Brake Balance
Brake Balance
Charles Leclerc x mafiosa!Reader
Summary: something about the brake issues that Charles had to deal with in Bahrain just seems off … so you take matters into your own hands while your boyfriend is none the wiser
Warnings: depictions of violence and minor-character murder
You make your way through the paddock of the Bahrain International Circuit, weaving between team members and mechanics as they go about their pre-race routines. The energy in the air is electric, everyone buzzing with anticipation for the first race of the season later tonight.
You flash your paddock pass at security and head into the Ferrari garage, eyes scanning the organized chaos for the familiar mop of brown hair.
There he is, sitting in his red race suit that matches the iconic color of the Ferrari he drives, focused intently as his mechanics make some last minute adjustments. You walk up behind Charles and place your hands over his eyes.
“Guess who?” You say playfully.
Charles reaches up and removes your hands, a smile breaking across his face as he turns in his seat. “Ah, mon cœur! My favorite surprise.”
You lean down and kiss him softly. “How are things looking for today?”
“Good, good,” he nods. “The team had to change the left front brake duct exit deflector earlier, just as a precaution. But I’m feeling optimistic, the car has been solid all weekend. I think I might even be able to challenge Max for the win if everything goes to plan.”
His confidence makes you smile. Charles has been working so hard, both physically and mentally, to start this season strong. You know a win today would mean the world to him.
“I’ll be cheering the loudest when I see you on that top step today,” you say.
Charles grins. “We’ll see. Still have a race to get through first.”
You lean in to give him a quick kiss and head to the back of the garage so you’re out of the way. The mechanics are in full focus mode now, choreographing their dance around Charles’ car with practiced precision.
Charles goes through his usual pre-race routine — sips of water, reviewing data on the screens, and loosening up his muscles. He’s the picture of calm, but you know him well enough to see the coiled adrenaline thrumming just under the surface, ready to be unleashed once he settles into the cockpit.
The time comes to head out to the grid. Charles pauses before he puts his helmet on, meeting your gaze. You close the distance between you and cup his face in your hands, kissing his lips sweetly. Then you take the helmet from him and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips over the smooth surface where his would be.
“Be safe out there,” you say softly.
He nods, face disappearing behind the tinted visor, and climbs into the Ferrari. You watch as the car pulls away, weaving between other vehicles making their way to the starting grid. With a deep breath, you head deeper into the garage and take a seat next to Charles’ performance coach, Andrea. He hands you a headset so you can listen to Charles’ radio during the race.
“Let’s hope for a good one today,” Andrea says.
You nod, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fit the headset over your ears. On the monitors, you see Charles lining up on the grid in P2 after the formation lap, Max Verstappen’s Red Bull beside him on the front row in P1. The lights go out and the cars leap forward, engines roaring to life. Charles gets a good start, but Max keeps the lead through the first few turns.
The pack of cars higher up on the starting grid stays bunched up through the first few turns, but then you notice Charles starting to fall back little by little. His lap time slows as Max opens up a gap in front.
“The car doesn’t feel right, something with the front end,” Charles says. Your brow furrows in concern.
Only a lap later, George Russell in the Mercedes overtakes Charles on turn 4. Then Perez in the other Red Bull breezes past not long after.
“Come on Charles, stay focused,” you murmur under your breath. But things only seem to be getting worse. Carlos battles with Charles and eventually gets by, which frustrates you to no end. Charles fighting his own teammate for position is the last thing you want to see.
“Something felt very wrong with this set, the fronts were locking up like crazy,” Charles reports over the radio. Your heart sinks. Andrea shakes his head, equally perplexed.
The issues continue to persist. “What’s going on with my front left?” Charles asks, audible tension in his voice. “I just cannot get out of front locking. Everywhere ...”
Xavi, his race engineer, replies calmly, “We have temperature imbalance, higher front left.”
“How much is the imbalance?” Charles asks.
“Around 100 degrees.”
You grimace. That kind of discrepancy could make the car undriveable. Sure enough, Charles continues to struggle. It’s clear he’s fighting with the car now rather than racing the drivers around him.
“My car is fully going to the right when I am braking. With this I cannot fight, it’s dangerous,” Charles says, frustration seeping into his tone. You chew your lip anxiously. The rational part of you wishes Charles would just retire the car before he gets himself hurt trying to wrestle with it. But you also know that’s never been in Charles’ nature — he’ll keep fighting until the very last lap, no matter what.
Lap after lap, Charles battles to keep the car under control. “I think we can forget about driving now. It’s pulling everywhere,” he finally concedes. For a brief moment, you wonder if he’ll pull into the pits and call it a day. But no, your boyfriend is never one to simply give up. After the radio, through sheer force of will, Charles somehow overtakes George to reclaim P4. You can only imagine how hard he must be having to fight to keep the car in the track.
In the end, it’s a disappointing P4 for Charles while his teammate makes it on the podium in P3. As Carlos is lead to the cooldown room with Max and Checo, you watch Charles, frustration etched across his face as he tugs off his helmet and balaclava. He doesn’t even glance your way before the mechanics descend on him to start looking over the car.
Clearly the brake issues have cost him any chance at challenging for the win today. Most other drivers would have given up even trying to reclaim P4. But not your Charles. Never your Charles. Your heart aches for him.
Charles gets led away swiftly for the usual post-race weighing and interviews. You know from his body language that he’s utterly deflated by today’s results.
While the reporters pepper him with questions, you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts. Enough is enough — something is clearly not right with Charles’ car and you want answers.
Your finger hovers over the call button as you contemplate who to reach out to. The last thing you want is for Charles to have to fight against his own machine again. A solution needs to be found immediately, and you know just the person who can help.
With a determined nod, you press call and lift the phone to your ear, ready to get to the bottom of these brake issues once and for all.
***
The phone only rings once before a gruff voice answers. “Boss?”
“Hello, Gianluca,” you say. “I need you to do something for me.”
You go on to explain in detail the brake issues Charles faced during the race, how the problems started right after they replaced the left front brake duct exit deflector.
“I don’t think it was just bad luck,” you say. “Something seems off about the whole situation. I want you to look into it, see if anyone on Charles’ side of the garage could have tampered with his car.”
Gianluca is quiet for a moment. “Sabotage, you think?”
“Possibly. I just … I can’t shake this feeling that someone meant for this to happen to Charles’ car. He truly thought he could at least try to challenge Max for the win, then suddenly it’s like he’s driving an entirely different machine. Too much of a coincidence for my liking.”
“I’ll look into it boss, don’t you worry,” Gianluca says. “I’ll go through the team with a fine tooth comb, see if anything seems out of the ordinary. If someone did intentionally compromise Charles’ car, I’ll find out who and how.”
You let out a breath. “Thank you, Gianluca. Let me know as soon as you learn anything. Charles can’t afford issues like this again.”
“You got it. I’ll be in touch.”
The call ends and you lean back against the garage wall, gaze fixed unseeingly out across the pit lane. Your mind turns over the events of the race, Charles’ baffled frustration over the radio. He’s worked too hard for too long to have valuable points stolen away by something like this. If there is sabotage afoot within the team, you’ll get to the bottom of it.
A few days later you’re back in your study after flying home from Bahrain. A knock at the door interrupts your work and you call for them to enter. Gianluca steps in, an uncharacteristically grim look on his face.
“Boss,” he greets you. Wordlessly, he steps forward and places a thick manila folder on your desk. You flip it open, eyes scanning over photos, documents, even what looks like stills of CCTV footage. Gianluca remains silent, allowing you to take it all in.
“I went over every inch of security camera video from the Bahrain paddock and garage,” Gianluca finally says. “And I found something.”
He leans over your desk and flips to a page in the folder, tapping a finger on a freeze frame showing one of Charles’ mechanics.
“This is Tomaso, one of the brake technicians,” Gianluca explains. “I noticed him acting strange all race day. Fidgety. Nervous. He was trying to hide it but his body language gave it away.”
Your eyes narrow as you study the photo. There is a shifty, almost guilty look about the man as he glances over his shoulder.
“I watched him like a hawk after that,” Gianluca continues. “When the team went to change the brake duct exit deflector, that’s when I saw it happen.”
He flips to another page, this one showing screen captures of CCTV footage in the Ferrari garage a few hours before the race start. You can make out Tomaso slipping the replacement deflector into his pocket before taking out another piece and installing it in Charles’ car. Your blood turns cold.
“He tampered with the part,” Gianluca confirms grimly. “There’s no doubt in my mind he switched that deflector with a compromised one. Sabotage, just like you suspected.”
You sit back, shaking your head in disgusted disbelief. “Why? Why would he do this?”
Gianluca shrugs. “Hard to say for sure. Could be someone paid him off, wants to see Charles fail. But what I know for certain is that he meant to damage Charles’ car.”
You drum your fingers on your desk, thinking hard. This level of betrayal from someone Charles trusts, it’s unthinkable. An affront you won’t let stand.
“You’ve done excellent work, Gianluca,” you finally say, meeting his gaze. “Thank you for getting to the bottom of this. I’ll handle it from here.”
Gianluca nods. “Of course, boss. Let me know if you need anything else.”
He turns and leaves your study, closing the door quietly behind him. You lean back in your chair, fingers steepled under your chin. Your expression is stone, but internally your thoughts roil with anger. Tomaso will pay for this, you’ll see to that.
Charles has enough challenges to face without sabotage from his own team. Your resolve hardens — you won’t stop until justice is served and he can race with full confidence again. The treachery ends now.
***
After Gianluca leaves, your mind turns over what to do about Tomaso. The team flew straight from Bahrain to Saudi Arabia to prepare for the next race, so he’s out of your reach for now. Still, you won’t let him slip away that easily. You pick up your phone and call a trusted associate, instructing him to organize a surveillance team to keep constant eyes on Tomaso until you arrive in Jeddah yourself.
The days crawl by painfully slow as you wait to confront the saboteur. You resist the urge to call Fred Vasseur and have Tomaso removed from the team immediately — better to handle this yourself. Finally, it’s time to fly out for the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. Upon landing, your associate meets you at the airport.
“We have eyes on the target,” he reports. “He’s currently at the hotel bar, quite intoxicated.”
You nod curtly. “Good. Let’s pay him a visit.”
You’re led to the hotel and pointed towards the bar. Sure enough, there’s Tomaso, stumbling drunkenly out the door into the night. Now is your chance. You follow him down the street, waiting until he turns into a shadowy alley to make your move. In a flash you have him by the collar, shoving him against the brick wall.
“What the hell, let me go!” Tomaso slurs, trying to shove you off. But drinking has made him clumsy and weak.
“I don’t think so, Tomaso,” you reply coldly. “We need to have a little chat.”
His eyes widen in fear and confusion. You press on before he can respond.
“Let’s see, Tomaso Barbieri, born May 5th, 1992 in Turin. Moved to Maranello in 2021 to begin work as a mechanic with Scuderia Ferrari. Parents Lucia and Giacomo Barbieri, both schoolteachers. Sister Cecilia studying abroad in London.”
As you rattle off details about his personal life, Tomaso’s eyes grow wider and wider.
“What the hell, how do you know all that?” He stammers. “Who are you? Does Charles know the ugly truth about his girlfriend?”
You fix him with an icy stare. “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that I know exactly who you are, Tomaso. A mechanic for Ferrari … and apparently a master of espionage and sabotage in your spare time.”
Tomaso’s eyes dart wildly, still trying to make sense of the situation in his inebriated state. He attempts an unconvincing laugh.
“What are you talking about man? Sabotage? I think you’ve had too much to drink ...”
Your response is to slam him hard against the wall, causing him to grunt in pain. You lean in close, anger simmering in your eyes.
“Let’s cut the bullshit, Tomaso. I know what you did in Bahrain, switching out the brake duct deflector to sabotage Charles’ car. Did you think you could get away with it? That there wouldn’t be consequences?”
Up close, you can see the color drain from his face, eyes wide with fear. He tries to retain some composure.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeats weakly. “I would never sabotage Charles’ car, I want him to win ...”
You slam him against the wall again, cutting off his lies.
“I said, enough bullshit!” you snarl. “We have you on video. We saw everything. We know you pocketed the real deflector and installed a defective one instead.”
He is trembling now, any hint of drunkenness replaced by sobering fear.
“Please,” he whimpers pathetically. “I’ll do anything, just please let me go. I made a mistake ...”
You shake your head in disgust. “A mistake? You betrayed Charles’ trust and tried to ruin his race out of what? Jealousy? Greed?”
Tomaso says nothing, eyes downcast in shame. You take a breath and continue in a low, menacing tone.
“Here are your options. One: you go directly to Vasseur first thing in the morning and resign from Ferrari immediately. You will leave the team and ensure you are never so much as in the same country as Charles again. Two: I deal with you myself, in a much less pleasant manner. The choice is yours, Tomaso. What’s it going to be?”
He meets your steely gaze again, jaw clenched. “I can’t just quit,” he says hoarsely. “My job is my life. You might as well just kill me.”
You purse your lips and shake your head. “I was afraid you’d say that. Very well.”
In one swift motion you draw your gun from its concealed holster and press the barrel firmly under Tomaso’s chin. He recoils in terror, plastered back against the wall.
“Last chance,” you say calmly. “Walk away from Ferrari and never look back, or your days end tonight in this alley.”
Sweat drips down his brow as the gun digs harder into his throat. His eyes are saucers of fear, flitting between your steely gaze and the weapon poised to end his life.
“Well?” You ask after a long silence. “What’s it going to be?”
Tomaso swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing against the gun barrel. When he speaks, his voice is a terrified croak.
“I … I won’t quit. I can’t.” He closes his eyes in resignation, awaiting his fate.
You click your tongue in disappointment. “That’s unfortunate. I wish it hadn’t come to this.”
Your finger tightens almost imperceptibly on the trigger …
“Wait, wait!” Tomaso cries out, hands raised in desperation. “I’ll do it, I’ll quit! Just please, don’t hurt me!”
You pause, gun still aimed steadily at his throat. “And why should I believe you now?”
He swallows hard, eyes brimming with tears. “I swear, I’ll resign first thing tomorrow. You’ll never see me near the team again. Just let me go, I’m begging you!”
You consider him coldly for a moment before lowering the gun. Tomaso sags back against the wall in relief. But you’re not done with him yet.
“Who paid you?” You demand. “Who put you up to sabotaging Charles’ car?”
The blood drains from his face again. “I can’t tell you that. They’ll kill me, and my family ...”
In a flash the gun is back at his throat, your grip like iron on his shirt collar.
“I assure you, I can do much worse than they ever could,” you say menacingly. “Now give me a name, or you can say goodbye.”
Tomaso shakes uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face. You can see the internal struggle, debating which is the lesser evil — defying you or those he conspired with. Finally, he slumps in defeat and leans in close, voice barely a whisper.
“It was ...”
He utters a name directly into your ear. Your eyes widen briefly in surprise before narrowing again. You release Tomaso and take a step back, processing this new information.
“I see,” you say slowly. You nod over your shoulder and two of your associates emerge from the shadows.
“Get him out of my sight,” you order. They grab Tomaso roughly by the arms. He sags between them, the fight gone out of him completely. You fix him with an icy stare.
“My men will escort you to the airport,” you inform him. “You will be on the first flight out of this hemisphere. And you are never to go near Ferrari or Charles again — don’t even think about trying to contact the team to explain yourself. As far as they will be concerned, you simply resigned. Am I clear?”
Tomaso nods wordlessly, defeated. The men begin dragging him away towards a waiting black SUV.
“Oh, and Tomaso?” You call after him. He glances back warily. “If I ever see or hear of you so much as setting foot in a paddock again, you won’t get a second chance. You’ll simply disappear. Permanently.”
The color drains from his face one final time. Then he is shoved into the back of the SUV, the door slamming shut behind him. You watch impassively as the vehicle drives off into the night, carrying the saboteur away for good.
Or so he thinks.
Unbeknownst to Tomaso, you have contacts everywhere, including at his destination. The second he steps off the plane, thinking he’s escaped your wrath, your local associates will be waiting. And his life will be ended swiftly and permanently, as promised. You don't make idle threats after all.
Betrayal of this magnitude must be punished, no matter how far Tomaso runs. The message will be clear — cross you, and nowhere on Earth will be safe. You've given the order, and your associates are nothing if not ruthlessly efficient. By the time the sun rises, there will be one less threat to Charles’ success. The sabotage ends here and now. You'll see to that personally, no matter the cost.
For a moment you simply stand alone in the dark alley, processing everything. This is bigger than you initially realized. Tomaso was clearly just a pawn, the sabotage orchestrated by someone higher up the chain — someone with enough power and influence to scare a man into risking his career and life.
Your jaw clenches as you think about Charles being targeted like this, not only being robbed of a deserved finish but also put in danger as collateral. Well, it ends now. The shadowy orchestrator thinks they can get away with playing games in the dark? They’re about to realize just how big of a mistake they’ve made.
Now that you have a name, you can start unraveling the web, tracing every thread back to find where it leads. And when you do find the spider at the center? You’ll make sure they can never endanger Charles again. For good.
Satisfied with this plan, you straighten your dress and exit the alley onto the brighter streets. Time to put your considerable resources to work. Phone records, financials, travel records — you’ll dig through it all, leave no stone unturned.
And you have a feeling the name Tomaso gave you is only the first thread. This goes deeper. But it doesn’t matter. You’ve dealt with far more dangerous criminal elements before. These shadow games don’t scare you. You’ll keep following the threads until you reach the source, uprooting the entire enterprise in the process.
By the time you reach your car, your phone is already buzzing with incoming calls and updates from your associates. They know the drill by now — when you give the word, they mobilize into action immediately, utilizing the full extent of your influence and power.
For you, they’ll tap every resource, call in every favor owed. Because you protect what’s yours at all costs. And Charles? He’s under your protection now, whether he knows it or not. So for his sake, you’re going to find the ones trying to undermine him, and you’re going to tear out the threat root and stem. Permanently.
Let them keep playing their games for now, oblivious to the axe hanging over their heads. They’ll find out soon enough that nobody crosses you and gets away with it. And when that time comes, no mercy will be shown. No loose ends left to unravel.
Time to remind them exactly why your reputation precedes you in certain circles, why your name is uttered only in hushed whispers. They’ll regret the day they dared threaten someone you care about. You’ll see to that personally.
With your jaw set in determination, you climb into the idling car. Time to go hunting.
***
Two days after dealing with Tomaso, you make your way through the Jeddah Corniche Circuit paddock towards the Ferrari motorhome.
Your stiletto heels click along the pavement and you glance down, frowning slightly at the flecks of blood still staining the pointed toes of your red soles. Such a shame about these Louboutins, you really love this pair. But a bit of blood is a small price to pay for protecting Charles, especially after personally dealing with the orchestrator who had been paying Tomaso off.
You had tracked them down and made sure they could never threaten Charles’ success again. Subtly, you crouch down and wipe at the stains, managing to remove the worst of it.
Satisfied, you straighten and continue on your way. The familiar bright red motorhome comes into view and you sweep inside, immediately spotting Charles standing with some team members. His face lights up when he sees you, excusing himself to rush over.
“Mon amour, you made it!” He exclaims, enveloping you in a tight hug. You melt against him, breathing in his familiar scent.
“Of course, I wouldn’t miss seeing you race for anything,” you reply, pecking his lips sweetly.
Charles takes your hand, leading you to a quiet corner where you can talk. “I missed you so much while you were away,” he says. “But I’m so glad you’re here now.”
You smile and stroke his cheek. “Me too, darling. But I’m here now and I’ll be cheering the loudest for you all race.”
Charles’ grin falters a bit. “It’s been a strange few days actually. Tomaso, one of my mechanics, just up and quit in the middle of the week. No explanation or anything.”
You school your features into a look of surprise. “Really? That’s so odd.”
Charles nods. “Very weird timing to just resign like that. But maybe it’s for the best if his heart wasn’t fully in it anymore.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” you agree. “The team is better off without any negativity.”
Before Charles can reply, Andrea enters the motorhome. “Charles, time for some quick physio before the race.”
Charles sighs but nods, giving you a swift kiss before following Andrea out. You watch him go fondly before making your way trackside to the Ferrari garage. The mechanics are in race mode, voices terse and movements precise as they make final adjustments on Charles’ car.
You stay back, letting them work, thoughts drifting back to everything you did to get to this point. A small price to pay to ensure Charles can race with a fair chance again.
Finally it’s time for Charles to get in the car. You approach as he’s putting on his helmet and balaclava, stealing a tender kiss that he returns happily. Then you lift the helmet and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips softly over the smooth surface where his lips would be. Your ritual.
“Be safe out there,” you murmur. Charles squeezes your hand, then lowers himself into the cockpit. You watch tensely as the car pulls away, the lights of the circuit glittering against the dark night sky.
In the garage you pace anxiously throughout the race, listening to the radio chatter. Again Charles qualified P2, behind Max Verstappen’s Red Bull. But this time, you have no sabotage to worry about. The Ferrari proves fast and consistent all race, not quite keeping pace with the Red Bull but allowing Charles to maintain P2 smoothly.
The SF-24 doesn’t have the speed to challenge Max, but there’s no issues, no sudden grip loss or components failing. Your shoulders finally uncoil with relief as Charles crosses the line to take P2, securing a podium finish.
The garage explodes into cheers and applause as Charles pulls into parc fermé. He’s beaming as he climbs from the car, pulling off his gloves and balaclava. You run over to the barriers and throw your arms around him ecstatically as soon as he nears.
“I’m so proud of you!” You exclaim. Charles hugs you back tightly.
“Thank you, mon cœur,” he says warmly. “It felt good to finally have a clean race again.”
You just smile knowingly, heart bursting with joy at seeing Charles on the podium where he belongs. During the celebrations, he keeps meeting your gaze in the crowd, smiling and pointing down to you in the crowd of red. As he sprays champagne with Max and Checo, he looks utterly elated and at peace. No frustration or disappointment, just the satisfaction of a hard fought race with the result he deserved.
Afterwards, in the privacy of Charles’ room, he takes you into his arms again. “I don’t know what changed or why, but the car just felt right this weekend,” he says. “It makes me so optimistic for the rest of the season.”
You stroke his face gently. “You deserve it. All your hard work is paying off.” Inside, you allow yourself a small, satisfied smile. Charles doesn’t need to know just how much work went on behind the scenes to get here. He only needs to focus on driving his heart out, and securing the championships you know he’s destined for. The rest is simply details.
“Thank you again for being here,” Charles murmurs, pulling you close. “Having your support means everything to me.”
You rest your head on his shoulder contentedly. “Always, my love. I’ll be right by your side.” And you mean that with every fiber of your being. No matter what happens going forward, whoever tries to interfere or stand in Charles’ way, they’ll have to go through you first.
You won’t let anyone toy with Charles’ performance and safety again. The lesson has been sent — Charles is untouchable now. Dare to threaten the success that is his, and you’ll come for what’s theirs.
But Charles doesn’t need to carry that burden. He just needs to keep his head held high and drive his heart out. You’ll handle the rest. It’s the least you can do for the man you love more than life itself.
So as Charles holds you close, you silently promise to always shield him from the ugly underbelly that lurks beneath the glitz and glamour of Formula 1.
He gives so much of himself already in pursuit of greatness. Let others vie for power and influence through dirty tricks and mind games. That’s not Charles’ way, which is why you’ll ensure he remains untainted. For him, you’d walk through fire without a second thought.
So really, what’s a little blood on your Louboutins in the grand scheme of things? A man like Charles Leclerc deserves that and so much more. And you’re going to give it to him, no matter the cost.
Let them keep playing their games in the shadows. Little do they know, you’ve already checkmated them all.
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Author’s Note: Three new fics in one day? Who is she? Someone who’s super excited about having her weeklong shadowban finally lifted, that’s who!
This one is based on this Anon request. Hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Stressful day, overwhelmed reader, slight insecurities, brief mention of breastfeeding, an obscene amount of fluff.
Today had been a day.
To start it all off, your alarm hadn’t gone off. You had woken up earlier in the morning to make breakfast for Rooster before he left for work, but you had been certain you’d double checked the alarm on your phone before going back to sleep. When you’d opened your eyes, however, surprised at how much sunlight was streaming through the window, you’d realized with a frantic yelp that you had overslept.
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a distinguished gentleman - t.w.
pairing: fem!reader x toto wolff
warnings: allusions to smut, mentions of oral (m! receiving), mentions of fingering (f! receiving), some cursing, lemme know if there's anything i missed, yadayadayada
a/n: this isn't necessarily a cohesive fic, more like a spitballing of the thots i have related to this topic. i hope y'all enjoy them hehehe <3 thank you to @chaerylecq for the inspo!!!
when it comes to driving, toto is the one who always offers.
after all, you are his passenger princess.
i feel like he wants you to be comfortable as possible in his car, so he always has a little makeup bag or cosmetics bag with deodorant, makeup remover, makeup wipes, perfume, etc., for you in case you ever need to touch up. he also has a plethora of hair accessories for you to use in case you ever need one. all you have to do is just reach in the glovebox, or he keeps the pouch in the center console for your convenience.
when he starts to drive, his hand is either resting comfortably on your thigh, or his fingers are intertwined with yours. for longer drives, he always offers for you to lay your legs on top of his. (even if it not necessarily the safest route)
his windows are tinted (duh) so there are numerous times in which his fingers are plunging into you, curling as they pump in and out. for clean up, he'll usually just have you suck on his fingers, groaning and cursing under his breath as your tongue laps at the juices.
if he can't wait until you make it home, he'll have your head bobbing, one hand clutching the wheel while the other is palming the back of your skull, applying pressure so that you'll go deeper and deeper. he prefers to keep the radio off, so the filthy, obscene noises will flood the intimate space. his desire to fuck you only soars by the second, his tip pressing deeper and deeper down your throat.
if he's desperate enough, he'll nearly swerve off to the nearest exit, pulling off in an enclave or parking lot. with his large stature, he typically has you ride him in the driver's seat, savoring the way your figure molds with his perfectly as the windows fog.
other times, he just wants to hear your voice, engaging you in deep conversation. there are a variety of topics, each with their own nuance and question he'll begin with. there's nothing more that he cherishes than drives with you, because he gets to build more and more emotional intimacy. getting to know you is one of his favorite things to do, so of course he's going to seize the opportunity.
he is the type of person to request kisses at stoplights, even if they are brief. there was one time he took you cruising along the brackley campus, purposefully stopping for as long as possible at the lights or signs, just so that he can get a smooch.
of course, you don't mind. you love him. oh so dearly. of course you're going to kiss him whenever the opportunity is presented.
also, you are the one who has the aux most of the time, your phone paired to the bluetooth the second you're in that passenger seat. he enjoys your taste in music, finding a new favorite song or two each time. sometimes he'll ask you to add the song to his personal playlist, not shy in the fact that he gets a lot of his new music from his girl.
whether it's cruises at night, enjoying the skylines of whichever city you're in, or countryside tours, you just love being in that passenger seat. there are times in which you tease that he needs to get that section of the dash engraved, customized with your name.
little do you know, he has that in the works.
not just for that car, but for every vehicle in his fleet.
How'd Pascale react when she sees Checo and her daughter sleeping on the couch and then next morning getting told everything?
Pascale would be giggling and shit /j
Since the day before Mama Leclerc was out of the house, maybe went out with friends or something that kept her out for the whole day. So when she came home and went to the living room to be greeted by you and Checo cuddling on the couch, she let out the biggest smile. She was right about your boyfriend being a driver, though she had a few guesses who, she never thought it would be the Mexican Racing Point driver.
But before she did anything, she went to her room and freshened up. After that, she went down preparing breakfast for the six of them. The first to wake up from her kids is Lorenzo. The moment he walked in the kitchen, he greeted his mother, kissing her cheeks before getting water from the refrigerator.
Maman trying to hold back her smile, asked Lorenzo what you and Checo were doing that had you both ending up on the couch cuddling. As Lorenzo was about to answer, he was interrupted by a cheerful Arthur who was followed by a sleepyhead Charles letting out a yawn. The younger boys greeted their mother, kissing her cheek like Lorenzo did.
Once they all settled down, Lorenzo started talking about everything that took place yesterday the moment your boyfriend dropped by unannounced. Maman smiled widely when she listens to his eldest speak protectively about his only sister, it made her feel like she did something right. As Lorenzo continued telling everything that happened, Arthur and Charles would often interrupt, adding information from what their older brother is saying.
When they finished, Maman thanked her sons for being there to their sister, always having her back. Then Pascale asked her kids to help her set the table as she finished cooking their breakfast. Washing her hands after placing the food on the table, she went to the living room and sat on the single-seater couch where Checo sat yesterday when he was being interrogated by your brothers.
She smiled to herself, thinking how much you and Checo reminded her of herself and Papa Leclerc when they were dating. She watched as you snuggled closer to your significant other while Checo just wrapped his arm around your shoulder. She let out a soft chuckle as she saw the domestic actions unfold.
Lorenzo called upon their mum that the table was set and they can eat, but the eldest said it too loud that it startled you.
Falling asleep on the couch last night, you had not expected to wake up with your mother sitting across you, a wide grin plastered on her face. Your sudden movement stirred your boyfriend from his sleep. Looking at him, you saw him scrunching his eyebrows as his eyes adjusted to the bright light before his expression turned into confusion. He stared at your mother before rubbing his eyes, thinking he might be hallucinating. But when he saw that she was still there, he swiftly moved away from you, scared at the thought of Maman scolding him or worse, you.
When Pascale saw what happened, she let out a light chuckle before sighing and standing up. She went pass Checo’s side of the couch, patting his shoulders and whispered that it was okay, before she spoke this time to the both of you that breakfast was ready.
Checo scrambled from the couch, his cheeks flushed as he gets flustered from the thought that both of you were caught by your mother cuddling in the living room. You watched him internally panic as you stood up from your place, kissing his cheek and taking a hold of his hand before letting out a small smile and assuring him that your mum meant no harm.
Pascale called out for both of you again when you didn’t go to the dining room and this time you drag Checo to the room and guiding him to sit on the chair beside you.
While breakfast was ongoing, Checo was on the hotseat again, but this time getting interrogated by your mother. As your mother inquires your significant other different questions, you can see him squirm nervously on his chair and so you placed your hand on his thigh and patted it assuringly that he won’t answer anything wrong.
After breakfast and Maman seemingly satisfied with your boyfriend’s answer, she went to his side and pulled him up from his chair as she gave Sergio a hug and a kiss on the cheek, welcoming him into the family and even referring to him as her future son-in-law. You let out a huge sigh of relief as Checo passed your family’s test.
But little did you know after the kiss on the cheek, Maman threatened Checo quietly that if he ever decided to hurt her daughter, he should be prepared for the consequence. And he gulped hard like something was dislodged in his throat before nodding slowly.
His Girl
Part 2
Summary: Lando loves his rich, girl boss, girl. Though he doesn't really know what she really does underneath. Until he does.
or
In which Lando finds out his girlfriend is not who she said she was.
Side note: I'm using names for reader, and spelling and grammar errors. This is fake, nothing is real. So don't send shit massages to me.
Warnings: Blood. Dead body. Guns.
Part One
Masterlist
2022
It had been two years since Bonnie and Lando met and started dating. In those two years, they had been so in love. Never felling like this with anyone else. Lando's family was so happy for them both seeing their love.
Lando had never questioned where she got her money as Bonnie had told him that her father was wealthy and left her with everything and the company.
He did question her about the bodyguards following her all the time, But Bonnie had just said that it had been like that since she was born as he father was a wealthy man.
He was in aww when he had first saw her two-story London home. It was set on an acreage and was huge. He had jockeying asked if she was in the mafia, what he didn't see was the color to drain from her face and her guards throw each other looks.
The first time Lando had ever been almost close to figuring it out was by accident. Something Bonnie had made saw never happened again. Because if she was ever going to protect anything in the world it would be Lando and their relationship.
It was an early morning in London. The sun not even rising yet. Lando had been staying with Bonnie for a bit in her home as they talked about buying an apartment or house together last night.
Bonnie was relucent, but she agreed it was the next step in their relationship. But she would be keeping her estate in London for business and travel.
Lando was so ecstatic for their move together. And they had celebrating, by having sex. Never a dull moment with Lando.
Bonnie woke as someone entermeted her room and shook her lightly. Lando's arm was around her waist and the other was under her head.
"Miss. Salvatore." A light voice whispered to her. Bonnie new that voice and the only person to ever wake her up would be her maid.
"Mary?" Bonnie asked confused as she sat up quickly, not to disturb Lando.
Her maid's face greeted her. "Someone's here to see you." She spoke her voice shaking lightly.
"Who? At this time?" She whispered to her maid as she carefully got out of bed and grabbed her robe from the floor. Lando rolled over to the other side quickly falling asleep.
"Mr. Lopez is here." Mary whispered terrified.
Bonnie froze from getting her slippers on and looked at Mary wide eye. Mr. Lopez was a rival mafia gang that had always had it out for her father and his operation. While her father dealed guns and money, Mr. Lopez dealed drugs. Something her father stayed away from.
"Get the men and stay here in case Lando wakes up." Bonnie order her maid as she bent down and lifted the rug from under bed and pulled her daggers from out of the floorboards.
Bonnie walked down the hall with her guards all around her. When she got to the grand staircase, she saw her other maids and she guested he was in the parlor room.
"Making yourself at home." Bonnie called as she walked in the room and saw him sitting on one of the black couches.
Mr. Lopez chuckled. "Why how are this fine morning, Bonnie." He smiled at her. But in a cruel way.
"It's Miss Salvatore to you." She snaped and crossed her arms and took a seat in front of him. Mr.' Lopez's back was facing the back where Bonnie's guards were. Ready to kill if needed. "What do you want that couldn't wait till the sunrise was up?" She asked annoyed.
A maid walked in the room with tea for Bonnie. She thanked her and faced the man. He raised his eyebrows. "No offerings for your guest?" He asked leaning back in the leather couch.
Bonnie shot him an annoyed look. "No." She bluntly told him as she added her sugar cubes to her tea. "Now get to it." She ordered.
"Your father dealed in guns and money but now that he's gone, don't think it's time you expanded." Mr. Lopex started as Bonnie listened closely.
"What are you proposing?"
"Drugs." He simply said. "You would be making more money than you do now." He smiled thinking money would get her to agree.
"No." She simply spoke as she crossed her legs.
Mr. Lopez frowned. "You didn't even think about it."
Bonnie shook her head. "I have. My father didn't like drugs and I don't like drugs." She told him. "If that's all you wanted to talk about, you can go now." She told him and leaned back in her seat with her cup of tea.
Mr. Lopez frowned at her and then smirked, "You don't want me to hurt Mr. Norris up in your bedroom, do you?" He taunted her.
Bonnie tensed. The maids and guards that were in the room tensed as well. They had seen firsthand how much Bonnie loved Lando. They knew what she would do to keep him safe.
"Are you threating me?" Bonnie asked as she put her tea down and narrowed her eyes at him.
"No, I'm threating your boyfriend." He smirked. "I want you to do drugs and split all your proferts with me."
"Or what?"
"Mr. Norris gets a rude awaking." Mr. Lopez smirked thinking he won. He leaned back in his seat as he watches Bonnie's face go from fear to blank.
"Do you know what my father always taught me, Mr. Lopez?" She asked as she stood up from her seat and out of the way. She moved to the fireplace martlet where photos of her and her father were sat.
"What?" He asked confused.
Bonnie smiled at a photo of her and her father. It was her sixth birthday. She turned to Mr. Lopez and smirked as her loyal guard got his silencer gun out of his jacked.
"He told me that you never enter a house without protection or backup. And you especially never threaten their family. And you Josphe Hunt Lopez have just made that mistake." She smirked and watched as he quickly shot up and turn around and a bullet was lodge in his head.
He fell back and dropped on her marble floors. Blood quickly falling out near his head. Bonnie looked at his dead body. "Never threaten someone's loved ones."
The maids quickly got to cleaning just as Marry come around the corner with a look in her eyes.
"Love?" Lando called. bonnie eyes widened and she skipped out of the parlor door and closed them behind her as Lando came down the staircase. His eyes lit up when he saw her. "There you are." He smiled.
Bonnie hugged him back when he hugged her. His head rested in her neck as he hummed. "What are you doing up?" She asked him and ran her hand through his hair.
"What are you doing up." He shot back teasingly. She shot him a grin and shook her head with a laugh.
"Business call." She answered with a smile. Trying to not sound nervous. Lando just hummed and Bonnie took him by the hand and started walking up the stairs. "Why don't we get back bed and try to get more sleep?" She suggested.
Lando hummed with a smile. "Yeah. I just saw you weren't up and wondered where you were." He spoke and shot her a small smile one she sent back.
"Sorry. Duty calls." She laughed lightly. When Lando's back was turned she shot a look at a maid, and she nodded before walking back into the parlor, to help clean the mess up.
Bonnie and Lando both walked back to their room as the maids and bodyguards cleaned up Mr. Lopez. It was something Bonnie didn't want to ever happen again in her home.
Maybe moving was good. Many people from her world didn't know where she lived but the rest that new where people that she trusted now. Her and her people getting rid of the people she didn't trust.
She wouldn't let anything happen to Lando. She wouldn't forgive herself.
Bonnie smiled at Lando as they both got back under the covers. Lando resting his head on her chest. "I love you." Lando told Bonnie as he was falling asleep by Bonnie's fingers running threw his hair.
Bonnie smiled and kissed the top of his head. "I love you, Lan." She whispered back. She felt Lando place a soft kiss on her chest and Bonnie listened to his breathing as he put back to sleep.
Bonnie would do anything for him. he was the best thing that ever happen to her. She hadn't loved much in her short life. But now that she had felt it, looked at it. She was never letting it go or letting anyone destroy what she had found.
Her parents were the only love she had ever seen growing up. Her father had loved her mother so much and it killed him when she died but he didn't turn out horrible like most dads, no he loved her so much. Did everything he could for her.
Her father always said that he didn't regret loving her mother, because he got to know what love was. And he wouldn't change that for that world. She wanted that. A love that will hurt you when it's over. Because then you know it was real.
"I would do anything for you." She whispered down to Lando who was asleep. She placed a light kiss to his cheek. "Nothing is ever going to happen to you on my watch. I'll make sure of it." She promises herself and asleep Lando.
Making promise you can't keep was always going to end badly. There was no dyeing that.
Part 1
Masterlist
Hope you liked it. Hopefully the next part won't be long.
Toto Wolff with wife reader. Doing a hot lap and him being concerned about her driving because usually he's the one who drives. Fluff and fun. Maybe suggestive 🫣 Thanks!! :))
WHY DO YOU THINK IT TOOK ME SO LONG?// TW \\ one-shot
pairing: Toto Wolff x wife!reader
description: Someone else sits behind the ˝Hot Lap˝ wheel...
word count: 464 words
warnings: none, a smidge suggestive, toto doesn't trust your driving abilities
Usually, it's an F1 driver that drives a Hot Lap. Yet, here you were, getting into the driver's seat of a Mercedes AMG-GT for the first time. Your husband, Toto, already sat in the passenger seat, laughing at you.
You hated driving. It was the most annoying part of your day. No, you didn't hate the act itself. You hated the slowness and shitty people on the road. So when Lewis and George practically forced you to do a Hot Lap, you weren't expecting you'd be driving the Supercar.
˝You alright, schatzi?˝ Toto asked as you buckled your seatbelt. ˝ I know you hate driving...¨ He continued. The statement made you giggle.
˝I hate the slowness of everyday driving... But this...˝ You say with a smirk, pushing your foot down on the pedal. The car revs and Toto's eyes widened. ˝... is more my style.˝
The car lunged forward, your hands controlling the steering wheel. Toto gripped anything he could, looking over at you.
˝What do you mean by this is your style?˝ His eyes widened. ˝Watch the turns, love!˝
˝Don't worry, I got my eyes on the road!˝ You giggle, expertly avoiding hitting a wall. ˝I wanted to be an F1 driver, ya know?˝ He looks over again, smiling at you.
˝Ja? I can see that... Maybe I should put in next season...˝ He laughs, making you smile.
˝I'll win you the championship, love!˝ You laugh, making another turn, making Toto lean towards you. He laughs and sits up properly in the seat.
˝I'm looking forward to it!... Watch out!˝ He screams, making you turn suddenly. You grunted.
˝Stop yelling! I know what I'm doing!˝ You purposefully swerve the car, making Toto panic and grab anything he could. You laugh and he huffs. ˝How about... I try to donut˝
˝ABSOLUTELY NOT!˝ Toto screams as you already start turning the steering wheel.
˝Too late!˝ You giggle, turning the car in circles. Toto begins to hyperventilate and you laugh at him again. Slowly, you bring the car on a straight trajectory.
˝You are an idiot! We could have crashed!˝ He screamed as the car came to a stop.
˝But we didn't...˝ You step out, taking the helmet off your head. He follows you, rounding the car to get to your side.
˝This only solidified the fact I'll be driving from now on. I'm not getting in the car if you're driving!˝ He said, making you laugh.
˝But you'll let me ride?˝ You say with a smirk, wiggling your brows. He rolls his eyes and walks faster. ˝Hey!˝ You run to catch up with him.
After a few secounds of silence, you decide to speak.
˝Can I ask you something, love?˝ You ask and he hums. ˝Why do you think I failed my driving test so many times?˝ You ask with a smirk, making Toto turn to you with wide eyes.
˝That's it! I'm not letting you drive anymore!˝
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hiiii i loveee your fics pls do more 🫶🏾
lando request where his love language is physical touch but y/n likes her space and ye i trust you to make up the rest!
i love u🩶
✮ To Feel - Lando Norris
lando norris x fem!reader
sy: after a long day of work, lando longs to console you with his physical affection.
a/n: completing a request has gotta be on the top5 most rewarding feelings ever. & i have 2 max and 1 carlos fics that im working on cause rn ive only being getting the lando reqs out the way🙈
warnings: nothinggg just fluff.
lando had to be one of the most clingiest guys to ever walk the earth. literally.
it was a daily, better yet hourly, struggle for him to have completely opposite love languages to you. he needed the closeness, the warmth and energy he would gain from touching you, holding you. unlike you, who needed your space and was definitely the furthest from being a touchy person.
it was a particular afternoon in Monaco, where you heard your boyfriend streaming in your shared game room, after you had completed a long and tormenting 9-hour shift.
you plodded tiredly through the door, with a slight wobble and instability. countless yawns pushed through straightaway, your limbs heavy and full with ache.
upon reaching the sofa, you flopped onto it in your lounge, swallowed by the plush cushions with contact.
as a secretary doctor, your hours would consume most hours of your day, also haunting you with lethargy. needless to say, it was a tensile job which required tons of worth ethic—causing you to fall into a slumber within seconds of arriving home.
just like today.
your eyelids were opaque, your posture slumped, and it was no surprise that you would soon become unconscious with the dull pressure resting on your shoulders.
“hey babe?” you heard lando ring out, his footsteps getting closer. “are you back? i heard the front door lock.”
your efforts to speak were impractical, as you managed to muster up a wordless mumble. lando located you sprawled across the sofa, cuddling a plush cushion close to your chest. lando recognised this from before: the way you would tightly smother something close to your body, feeling like that would wash the pain away.
it was almost like your signature gesture for when you were struggling.
“babe?” he called again, softer this time. he crouched down next to the sofa, hesitant to reach out; his features pulled into a small sympathetic smile. he found it difficult to console you in times like this, as he wasn’t as good with his words than he was touch.
guilt was flooding through his veins as he knew he was unable to help in what he does best: hugs.
“are you okay huh? another long shift?”
“yeah, just tired.” you responded lazily, voice thick with sleep. lando was concerned about your health recently, as this was the 4th time this week you had came home in a fatigued state, and it was only friday.
“we need to do something about this y/n, this isn’t healthy.” he said firmly, with an unmistakable sigh fanning heat into your face.
“im fine alright? i just need some sleep.” you respond with a yawn, only opening your eyes to just about see your boyfriend.
even with less than half of your vision, you could feel the worry lacing through his head, his brows furrowed with a sad frown curling at his lips.
lando complied, figuring this wasn’t the best time to argue about your mental and physical health.
as you eyes flutter shut again, his fingers crawled hesitantly closer to your arm, longing to console you.
lando couldn’t further resist the temptation, feeling submitted to plant a lingering peck on your forehead—it was gentle and unobtrusive, allowing you to drift a little closer to sleep without pulling away.
the soft touch tingled at your skin, but the exhaustion weighed down any discomfort that you would normally sense.
the brunette felt a rush of adrenaline, accepting the fact that you didn’t pull away this time which made him sheepishly smirk and cheeks pink.
“c’mere.” lando glided your flats from your feet, gently tossing them to the side; he lifted your legs onto the sofa, draping a blanket across your body.
from the little space left on the sofa, lando seats himself next to your head although still afraid to reach for you.
you could feel the tension between you two, how much he was longing to caress your cold skin. but as the seconds passed by, your breaths became shallow, and body more still.
you stretched ever so slightly, your arm now draping over lando’s knee and subconsciously rested your head upon his leg.
lando hesitated, “y/n?”
you didn’t reply: already fallen asleep with little snores erupting from your lips. lando felt his muscles relax at your touch, an unfamiliar feeling that he wasn’t used to, but loved.
“sweet dreams beautiful,” he whispered gently, subtly rubbing circles onto your temple. lando was afraid to do anymore, halting when you stirred in your sleep.
he appreciated the moment then, realising it wouldn’t last forever. he cherished the feeling of being able to comfort you after a long day—the way he finally wanted.
lando smiled to himself, rubbing his eyes as the drowsiness was creeping upon him too.
he carefully craned his neck down, close enough to your ear but far enough so he wouldn’t disturb you.
“i’ll be here when you wake up baby, i love you.”
Wait, what?
Bucky x pregnant reader
A/N: My first request ever from @slutforsexyseabass this made me so happy, I LOVE concepts like this. Such a sucker for hidden relationships, I hope I did this justice, I will 100% rewrite this if you imagined it differently. I loved this concept SO much, I wrote this with three different endings. What the hell is wrong with me? Everything :) Cutest concept ever, thank you for this. Please like, comment and reblog <3
Warnings: Angst and fluff!! Pregnancy, swearing Word count: 3.9k (I’m so sorry, i just kept adding each time I imagined the ending differently)
Back story + baby Barnes (sort of part 2?)
I do (again) part 3?
4 months ago
“Are you sure you want this?”
You sighed, having spent the last hour trying to convince Fury to let you transfer to a desk job. Granted, it was an odd request coming from you because you loved your role as an Avenger and you had sworn you wouldn’t leave the job for anything else.
“Is there a specific reason you want to transfer agent?” He gave you a pointed look, clearly insinuating he already knew why you wanted this transfer.
“I-its for the best, at least for a little while” You fiddled with a pen on his desk, looking all around the room, avoiding eye contact. Fury nodded, you knew he knew.
“Alright. I’ll approve it. You understand when you transfer, visits and interactions with your teammates are not permitted under any circumstances. How does 1 year and 9 months sound?”
Your face heated up, as you chuckled, nodding. “It sounds perfect. Thank you” You made your way to the door with your transfer starting immediately.
“Congratulations Agent. To you and Mr. Barnes”
Keep reading
Better Than Melatonin
Kinktober Day 1 → Cockwarming 💋 Toto Wolff
Warnings: 18+ content
Kinktober Masterlist
The room is dark, lit only by the dim, golden glow from the bedside lamp. Toto sits on the edge of the bed, watching you as you toss and turn. The sheets tangle around your legs, and your face is scrunched up in frustration.
“Can’t sleep?” He asks, his voice low, almost a rumble.
You freeze for a second, not expecting him to still be awake. “I’m fine,” you reply, though it’s clear that you’re anything but.
Toto raises an eyebrow, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ve been moving around for the last hour. You’re not fine.”
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know … I just can’t seem to get comfortable.”
He doesn’t respond immediately, just continues to watch you, eyes narrowed as if he’s trying to figure something out. It’s unnerving, the way he studies you, as if you’re a puzzle he’s determined to solve. Finally, he speaks, his voice a deep, soothing timbre.
“Come here.”
You hesitate, unsure of what he’s planning. “Toto, I don’t-”
“Come here,” he repeats, more insistent this time. There’s a tone in his voice that makes it clear he’s not going to take no for an answer.
Reluctantly, you scoot closer to him, feeling the mattress dip under his weight. He’s so much larger than you, a wall of muscle and authority, and yet, there’s something undeniably comforting about his presence.
You rest your head on his chest, his steady heartbeat thrumming beneath your ear. For a moment, the world seems to settle, the chaos in your mind quieting down just a little.
But then you shift, trying to find a position that doesn’t feel so … awkward.
“You’re still tense,” he murmurs, his hand coming to rest on your hip.
You nod, biting your lip. “I guess … I guess I’m just not used to this.”
“This?” He prompts, his hand sliding up your side, his fingers trailing along your skin in a way that sends shivers down your spine.
“Sharing a bed,” you admit, your voice barely more than a whisper. “With someone like you.”
“Someone like me?” He echoes, and there’s a hint of amusement in his tone.
You huff, frustrated by your own inability to explain. “You know what I mean. You’re … you’re Toto Wolff. And I’m just … me.”
He chuckles, the sound vibrating through your entire body. “You’re not just anything, Häschen.” His hand cups your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, intense, and for a moment, you feel like you’re drowning in them. “You’re mine.”
The words send a thrill through you, a mix of excitement and nerves. “Toto …”
“Shh,” he hushes you, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”
You want to argue, to tell him that you’re fine, that you don’t need him to take care of you, but the words die on your tongue as he shifts, his body pressing you into the mattress. There’s no urgency in his movements, no rush, just a slow, deliberate claiming of space. His hands are everywhere, warm and sure, and before you know it, he’s positioned himself between your legs.
Your breath catches in your throat as you realize what he’s doing. “Toto, wait, I-”
“Trust me,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
He’s so close now, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
But you don’t want him to stop. You want this, want him, even though you’re still nervous, still unsure. There’s something about the way he touches you, the way he looks at you, that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world.
So you nod, giving him permission without words. He understands, of course he does, and slowly, carefully, he presses into you, filling you in a way that makes your mind go blissfully blank.
You gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as he settles deep inside you. He’s so big, so overwhelming, but it’s not painful. It’s just … intense.
“Easy,” he soothes, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Breathe.”
You do as he says, focusing on the rise and fall of your chest, the steady rhythm of your breathing. He stays still, just holding you, filling you, and somehow, that’s enough to calm the frantic thoughts racing through your mind.
After a moment, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression softening in a way that you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. “Better?”
You nod again, feeling a little dazed. “Yeah … better.”
“Good,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Now sleep.”
You blink up at him, confused. “Sleep? Like this?”
“Exactly like this,” he replies, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The idea of falling asleep like this, with him still inside you, is strange and yet … comforting. It’s as if he’s claiming you in a way that’s both physical and emotional, a silent promise that he’s not going to let you go.
“Okay,” you whisper, your body relaxing against him. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple.
You close your eyes, focusing on the steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body surrounding you. Slowly, the tension drains from your muscles, your mind drifting into a pleasant haze. It’s strange, but for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel safe. Safe and … loved.
Toto doesn’t move, just holds you, his hand resting on your hip, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin. You can feel him still inside you, a constant, grounding presence that lulls you into a sense of peace.
“Sleep, Häschen,” he whispers again, and this time, you don’t fight it.
You let yourself drift, the world fading away until there’s nothing left but the steady beat of his heart and the feeling of him, warm and solid, holding you close.
***
The soft, rhythmic click of the keyboard echoes through the dimly lit room. Toto’s office is a sanctuary of sleek modernity — glass, steel, and leather, with the subtle hum of computers creating a low, constant backdrop.
His eyes are glued to the screen, sharp and focused, his mind immersed in the layers of data that demand his attention. But despite the intensity of his work, he’s aware of the time — late, far too late for you to be awake.
And yet, there’s a soft creak of the door opening behind him, barely perceptible but enough to make him pause, his hands hovering over the keyboard. He glances up, his eyes narrowing as they adjust to the sight of you standing in the doorway, hesitant and small in the oversized t-shirt you’ve borrowed from him.
“Häschen?” His voice is gentle, but there’s an edge of concern. “What are you doing up?”
You shift on your feet, unsure how to explain. Your eyes are heavy with exhaustion, but there’s something else there too — a need, something unspoken but clear in the way you linger in the doorway. “I … I couldn’t sleep.”
Toto sighs, his expression softening as he leans back in his chair, taking in the sight of you. You look so vulnerable, standing there with your arms wrapped around yourself, as if you’re trying to ward off some unseen cold. He knows exactly why you can’t sleep — why you’ve been struggling on nights when he’s not in bed beside you.
“Come here,” he says, his tone a mixture of command and tenderness.
You hesitate, still unsure, but the pull is too strong. Slowly, you pad across the room, the cold hardwood floor making you shiver as you approach him.
Toto watches you carefully, his gaze never leaving yours as you finally reach his desk. He reaches out, taking your hand and pulling you closer until you’re standing between his legs, his warmth already seeping into you.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were having trouble sleeping?” He asks, his voice low as his hand comes up to caress your cheek.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” you murmur, your eyes downcast. “I know you’re busy.”
He frowns at that, his thumb brushing against your lower lip in a gesture that’s become all too familiar. “You’re never a bother to me, Häschen. You should know that by now.”
You nod, but it’s clear you’re still holding back, your body tense despite his reassuring words. “I just … I can’t sleep without you.”
The admission hangs in the air between you, heavy with the weight of your vulnerability. Toto’s eyes soften, a mix of pride and concern flashing through them as he pulls you closer, his hands firm on your hips. “You need me that much, hm?”
You bite your lip, embarrassed but unable to deny it. “I guess I do.”
His response is immediate. Without a word, he lifts you effortlessly, turning you so that you’re perched on his lap, your legs straddling his hips.
You let out a small gasp, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as he settles you against him. The warmth of his body, the solid feel of him beneath you, it all works to ease some of the tension from your muscles, but it’s not enough.
Toto seems to understand, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt, finding purchase on your bare skin. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t push, just holds you there, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your spine. “Tell me what you need, Häschen.”
You close your eyes, leaning into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. It’s a simple request, but it’s one that fills you with an odd mixture of longing and shame. “I need … I need you.”
His grip tightens ever so slightly, a reassuring pressure that grounds you. “I’m right here.”
“No,” you shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need you … like before.”
Toto’s hands still on your back, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve pushed too far. But then, he shifts, his hand coming up to cup your chin, tilting your face so that you’re forced to meet his gaze. “You want me to fill you, Häschen? Is that what you need?”
There’s no judgment in his tone, only understanding and a deep, unyielding care that makes your heart ache. You nod, feeling a tear slip down your cheek, more out of relief than anything else.
“Then that’s what you’ll have,” he murmurs, wiping the tear away with his thumb before capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.
He doesn’t rush, doesn’t demand. Everything he does is with a deliberate slowness, an assurance that he’s here, that he’s not going anywhere. His hands slide down to your hips, lifting you just enough so that he can position himself against you. You feel the hard length of him pressing against your entrance, and there’s a moment of hesitation, a brief flash of nerves that makes you tense up.
“Shh, relax,” Toto soothes, his lips brushing against your temple. “I’ve got you, Häschen. Let me take care of you.”
You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to relax as he slowly lowers you onto him, filling you inch by inch until he’s buried deep inside. It’s a stretch, a fullness that’s overwhelming and yet, it’s exactly what you need. The tension that’s been keeping you awake, the restless energy that’s been gnawing at you, it all melts away the moment he’s inside you.
“There you go,” Toto whispers, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. “That’s better, isn’t it?”
You can only nod, your face buried in the crook of his neck as you cling to him, your body trembling with relief. He doesn’t move, doesn’t thrust or push, just holds you there, letting you get used to the feeling of being so completely filled by him.
Toto’s hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair as he rocks you gently in his lap. “You’re doing so well, Häschen. Just let go. I’ve got you.”
You close your eyes, focusing on the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his body surrounding you. His hands are everywhere, holding you, grounding you, and it’s not long before you feel the exhaustion creeping back in, your body finally relaxing against him.
“That’s it,” Toto murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Just sleep, Häschen. I’ll be right here.”
You try to fight it, try to stay awake, but it’s a losing battle. The combination of his warmth, his scent, the steady rhythm of his breathing — it all works together to lull you into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Toto doesn’t move, doesn’t shift even an inch as you drift off. He stays still, his hands keeping you anchored to him, his eyes softening as he watches you finally find the peace that had been eluding you all night.
The minutes tick by, the silence of the room only broken by the soft sounds of your breathing, the occasional rustle of the sheets as you shift in your sleep. Toto continues to work, his fingers moving deftly over the keyboard, but his focus is only half on the screen. The other half is on you — on the way your body relaxes completely against him, on the way your lips part slightly as you breathe, on the way you trust him so implicitly to take care of you.
It’s a feeling that stirs something deep inside him, something protective, something possessive. You’re his, in every way that matters, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe, that you’re happy, that you know you’re loved.
Time slips by unnoticed as Toto works, the hours stretching out as the night deepens. Every so often, he glances down at you, checking to make sure you’re still comfortable, still resting peacefully. Each time, he finds you just as he left you, your body still pressed close to his, your breathing even and calm.
It’s only when the first hints of dawn begin to creep through the windows, the sky lightening to a soft, pale blue, that Toto finally lets out a breath, his work done for the night. He looks down at you, still asleep in his lap, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.
Carefully, so as not to wake you, he shuts down his computer, the soft whir of the machines fading into silence. Then, with the same gentle care, he shifts you in his arms, lifting you as he stands, cradling you against his chest.
You stir slightly, a soft murmur escaping your lips, but you don’t wake, your head resting against his shoulder as he carries you out of the office and down the hallway to the bedroom. The bed is still unmade from earlier, the sheets a tangled mess, but Toto doesn’t care. All that matters is getting you settled, making sure you’re comfortable.
He lays you down carefully, his movements slow and deliberate as he pulls the covers over you. For a moment, he just stands there, watching you sleep, a strange sense of peace settling over him. You look so small, so fragile in the big bed, and yet, there’s a strength to you, a quiet resilience that he admires more than he can put into words.
Finally, he slips into bed beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close. You instinctively curl into him, seeking out his warmth even in sleep, and Toto can’t help but smile as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.
As he settles beside you, he gently lifts your leg over his hip, positioning himself against your entrance. With a slow, careful motion, he slips back inside you, filling you completely once more.
You sigh in your sleep, a contented sound that melts into a soft moan, and your body instinctively curls closer to him, seeking his warmth and strength. Toto holds you there, his presence filling you completely, a sense of belonging settling over both of you. He strokes your back, soothing and slow, his own eyes growing heavy with sleep as the night finally gives way to dawn.
With you nestled in his arms, warm and secure, Toto allows himself to drift off, knowing that you're exactly where you belong — in his arms, perfectly content and loved.
Two Stephens
+18 Smut (Ménage a trois, baby!)
Pairing: Supreme!Strange x Fem!Reader / Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: When a spell goes wrong you and Stephen are throwed into another universe and end up needing the help of another Stephen Strange and things get a little intense between the three of you.
Word Count: 4,900k
Warnings: Ménage a trois (Vaginal and anal sex, DP, Oral sex with male and female receiving, Masturbation with male and female receiving.)
Writer Note: I needed to get this fantasy out of my head and I ended up being quite satisfied with the result. This is totally filthy. you are welcome ;)
As usual I would like to remind you that english is not my first language so will probably have some grammatical mistakes here and there but I hope it doesnt spoil your experience.
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“Okay, this is the worst day of my life, Strange and you will have to compensate me for all this mess.”
Strange held out his hand to you helping you up.
“Let's find a way to get back home first.”
You sighed looking around. You were on top of the roof of a building and you could take a good look at the city of NY from that universe. It was different. More alive, with much more greenery and flowers and even the smell of the air was better. No pollution or smell of factory smoke.
“I could get used to living here” You said sighing and Strange rolled his eyes. Of all the people in the world he could be lost with in another universe with no idea how to get back home, you were the last one he would choose. Wong insisted on saying that the problem he had with you came from a repressed feeling, but he couldn't imagine feeling anything for you at all. You were irritating, petulant, and although very pretty, you were definitely not a good company.
You felt your stomach churning, but you took a deep breath, doing your best not to throw up. “Okay, what's the plan?”
He was silent for a second.
“Strange, tell me you have a plan.”
“Maybe I’ll have one if you just shut up for a minute and let me think.”
You crossed your arms in annoyance “We're in NY. There must be a Sanctum here.”
He shook his head “Great deduction.”
You rolled your eyes “Maybe if we find the Sorcerer Supreme of this universe he can help us find a way to get back to ours.”
He thought for a moment looking at you “Maybe there is another me in this universe.”
You sighed “I'm praying we’ll find the Ancient One or Wong. I couldn't handle two of you.”
You walked the streets slowly, being surprised by the small differences between the universes. Here, for example, people walked in red instead of green, which made you almost get run over if he didn't pull you at the right time.
"Watch out" he said gruffly.
“Just for the record, this is all your fault!” You replied back in the same tone “If I die I will come back to haunt you!”
He looked at you offended “How is this my fault?”
“Are you really going to pretend it wasn't your spell that went wrong and caused all this?” You sighed irritably as you crossed another street “Just to remind you, I warned you not to do this damn forgetting spell. You never listen to anyone, Strange.”
“I was trying to help the kid! I know it's hard for you to have empathy for people, but he's suffered too much.”
“Okay, and I imagine he must be better now with all those villains loose there and both of us missing. How do you think he's handling it all by himself?!”
He did not answer. Strange was feeling tired and guilty. He was also worried about Parker and what might happen to him and you seemed to enjoy putting salt in the wound. He didn't know why you hated him so much, but it was exhausting to be around you for more than an hour and he was already around you for a long time. He just wanted to get home as soon as possible.
You finally arrived at the Sanctum Sanctorum and hesitated a little to knock on the door, but before you could knock the door opened by itself and you entered revealing a slightly more beautiful and well-kept hall.
“Hello” Strange called in the empty hall and then a familiar and annoying voice answered.
“What... How did you get here?”
You turned on your heel in time to see the man in a blue tunic coming down the stairs.
“Oh for God's sake!” You complained
Strange stared at the other Strange coming towards him. It was exactly like him, except he didn't have a goatee and wore a blue tunic and a blue cloak.
“I'm sorry for entering like that” Your Strange said “We are looking for the Sorcerer Supreme of this universe.”
The other Strange looked at the two of you curiously “Well now you find him. How can I help you?”
You couldn't help but notice the weird way that Strange was looking at you, as if he knew you.
You sat in the hall by the fire and he poured you a cup of tea and waited for you to explain how you got there.
“So let me get this straight” He said placing the empty cup on the coffee table “You used a forgetting spell to help your friend escape the persecution he was suffering, but somehow the spell went wrong and caused cracks in the fabric of reality opening rifts between universes?”
Strange nodded feeling ashamed before himself “It was a stupid mistake on my part. I could have fixed it, but the kid...”
“Now you want to blame a teenager for your mistakes, Strange?” You said irritated “Who understand the dangers, him or you?”
The other Strange looked at the two of you and smiled at you. A kind of smile you weren't used to seeing on your Strange. “I always knew that one day I would meet visitors from other universes, but I never dreamed of meeting a variant of myself and [Y/N]”
You stared at him in surprise “Do you know me?”
He nodded “Well, let's say so.”
Your Strange looked at you both curiously noticing the way the other Strange looked at you.
“Sorry, but what are you two to each other in this universe?”
Strange smiled, looking away from you and you felt your face heat up.
“We never decided that, actually.” He replied “Anyway, I haven't seen her in years. She's married and living out of the country from what I heard.”
You nodded, relieved to know that there was no way you could run into a version of yourself in that universe.
“I ask you the same question.”
Strange looked at you sighing “She is a student at Kamar Taj. One of my most powerful and intelligent students. No less irritating.”
You stared at Strange in surprise that he had said something positive about you.
The other Strange sighed “Well, if there is a rift between the universes as you say, I believe it's not impossible to return home, but first we have to find a way to fix this mess before other visitors start arriving from other universes.”
Strange agreed “I know I have no right to ask this, but I need your help.”
The other Strange looked at you again with that interested look and then smiled getting up and offering his hand to your Strange.
“I'll help you, Stephen. Besides, I would do anything [Y/N] asked me to.”
You felt your face getting red as you watched the two Stephens holding hands and it really did look like a vision from hell to you. Or, if you were going to accept that you had feelings for Strange that you never let on, then that would be a vision of paradise. A highly distorted paradise stemming from some forbidden fantasy.
You sighed getting up “Sorry, is there a bathroom I can use? Long day!”
Strange nodded “Of course. I imagine you know the Sanctum. You can have one of the guest rooms tonight. Make yourself at home!”
You agreed, turning your back on both of them as quickly as possible and walking away from that environment that suddenly felt inappropriate when added to your thoughts.
Strange noticed that the other Strange didn't take his eyes off you and noticing something inside him not liking it. It was almost as if he was jealous. But of course it couldn't be that, it was ridiculous.
“I presume you want to rest as well, maybe take a shower. There's not much we can do tonight. Tomorrow morning we'll find a way to send you home. The sooner you return, the less chance of an incursion.”
Strange looked at him confused “Incursion?”
“That's what happens when one universe collides with another. We don't want something like that to happen to our universes so, as amazing as it is to meet you, I'm inclined to get rid of you as soon as possible.”
Strange nodded “Of course. Yeah... thanks for the hospitality.”
The other Strange smiled “I presume you would do the same for me. After all, if we could't help ourselves, what kind of Doctor Strange would we be?”
Strange nodded and was leaving the room when the other Strange spoke again.
“You and [Y/N]... is there nothing between you?”
Strange didn't understand the reason for the question and again noticed that irritating feeling of jealousy invading him.
“She clearly likes you...” He smirked “us... that's why I'm asking.”
“And why do you want to know?”
Strange sighed “Because it would be quite an incursion!”
Strange gritted his teeth, but shrugged. “I doubt she likes us that way. Believe me, that woman hates me, she makes my life a hell all the time!”
Strange chuckled “Some would say there is a thin line between love and hate. Maybe we're somewhere in between.”
Strange shook his head “As long as she agrees, do as you please!”
Strange nodded.
You took a shower and looked out the window at the streets of NY bathed in lights. Tiredness hitting you like lightning.
You weren't content to wear the same clothes, but for lack of anything else to wear you stuffed yourself inside your pair of jeans and white long-sleeved blouse. A knock on the door took you by surprise.
“Come in” You said while drying your hair. The Strange of that universe entered the room in his glorious blue tunic and blue cloak.
“I hope you are well accommodated” He smiled “Me and your Stephen agreed that I will help you both to return to your universe tomorrow. Tonight you must rest. You're safe here.
You felt your heart racing and you looked away from the intense way he was looking at you.
“Yeah...thanks, Strange.”
He nodded “You can call me Stephen if you want to” He said taking a step towards you and getting dangerously close to you “We were very close.”
You nodded, swallowing your saliva “Thank you, Stephen.”
He smirked “The last time we saw each other you told me that you loved me. If I remember correctly, you said you loved me in every universe” He said touching your face and as strange as that was, you couldn't pull away. “I think this is a great opportunity to test that.”
He touched your lips with his thumb, forcing them to part.
“Of course, if you're as interested in finding out as I am.”
He came closer and kissed your lips lightly. Just a touch of lips, watching your reactions. You sighed, all the feelings you felt for him that you had hidden for so long now surfacing and overwhelming you. You knew it was wrong, but for that moment you couldn't care less.
He smiled as if reading your thoughts and took you in his arms kissing you intensely. The cloak fell from his shoulders and flew out of the bedroom.
You were lost in his arms when you heard the sound of footsteps that stopped at the door.
Strange stepped away from you and you stared at your Strange standing in the door looking at the scene with an expression you didn't know if it was anger, surprise or desire.
“Stephen, I was saying to [Y/N] that the last time I saw her in this universe she told me that she loved us in every universe, what do you think about testing this theory?”
Strange stared at the two of you. The arrogant way his variant referred to you, as if he knew you so much better than he did, made him jealous and he couldn't hide anymore that all the irritation he felt when you were around masked a feeling much stronger than he could have imagined. The fact that such feeling was so strong that existed in other universes only made him more sure of how real it was and seeing that variant kissing and touching you made him want to do the same. You were his after all.
He entered the room and the other Strange stepped away watching as he took his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you to his lips. You moaned softly in surprised but wrapped your arms around his neck and let him deepen the kiss, sucking your tongue with desperate desire. You pulled back for breath and opened your eyes to see the other Strange looking at the two of you with lust.
Your Strange stepped back cupping your face in his hands
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
You faced the other Strange who was waiting anxiously for your answer.
“Fuck this! Yes.”
You said launching yourself into the arms of the other Stephen, delighting in his lips while your Stephen approached you from behind kissing your shoulder and moving his lips to your neck. You moved away from the lips of one Stephen to surrender to the lips of the other, taking turns between their mouths, the contrast between the smooth face and the goatee was interesting and you were not at all in the mood to choose which was better. You wanted both.
The bedroom door closed with a slight movement of the other Stephen's hand and you heard the latch click.
Your Stephen ran his hands down your back holding your blouse and pulling it over your head and throwing it to the floor. He placed open-mouthed kisses on your bare shoulder and pressed you against his body so you could feel his shaft under his clothes.
The other Stephen caressed your breast over your bra and not satisfied pulled it down revealing your naked skin, the cold air making your nipple harden. He brought his lips to it sucking, his other hand caressing your other breast.
A low moan escaped your lips and your Stephen reached for your hand placing it on his shaft so that you could feel the state you had left him in. He buried his face between your neck and your shoulder, you tilted your head to create more room for him and he took a light bite of your neck, his goatee making your skin shiver, your hand gripped his cock over his clothes. God, it was huge.
The other Stephen lifted his lips to yours again, his hands going down to your pants unbuttoning the buttons and pulling them down, reaching down to help you get your feet over them. He turned his lips to your breasts as he brought a hand gently down between your legs, stroking through your panties.
You felt your entire body tremble at that touch. Your hand struggling to free your Stephen from all that clothing as he continued the assault on your neck.
He unbuckled his belt, getting rid of some of his clothing, leaving only his pants and boots. You moaned softly as the other Stephen slipped his hand inside your panties caressing your clit with his trembling fingers and taking one finger inside you.
“Oh look at that, she's completely wet, Stephen. And its all for us.”
You moaned in agreement putting your hand inside your Stephen's pants and finally taking his cock and releasing it. He was hard, full of visible veins, a fat, pink head, and the tip was wet with precum. You held him tight in your hand moving up and down jerking him.
“Oh fuck, baby, do you really want me that way? Why didn't you tell me before?”
"Shut up, Stephen" You said feeling your face blushing and pulling him to your lips as you stroked his cock and moved your hips against the other Stephen's skillful fingers. The wet noise his fingers made inside you was obscene.
“God, Stephen, this is so good!”
He chuckled kneeling on the floor, lifting one of your legs and placing it over his shoulder. He pulled your panties to the side and licked all the way from your entrance to your clit.
Your entire body shook and you moaned loudly, increasing the strength and speed with which you jerked your Stephen.
“Is it good?” He asked biting his lip to contain his own moans “Tell me how it feels with his mouth sucking you like that?”
You moaned “It feels good, Stephen. Really good.”
He growled impatiently “I want your mouth. I want to fuck that dirty mouth of yours until you confess that you always wanted me to fuck you. How does that sound to you? Good?”
You nodded, moaning loudly as the other Stephen stuck one more finger inside you and fucked you with them while sucking your clit. You brought your other hand to his head, grabbing his hair.
“Fuck Stephen you do it so good.”
He smiled satisfied looking at you. His smooth face all red and wet with your juices. “Yeah? How about letting your Stephen have a taste on you? Do you want this, Stephen?”
Your Stephen groaned impatiently “Fuck yes.”
Stephen pulled away taking your hand and pulling you onto the bed. “Lie down, honey.”
You obeyed, laying down leaning against the pile of pillows. Your Stephen got rid of his clothes and climbed onto the bed coming towards you. He brought his hands to your panties, taking them off and throwing them on the floor and your legs dangled to the sides. He bit his lip seeing you fully open to him. Your little cunt swollen and wet. He couldnd believe that was really happening.
“Stephen, please... I need you to touch me.”
He brought his fingers up your slit feeling how wet you were and opened the folds of your clit before diving there, flicking his tongue in your bundle of nerves making you twitch and moan.
The other Stephen smirked satisfied watching the two of you. It was beyond any dream he could conjure up seeing himself sucking you like that, it made him extremely hard.
He unbuckled his belt and got out of his clothes leaving only his boxers and climbed onto the bed kneeling beside you and taking your hand and placing at his cock over his boxer. You bit your lips caressing over the fabric, then you reached inside and took it out, stroking quickly.
"God, Stephen you are so big"
“Yeah? You like it? Put it in your mouth, honey. I want this wonderful mouth around my big cock.”
You moaned as Stephen placed three fingers inside you, fingering you intensely as he sucked on your clit making a delicious sucking noise.
You jerked him a couple of times and spat on him spreading your spit around him and only then your putted him in your mouth going as far as you could without gagging.
Stephen moaned loudly “Oh shit honey, your mouth feels so good wrapped around my cock like that.”
You hummed contentedly by moving your hips to get as much friction as possible from your Stephen's mouth as his fingers fucked you.
You took his cock out of your mouth and went back to spitting on him jerking him quickly. He held your hair, pulling it lightly.
“You do it so well, [Y/N]. I missed that. I missed you.”
You nodded knowing too well he wasn't talking about you, but it was all so confusing right now, you didn't really care.
Stephen raised his lips kissing your belly and breasts and took his hand to your chin pulling you off the other Stephen's cock to kiss him.
You kissed him, tasting you from his mouth and moaning between his lips.
“You taste so good, baby. I could eat you like this forever.”
You sighed into his lips as you continued to jerk the other Stephen making a wet noise.
“I want to taste you Stephen. Let me suck your cock too. Let me show you how much I care about you, how much I've always cared.”
He groaned, sitting up in bed.
The other Stephen cupped your chin kissing you. You got down on all fours and took Stephen's cock in your hand and spat on it stroking it quickly, squeezing it and fucking it with your hand.
He moaned loudly “Please baby, put it in your mouth. I want to fuck your mouth.”
You complied by sucking it willingly. Licking the tip and going as far as you could, relaxing your mouth until the tip hit the back of your throat.
“Fuck baby, you do it so perfectly. You’re so good”
The other Stephen caressed your ass cheeks and you felt his fingers penetrating you.
“You are dripping wet honey. So warm. I wanna put my cock inside you. Can I? Say yes please. Let me fuck you while you suck his cock.”
"Yes, Stephen"
You said feeling his tip rubbing at your entrance. You moved your hips against him, wanting him to enter you at once.
“Honey you are so needy.”
He spat on his hand, bringing the saliva to the tip of his cock and then positioned it at your entrance, penetrating you with a single thrust. You moaned loudly as his cock stretched you and you kept your Stephen's cock in your mouth sucking him fast while your hand caressed his balls.
“Oh shit, honey you are so tight. Your fucking little cunt is so tight. I love it.”
You moaned in approval as he fucked you with quick, intense thrusts. Both hands gripping your hips, squeezing and pulling you against his thrusts and going so deep it made your whole body shake.
Stephen pulled your hair out of your face and kept it in his hand in a ponytail so he could get a good view of your mouth swallowing his cock. You kept forcing him down your throat, going so deep that your nose brushed his pubic hair, your hand gripping his balls and massaging them.
“Baby you suck my cock so good. Why have you never sucked my cock before? Isn't that what you wanted all along?”
You hummed taking his cock out of your mouth coughing and gagging. Saliva dripped from your mouth in a thick tread between your mouth and the tip of his cock. Tears streaming from your eyes. You moaned loudly feeling each wonderful thrust while the other Stephen fucked you at such a fast and intense pace.
He pulled you to his lips kissing you and then pulled you off the other Stephen's and into his lap.
“It's my turn” He said turning your back to him while you put your leg through his legs. You held his cock helping him to penetrate you and supported yourself on your legs to ride him, but Stephen couldn't give up control. He slipped his hands under your thighs, holding your weight and forcing his hips against you, fucking you at his own fast, intense pace.
He moaned loudly “Baby, your cunt feels so good on my cock.”
The other Stephen got up standing on the bed and came over so you could suck his cock. You kept both hands busy behind your back resting on Stephen's chest, so he put his hands in your hair holding it and forcing your head against his cock making you swallow it.
“Fuck, honey, you're being so nice to us. I bet you never dreamed of having two Stephens in bed with you, did you?”
He held your chin taking his cock out of your mouth and you took the opportunity to breathe. He was right. You never dreamed something like that could happen.
You shook your head no and he placed his cock in your mouth sideways forcing it against your cheek and pulling it out with a delicious popping noise. He repeated it a few times moaning and then grunted impatiently "Fuck this Stephen, If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right.”
He pulled you off your Stephen and made you lie on your side, your head positioned at the perfect height so you could suck your Stephen.
He lay down right behind you running his hand through your slit collecting as much of your slick and dragging it to your other entrance.
He spat into his hand, bringing the saliva to his cock and placing the tip on your ass. He pushed slowly and you twitched insecurely.
“It's okay honey, I know how to do it. I won't hurt you. Just relax, okay? Trust me.”
You did as he asked and tried to relax. He pulled your thigh, bending your leg so that it was in the best position for him to penetrate you from behind and slowly he was putting it on.
Your Stephen held all your hair in his hand forcing you against his cock. He moaned loudly, enjoying the wonderful flutter in your throat as you moaned into his cock while the other Stephen fucked you.
Stephen really knew how to deal with you, he didn't hurt you and with patience you felt his whole cock inside you in that wonderful new way.
“Honey, you can handle my cock so well. Tell me when I can move.”
You moaned, moving your hips against him and he smiled satisfied, starting to move slowly at first and then increasing his speed until he found a slow but intense pace and little by little you got used to being fucked like that, the new pleasure revealing itself with each thrust.
Stephen pulled you lightly by the hair taking the cock out of your mouth and moaning satisfied “Look at you baby. Are you really letting him fuck your ass? Tell me, does it feel good?”
You moaned and he bent down to kiss your lips “Use your words, baby. Tell me how it feels.”
“It feels good, Stephen. It feels good to have him fucking my ass. I've never felt anything like this before.”
He smiled satisfied “I wanna have your ass too, baby. Will you let me fuck your ass?”
You nodded and the other Stephen stepped back sitting on the bed leaning against the headboard.
“Come here honey, let me fuck your little cunt so he can fuck your ass. What do you think? Is not what you wanted? Two Stephens fucking you?”
You moaned and shaked your head yes, sliding your leg through his thighs and positioning him at the entrance of your pussy.
Your Stephen waited for your answer.
“Come here Stephen. I want you to fuck my ass. I want to have both inside me fucking me at the same time. My two Stephens.”
He groaned as he positioned himself behind you and placed his cock at the entrance of your ass and slowly pushed until he was fully inside you and moaned at the feel of your tight ass squeezing his cock and you have never felt so full.
“Oh my god, you both feel so good fucking me at the same time. Fuck yeah, I love it. Just keep fucking me like that, just like that baby. I feel so full, so full. Oh my god.”
You leaned on the other Stephen's shoulders kissing him passionately as you moved on his cock getting as much friction as possible on your clit.
At the same time your Stephen was holding your hair tightly fucking you from behind and turning your face so you could kiss him while he fucked you.
It didn't take long for you to feel your climax building deep in your belly. Even that felt different because you felt so full with them both inside you like that.
“Oh my god you gonna make me cum.”
The other Stephen moaned loud “Fuck honey, cum on my cock while he fuck your ass.”
You didn't need anything else, your entire body convulsed on top of him as your Stephen fucked your ass and no words came out of your mouth, just a loud moan and you collapsed on the other Stephen's chest.
Your Stephen pulled away holding his cock and jerking off “I am gonna cum, baby. Where do you want me?”
You moaned, bending down to take him in your mouth in time to feel the hot load of cum flooding your mouth. He moaned loudly as you sucked every drop until he was completely dry. He pulled you to his lips kissing you and then collapsing on the bed.
The other Stephen handed his cock in your hand and you took it in your mouth sucking it and jerking him, feeling him throbbing and twitching.
“Honey I'm gonna fill your mouth too.”
You moaned in approval as the hot liquid flooded your mouth and you swallowed it all. It had exactly the same taste. You licked him until he was completely clean.
He sat on the bed panting running his hand through his hair wet with sweat and then he smiled getting up and with a gesture of his hand he was fully dressed.
He came around the bed and pulled you in for one last kiss
“I was right. You do love me in every universe.”
You nodded watching as he left the room and closed the door behind him.
Your Stephen sat up in bed and held your hand “Are we going to talk about this or...”
You sighed feeling the tiredness hit your body “We will, but not today. Today we're just going to sleep”
You said and he nodded, lying down on the bed and you lay on his chest, snuggling your arm across his belly and soon you both fell asleep.
-------------------------------
MASTERLIST
Tag list: @drstrangesgirl91 @polytheatrix @dragonqueen89 @newtsniffles @strangelockd @evelynrosestuff @cute-angi @aisling1985 @whiskeyho @prix1994 @graveyzxbabe @kirithadilitirio @sherlux @xourownsidee @rbymoon @kakashibabe02 @hobimysolecito @geeky-politics-46
could i req being an f1 dilf's race engineer during their prime? like for ex. seb in his red bull era, jenson in brawn, fernando in renault, etc
a/n: knew I watched brawn gp documentary for a reason 🤭🤭 how you didn’t mention mark’s prime 😔✊
— jenson button
When you discovered Honda was going to resign, you had no idea how to go on. Of course, Jenson was your first priority – all the eyes were on the only female race engineer. They doubted you, snickered at you, and didn’t believe the team could make it. ‘Fuck them all, darling,’ and you’re here celebrating his win for the hundredth time. Drowned in champagne, dress hunched up a bit too far, or your heels in Jenson’s hand – he loved every moment of it. When you calm him down with only your voice in his ear or hug him when the whole world only cared for who’s P1. And, he loves kissing you pumping with adrenaline, camera flashing for the best angle.
— sebastian vettel
Sebastian was a menace. He is the lion of Singapore, and doesn’t apologize for winning. You loved being the one he mentioned you while soaking in sweat, smiling at his place in P1. ‘my lovely race engineer…’ Rumors spreading like wildfire but you two couldn’t give two fucks, saying you were good only for the sake of your driver. And he couldn’t care less, he got the hottest and smartest race engineer, and he’s wrapped around your little fingers. Obviously, there were times when he’s a dick, never listens to your advice, and he’s unapologetic about it – leaving him breathless when you pulled his Red Bull collar into a kiss to get him to think straight. ‘…do that again, schatz.’
— mark webber
His time in Red Bull was the most bittersweet moment of his life – and, of course, you were his heavenly sent angel in the midst of the stormy night. He would, and will, calm down whenever he hears your sweet voice in his comms. He blamed himself for not fighting harder for his place…and not fighting even harder for you, while the rest argued differently. And don’t even get me started on kissing him on his stubble good luck before any race – gripping your headset whenever he’s close to lifting off the ground, asking if he’s okay before even checking the piece of metal. ‘I’m alright, sugar..’ And then there are times when he kissed you too hard for getting that P1, showing you off.
— fernando alonso
One thing about villains was they know how to fight for what they love: Fernando included. He knows you were perfectly capable of protecting yourself against the stupid comments media had to offer, but he wouldn’t mind stepping in. Getting win after wins, other teams played suspecting eyes, claiming all the things they could. But you’ve tried to play under the radar, avoiding drama anywhere you walked on the grid. Hell, you can’t even be seen near other team’s drivers. And he doesn’t mind; plus, he knew he had the sweetest race engineer under his belt – and he doesn’t plan on letting go anytime soon. Just until you said I love you on the team radio, leaving him with a big smirk. ‘mi hermosa.’
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