In A Galaxy Far, Far Away | Lando Norris Smau [part 5]

surprise! / julián álvarez

request: julian alvarez ig au where his gf surprises him with the help of his manchester teammates/the manchester staff

author's note: so the pics are old (during camp with the nt) but we'll pretend he's with city kajsksj (hoping to get pics this year🤞🏻)

mancity

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mancity feliz cumpleaños araña! 🎉🕷️ (happy birthday spider! 🎉🕷️)

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juliaanalvarez muchas gracias 😁 (thank you so much 😁)

yourusername happiest of birthdays for the golden boy ⭐ wish i was there 🥹

juliaanalvarez te extraño 😞 (miss you 😞)

erling.haaland julian!!! happy birthday my friend 🤝🏻

yourusername added to their story.

yourusername

Liked by juliaanalvarez, yourbff and others.

yourusername feliz cumpleaños al chiquito más dulce que conozco 🥹🤍 te amooooo ojalá te haya gustado tu sorpresa 😋 gracias mancity por dejarlo ir a casa temprano 🙏🏻 (happiest of birthdays to the sweetest guy i know 🥹🤍 i love youuuu hope you liked your surprise 😋 thanks to mancity for letting him go home early 🙏🏻)

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juliaanalvarez siempre sos el mejor regalo 🤍 gracias hermosa 😍 (you're always the greatest gift 🤍 thank you beautiful 😍)

yourusername 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

mancity always in for making our golden boy happy 🤝🏻

♥️ liked by creator.

tinder buddies | ln4

hi! i have no idea how to comment on that. i've got inspiration from the rumors that are now going on twitter and tiktok about lando and his activity in sm and i thought man, i need to write something in this narrative because sexting with him??? scuse me??? but of course all of this is fiction and and i dont have any statement on the rumors about lan, mostly because all of these are rumors and not facts. anyway, pls leave his poor papaya ass alone and enjoy this instead!

summary: when you met your tinder buddy irl and realize how indeed world is small

warnings: masturbation on cam (both male and female), bit of swearing, in general alott of sexual tention

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N thought that she was good at what she was doing. She thought that despite her young age she fit in the world of motorsport really well. Sometimes it even crossed her mind that she was no different from her older colleagues, what's more, sometimes she even thought that she was better than them. However, she admitted this only to herself with complete modesty and behind tightly closed doors.

Apart from the fact that Y/N was a really good journalist whose career was growing at a surprising pace, at the end of the day she was just a twenty-two-year-old girl who, like many other twenty-two-year-old girls in the world, had her smaller and bigger sins.

Y/N breathed heavily as she entered her hotel room. She set her suitcase and bag aside, taking off her shoes and plopping down on the bed. It was well after midnight, her flight was delayed by several hours and she was simply exhausted by the passing day. Even though she was excited about the events that awaited her in a few hours, right now she was just tired. However, she knew perfectly well what would help her relax before going to sleep. Not so much what, but who.

The girl unlocked her phone and easily found the Instagram icon, clicking on it and going straight to the messages. She entered the first conversation and was about to write some prosaic message, but she didn't have time to type out half of the sentence when a new message appeared in the chat.

"u up?"

Y/N smiled to herself. It looked like she could count on a pleasant end to the day.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing"

The reply message appeared a moment later.

"i was waiting for you to be available. i thought the evening would be wasted"

"And yet you see, surprise"

The person on the other end smiled and untied the drawstring on his sweatpants. He quickly wrote his answer with one hand.

"wanna call?"

"I think you know the answer"

She smiled and reached for the switch and turned off the light, pressing the camera icon with her other hand.

Y/N and the boy she had been messaging with for a little over a month knew next to nothing about each other. She had a private account and a few photos, he had a black icon and an empty profile. He only knew her name, she only the first letter of his. They met on Tinder, their profiles there looked quite similar. She has a few photos, more of the body than the face, he has the same, mostly in black and white. They had never seen each other's faces, but they knew each other's bodies inside and out.

Y/N placed her phone on the table and leaned it against the lamp, which she turned on a moment later. The light from it was dim, but it illuminated her body enough. The angle her phone was at only showed her from the neck down. She was perfect at maintaining her privacy.

"New background?"

He asked, seeing that the surroundings behind her were different from those he had seen before. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in only a bra and a thin t-shirt.

"I'm away from home"

"Work?"

"Too many questions"

There was quiet laughter on the other side. He liked her temperament. He liked her curves even more and the sounds she made when, at his command, she pushed her fingers inside her and brought herself to orgasm. Yes, he liked that too.

"Yeah, you're right. Strip."

Y/N pulled the t-shirt over her head and her interlocutor saw a red, lace bra that he never seen on her before. He smiled and ran his hand over his crotch. He felt a chill run through him.

"You look good, baby. Red suits you"

She laughed and pushed her hair behind her shoulders.

"Is this the first time you gonna tell me to keep my bra on?"

"For now, yes. I'd love to look at it for a while" he squeezed his cock and began to lightly massage it through the fabric. "You know what to do, dont'cha?"

Y/N bit her lip and lifted her hands, placing them gently on her shoulders. She slowly moved them down her body and when she found her breasts, she slowly started massaging them in circular motions. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, hearing the sigh that came from her phone. He watched her carefully, following her every move.

"Take it off," he said after a while, "It's pretty, but I think I prefer you without it."

She quickly took off her bra and threw it aside. He smiled at the sight of her breasts. Y/N returned to them, continuing their massage. As she lightly pinched her nipples, she moaned softly. His cock vibrated at the sound that came from his headphones. He smiled.

"Does it feel good, baby?"

"Mhm, yeah" she answered, looking again at her phone "But you're playing unfair again. I have to see you too."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"You don't let me enjoy you"

He replied and put down the phone, quickly pulling his shirt over his head. He fell back on the pillows and turned on the light on his phone. Y/N smiled at the sight of the familiar, slightly tanned and toned torso. Her interlocutor didn't see it, but she smiled even more when he tightened his hand on his cock, which was now clearly visible on the gray material of his trousers.

"Take off the rest of your clothes and lie down"

He ordered. Y/N obediently lay down, taking off her pants and underwear. When the rustle of fabric could be heard on the other side, he easily freed himself from his pants and tight, slightly damp boxers. He spat on his hand and spread the saliva over his cock, feeling it tighten under his touch. Fuck, what he would give if instead of his hand it was this tiny hand that disappeared between the pair of thighs he saw on the screen of his phone.

The girl complied with his command and he saw her middle finger slowly sinking inside her, only to come out after a while covered with her juices.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, "You're so wet, baby."

“I wish you were here and licked me clean.”

Y/N said, rubbing her clit. She felt that she wouldn't need much to reach orgasm.

Her interlocutor smiled under his breath, but she wasn't able to see it.

"I'm afraid that i would make you even more wet."

"Someone has quite an ego here"

"I know my capabilities, baby."

She snorted under her breath and made herself more comfortable, inserting her finger into herself again. First one, quite slowly, and soon she added another one. A long moan filled the hotel room as she began to move them, imagining that it was not her but him who was fucking her. And not with his fingers, but with his wet, hard cock.

"Yeah, just like that, baby. Keep going."

His eyes carefully followed the screen and the activities taking place on it. His hand moved smoothly over his cock, his lips were slightly opened. As he was stroking himself, the glass of his watch on his wrist reflected the light from the phone. He wore it every time they cam together. Y/N didn't know anything about watches, so she didn't know what brand it was or whether it was expensive. They never talked about it, honestly, they basically never had a normal chat. However, he once asked her about the tattoo on her forearm, just below the inner bend of her elbow. He noticed it after the first time they met on camera. When it was all over and they were about to hang up and return to their real lives, he asked about it.

"What does 33 mean?"

He asked when the girl started getting dressed.

"What?"

"Tattoo on your arm"

The girl looked at her forearm and only then did she understand what he was asking about.

"I can't tell you because you'll make fun of me"

Hearing this, he smiled. Not because there was probably some stupid story behind it, but because the girl was concerned about not looking bad in front of him. Even though they absolutely didn't know each other.

"I barely know your name, I don't know why I would make fun of you."

Y/N was silent for a moment, glancing at her tattoo and lightly stroking it with her thumb.

"Do you know Formula 1?"

He smiled and nodded. His reaction, however, was beyond her reach.

"I know a thing or two"

"My favorite driver drives with this number. Well, actually he did, now his number is 1. But for me it will still be associated with 33"

The girl explained. She felt a bit embarrassed to expose herself to him, especially with something like this. However, he did not laugh at her or comment on her confession in any negative way.

"I have a friend who is also involved in motorsport and has the same number. Actually, not anymore, because he also had to change it. But for me it will also be associated only with 33"

Y/N smiled at his words. Sometimes she wondered if they could become friends and get to know each other a little better. But then she decided to come down to earth and remind herself that she had no time for relationships or friendships. Now the most important thing for her is work and career, everything else can wait. After all, no one will satisfy her as much as herself. Right?

"Fuck, I could fill you so good, baby," he moaned, gasping for breath. He felt that he was only seconds away from orgasm "You have no idea how much pleasure I would give you."

The girl's lips were opened, her eyelids were shut tightly. She massaged her clit with her left hand and moved the fingers of her right hand inside her in quick, uneven movements.

"I'm about to- I…oh my god-"

“Yes, baby, thats it" he gasped, speeding up "Cum for me.”

She felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. The moment her back arched, she heard a long "fuck" coming from her phone. He came shortly after her, staining his toned abs with his sperm. He squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, trying to calm his breathing. There was silence on both sides for a moment, neither of them moving an inch.

After some time, Y/N sat on the bed and reached for a tissue, wiping her hands on it.

"I have to go now. I have a lot of work waiting for me tomorrow."

"Me too. I wanted to let you know that we may not be able to call you tomorrow."

He answered, also wiping himself.

“It's okay, no big deal,” Y/N replied and took one last look at the muscled, tanned torso visible on her phone screen, “Good night. And good luck with your chores tomorrow.”

“Good night, baby. You too.”

She smiled and reached for her phone, ending the call. Exhausted from the previous day and the evening cam session, she just buried herself in the blanket and shortly after fell asleep. The next day, when her alarm went off, she was full of energy despite several hours of sleep. She couldn't wait for friday's qualifying and all she was thinking about as she was getting ready was whether she would be able to get good material.

As she put on her red bra, she smiled involuntarily as she remembered last night. She wondered if he had already gotten lost in the whirlwind of his today's duties. Y/N quickly got dressed, gathered her things and, putting her pass around her neck, left the hotel. When she got to the track and was in the paddock, she couldn't think about anything else. Her only thoughts revolved around what was going to happen on the track in a few dozen minutes. However, for a split second she wondered what her tinder buddy actually knew about Formula 1. Maybe they could have something to talk about? Maybe she could even take him to some grand prix?

Her thoughts disappeared when she noticed Lando Norris hanging around the McLaren garage. The girl asked the cameraman to prepare the equipment and she would ask the Brit if he would be willing to have a short conversation. She squeezed the microphone in her hand and without thinking, she approached him, introducing herself and asking if it was possible to record a short conversation.

Hearing her name, his heart did a flip. He knew that name very well.

"Sure, no problem"

He replied with a smile, obviously not revealing himself, and ran his hand through his hair. The glass of the watch strapped to his wrist gleamed in the sunlight. Y/N had seen this watch before. Many times.

The girl smiled back and, hearing his agreement, gave a thumbs up to the cameraman. When she raised her hand, the sleeve of her shirt rolled up, and Lando's eyes involuntarily caught the tattoo on her forearm. A slight 33, just below the bend in the elbow.

He felt a sudden wave of heat wash over him. It's a coincidence, right? It must be.

"How's your mood before qualifying?"

Y/N asked, putting the microphone down and straightening her shirt. As she was arranging her collar, Lando's eyes caught a glimpse of her red bra strap. He smiled to himself and looked down. He wondered how many accidents and coincidences had come together in the universe and resulted in this situation.

"What? Is something wrong?"

The girl asked, not knowing what made him react like that.

He shook his head and after a moment looked up again. He looked at the girl carefully. However, she was completely lost and looked at him questioningly.

"Sorry, as you can probably see, my mood is great. I'm positive about today's qualifying."

Y/N tentatively gripped her microphone. When the cameraman approached them, they started recording the footage and she had no time to analyze Lando's strange behavior. In fact, it was possible that this was their first and last conversation ever, so why should she care about it. When they managed to record a short material, Y/N thanked him and wished him successful qualifications. After that everyone went their separate ways.

Immediately after entering the garage, Lando found his phone buried in a pile of his things. He quickly entered his latest conversation on Instagram and, without thinking, decided to send the girl a message. Worst case scenario, he'll just make a fool of himself, which isn't a big deal since they don't know each other at all. At best, he would spend tonight as he had long dreamed of.

"ure even prettier than i thought, baby."

Y/N felt a vibration in her pants pocket and without thinking, she unlocked her phone. She was surprised to see a notification coming from Instagram, and she was even more surprised when she noticed who sent her the message. After reading it, she felt a cold sweat break out on her. However, she decided to think and act soberly.

"How do you know what I look like?"

"turn around"

Lando replied quickly and leaned against the threshold of his garage. The girl clutched her phone in her hands and obeyed his command with her heart beating wildly. Lando smiled at her, holding his still unlocked phone. Y/N felt a lack of saliva in her mouth. It's impossible, it's not really happening.

"Are you sure we're looking at the same person?"

She replied, having difficulty pressing the appropriate keys with her fingers. He was amused by her reaction. This whole situation didn't make sense to him. It was crazy.

"im looking at a pretty neat journalist with a mad bunda who has a tattoo with my friend's racing number. and u?"

Y/N blushed. Fuck. It's him.

"I see that your jumpsuit is a little tight in some places."

Lando snorted under his breath. The girl wasn't lying. The whole situation made quite an impression on him.

Y/N bit her lip and looked up. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't arousing.

"u know exactly why its tight"

"I guess I have to find out in real life. The camera likes to lie."

When she sent the message, she looked up again and their eyes locked. The Brit winked at her and quickly replied, turning on his heel and disappearing into the depths of the garage.

"my driver's room in five minutes. ill be happy to dispel your doubts"

We need no. 8 and 143 for Sebastian Vettel x reader 😍

8 - "Looks like we'll be trapped for a while,"

143 - "Are you trying to turn me on or are you really just that oblivious?"

SEB REQ SEB REQ SEB REQ!! Very excited about this one because I ADORE Seb and I was secretly worried no one would want to hear about him. Entirely based on Seb's flirting with anything that moves era

Also, this is my 100th post on this blog woo

Warnings: Yeah this is getting smutty. NSFW!

Prompt night info and list for requesting your own ficlet/HCs here!

Also entered an entire crisis over picking a gif because Seb is a YES for me in all of his eras

"Looks like we'll be trapped for a while," you sighed, slumping back against the elevator and sinking to the floor.

Only you could get yourself stuck in an elevator in the middle of the track stadium with Sebastian fucking Vettel. Sebastian was very calm about the whole thing. Thank god, you thought, that the race had finished and it was only post-race interviews left. If you'd held up the race you would have had to change your identity and move to Peru out of embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry," you apologised again, because it was the only thing you could think of doing. Sebastian gave you a fairly blank look from where he was examining the control panel, trying to kick start the buttons to life.

"Not your fault," it wasn't the first time he'd said that either.

"I shouldn't have jammed the buttons," you were running late. You were still new to the whole journalism thing, and if you were being honest you'd been late because you'd gotten stuck in your tech belt with a wire crossed where it definitely shouldn't and you couldn't get it undone alone. You'd rushed into the elevator and repeatedly stabbed the button for the floor you were supposed to be on in your rush. He shrugged simply, giving the blank buttons another slap.

"I don't think it's the buttons, we called for help before they died," he was right; the elevator had started moving before it had ground to a halt, and you'd been able to get through to the help desk, which was entirely unhelpful and had promised help wouldn't be able to get to you until after the interviews when security would be able to safely clear the mechanics for entry.

"In an arena full of mechanics?" Sebastian had questioned, sounding almost amused at the situation. But apparently being able to build a supercar and fix an elevator required two entirely different skillsets.

Sebastian, as it turned out, was an incredibly nice person. You'd crossed paths with him twice before, both for interviews lasting only a couple of minutes long. He'd remembered you, and the second the elevator had shuddered he was more concerned about making sure that you didn't start to panic than anything else. He gave up trying to spark some life into the button panel and sank down opposite you.

"I knew I should have brought my flask," you mumbled because not being sober in this situation sounded a whole lot better. Sebastian raised an eyebrow at you, a little smirk tugging at his lips.

"Do you normally drink before interviewing us? Are we that scary?" He was teasing you, but you could see there was a genuine interest in the way his blue eyes held yours.

"No, but a shot or two for dutch courage sometimes helps," he broke out into a toothy grin, nodding along in understanding.

"Yes well, some of these young drivers are very attractive. It must be distracting," was he teasing you?

"Not really my type," you said without thinking, your response bluntly honest. Sebastian didn't miss a trick, a gleam in his eye letting you know he was keeping hold of that piece of information.

"So you like the older guys?" There was nothing but simple curiosity in his tone, even so, you couldn't quite look him in the eye when you gave your next answer.

"Well, not total grandpas," you said. Your age you meant. More experienced, sensible, mature, but still young enough to have a sense of humour, to know how to show you a good time. You liked gentlemen. "Aren't I supposed to be interviewing you anyway?"

"Ha, please," he opened his hand in invitation and you mimed a microphone in the air, asking him a few stupid questions about the race and his performance, to which he answered with equally silly responses.

Seb, as you learnt he liked to be called by friends, was fascinating. Even his silly answers gave a little bit of himself to you. Every look he gave you was charged, every raise of his eyebrow or quirk of his lips perfectly calculated. And it was working, because you knew it wasn't just the confined space that was making the German increasingly more attractive.

An hour had passed. There was no phone service, you still couldn't get through to the help desk, and even your pocket radio wouldn't tune in. It was like you were stuck in a void. You groaned in frustration as the batteries on your radio stuttered out.

"This stupid thing," you grumbled as you pulled at the random straps and attachments in attempt to free yourself from the equipment. How Ted Kravitz was happy to walk around all day in his was beyond you. Seb was watching you struggle and slowly got to his feet, stepping closer to you.

"Hey, let me," he was very softly spoken as he stilled you.

His deft hands made short work of your belt. He carefully unplugged wires and removed clips and placed them slowly, one by one onto the floor beside you. Your mic and radio pack were the last things removed, so you thought Seb would step away but his hands were back on your waist. His hands were constantly brushing at the skin of your waist, only covered by the thin fabric of the summery dress you'd decided to wear that day. He undid the final buckle, his hands feather-light as he leant around behind you and you could feel his fingers drag across every centimetre of your skin as he finally pulled the belt off you.

Sebastian dropped the belt, but his blue eyes were fixed on yours as he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. You weren't sure if you were breathing or not.

"Are you trying to turn me on, or are you really that oblivious?" The words rushed from you in a breathless whisper. You froze for a moment, the fear that you'd made a mistake and were about to make the next god-knows-how-long incredibly awkward. Sebastian was painfully neutral in his expression as he regarded you, but he still hadn't stepped back and the smell of his cologne was fogging your mind,

"Oh, I'm trying," how he sounded so casual, just a hint of playfulness about him. You had no idea how to respond, was he teasing you? This man was a world champion, he could do whatever he wanted. There was an edge to that, the idea of the power he held, he was almost untouchable in the paddock. And it wasn't like he was a golden boy who kept himself out of trouble, Vettel had been handed his fair share of fines over the years.

"Right," you could see his back in the mirror opposite you, he was taller than you, shoulders stretching the fabric of his own polo. You looked helpless, backed up against the wall by him. He was looking at you now, eyes a little darker, trained more on your chest than your face.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No,"

The second the word left your lips Seb stepped forward, his body pressing against yours as he pinned you against the second mirrored wall. One hand was gripping your hip, with enough pressure to hold you in place. His other hand was already tangled in your hair, pulling you towards him as he captured you in a searing kiss.

Whatever kind, sweet, gentle nature you thought Seb had when he was interviewed had completely vanished. The man in front of you was kissing you like the world was ending. There was nothing gentle about him as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down. The was nothing gentle about the way his hands were roaming and grabbing at your body as if he was trying to mould you to his shape. There was certainly nothing gentle about the way he was rolling his hips against your thigh.

"Jesus," he managed to hiss as your mouth fell off his and you started attacking his neck, careful to toe the line just before you'd leave a mark on his skin. You decided to throw caution to the wind, because how many times do you find yourself stuck in a lift with a sporting legend, let alone such a handsome one? And besides, part of you wanted to be in that special club of people who'd known him like this.

You dropped to your knees in front of him, your dress providing a perfect view of your cleavage as you made quick work of unbuttoning the shorts he was wearing.

Sebastian groaned loudly as you took him in your mouth, the feeling alone enough to go straight through you. His hand tangled through your hair again, but he let you control the rhythm as he simply watched you bob your head through the mirror. The noises he made were addictive, and hearing him cursing in German was enough to make you want to finish him off like this.

But he was calling your name and asking you to wait so you pulled back oh so slowly, earning yourself another heavy hiss as you released him.

"I have to fuck you in that dress,"

It wasn't a request. But you didn't mind, you liked being told what to do. He pushed you back against the mirror again, lifting your legs and encouraging you to wrap them around his waist. Seb wasn't particularly tall but you always forgot just how strong the drivers were. He held you like you didn't weigh a thing.

His pace was bruising, and you were actually glad you were trapped in the elevator because there was nothing you could do to stop the near-constant stream of noise slipping from you, and he was equally loud. It was almost, almost, embarrassing at how quickly you were approaching your orgasm, but when Seb, oh so confident, let go of you with one hand and slipped it between you to start toying with your clit you were done.

"Seb-" you whined, his name so natural in your mouth. He was moving at a relentless pace, the pleasure almost overwhelming.

"You can do it," he forced the words out through gritted teeth as he watched you scream, your head falling back against the glass as your hips moved forcefully with him, your walls clenching deliciously around him as wave after wave of pleasure shot through you. You felt him twitch and he bit down on your shoulder as he came with a shudder of his own.

You stayed in his arms for a second, the pair of you breathing raggedly and trying to recover when something crackled behind you making you jump. The buttons on the panel were glowing again.

"Hi, it's reception, can you guys hear me? We're sending someone up now,"

it's always a good time to bring this photoshoot back up.

we might've forgot about it a little too soon.

Charles Leclerc x Vettel!Reader - Social Media AU

y/nvettel

Liked by sebastianvettel, mickschumacher, and 185,263 others

y/nvettel pretty sure i’m being bribed

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redbullracing we would never try to bribe you … but hypothetically is it working?

y/nvettel hypothetically i’m on a caffeine cleanse but the flowers are lovely 🫣

mercedesamgf1 “bribed” is so harsh, we much prefer “gifted”

mickschumacher what they said

y/nvettel i know you put them up to this, micky mouse

astonmartinf1 what could possibly beat our cupcakes?

mercedesamgf1 our chocolates

tipsytifosi nothing from ferrari?

scuderiaferrari keep an eye out 🔜

y/nvettel

Liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 197,615 others

y/nvettel many teams have tried to buy my love but only one succeeded by sending along a cute monégasque

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charles_leclerc all in a day’s work

arthur_leclerc has charles happened to mention that he’s had a massive crush on you since he was teammates with your brother?

charles_leclerc shut it, arty

y/nvettel did he really?

y/nvettel it’s just funny because i’ve had a massive crush on him since then too

charles_leclerc we were pretty oblivious

scuderiaferrari should we add “matchmaker” to our resume now?

forzafiona charles is called il predestinato for a reason 😌

charles_leclerc

Liked by y/nvettel, scuderiaferrari, and 968,352 others

charles_leclerc back in red where she belongs

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y/nvettel you made a good selling point 😘

scuderiaferrari is it too early to sign any future leclerc-vettel children to lifetime contracts?

feralferrari you guys are taking this whole matchmaker thing really seriously 😳

tifositalking it’s smart business trying to secure the next generation

sebastianvettel I may not be around the paddock anymore but I still know where you live and I take my big brother duties very seriously

y/nvettel halfway around the world and you still find ways to embarrass me

sebastianvettel I only do it because I love you, schwesterchen

*translated from german: little sister*

y/nvettel i love you too. even when you annoy me

charles_leclerc i promise to do everything in my power to treat y/n like a princess

y/nvettel you are the sweetest, schatz

the look of love —pedri

that one interview from iker casillas but make it pedri

players come and go, in a chaos of interviews and journalists trying to get a big headline. i spot pedri quickly and realize he's walking straight to me, waving and saying hello to a couple people on the way.

he looks beautiful, as always, but the aura that surrounds him tonight is one of confidence and true happiness and i find myself not being able to take my eyes off of him as he approaches.

the camera man gets ready and i welcome him, "hi pedri, thank you for giving us some time", i say while he nods to me.

"first of all congratulations on the title! i know it's really hard to put it into words but tell us how you feel right now, after winning the first trophy of the season with the club", i say with a big smile.

the way he looks at me always makes a mess in my stomach, because he is the definition of heart eyes but right now, with the thin layer of sweat that's covering his forehead, those red cheeks he always has whenever he plays, and that sweet smile that drives me crazy it's hard not to be all over him.

he laughs, high on the thrill that winning gives him and drunk in the sight of you, "yeah it's always very special to win with my club, and specially against madrid, but it's even more exciting now that i have you here to celebrate with me."

my eyes widen and he laughs even harder now, his eyes getting smaller with each smile. my cheeks are now burning red, while a thousand spiraling thoughts cross my mind.

i guess we can call that one hell of a hardlaunch.

then a second later, his hand is on my cheek, my microphone is out of the way and he joins our lips together in a quick kiss, he pulls away an inch, then gives me a peck on the lips.

i let out a small sigh, "t- thank you for the interview" i manage to say in my most profesional voice, as his hand drops from my cheek and swiftly grabs my free hand.

"te quiero" (i love you), he mouths as he walks backwards and turns to leave to meet his teammates.

he just fucking KISSED ME on live TV.

i end the interview thanking the people watching the channel for choosing us and then my camera man and who is grinning like an idiot lowers the camera.

"well you DID get a big headline", he says, while i just cover my face with my hands giggling.

i'm soooo gonna kill him for this later.

ive been so busy i don't have time/inspiration to write but imma post a lil story about my pookie oscar cuz ive been wanting to write about him for a while😭🧡

sunset –felipe drugovich

i had this dream about him and i made it a short story :)

we were looking at the sunset and his hand reached for mine, my stomach ached with anticipation, with desire. always looking for subtle clues, slight touches, stolen glances, that's how it was with him. and i knew i deserved more, but i still couldn't help to stop longing for him, for his love, for his attention.

our hands together he slowly drew me closer to him, and i wrapped my hands around his waist, resting my cheek on his chest. his arms were still for a moment, as if he were fighting a battle in his head to decide if this was right or not, but at the end he decided it was because i felt his arms wrap around me and his hand started slightly brushing my hair.

this was the closest we had been, my stomach was a mess of thrill and butterflies and love but also doubt because what did it mean? this sudden show of affection? was it a confirmation of his feelings? was i so blind for the need of him that my judgment was clouded and this wasn't that big of a deal?

i closed my eyes, trying to quiet my thoughts and just enjoy the moment. i got drunk on his smell, on the breeze in the terrace, on his firm heartbeat and the touch of his arms, of his hand on my hair.

he closed his eyes too, in that moment. he kept repeating to himself that this was a mistake, that he had to put an end to whatever this was. but he couldn't bring himself to get away from her. his hand couldn't stop brushing her soft hair. and the need was getting stronger and stronger, and he knew that couldn't happen. the need to have more moments like this, to be this close to her more frequently, to lower his head and look her in the eyes and kiss her and tell her that he was scared of how much she meant to him, that he thought of her all the time.

he lowered his arms and i opened my eyes. this was it, this fantasy was over. now he would probably act like nothing happened. but i wouldn't take it, not this time, not again. i was so tired of guessing if my feelings were mutual or not, if this meant something to him or not. i was done.

i took a step back and lifted my head slightly to look at him. i thought he would avoid my gaze but he was looking straight at me his brows a bit furrowed.

"what do you want from me?", the words left my mouth before i could overthink everything. a moment passed, our eyes locked but then he turned his head. he didn't say a word. my heart burned, every fiber of me was aching. i let out a shaky breath. he started to shake his head softly as he took a step back from me.

there it was. the all so familiar distance between us.

"don't", i spit with anger. "don't walk away." he didn't take another step, but he still wouldn't look at me. "tell me what this is. because i'm exhausted of looking like a fool", tears were threatening to run down my face and i couldn't help it. he seemed to listen and finally his eyes returned to mine. for a second his eyes burned with something close to hurt but then he managed to bring his blank face back, as if he didn't care what i was saying.

something glistened in me. i wasn't gonna back down now. i was gonna get my answers. "tell me then. because i refuse to keep searching for your soft touches and your furtive glances. you feel the same way as i do or you don't, felipe, it's time for you to talk to me", i breathed in. "i'm not falling for you if you're gonna keep acting like this. i'm not catching feelings if the other person doesn't feel that way too, i'm not doing that again." god knows i've had my heart broken in enough occasions because the feelings were not reciprocal and even thought i already felt strongly about him, i was not putting myself through that hell again. so if this was the end of whatever this is, so be it.

"again?", he narrowed his eyes, his voice low. his head hurt of imagining her in love with somebody else and getting hurt by it. but he couldn't do anything. as much as he didn't want her to be with anybody he also didn't want her to get his heart broken by being with him. "so go fall for somebody else." his chest ache after saying those words, but he needed to get her away from him.

a tear escaped from my eyes and i wiped it fast. "is that what you want?" i was pathetic, still being here, still looking at him and feeling a little bit of hope.

"it doesn't matter what i want", he shaked his head, and i was glad to see that his mask was starting to fall apart, his blank face was crumbling. "it's the best for you if you go and find somebody else", he said, raising his voice a bit, desperately trying to keep her at a safe distance. but then he froze when suddenly, he felt her hands cupping his face. his breath caught and he struggled to look at her when her face was so close to his, and their bodies were touching and when her eyes shined with hope.

"but i don't want somebody else!" i said, my heart beating faster and faster. "i want you."

his heart was about to explode, all of the feelings for her that he kept trying to ignore, blooming stronger than ever. he couldn't understand how she wanted him. how she was willing to face him and tell him all of this. she was braver than him,  time and time again she continued to amaze him. her optimism, her sweet yet fierce behavior. trying to stay away from her was the hardest thing felipe had ever done. but he was done. she wanted him, he couldn't keep denying that fact, and he wanted her, so maybe there was a chance. maybe this was different and she wouldn't leave him. the past had hurt him to the point of closing himself to the idea of falling in love again but maybe it was time to look to the future that she could give him. maybe she was really the one for him.

he closed the gap and kissed her fiercely, remembering all those times that he had looked at her while she didn't notice, all the times he found a way to brush his hand with hers, all the times he had imagined kissing her.

i kissed him back with every part of my being. too many times i had imagined his lips on mine, and it was finally happening. but no matter how i had thought of it, the kiss was a thousand times better, it was full with need, and also relief, it was like the wall that was keeping us apart had broken. he had broken it. he with his serious demeanor, and his necessity to keep his distance, he had kissed me.

we broke the kiss gasping for air, lost on each other. "i'm sorry", he said, our noses touching. "i'm sorry it took me so long to do that."

he was still a bit afraid but right now, with her hands on his face, her face this close to his, he allowed himself to accept this, accept his feelings and hope that she was different to whatever had happened with girls in the past.

she smiled, nearly blinding him by how radiant she looked.

"you're fucking right", i replied. he kissed me again.

no more mister shy guy.

OP x fem!reader

in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you

i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3

songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff

2.8k words

you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.

oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.

he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.

oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.

it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.

but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.

“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.

“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.

oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.

you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.

“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.

“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.

panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.

“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”

“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”

“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.

you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.

your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.

“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.

“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”

oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.

he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.

“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”

the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.

“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.

“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.

painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.

he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.

“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.

you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.

you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.

you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.

his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.

“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.

he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.

“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.

“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.

“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.

oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.

“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.

“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.

“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.

his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.

“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.

oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.

“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.

“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.

“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.

“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.

oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.

“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.

“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.

“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.

the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.

“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.

“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.

he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.

thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.

“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.

you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.

“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.

“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.

“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.

“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.

“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.

“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”

“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.

“there he is.” you sigh happily.

when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.

-

whoops? lol

-

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his face card alone has done more for this sport than some people's entire careers