and frowned at the rare sight of the food that remained on yours.

“Would you like something else, mamie?”

You smiled at the new endearment and watched Lando cut an avocado in half before passing one part over to you. The vibrant green flesh did look delicious but when you held it in your hand you could only think about the bump that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. You hadn’t noticed it before changing into your swimsuit but when you peeled the tight layer off in the gym's changing room you had frozen. The mirrored wall caught your side profile under glaring fluorescent lights and there, just below your belly button it swelled ever so slightly.

A hand waved in front of your face and you broke away from the memory to see both your boyfriends watching you with worried frowns. One of them had obviously spoken to you but you couldn’t recall hearing them as you stared at the avocado.

“You’re crying,” Lando murmured as he swiped away the tear on your cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s this big already. Our baby is the size of an avocado. She’s so tiny,” you said with a small laugh, raising the fruit higher for inspection. They looked at you like you were a little crazy and it wouldn’t have been the first time that was suspected but you pushed the chair out and placed the avocado back on the table. “Come, I want to show you something.”

You led them to the bedroom and Charles opened his mouth to break the bad news that they didn’t have time for even a quickie. The thought had crossed your mind when you found them still naked and splayed across the bed before breakfast was ready, but they needed to get to the track soon for media duties and to prepare for the race.

“That’s a shame but also not what I came here for,” you admitted as you started to remove your shirt.

“I’m getting mixed messages here,” Lando chuckled as he reached for his own shirt. “But I don’t mind being late.”

“Stop, before I really do make you stay,” you chuckled knowing they would do anything for you. You dropped your shirt and turned sideways while you stared at the reflection in the mirror. “Look…”

Their eyes followed the wave of your hand, the way your palm drifted over your hip to cradle the small bump, and Lando gasped along with Charles soft praise. Knees hit the soft carpet below your feet and warm lips replaced your hand, teasing your skin with kisses. Two heads of dark hair bowed against your stomach and whispered words of promise you couldn’t quite hear, but they weren’t for your ears. Finally they looked up, emerald and azure eyes filled with enough love that you were certain your chest was going to crack open.

You reached for their cheeks and felt the same dampness that coated yours. “She’s real,” you whispered. It had taken a few weeks but finally it all felt real. She wasn’t just a picture on a piece of paper or measurements of a hormone in a blood test. She was real, and she was yours.

“You look like a twat,” you greeted Max with a grin, flapping the collar of his race suit made to replicate Elvis Presley. “You’re just missing the blue suede shoes.”

Max rolled his eyes and ducked his head when you tried to mess his gelled hair up. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“Oh I am,” you laughed, slipping back into Charles’ side. “I’m actually happy to sit out this circus act.”

Max narrowed his eyes as he scanned your face for a lie or bitterness but all he saw was a bright smile and genuine amusement sparkling in your eyes. A sense of relief washed over him as for the first time since losing your seat you looked completely content and happy.

“I don’t blame you,” he finally replied and looked down at the costume he had been given. He would be glad when all this was over too. “I’ll see you at Omnia?”

The sun had already set on the strip and the temperature was quickly dropping as the hour grew late, and closer to the start of the race. “Maybe, if it’s a boring race I might not even be awake to see the end of it.”

“Fair enough.” He hoped you would be there to celebrate whatever the results were but he knew you were more exhausted in your current state and wouldn’t hold it against you. Christian waved at Max from across the street that divided the hospitality area from the garages and he gave you a quick hug, clapping Charles in the shoulder as he passed. “The Ring Master calls.”

“Drive safe!” He threw a thumbs up over his shoulder in answer and you laced your fingers with Charles’ before continuing to the McLaren garage.

It was strangely quiet for a race that had been hyped up so much over the last year, but you were kind of relieved that there were less people to weave between. It was great that the sport was growing in popularity but it was a pain in the ass trying to get anywhere when you are squashed like sardines in the paddock.

Somehow you still managed to bump into someone.

“Shit, sorry, Logan.”

“That was my bad,” he apologised as he turned to face the direction he was walking, waving back to the fan who had stopped him. His eyes widened when he saw who he had collided with and regret painted on his face. “Shit, are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I, or the, um…” he waved a hand to your stomach and you tilted your head wondering who had told him.

“I’m fine, but you knew?”

Logan scratched the back of his neck nervously and shrugged. “The walls were thin in the medical centre.”

You were dumbfounded and the sound that bubbled from your chest confirmed it. “Huh.”

“I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t,” he promised before his name was called and he waved to his PT. “Oh, congratulations though, I probably should have started with that.”

Charles laughed and shook the American’s hand. “Thanks, mate.”

You smiled and accepted the half hug he offered, probably thinking a handshake would be even more awkward. “Thanks, and congrats on your first point too.”

“Not as exciting as a baby.”

“Yeah it is,” you laughed, remembering your first point for Alpha Tauri. “That’s your baby right now.”

His smile grew as he set off to his PT and you carried on your way to see Lando before the race. There was still over an hour until lights out but every minute had been scheduled for media duties, meet and greets, and the driver parade. You wanted to have a few moments of their time before releasing them to the wild.

Charles’ hand slipped from yours as you reached McLaren and he cradled your cheek before kissing you. “Are you alright to get back on your own?”

You rolled your eyes before looking at the Ferrari space four garages down. “I don’t know, it’s pretty far…I might get lost and end up in the Bellagio.”

“If you do, bet it all on Red for me,” he joked. The smile on his face dimmed as he saw the magician and Carlos waiting for him. “I’ll see you after the race, mamie. Je t’aime.”

“Love you too.”

“And Lando too.” He would have preferred to tell Lando himself but he just ran out of time with all the activities his team had planned for race day.

“I’ll let him know, and I’ll even give him a kiss from you,” you teased as you stole another kiss for good measure.

“Any advice from the current world champion?” he asked as he started to back away.

You shook your head. “It’s Vegas, baby, just give them one hell of a show.”

To say the atmosphere in Ferrari was charged was an understatement. There was resentment for Carlos’ car being destroyed and his mechanics gritted their teeth as they walked to the middle of the grid thanks to the penalties for fixing the car. On the other side of the garage, the side where you sat with Joris, excitement permeated the air as you watched Charles’ walk to his car parked in pole position.

You were torn between that excitement and the sadness that had followed you since leaving McLaren. Lando was being too hard on himself again for the bad luck he had qualifying 15th, but he was determined to make his way to the front of the pack. If anyone was going to be called Spitfire in the race, it was going to be him. He was going to dogfight his way forward from the moment the lights went out.

One of the cameras panned the crowd and you spotted him walking up from his spot three quarters of the way down the grid, all the way to the front where Charles was talking to Max. For a moment you were once again hit with the sense of longing to be out there but the feeling washed away as quick as it came.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Joris asked as he looked up from his phone. You chuckled knowing Charles would have sent the reminder text but you shook your head.

“I’m fine, thank you. And you can tell Charles I am keeping hydrated too,” you said with a smile, shaking your water bottle for him to see.

“You can always trust him to worry more about others, even when he’s meant to be focusing on the race,” he laughed as he sent the reply. “Have you thought any more about where you want to go for the maternity shoot?”

Charles had been eager to lock his friend in as the official bump photographer but there was still another four months until it was the best time to have them taken. He was also open to taking photos while you were in labour but you weren't too sure how you felt about that yet.

“Somewhere warm.”

“So no alpine backdrops then,” he chuckled, probably remembering how much you had complained about hiking in the snow last winter.

You scoffed at the idea, an adamant refusal to it. “Not if you’re expecting me to wear something that shows the bump.”

The action around the garages stilled as the guests on the grid were guided away for the formation lap to begin and you breathed a sigh of relief when Charles made it back to the first box without drama. Even Joris released a nervous laugh beside you.

“That’s a better start,” he murmured so the engineers around him didn’t hear.

“Couldn’t get any worse than the last one,” you replied just as quietly.

You held your breath and felt the same rush of adrenalin fill you as if you were right out there in front of the lights with them. Your fingers twitched at your sides, the muscle memory begging them to prepare for action as each red light appeared, then all five were gone. The keen whines of twenty engines accelerating to their limit screamed into the night and you grinned at the sound even though it was muted by the headset.

“Oh, fuck off, Max,” you screamed as he pushed Charles wide and they both went off track before pulling back on with your brother taking the lead. Suddenly your attention was brought to the back of the pack where multiple cars had been involved in an incident, but Lando had managed to avoid it and slip ahead a few places too. “Come on, baby, you can do it.”

Although there had been a lot of complaints about the showy nature of racing in Las Vegas, there was no denying it was a track that offered a lot of entertainment with long straights to overtake and high risk high reward corners too. You could barely sit still with your eyes glued to the many screens around the garage offering almost every angle of the race.

“Ok, I think this race has just redeemed itself,” you commented with a smile as you watched the battles taking place around the track.

“It is pretty amazing,” Joris said with his own excited grin, but shock fell over him and you snapped your head back to screen dreading seeing Charles out of the race again. But it wasn’t Charles.

Sparks flew as the floor hit the asphalt and your brain couldn’t seem to understand why Lando’s car was facing the wrong way. Still it kept skidding along the straight at full speed, spinning back around just before it collided with the barrier at the end of the runoff. Your breath left your lungs with the force of the collision and your entire body stiffened as your ears began to ring loudly. Your stomach lurched as you desperately hit the keys on the screen to select the driver view and you saw Lando’s shaking hands pull his steering console out.

“I, I need to go,” you whispered as you stood up on weak legs. “Can you tell Charles?”

“Xavi can do that, I’ll walk with you,” he said with a shake of his head. His arm looped with yours and stabilised you as you tried to rush out of the garage. They weren’t even stopping the race because he wasn’t on track and that made you feel even sicker. What if someone else went into the runoff?

“Mr Norris,” Joris called out, waving the worried man down. You blinked as you realised you were already in the McLaren garage, but you couldn’t remember the walk there.

“He’s alright,” Adam assured you as he pulled you into his side and thanked Joris for the escort. “I spoke to him after he got out of the car. They are going to the medical centre. Come on, darling, we can go together.”

“He’s alright?” you double checked, your vision blurring with tears.

Adam gave a sure nod as he started back the way you came, except he went towards the medical centre instead of the other garages. “His ribs hurt but he’s tough.”

Max said that when he was a child he would sleep walk, Vicki too. You imagined this was how they felt. Detached. Moving through darkness. Closing your eyes and waking in a new place. You blinked and the concrete path you were on was suddenly linoleum.

“Lando…” you sighed as you found him on a gurney, white blankets tucked in close around him.

“Heeeey,” he slurred happily, wincing as he snaked a hand out of his swaddle to reach for you. “It’s my girls.”

“You’re on the strong stuff, aren’t you, my love?” You faked a smile for him and took his hand, tilting your head towards Adam and the doctor explaining what was happening. You carefully leaned over the bed and kissed Lando until he broke out in giggles and his head lolled lazily back against the pillow.

“They’re taking him to the hospital for some scans just in case there’s any broken ribs,” Adam relayed when he reached your side and gave Lando a kiss on his forehead. “How are you feeling, son?”

“It hurts to breathe, but this is good,” he said, holding up his hand that was connected to the IV bag filled with strong painkillers.

A nurse came and unlocked the wheels on the gurney before asking who was going to ride in the ambulance with Lando. Adam looked at you and nodded, and though you knew he would have wanted to go with his son himself you were selfish and couldn’t leave his side.

“I’ll follow behind,” Adam promised before Lando was wheeled away.

You walked at Lando’s side out of the medical centre and found tv crews waiting, their cameras zoomed in on Lando and capturing his almost drunken state. A little loopy from the drugs in his system, he waved his fingers at the camera. “This will be on Netflix next year,” he laughed before wincing at the pain that flared. “So it’s safe to tell them, ‘I’M GOING TO BE A FATHER!’ and they can’t say a thing.”

Adam froze at his son’s outburst, though it was no secret that he was eager to shout to the world his joy. “Lando…” he growled, looking at your wide eyes.

“What? They aren’t allowed to use the footage for months,” he huffed.

“That’s not Netflix,” you whispered, swallowing the lump in your throat as you watched the tv crew almost tremble with excitement. “That’s Sky TV.”

Click here for the next part.

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

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dreamauri · 4 months

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this completely goes with the last ask but the reader having a tattoo along her spine and Max puts whip cream along with and then licks it off

┇𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗗 𝗖𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗠 ? ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊ ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max vertsappen x fem! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( smut ) ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠word count — ( 886 ) ╰ 🫧 :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

( main master list | more of max verstappen ) ( requests )

The book you were reading was mildly interesting. With the sun barefuky peaking past the blinds of your room and Max's warm body pressed up against your back. You weren't complaining. His nose was nuzzled in your neck, and his arms were wrapped around your tummy. It was calming, listening to his breathing patterns and heartbeat.

It didn't take long till you felt Max pull away to lie on his back. What he usually says next indicates if he's asleep or awake. You have heard him maxolaining about how bad the Las Vegas GP while in his sleep, it's more common that he teaches you how to gear shift and drift though.

It's usually always about racing, and you found it intruiging and cute. He was driving his RB19 and drifting his golf cart in his dreams. Although this time you werent sure what to make of it. "Do we have whipped cream?" He must've been dreaming right? "Yeah, love. In the right door in the fridge." You nodded, pretty convinced that he was out.

And you were wrong. Putting your book down, you felt the bed dip before bouncing. Looking back you found the blond putting his boxers on. You turned on your back, reaching a hand out for him, which he took. Max kneeled on the bed, kissing your knuckles gently before your lips. "Keep reading, Shatje." [love]

You watched him walk put of the room confused, nonetheless going back to the book. You heard the fridge open and close and within seconds max was back in the room, climbing on the mattress and shaking the whipped cream can. You raised an eyebrow at him. Max never really showed and rebellion towards his dietary restrictions, what could he possibly be doing.

You were definitely not expecting him to flip you on your stomach. You were surprised, to say the least. "Max?--" You heard the loud shrrrrp before you felt the sweat on your back. More accurately, down your spine tattoo. You were about to ask what he was going to do when you felt his hot mouth on your skin.

A loud moan dripping from your mouth at the sensation of your lover practically sucking whipped cream of your spine and leaving heavy pickiest with it. You tried to get up, squirming a little. You tried to push the rest of the blanket away since it was only covering you waist under. "Max--" You called for him again, feeling yourself squirm.

"No fair." It came out as more of a whine as he continued to spray the topping on you before sucking it off. "Max, please." You whined again. "Please." You reached a hand back trying to hold him or something only to find your wrist held tight.

You weren't sure if you were still happy about getting the tattoo. It's been a few weeks since you walked out of the tat shop and Max has been stuck to your back since. You haven't even seen his face during sex because you're either always in reverse cowgirl or prone. You have to admit, you are practically jealous of your back at this point.

You tried to wriggle, turning in your spot. Max looked down at you with a pout, adjusting his weight over you so he could kiss you gently. You savoured it, kissing him back with your hands on his neck and shoulder. He tasted like whipped cream, you weren't really expecting another flavour on his tongue. But you enjoyed it. You didn't want to pull away.

"Schat." Max mumbled trying to pull away and turn you back over. "Noo." You whined, doing you best to stay up right. "I want kisses to. Not fair my back gets all the attention." Max chuckled at your behaviour, a small smile as he looked down at your pout. "You want me up right?" He asked, watching you lean up. "Mhm." You nodded, kissing all over his neck and his shoulders.

He held you from your jaw, pulling you in a rough kiss. Squeezed you eyes shut, your arched your body up to meet Max's only for hi to push you down. "Be a good girl." He said between kisses, pining your wrists by your head. You haven't even noticed that he'd pulled his boxers down until you felt his tip rest on your clit.

"We're gonna be quiet because the neighbours have guests over." Max reminded you, adjusting himself on top of you. You let him spread your legs and settle properly. You were already pretty warmed up from the events last night so it was an easy slip in. Max had covered your mouth with his hand as to muffle the loud moan.

He let go of your wrists, which immediately wrapped around his chest. The blond leaned down on his forearms till your bodies were pretty much pressed up into each other. The moans echoed in your mouth as the thrusts began, your eyes closing out of instinct. "look at you." Max whispered, picking up his speed with each thrust.

He a left a long kiss on the underside of your jaw, feeling the vibrations of your moans on his lips. Reaching for the whipped cream, he shook the can before spraying some in his mouth before leaning in for another rough kiss.

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gentlyweeps-world · 6 months

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Viva Las Vegas

summary: After a particularly nasty crash during the Las Vegas GP for the rookie Red Bull racer Y/n L/n, her boyfriend Logan Sargeant, is a mess, wanting to know what happened

pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem! driver

warnings: bad crash, medical attention

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

It was already known that the 2023 Las Vegas GP was controversial, with the drain cover and refund, late times and over the top events, people had had enough.

“I feel so stupid wearing this..”, You mumble out, having to wear a race suit inspired by Elvis Presley for the Grand Prix.

“I dunno, I think it’s fun”, Max Verstappen says, a smile on his face as he admires the suit.

“I thought you said this Grand Prix was horrible”, you said narrowing your eyes at Max, “and that it was all show?”, you add on.

“Yeah well the suits are fun!”, he says, that smile still on his face.

“You just don’t want your boyfriend to see you in it that’s why..”, Max says teasingly, you let out an annoyed huff, rolling your eyes.

You were mostly annoyed because he was right, it was also a bit humiliating. You’re the female rookie driver who took Checos place after he retired in 2022, of course you’d want to be well respected.

You had proven your worth over the 2023 season, often placing P3 with Max on the podium, and of course you’d have your bad races, you are a rookie after all.

But your boyfriend had it much, much worse. Your boyfriend being Logan Sargeant. People thought it was an odd pair, since you were doing so well, but that made you more upset, knowing Logan has so much potential but wasn’t given enough time.

On the bright side he was showing his worth, improving over the season, but with no news on his contract.

“I was right, I knew it!”, Max says with a laugh, breaking you out of your trance, “Yeah..yeah whatever”, you mumble out, rolling your eyes at Max. Over time you and Max grew quite fond of each other, very similar to a sibling relationship.

“You two ready to win?”, You hear Christian ask, Max and you finally showing up in the garage, you both nod your heads at his question, focused on bringing back the win to Red Bull, which wouldn’t be hard with Max.

“Just one more lap to go! With how things are going now we’ll have both Red Bulls on the podium with Charles Leclerc splitting the two on the podium!”, you hear the announcer say.

“Just one more lap Y/n, push”, your engineer says, high hopes that you’ll push through for the P3.

Rounding the eighth corner you feel your break lag out for a moment, “Breaks lagging, doesn’t seem like a huge issue right now”, you say over radio to your engineer.

“Just keep it up for now”, you hear the reply, shaking it off you continue, going down the straight at nine, you’re ready to break for the slight curve at ten until your break, well, doesn’t break.

“Breaks gone! Can’t stop the car, shit!”, you shout over radio, nerves overtaking you as you let go of the steering wheel, your RB19 flying straight into the walls.

Your body thrashes about as your car hits the wall, and somehow, flips over. The force and momentum being too much it slams against the barrier, keeping you stuck in the car.

“Y/n are you alright?”, your engineer asks out, but is instead met with silence.

“It looks like a bad crash from the Red Bull of Y/n L/n!”, the announcer says, “There will be a red flag”

Darkness and silence is all that you’re met with, your body not being able to move.

“Was that Y/n?? Is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay!?”, Logan your boyfriend asks to his engineer as he gets back to the pit lane.

“I’m not sure”, his engineer replies.

As soon as Logan’s Williams is parked in the garage he is up and out of his seat, headset on as he watches the TV screen, anxiously waiting to see if you’re okay.

“Please baby..please be okay”, Logan mutters to himself, still watching as the medical car and staff rush to your aid.

“Y/n?? Are you okay? Please answer”, you can hear Christian ask out, you let out a soft groan.

“It’s all dark and- and I can’t move much, but I’m okay..” you softly reply over the radio, feeling the RB19 being moved and lifted.

Logan lets out a sigh, feeling a hand clap his back, he turns to see James Vowles.

James gives him a knowing look and nod, silently agreeing to let Logan go visit you once you’re sent to medical.

You feel yourself being lifted out of the RB19, both of your arms slung over medical staff as the walk you over towards the ambulance and drive you off to medical.

Once at medical, after you were checked and told you had a concussion, you were met with an anxious and worrisome Logan.

His arms are quick to wrap around you, his head burrowed into your neck as he takes in your scent, relief washing over him now that he has you in his arms.

“I was so worried baby..I thought I lost you..”, he mumbles into your neck, hands clutching at you.

“I wouldn’t leave you Log..you know that..”, you whisper out to him, trying to calm him down.

“It was scary Y/n, not knowing if you were okay or not…just seeing that Red Bull there..”, he says, pulling away from you just enough so he could look into your eyes.

Looking into his blue/green eyes you noticed how stressed he looked, and how bloodshot they were.

Giving him a reassuring smile, you lean up and press a kiss to his lips, pulling his body closer into yours you take in a deep breath.

“The important thing is, I’m here with you now”, you say, placing your head on his chest.

“Shame I couldn’t have been on the podium though…”, you mumble out, disappointment washing over you now.

“Yeah would’ve been nice to celebrate again like we did in Monaco..”, Logan says with a small chuckle, his eyes crinkling when he smiles.

You lightly slap his chest, letting out a small gasp, “Don’t say that!”

radio: Honestly felt this was rushed but I hope it was enjoyable nonetheless. Didn’t have a clue what I was doing for half of it 😭💙 (send in any requests!!)

tag: @treehouse-mouse

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youkissedareaderinthedark · 6 months

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The Scare

Synopsis: A terrifying crash puts Y/n in an even more terrifying situation, and it affects everyone, in the end.

young female driver x 2023 F1 Grid

A/N: for this one, valtteri is retired and reader has taken his seat at alfa romeo

also, @badassturtle13 you requested a fic like this a month or two ago while i was in my writers block-era, but if you remember your ask and would still like to read it, here it is

You knew the risk. All twenty of you did. That’s how yet got into these cars every weekend. But that doesn’t make it any easier when you actually face the risks.

You weren’t the biggest fan of the Las Vegas Grand Prix from the start. You knew the planning for it was rough, and that there were a lot of elements of the weekend that everybody was unsure of.

You weren’t exactly surprised when the reasoning behind the storm drain incident was released after Free Practice 1, or when race directors revealed they didn’t even look at the predicted weather for this weekend.

But there wasn’t much you could do about either, about any of it really, so you put your head down and focused on your car.

You joined Alfa Romeo as the third rookie of the 2023 season, and although you and Zhou weren’t getting wins and podiums each weekend, you finished in the points nearly every race, and helped bring your team up to 8th in the Constructors Championship.

As of the second to last race, you were having a good first season; you and Zhou got along great, your team trusted you, and you liked getting to know and hanging out with the rest of the grid. Specifically, your closest friends Logan and Oscar, who you were walking with in the paddock before Sunday’s race.

“Is it bad that I’m not excited for the race?” Oscar asks from the middle of you three, as you walk down the grid.

“I don’t blame you, I wouldn’t want to start P17 either” You admit.

“You’re gonna be fine Oscar, you’ve made your way up the field before, you’ll do it again” Logan shrugs, assuring him.

Oscar nods as you speak up with the beginning of a smirk on your face. “When you make it up the field and into the points, along with me and Logan, what are we doing to celebrate?”

“No. No, we have-” Oscar’s already shaking his head as Logan laughs. “I know some of the grid is going to a club a few blocks away, you guys wanna go?”

“Yes,” You rush to say after you see Oscar start to protest. “we’ll go. No objections”

“We have flights tomorrow-” You interrupt the Australian. “I don’t care, we should all go. And I have to leave now so you can’t say no” You point out as you near the Alfa Romeo garage. Oscar rolls his eyes playfully as Logan continues to laugh.

“Good luck Y/n, see you after the race” Logan says, still chuckling as Oscar waves and continues down the paddock with the American by his side.

You greet Zhou as you walk towards your drivers room to meet with your trainer. The last 20 minutes you have before you’re needed on the track is spent doing reflex tests and speaking with the strategists one last time.

You leave the garage to stand for the national anthem after a brief Grid Walk interview with Martin, and quickly return for the formation lap.

“Alright Y/n,” Your team principle, Alessandro, comes over your radio as you’re pulling out into the pit lane. “do your best to maintain P7 or higher, just be aware of the tires. Stay safe, good luck”

“Thanks, will do. See you at the finish line” You reply before flipping down your visor and accelerating onto the track.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s a cold night here in Las Vegas, but the city is awake and ready to watch the last U.S race of the 2023 season. Our drivers are approaching the starting line, the five lights are coming on, and it’s light’s out and away we go!”

You manage to pull away from Magnussen behind you and advance closer to Logan in front of you as you near Turn 1. You get through the first and second lap fine, until your race engineers Alex, informs you that Lando’s crashed during Lap 3, and the 19 drivers remaining are being led by the safety car until Lap 7.

You think your race will be uneventful past that point until you notice the reluctance in the car’s breaking during Lap 19. “There’s something wrong with my brakes, it’s getting hard to slow down” You radio concerned, back to your team.

“Stand by Y/n, we’re checking” Alex tells you as you approach Turn 1 on the next lap. After a few moments without an update, you radio again.

“Anything? It’s getting bad, I can’t slow down” Your voice shows your clear concern. It’s clear to everyone that you’re getting more and more distressed each minute.

“One moment, Y/n, we’re trying” The engineer becomes audible again, and you get that everyone in the garage is trying, but right now it’s not enough.

You’re going at 150 miles an hour down the straight after Turn 4, and you could practically hear your heart beating nervously as you approach Turn 6.

You press on the brake pedal. Nothing. You try to release your hold on the accelerator pedal and clutch on your steering wheel. Nothing.

You go through the options in your head;

Turn and crash purposefully now to slow your car down? There are drivers less than a second behind you, the straight isn’t that wide, they could get hurt.

Turn and hit the curb as you pass the corner to slow down? There are drivers less than a second behind you, the corner isn’t that wide, they could get hurt. You could get hurt

Your adrenaline is pumping, thoughts are flying through your head at a million miles per second, and you don’t know what to do.

You’re going 150 miles an hour down a straight, but now the corner is coming closer.

“I can’t fucking stop! Alex!” You’re pressing the radio button frantically, hoping someone, anyone responds.

Nothing.

It all goes by in a flash.

Turn 6 comes at you faster than you imagined. Your Alfa Romeo crashes front-wing first into the barriers, the momentum of a 150 mile-per-hour car so strong, not even your harness can stop your body from colliding into your steering wheel.

Everything goes white for a moment, all you could hear is a deafening ringing in your ears, and then the only thing you could feel is pain.

The hurt in your chest is intolerable. You think you’re screaming. There’s smoke or clouds of dust or something else you can’t begin to decipher in the air surrounding you. You could feel the vibrations of the track from the passing cars below you, but you don’t bother to move your head up from where it rests on top of your wheel.

If the ringing wasn’t so loud, you might’ve been able to hear three of your ribs on the right side of your chest break when you first made impact with the wheel. If the pain wasn’t so unbearable, you might’ve been able to notice how because three of your ribs on the right side of your chest are broken, your lungs can barely produce oxygen for you to breathe.

It’s only when you try to gasp for air against the tears running down your face do you notice. The second you try, it sends streaks of pain overflowing throughout your body. Then you realize. You can’t breathe.

You want to stay calm, you really do, but you’re crying so much you could feel them soaking your balaclava, you’re scared to the point that your hands are shaking uncontrollably, there’s still so much adrenaline in you, and you can’t breathe.

You try to radio your team to tell them to send medics or just do something to help, but when you open your mouth to speak, the same thing happens as when you tried to radio for help earlier.

Nothing.

You’re stuck in your crashed car, without a voice, without a breath, and you think this is it.

It feels like hours, but really, it’s only been about a minute since you’ve crashed. Every grand stand is silent, and Martin Brundle and David Croft are speechless. Alex is trying to communicate with you while the other engineers attempt to figure out the the state of your car. Drivers are being led by the safety car under a red flag, anxiously talking to their own engineers to find out if you’re okay. And finally, the safety marshals and medical staff have made their way onto the track and to your car.

The marshals repeatedly shout to you for a sign of responsiveness while the medics move to pull you out of the car. Everyone else is either running in and out of the ambulance that’s just arrived, or helping place a curtain around you for privacy.

The medics transfer you onto a gurney on the ground while the lead medic assess you. She’s pulled off your helmet and balaclava and is left staring at your pale face, alarmed eyes, and gasping mouth.

A few touches to your pulse and lungs confirm her suspicion, and the woman quickly asserts her team. “She has flail chest, she needs an oxygen machine and an IV for pain meds. Her ribs are broken on the right side of her lungs, she’s been barely breathing”

The materials asked for are provided in seconds, and within a few moments, an oxygen mask is placed around your face, and the skin in your left forearm is being pierced with a needle.

For the first time since you started Lap 19, you’ve found both your voice and your breath, the pain striking through your body isn’t as severe anymore, and your nerves have calmed down.

The lead medic hovering over you notices your less-tense state, and lets out her own breath. “You okay kid?” With an oxygen mask, 3 broken ribs, and an IV in your arm, you nod with small smile of relief on your face.

The medics let you stay laying down on the gurney, and transfer you into the waiting ambulance to get you to the nearest hospital. The safety marshals update the Alfa Romeo garage on your state of health, and your damaged car gets moved off the track. Once informed themselves of the situation, Crofty and Martin advise the anxious and waiting fans of your condition and when the race will resume.

The 18 drivers that were restlessly sat in their garages are now visibly relieved and preparing for the race start. The engineers on your side of the garage are pouring over the data from Lap 19 to figure out where it all went wrong, while your trainer leaves to go meet you at the hospital.

While you’re in the hospital, you get hooked up to a new IV and get assessed by a nurse before a doctor comes in to take your X-rays. The results show your 3 broken ribs and the few bruises on your lungs that are set to heal within a week or two.

You’re put on a ventilator to help your breathing after the doctor tells you that you had to stay in the hospital for at least 3 days, and you’d miss the last race of the season as a precaution.

You also undergo surgery hours later to stabilize the broken ribs, and ensure you’re not internally bleeding. Because of all the anesthesia and pain medicine, your either asleep or painless for your first night in the hospital.

The next day is when you’re brought into the real world again, and your trainer tells you everything you missed. He tells you Lando, who you learn was in the room a few doors down when you came in, visited you after your surgery and wished you to get better soon. He tells you about the rest of the race and everything the rest of the drivers have said about you and your crash.

You talk to your team eventually and convince them to let you travel to Abu Dhabi on Saturday to at least watch the race from the garage. You talk to your parents and friends to inform them that your lungs are healing accordingly, that you’re off the ventilator, and have been breathing fine by Thursday.

You’re discharged from the hospital Friday night, and only stop at your hotel to collect your things before catching a flight to Abu Dhabi. You told Logan and Oscar you’d be arriving Sunday morning, which explains why they’re so surprised when you show up in the paddock after Qualifying Saturday night.

“It’s not the best place to start from but-” Logan spots you first, in the middle of a conversation with Oscar. “Oh my god” Is all he mutters before running up to bring you into a hug. You’re smiling, almost laughing at his reaction, until you hear what the American says.

“Don’t do that again. I thought you-” You notice his voice break, and you’re once again aware of what everyone else was feeling while you were breathless inside your car almost a week ago.

“I won’t Logan, I’m okay now” You assure him as best you can before Oscar comes over to both of you. Logan lets go momentarily while the McLaren driver hugs you.

“We were all really scared, y��know. We didn’t know,” He pauses, his voice catches before he’s speaking into your shoulder again. “we didn’t know if you were okay”

“I know Oscar, I’m here though, I’m okay” You know you can’t say much in sympathy to either of the drivers right now, you’ll never exactly know the anxiety and worry they felt on Sunday, but you do tell them about your time in the hospital and how you’re expected to make a full recovery in time for next season.

“I wish you were driving today though, you should be in your car for the last race” Oscar says as the three of you walk through the paddock together.

“I know, I want to drive too, but at the same time, I’m kind of glad I’m not driving until next season. I want to let my lungs rest and everything before I get in my car again” You say with a shrug.

You were being truthful; you weren’t afraid of crashing again, you actually couldn’t wait to drive your Alfa Romeo, but you heard all the possible long term affects of rib and lung damage, and you’d rather miss out on one race than your entire F1 career.

“I’m just glad you’re okay” Logan admits as Oscar nods.

“Yeah, me too”

a short, somewhat emotional f1 fic. 1 down, 3 to go

#reader insert #formula 1 #driver reader #f1 grid x reader #formula 1 driver imagines #platonic f1 grid #f1 2023 grid x y/n #f1 imagine #female driver reader #angst #angst with a happy ending #oscar piastri x reader #logan sargeant x reader #platonic oscar piastri #platonic logan sargeant

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lenoraah · 8 months

Text

𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘢

pairing - george russell x wife!reader

summary - reader and George always been friend of a friend of a friend, but the 2022 Las Vegas GP and one night out partying with tequila changes out, they only find out until a year later

a/n - this is going to be full of dirty, dirty secrets between characters. i imagine reader to have short raven hair and, weirdly specifically, a tattoo of angel wings with a heart in between them on her chest. but of course the hair color won’t be black and the tattoo might be mentioned…. also reader’s best friend is Daniel Ricciardo and she will have another best friend (who will be named Anastasia) because I need another character and I’m to lazy to add another driver who fits the vibe 🥴 idk, this is so random :) p.s not proofread

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Look what I found!”

Daniel sing-songs happily as he enters the room. He clutches a leather covered book in his hands as a shit-eating grin covers his face.

“What did you find now Daniel?” Y/n sighs as she smiles a little at the excitement in her best friend’s eyes.

“A photo album that someone has been hiding.” Daniel glances at Anastasia who shrugs and sticks her tongue out.

George walks in with a three cups of coffee in his hands just as Daniel is about to open his mouth and the book.

“Hi Georgie,” Stassie teases as George hands her the steaming cup of caffeine.

The Brit rolls his eyes and hands Daniel his coffee next.

“Hi George,” Y/n makes her appearance known and George jumps in surprise.

“Hi Y/n,” George says as a tinted pink color covers his cheeks. “Sorry, I would gotten you coffee too if someone would’ve told me you were here.”

George narrow his eyes at Daniel who scoffs.

“Here, you can have my cup.” Daniel hands his cup to Y/n who glances at George and then smiles sheepishly as she takes it.

“Yeah it’s not like he needs it anyway, he’s all sunshine and rainbows.” Ana snort laughs and George smiles little.

Daniel rolls his eyes and sits down at the armchair next to him.

“Let’s see what’s in here,” The Australian opens the book and raises an eyebrow at the first photo.

“What? What is it?” Ana leans over and tries to take a look but Daniel pulls away, leaning to the other side of the chair.

“It’s you,” Daniel can’t help but start laughing uncontrollably as he flips the album to show George and Y/n.

The picture is of Anastasia as a toddler with a party hat on her head of strawberry blonde hair and frosting covering her hands and body.

Ana screeches reaching for the book but Daniel only keeps laughing as he keeps looking over the book.

The find pictures of George and Daniel in racing gear and with helmets too big for their heads. Y/n and Ana doing baby antics like putting their foot in their mouth or throwing food around with a toothless grin on their face.

“Uh, woah, what is this?” Daniel’s face scrunches together as he pulls the book closer to his face.

“What? What is it?” Anastasia leans over to read and her jaw drops the moment she sees the document in the album.

“What is it?” George and Y/n both tug their brows together and all four of their eyes widen when they like in the realization of the information of the paper in front of them.

“The two of you of married?”

————————————————————————

“Uh huh, yep, thank you.”

Anastasia sighs and places her phone on the table before she sits down.

“So? What is it? Are we married or not.” Y/n nudges at Anastasia’s elbow and bounces in her seat.

“Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n, you are the Mrs Russell.”

George and Y/n share a look and Daniel and Stassie can only open their mouths in wonder before closing them.

It was a mistake. They could barely remember stumbling into the church and having the drunkest smiles on their faces as they said yes.

The feelings and emotions were hidden for so long until finally their intrusive thoughts finally took over; at a church, in Las Vegas while they were both drunk.

“What’s the next step?” Daniel asks quietly.

“Uh, I think it’s time we talk it out.” George ushers both Daniel and Anastasia out the door.

The two both sigh once their friends leave and they are left alone.

George glances at Y/n’s form. She looks out at the window with her knees brought up to her chest. Her tattoo is visible through her lavender tank top.

“I love you, you know?” George kneels down in front of Y/n and takes her hands in his.

“I know and I love you too. But we both knew that eventually that is we were going to have to talk about it.” The y/h/c smiles sheepishly as her tries to avoid George’s eyes.

“I know, and we’ll figure it out. Because you’re my wife, ring or no ring.”

“Well, a ring wouldn’t be that bad.” Y/n mumbles and George laughs.

“Yeah, we’ll make it work.”

————————————————————————

five years later-

”Henry, please stop running again.”

“Mummy! Mummy, look! Daddy’s on TV.” The four year old happily grins as he points at the screen which is playing reruns of moments from the race.

“Yes, he is darling. Please sit down,” Y/n presses a kiss on her son’s head who happily obliges with his eyes glued on the TV.

Y/n sighs and runs a hand through Henry’s hair and watches as George’s post-race interview plays.

A light tug on the bottom on Y/n’s sweatpants makes her tear her attention away from watching her husband’s face on the TV screen.

The toddler wobbles in her place as she hold onto her mother’s leg for support. Y/n picks up her one year old and sets her right above her belly.

Henry turns around and faces his mother, his small hands resting on Y/n’s bump. Pippa immediately turns to face her brother who reaches up to peck his baby sister’s nose.

The toddler shrieks and giggles flapping her hands around. Y/n smiles at her children’s happiness that she can’t even notice that sound of the door opening.

Pippa leans against her mother’s chest and one of her hands press up against the heart on her mother’s chest. The toddler smiles and starts mumbling when she notices someone walk through into the living room.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy.” Pippa whimpers and mumbles into Y/n’s shoulder as she watches George smiles at her and places a finger on his lips.

“Sweetheart, Daddy’s not home yet.” Y/n rubs her daughter’s back and places a kiss on her head.

Pippa whines and Y/n rocks her side to side. Y/n stays like that with her daughter until she feels a pair of arms wrap around the crook between her belly and breasts.

“Woah, hi stranger.” Y/n raises an eyebrow at her husband who reaches out for his daughter with a small pout on his face.

“Daddy!” Henry runs fastest than Y/n has ever seen him run and clutches his father’s leg.

George grins while hugging both of his children and wife.

“I missed you,” He presses a kiss on Y/n’s head and a hand on her bump. “All four of you.”

“We missed you too,” Y/n rolls her eyes at her husband’s slight cheesiness. She pretends that she hates it but he knows that she loves it.

They’ve made it through everything, there is no way that they weren’t going to make everything work for the rest of forever.

#george russell #george russell x reader #george russell x y/n #george russel imagine #daniel ricciardo #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #original post #original writing

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screampied · 1 month

Note

Vegas x reader when?

‘ VEGAS BABY: I WANNA RIDE ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. you decide to visit las vegas! there, you meet up with a literal girl named vegas—she’s pretty, and walking around with a strap that’s a bit too long for her own good, oops!

wc. 10.6k

warnings. reader x vegas (THE GIRL NOT THE CITY), unprotected sex, she has a strap on, said strap on is like 36 inches and multicolored, thigh riding, spit, she has nipple piercings, overstim, brat!vegas, spanking, fucking on a slot machine

“. . . so,” vegas coos, leaning against the wall with a sly smile. you weren’t from here—las vegas, nevada. it was your twenty first birthday and since you were a simple tourist, why not visit your very first casino? the woman notice how you shift your weight, swiping a thumb against your empty shot glass. she fiddles with the sheeny silver hoops that dangle from her ears before humming. “are you a newcomer?”

“yeah, something like that,” you mumble, avoiding eye contact—she had such a gaze, a soft smile with freckles that bridge over her nose. “are you from here?” and then you look at her shirt near the very right, a tag that reads off the name of ‘VEGAS.’ “oh, uh vegas?”

she giggles. “no, that’s just a name. i’m actually from barbados.”

“you’re from barbados and your name is ve—”

“anyways!” she ahems, “come here,” and she lightly tugs on his hand. “i know a secret on how to win every machine here, heh.”

“v—vegas, nevadaaaaa, nghhhhh.”

“it’s vegas, not nevada baby.” she giggles, strumming a hand down your spine— she takes in your body as she’s bottoming out with her overly large strap. you’re so soaked, feeling her touch warm up every inch of your body. “oh, i don’t think i ever got your name.”

you pant, reaching down to touch yourself but she gingerly smacks your hand away.

“it’s um— (whatever your name is! i’d rather die that write the word Y/N i’m sorry man LMAOO)”

“ooh, cute,” she snickers before softly caressing the mounds of your ass. “oh my god, you know what would be cuter though?” she teases, suddenly pulling out. you pout— feeling yourself be not so full and she flips you over. you shrug, and she leans in to kiss your neck. “you said you wanted to top me earlier, huh? so how about you put me in my place.”

you gulp at her. “really? but—”

“hold that thought, i have to post a toji fic,” she cheeses— reaching for her phone, and you stare as she opens the site called tumblr. vegas laughs, “damn, thirty drafts that’ll probably never get posted. aw man.”

“v—vegas,” you whine, pawing at her to put her phone down.

she giggles. “oh! sorry baby, here, i’ll bend over. be extra rough too, i like the mean shit.”

part two?

#anons 💌#😞😞😞#vegas x reader #vegas x you #vegas smut #screampied smut lol what am i doingwith my life

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rimunagenius · 1 month

Text

(HC) Post Draft!Kate Martin

NSFW!!

You had no idea they were calling Kate’s name

you had hoped but when it happened you honestly couldn’t breathe

“With the 18th pick in the 2024 WNBA Draft, The Las Vegas Aces select, Kate Martin.” Tears.

Immediately had tears running down your face, hugging Kate.

Her grip on you tight but quick, her anxious to get through hugging everyone there supporting her, and to get up on the stage and accept the honor and reward that came with her hard work.

You recording her interview, crying with Jada, and Gabbie.

At the after party, taking pictures and celebrating, Kate was drunk on her happiness and high of being drafted, and the alcohol, that she wouldn’t stop touching you

holding your hand, rubbing her hand up and down your thigh, “i love you’s” leaving her mouth like a flowing river

it was like this for hours until you both decided to call it a night

you were so happy and equally as drunk, you sang her praises and welcomed the touch happily

“I’m so proud of you, baby” you whispered in her ear, unbelievably close to Kate

“Yeah? Wanna show me?” You placed you hand on her cheek, smiling.

Staring into her eyes

“I think i’m gonna call it a night, Kate?” You had to turned to Caitlin and your friends, and then asking Kate if she had been ready to go

“Yeah, i have interviews and pods tomorrow. Congrats Cait, i’m so proud of you, i love you guys.”

your goodbye along the same lines and the second you and Kate got into the uber it was game over

the poor uber driver watching two women make out like there was no tomorrow oh how i would’ve loved to be a fly on the wall :(

stumbling through the door of your hotel room, you and Kate had literally been eating eachothers faces that’s a gross description but trust…that’s what it looked like

“Oh, my god. You looked so hot holding that jersey, baby.” You whispered as you kissed down Kate’s neck, your thighs squeezing together at the thought

“m so proud of you.” you were already sliding her blazer off, kicking your shoes off and her doing the same

“yeah?” she sighed as she grabbed your face and kissed you, walking you back towards the bed

“mhm. my pretty girl.” you knew Kate had a thing for praise

lived for it. she wouldn’t admit it but god did she love when you told her how good she was doing and how pretty she looked doing it

her face turned a bright shade of red, igniting a hunger in her to please

and boy did she please

“your turn.” you flipped you guys over…you on top

Kate is def a bottom…changed my mind…you can’t! HA!

“I wasn’t don—“ You cut Kate off with a kiss

“What? You think my hot girlfriend is gonna be the only one giving the action? As much as I loved what you do with your hands, baby….you love what I do with my mouth..” You trailed kisses down her body, almost at your dream destination

“Oh, is that so?” She giggled, attempting to grab at your bare hips.

“Yeah it is. Want me to bring up last night when you cried?” your lips pressing soft kisses to her thighs

Her face turned pink, and her breath hitched. How could she forget the tears you brought to her face from the multiple orgasms?

You both were going at it all night. and i mean alllll nightttttt.

“Oh, my god. That was—“ You rolled into her side, your head resting on her chest.

“Yeah. It was.” Her arm pulling you closer.

“Holy shit. Is that daylight?” You looked across from you both, the blinds cracked.

“I think it is, sunshine.” Kate and you laughed but damn near cried at how you were going to get little to no sleep….damn her looking so hot while getting drafted

didn’t want to go too far into detail bc that’ll be spoiling a little part of my Kate Martin series ;)))

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