#Honestly it's probably so big that it's annoying to get into or out of if you can't float

[so-writing]

Off Season 2 - Quinn Hughes

(Read the first part here)

He’s not easy to miss. 

You hear it instantly when Quinn’s oversized truck hauls ass into your normally quiet section of the neighborhood for the first time that summer. Unfortunately, the Canucks and the Devils missed the playoffs and you’re forced to deal with the Hughes brothers and their entourage much earlier than you hoped. It’s been several years since they moved in, one would think they’d be more respectful of their surroundings. 

They’re not though. 

Vehicle doors slam and the shouts of multiple people fill the once quiet morning air. It’s pushing 9AM, late enough for them to get away with being loud but early enough for the neighbors (read: you) to be irritated by it. 

Fairhaven spans the majority of the northern portion of the lake it shares a name with. When your parents built the home you live in now, there weren’t a ton of other people around. Now, nearly two decades later, the once empty lots are full, the open meadows are now manicured lawns, and boathouses dot the edges of the lake. The once empty streets are now lined with touristy shops, coffeehouses and diners. The once small town has developed into a small city and, for the most part, you’re fine with it. 

Growing up in Fairhaven was lovely, leaving for college and moving away was even better. You don’t dislike your hometown, but you never had any intention of coming back until your parents decided to buy an RV after they retired and travel the country in it. They didn’t want to sell, and you hadn’t secured a job post grad, so back to Fairhaven you went.

And, three years later, here you still are. Still living alone in your parents' big, empty house while they “vanlife” around the country. Still unemployed. You’re a work in progress, that’s what you tell yourself anyway. 

The urbanization of Fairhaven, oddly and specifically, ushered in more professional athletes than you would have expected. Most of them hockey players, three of them, the Hughes brothers. Unluckily for you, they bought the house next door and have spent their summers there ever since. 

You’ve met all of them at least once, Quinn being the one you’ve interacted with the most, and they’re fine, nice enough. It’s the chaos that they bring that really bothers you. The Hughes house has a revolving door all summer, with different groups of people constantly coming and going. 

It’s annoying but you tolerate it as much as you can. They’re only here for a short time. 

*

It’s awkward and you feel really, really dumb. Of course Quinn doesn’t remember you. He’s probably been introduced to more people in the last few months than you’ll ever be in your life, he can’t be expected to remember every single name and face. 

You can’t lie though, it does sting a little that he has no recollection of you at all, considering you’ve interacted a minimum of ten times. They’ve always been brief but damn, you’re a twenty-something woman living alone in a big lakehouse, doesn’t that suggest some mystery and invite intrigue on his part? 

Honestly, when you really think about it, probably not. Quinn likely doesn’t give a damn about mystery. It’s obvious when you look out on the lake and see him playing and partying on his boat with a bunch of women that mystery is very much something that doesn’t matter to him at all. 

You’re not jealous, not the slightest bit, it’s not like you started actively following the Canucks or keeping tabs on how Quinn’s career is going. You don’t even know the man, he could be an absolute nightmare. You’re definitely not jealous of the women that get to follow him into the house at the end of the night and close the door behind them while you sit on your porch nursing a glass of wine and wondering what’s taking place next door. 

Letting it go is for the best, you tell yourself. The hot neighbor is not and will not even be interested, and that’s fine. 

After a cold shower, hot cup of coffee and everything bagel with jalapeno cream cheese, you’ve put your latest interaction with Quinn in the past and have committed to finishing the first season of Real Housewives of Salt Lake City. You started watching two days ago but because you don’t have many other plans, you blew through it. Today was going to be no different, maybe you’d pause to take a walk around the neighborhood or go pick up a few groceries but there was nothing truly concrete to stop you from your housewives binge. 

It’s not as pathetic as it sounds, you tell yourself. You’re just a regular girl living in her parents house doing nothing except going running early in the morning and binging reality tv until she goes to sleep and repeats. 

You’re about three hours into your binge watch when a knock on the front door startles you off of the couch. You’re not expecting anyone so you ignore it. It’s probably one of those guys on segways with an ipad selling bug insurance or whatever the fuck it is.

After a few minutes of ignoring the bug guy at the door, he’s still being persistent as ever and the knocking hasn’t let up. He’s clearly determined to make a sale and you’re feeling particularly feisty after watching a fight between Lisa Barlow and Whitney Rose, so fuck it. 

“I’m not buying anything you’re selling,” swinging the door open, you don’t even give him a chance to get a single word of his sales pitch in. No fucking thanks. 

“Did you not see the no soliciting sign? Because it’s been posted for like twenty-five years at this point. Do you door to door bitches not know how to read?” 

The “bug guy” chuckles before taking a step back and throwing his hands up in defeat. He stands there for a moment before throwing his head back and bursting into laughter. It’s then that you realize the man knocking on your door isn’t a traveling salesman, it’s fucking Quinn Hughes.

You nearly trip over yourself apologizing. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Selling bug insurance, obviously.”

He’s being sarcastic and it should piss you off because he’s just interrupted your zen reality tv time and now he’s making fun of you, but you fold easily. You can’t help it. He’s so hot. 

“Obviously, I'm not buying. Did you need something?”

“I just wanted to apologize again, I know we’ve met, I was just being weird and panicking and in a mood. I fucking hate running. I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven, it’s fine.”

He lingers in your doorway a bit longer without saying anything before, “well ok, I just wanted to make sure we were cool.”

“We’ve always been cool.”

“Ok, good, yeah. So I'll see you tomorrow morning?”

“Yep, I always go out at the same time. It’s a date.”

What the fuck? Why would you say that? So dumb.

“Mhm,” Quinn shoves his hands into his pockets and turns to leave, “It’s a date,” he says without turning back to you as he cuts through your front yard to get to his own. 

The whole thing leaves you feeling mostly weird, kind of giddy and just a tiny bit hopeful. Maybe that whole mystery and intrigue thing actually does exist for Quinn. Abandoning the housewives, you rush upstairs and throw open your closet doors. The goal is to choose the cutest (without looking like you’re trying too hard) running outfit you own. 

After all, you’ve got a “date” tomorrow.

-

Note: unedited, fictional lake town, the first part got more attention than expected, thanks for the love <3

[mylochyboy]

Been rereading a bunch of mommy!Saxon fics and was struck by the most horrible(read delightfully evil) thought

Imagine the age gap between the brothers and bit larger, say 15 years and Lochlan is actually Saxon son.

Saxon accidentally knocks up his high school girlfriend. He tries to get her to abort it but she refuses. She doesn’t want to be a teen mom though and plans on adopting the kid away. Saxon eventually breaks down and tells his parents who go into crisis mode. Tim wants him to grow up and take some responsibility, not rely on his parents fixing everything for him. But Victoria insists that owning up to this would bring humiliation to the family, knocking up your girlfriends at 14 is not very becoming of a Ratliff! What would the people at the club say? Victoria schemes that to ensure no shame to the family she and Tim will adopt the kid and pretend it’s theirs. Victoria negotiates with the girlfriends and comes to an agreement, she goes away for a little while, Victoria pretends to be pregnant with pretend baby bumps and no one the wiser. Honestly she’s kinda enjoying the attention while pretending to be pregnant, everyone at the club are dotting over and congratulating her. “Yes isn’t it wonderful a happy little accident!”

Saxons not too happy with this plan, he really don’t want to have the kid around, he would love to just ignore this happened and never speak of it again. But he’s just a kid so he has no say in it.

Once the baby arrives he does his best to ignore it, pushing down any father instincts that emerge as far down as he can. But he has to admit the kid is fucking cute, I mean look at those curls. He’s pretty proud of how cute his kid is but that’s as far as he’s willing to admit to himself that he had anything with the child to do.

The first few years Saxon does a pretty good job of letting himself pretend that this is his baby brother, he mostly ignores the baby and just focuses on being a high schooler. It’s easier that way.

But when it’s time for him to leave for college, the baby is now a toddler. And Lochlan’s like a person now, he talks and has a personality, he’s obsessed with his older brother, constantly trying to hang with him. It’s annoying and a lot harder to ignore. Once Saxons in college and not living at home, he realises he truly does miss the little shit, as much as he tried to deny it that’s HIS baby. So he’s starts going home on weekends more, actually spends time with his son. His parents aren’t really at a point in their lives where they have the energy or time to take care of a toddler, Lochlans mostly raised by staff so Saxon takes it upon his to be the best ‘big brother’. Play with him, teaching him things, making sure Lochlan knows he’s loved. He goes home at least every other weekend, calls most nights to tell him goodnight and sleep sweet. They form a crazy bond, Saxon is Lochlans whole world. Piper(who has no idea) is so much older than Lochlan that even though she’s loves him they don’t really have anything in common. She’s really not interested in taking the role of mom for Lochlans and leaves filling in for their parents absence to Saxon

As Lochlan gets older their weird bond only grows stronger. Saxon is constantly trying to guide his son into being the best version of himself and giving him fatherly/brotherly advice while trying tiptoe too stay on the side of brother and friend. But obv he’s an idiot and he goes a bit too hard on the friend bit. Talking about sex and porn with him, like friends do, right?

Lochlans admiration for his brother and severe daddy issues are amped up even more than in the show.

Thailand happens just the same but obv Saxons even more disgusted with himself.

Does Lochlan find out the truth, how does he find out?

Maybe at some point before or after Thailand he figured out he’s adopted, maybe he finds some documents. He probably keeps this info to himself, tried to understand why his parents would decide to adopt a kid when they so clearly didn’t want or have time for another one. Obviously he doesn’t know who his biological dad is. Does he take that as encouragement, if he’s adopted he’s not biologically related to his brother, so that’s not true incest, it’s not as bad. Tries to ease Saxon with it at some point. “Sax don’t worry where not actually related so it’s fine.”

But Saxons knows, he knows it’s so much worse.

[beabakx]

ranking patti lupone’s albums because i love her and have nothing to do! 🥰😝

1. patti lupone at les mouches!!!!!

absolute comfort album i swear i love it so much! there is not one song i don’t like/love and i absolutely ADORE her little giggle and thank you at the end of the songs!! she’s so cute im gonna pass out 😭

fav song: meadowlark!!! literally my safe song every time im anxious i listen to it on repeat and its the only thing that calms me down i love it so much!!

2. the lady with the torch!!

love love love the vibes of this album it makes me feel like i’m a cool ass middle aged rich woman who just got dumped and whose only way to move on from the loss of her lover is to sip whiskey in front of the fireplace while listening to old vinyls :-D

fav song: guess i’ll hang my tears out to dry!!! i love her voice so much in this and its also one of my comfort songs 😝

3. matters of the heart!!

i love how there are both ‘serious’ or emotional songs and silly ones, like shattered illusions or i never do anything twice!! one second i’m sobbing to look mommy no hands, and the next im singing at the top of my lungs to i regret everything 😔

fav song: My father/look mommy no hands! I ALWAYS FUCKING BAWL MY EYES OUT I RELATE TO THIS SO MUCH I CANNOT ☺️

fav silly song is either shattered illusions or i regret everything

4. don’t monkey with broadway

i really really like this i love her live songsss i would kill to be at one of her shows and i am NOT kidding. and i also love her voice as she got older its honestly so cool 😼

fav song: If (you didn’t but you have)! i love jule styne’s music and i love it when she sings songs were she has to speak super fast and then hit really high notes, that’s like my biggest guilty pleasure if i may

5. far away places

i already said i’m a sucker for her live songs and this album is probably the reason. idk if it makes sense to yall but to me it’s like her voice here is transitioning or sum from when she was younger to now and im in love with this woman 🤗 only thing i don’t love is this version of ‘i regret everything’ cause it doesn’t really speak to me like the other one. i actually didn’t know if i should have put this n.4 or 5 so i put it here just because i’ve been listening to the other one for a little longer!

fav song: pirate jenny! such a cool song i can’t even lie i’m a big homo for songs with this vibe!!

6. a life in notes!!

honestly pretty strong and absolutely iconic album. i have to say that i have a love-hate relationship with the parts where she just talks because I LOVE THEM as i feel like im actually at a show if hers, but sometimes they can get annoying if i just want to listen to the songs 😖(i have created a playlist in which i only had the songs so it’s not that big of a deal really).

fav song: come on-a my house!! it awakes something FERAL in me like yes baby i am coming to your house and i am never leaving😏

7. heatwave

i really like it but its a genre i have to be in the mood to listen to unfortunately 😔 SHES A DIVA IN THAT PICTURE THO?!?!

fav song: hostess with the mostes’!

8. the lady with the torch… still burning

its probably weird for me to put the lady with the torch n.2 and this one last but it’s not that i don’t like it i just absolutely forget about its existence so i very rarely listen to it but when i do it’s AMAZING!!!!!!! 🥲

fav song: primitive man

[baphometsss]

if i see one more post about how solas/mythal/elgar'nan had a weird love triangle thing going on i'm gonna scream

[light-wrath-paradise]

Animorphs Book club book 8

My reaction can be summarised as this (yet again):

I don't have many thoughts because uh. That was depressing as hell and I need to stare at a wall.

But I DO gotta say that the subplot with the dead "wife" was so telenovela-esque that for a good minute it was more funny than depressing. Then it got depressing. But it was so jarring and so far out of the left field that for a good second my friend and I had to pause the audiobook and laugh because ????????? Unhinged to just appear, go "I am Eslin, I have a G U N. My secret wife was killed. By my boss. Now I yearn for sweet sweet revenge." and not elaborate. Like. Damn dude ok. Sorry about our wife also. Fucking killed me that he continued like "So anyway I reacted adequately by killing all of my boss' friends. Starvation style." Like ???? Jjhsgdjsdfghsjdfh what????? I mean damn I do respect the grind set but also that's such an absurd escalation out of context. Did your boss kill your wife? Kill all of his friends! And in context the most absurd part is probably the notion that Visser 3 has friends??????? Like??? Wait no Eslin. Eslin wait. I love your John Wick-esque "fridged wife" trope swag but you need to slow down. I need details. I need you to tell me HOW your boss even has friends.

In my heart I do not believe we will see that madman ever again but on god I do wish for an insane telenovela-esque sequence of him just showing up at the most random moment to do exactly one thing and that's to pull a gun on Visser 3. For no reason, I just think it would be kinda funny. Like,,,did your boss kill your wife?:

Kill all of his friends

Acquire a G U N

Attempt to make the local Andalite youth assassinate your boss for you

Pull the gun on your boss

???????

Profit (probably die)

Aside from that, I also need to say that the moment when Ax called Tobias his close friend at the end was so sweet. Also ngl kinda...concerning/harrowing how much Tobias really doesn't give a shit about not being a human. Like it doesn't seem so concerning from other points of view but the way Ax gets increasingly weirded out by Tobias not asking him about the nothlit (idk if I'm spelling that right rn) really reminds you that it IS kinda worrying. Like I get it, I mean...Tobias has no family that cares about him, he has no friends outside of the Animorphs friend group, why would he care? But it's still kinda...yeah.

Also unimaginably surprised by the amount of collective guilt present in the Andalite society. You'd think they're Catholic or something the way they keep beating themselves up and force everyone to also beat themselves up and their system itself is saturated with the guilt and shame and they teach it to kids at school from an early age. Like. Jesus Christ calm down. Stop that. As the Animorphs said at the end of the book - the Andalites made an oopsie once. It sucked, yes, it continues to have consequences that suck, yes, but it happens. Sometimes you think you're doing something kind and it turns into a disaster. That does not mean you should beat yourself up for it or, god forbid, tell other people that they should not be kind lest they make a mistake. Damn I guess we should all be cold assholes forever, huh? I'm sure that can't have any negative consequences.

Andalite society in general seems kinda unhinged. Like...do I get why it is like that? Yeah. But do I find it unhinged? Also yeah. Like ok duty and the collective being the most important things is totally sensible for a prey animal. Safety of the herd and all that. But it's still kinda unhinged that they do make everyone have duty as their number 1 priority and that they have rituals devoted to it. Not all rituals are spiritual or religious in nature, but the morning ritual is kinda...borderline religious in a way. More spiritual than religious, I suppose, but yeah.

Also I love Ax so much. 10/10 character. He has it all: an incredibly hilarious desire for cinnamon buns, the inability to act like a human being (same dude), spitting random facts at completely random times, a thirst for blood only a 13(?) years old could have, a dysfunctional obsession with duty and doing what is right that only a 13(?) years old could have (also lol yeah dude I was like that when I was 13 too. dw you'll grow out of it), he can even code. And he might even be bi (I'm joking but I' referring to the fact that he was like "Yeah so when I morph into a human form I suddenly agree that Rachel is beautiful and that Marco is cute.").

[froschli96]

you know, i always find it really funny when dudebros complain about syndicate and odyssey being too "jokey" or not "taking its characters seriously" or whatever…

like, did y'all collectively sleep through "it's-a me, mario!", "i meant besides vaginas", ezio inventing the latte, bartolomeo's... just... *gestures vaguely* entire character, etc?

like, it's fine to have preferences of course, i myself prefer a more serious and grounded tone, but these are usually the same people who tout the ezio trilogy as "peak assassin's creed", call ac1 a glorified tech demo and hate on connor for being "too serious and boring", like? make it make sense!

[bonestrouslingbones]

i finally got an idea to make fluff's outfit just a little more "papyrus" (aka just a bit more faggy) but i haven't even tried to draw it out yet because i cannot for the life of me figure out how to represent low-rise pants with fishnets underneath on a fucking skeleton

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

good lord my brain is running laps and i just wanna knock it out and get some goddamn sleep

[supercantaloupe]

ah yeah it's saturday and the school year's started. explains the protesters on my way to the metro station

[phinjeet]

* continuing 2 deal w my emotionz by giving them 2 the characterz

[solarpixie99]

.

[yerchokito]

PRETTY KITTY TURNS PRETTY HORNY .ᐟ FT SATORU GOJO

synopsis - finally you decided to adopt a new friend at the adoption centre! only, he wants to be more that friends…

warnings - p in v, brief oral sex (fem receiving) unprotected sex, slight manipulation(?) creampie, shitty smut, petname: master used mockingly, not thoroughly proofread, talk of potential children, lowk masochist gojo, ect ect. fem reader

notes - yay I finally got this out! lol it honestly did get a bit sloppy at the end but I wanted to get this out b4 christmas!enjoy! the smut is lowkey short but I don’t want to fix it..

edit - I just realised I posted this on his death date

Phew, you did it.

You finally grew a pair and adopted a newly rescued snow-leopard hybrid! After months of your self-pitying you managed to convince yourself to adopt a friend!

You spent many, many hours contemplating on whether to actually adopt. And many hours more watching sad videos on hybrids, how mistreated they are out of the adoption centre.

That was more than enough to convince you.

Now you have an exotic hybrid of your own! And he’s just the cutest little—er big thing! He’s got fluffy little ears, a handsome face, striking blue eyes, and the fluffiest tail in the world!

You’ve learnt a lot about him. His name is Satoru Gojo, around the same age as you! Unfortunately, he spent a lot of his life in illegal fighting rings. Poor thing almost got killed a while back. Luckily, his caretakers at the agency have had no aggression problems with him! He’s affectionate, friendly, reckless at times, but overall great to have as a first time owner!

He’s really—really big. His head just about reaches the ceiling of your small apartment. It's gonna be hard finding clothes for the man. Let alone a bed.

But that’s all a problem for future you!

Packing him in the car was a hefty thing, his tallness being the main problem, a little cramped (he had to lay half his body on the floor) but it worked in the end!

As soon as you bought the little—uh, big critter home, you pampered him with affections. Petting his head, rubbing his ears, scratching under his chin all that stuff that makes him mushy in the brain!

The only problem would be leaving him alone… he’s fairly clingy. You’ll just have to work on that. He seems capable enough. Hopefully…

Note to self: get a baby cam.

˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗

Maybe this was a mistake.

Satoru’s a really good guy, he’s friendly, definitely affectionate and really clingy. All good qualities that you love about him!

But, there are qualities you come to… dislike, so to say.

He’s bratty. defiant against your house rules, a back-talker.

He always wants attention. Pushing things off counters or using his tail to block your eyes whenever he wants to annoy you.

He’s very manipulative. Using his wide eyes to trick you—or anyone—into giving him sweets!

He’s also unbearably horny, probably his worst trait. Always trying to rub against you, heck even mount you! For someone so angelic-looking, he sure ain’t an angel.

And you can name a couple of… embarrassing incidents.

Incident #1

“Hey—Toru! What are you doing, stop that!” You shout, trying to push him back and away from— wait, are those your panties he has in your mouth!

“Satoru! Bad boy, get those out of your mouth!” You splutter, face flushing red.

But, apparently you adopted the devil.

He tilts his head in an innocent way, ears flopping to the side as he deviously munches on your precious—and very expensive—underwear.

You try to wrestle them away from his maw, unlucky for you, you’ve also adopted an abnormally tall hybrid. His innocent act drops as he dangles them above your head, laughing at your embarrassment.

Of course, he gave it back. Not without it slicked in his spit and now turned crotchless.

It was… not a great moment for you or your hopes of being dominant over him.

Incident #2

It’s a nice sunny morning, you got up earlier than your alarm, made a nice breakfast, and finally got that darned work assignment finished.

A peaceful day.

Until your precious kitty takes his biting urges on you.

“Satoru, do-don’t bite meee!” You whine, once again trying to push away the snarky beast. God, why must he be twice your size.

He chuffs, pining you with his weight as he nibbles at your skin. Tail swaying mischievously behind him.

“Mn—be still, lemme jus’…” He whispers. Devious man he is. His nibbling becomes full-blown bites, decorating your neck and collarbone in a bazillion bite marks.

Satoru only giggles at your pathetic attempts of squirming away. Pfft, you think he’ll let you walk away? Nothing gets away from his keen eyes.

Needless to say, the bite marks were not a fashion statement at work. Didn’t really capture as many complements as it did laughter.

Note to self: Invest in a muzzle.

Incident #3

Now, maybe this is your fault. You did notice the change in behaviour, he’s always been clingy— the staff at the agency did say he was… the possessive type. But! You didn’t notice the possessiveness until now! So it’s not entirely your fault.

Okay, maybe his growling at your friend— male, should you note— was a teensy red flag, the constant butting of his head against you was also alerting you. So you maybe-sorta-should’ve predicted this.

Maybe if you realised that Satoru is not entirely human (even though he acts like it), you would’ve remembered he has an amazing sense of smell.

“aaahnn… mornin’ Toru’, how did you sleep hm?” you yawn. The lack of response is unnerving, and rude.

“Hey now, ts’ not nice to ignore me, Satoru.” Again silence, wait—what the-?

“Oof! Satoru—gah!—get off!” You struggle, your overgrown hybrid kitty has decided to pounce on you, his full weight crushing you.

“H-hey—oh!” Did.. did you feel that correctly, is your boy.. oh gosh.

“Mrrow…mn, you smell s’ good.” His breath is hot against your neck, sniffing at your throat, his fuzzy ears rubbing under your chin.

“Mnh—heat, in heat? mrr..” He purrs, big hands encasing yours as the big idiot rocks his hips against your backside— oh my.

“H-huh? No, down Satoru! Bad boy—ooh!—don-don’t!” You try not to moan out as he ruts against you. Licking at the nape of your neck, almost mockingly.

“Heh— shh, I’ll take care of ya. Aw’ you’re so small compared to me..” Satoru breathes, chuckling like he always does.

…

Lets just say, Satoru has become real good friends with the spray bottle.

Note to self: Get him neutered.

˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗

And there are way more incidents as… sexual as these ones. You love the big guy, he’s cuddly, got a fuzzy head, really warm, but he seems to really enjoy mounting you. Like, really badly.

He’s become a menace! I mean, you knew he wasn’t neutered, but you didn’t think he’d be interested in you!

It's almost everyday he tries to get in your pants! Gotta hand it to him, he’s really persistent.

Well, you won’t be taking any of his nonsense today!

“Satoru! Breakfast!” You yell out. You hear him scurrying around the corner, jeez food fein.

“Heh, mm waffles..” He purrs at your feet, nuzzling against the back of your knee.

He wraps his tail around your ankle, hands gently kneading at your leg. Nose twitching at the sugary smells.

“You hungry, sweetie?” You coo, petting the big oafs head.

Awh, maybe you’re being too harsh on him. He’s your baby, he doesn’t know any better!

˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗

Oh who were you kidding, of course he knows what he’s doing! Why are you so gullible?

What was supposed to be a nice, calm, peaceful, non-sexual breakfast, ends up with your mischievous kitty munching on your pussy instead!

He’s got your legs up, knees having small-talk to your shoulders whilst he —quite literally— devours you.

“Satoruuu!— don’t do thaah! Oh!” You squeak. You weakly push on his head, trying to get him away from your front.

Unfortunately, Satoru is a determined cat.

“Mnn, be still. M’ hungry.” He purrs between your legs, the vibrations of his voice send tingles up your spine.

For Satoru, that delicious nectar leaking out of you is heavenly. Until this thin, pathetic piece of fabric ruins his meal. If only he could just…

rripp!

“H-huh? S’toru! Those were expensiveee— haa!” You scold. well, try to. It’s hard to speak when you’re literally breathless.

He tongues at your now naked pussy, slurping all that gooey goodness you so graciously produce. So sweet.

He pulls back, your cunt and his mouth connected by a sloppy string of spit. He coo’s and presses a kiss hard against your clit, making you twitch and moan.

Out of the corner of your eye you see the devil incarnate smiling so sweetly, his tail curling around your ankle. What was once a sweet gesture is now no longer reassuring.

Your ‘innocent’ kitty now has free rein to your more… primal parts. The stronger scent pulls on Satoru’s will, he whines at the sudden, yet aggressive urge to bury himself inside you.

Hmm maybe he should.

Hoisting himself up, Satoru leans back on his calves, admiring the little mess he’s made of you. Flushed red, panting, drooling, and completely high on the pleasure. His pants tighten.

He’s been blessed with such a cute owner!

˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗

Plap! Plap! Plap!

“Haa— d’aww don’t be so shy, master. Heh—fhuck!” Said the devil incarnate, mockingly.

Satoru is a condescending bunch, cute but really full of himself. It’s shows in his way of fucking.

He has you on your back, legs resting on his broad shoulders as he literally folds you in half. Your head is just reeling, your face is covered in his spit, hairline all sweaty, jaw hanging open, and you're burning all over!

His cock is big, too big. It nearly split you in half when he tried to fit it in. He’s never been a patient kitty.

“Awhhh— masterrrr, you’re tightenin’ up sho’ muchhh…” He purrs. Tail swaying mockingly.

Leaning forward, Satoru nuzzles his ears against your cheek, wanting to be pet.

Unfortunately, you’re incoherent to his requests. Too focused on the harsh rutting of his cock into your sticky cunt.

“Heyyy… pet meee,” He whines, “Hm? Heh— tappin’ out already?” His eyes gleam with mischievous-ness as he grins a toothy grin. You’re not gonna make it out alive.

He bites his lip, giggling at your pleasured face. If only he could take a picture, save this moment forever. He cups your face, caressing your sweaty cheeks, then presses a loving kiss to your lips.

“Mwah! Hehe— you’re so cute,” He whispers against your lips.

In midst of this somewhat sweet moment, the pace of Satoru rolling his hips against you increases. Then turning into him full on slamming his hips into yours, huffing as he focuses on pounding you into next week.

All you can do is grip onto him, tugging on his ears. He moans pornographically, drooling as you harshly grip his sensitive ears. The painful yet pleasant sensation sparks something new in Satoru.

With the intent to breed, Satoru turns you over. His chest to your back as he leans his weight on you, arms wrapping tightly around your sweaty skin.

This new position gives Satoru a better chance at giving you some cute mini him’s!

“Oh! Oh!—Toruuu’!” You squeal, tears now brimming in your eyes at the overwhelming feeling that is undoubtedly him.

Without warning, you cum. Hole clenching and spasming and coating his lower body in a translucent liquid.

“Hm—hah— I knew you wan—ahn—wanted me!” He mewls, quickly pounding in and out, creating a wet ‘schlick!’ sound.

Oh you’re so perverted! Letting your precious kitty take you like this!

You’ll never live this down.

Satoru doesn’t seem to care.

“Oooh— m’ cumming, nng— masterrr!” He moans, non-stop humping into your creamy pussy, drooling all over you.

“Not—not insideee! Toru’!” You cry out, pushing your hips back to get him off of you, it does the opposite.

His tail wraps around your thigh as he cums. It splurts frantically inside of you, his cock twitching violently as he whines in pleasure.

It’s hot, sticky and definitely a thick load. It feels endless, liquidy rope after rope. But it feels so refreshing.

He pulls out (you didn’t think he would), nuzzling and purring at the nape of your neck. Innocently licking at your tear-stricken cheeks.

…

It’s been so long since you last experienced this pleasure.

You’ll definitely regret this later.

˗ˏˋ — ˎˊ˗

Oh god, why did you do that!

Having sex with a hybrid is just a different type of low, even for you!

Oh jeez, you're just as perverted as him! Oh whywhywhywhy! He was just supposed to be a companion! Not a—

“Mrr, pet meee..” Satoru whines, pawning at your chest. He’s back to his old self again.

Mostly. He’s become more… confident in his abilities over you. Let’s just say after your regrettable (not in his eyes) playtime with him, he has no restraint on mounting you now. The idiots even started humping you in public!

Which is why you’ve been leaving him at home.

Now more than ever, you two spend a lot of time together. Mostly consisting of naps, him licking you, more naps, eating… recreational activities, blah blah blah. He now sleeps on your bed, he’s more like an overstayed one night stand than an exotic cat.

At Least he’s extra cuddly!

[madamechrissy]

Worst Behavior

Art in the center by Houhai673 on lofter

pairings- stepbrother! Sukuna x f! Reader & Toji x f! reader

summary - Sukuna’s dad married your mom while you were in high school, and you hated each other on sight. He endlessly picked on and tortured you. So much so that he became a fucking YouTube sensation from prank videos starring you! You come back home for summer break after a bad breakup, and of course annoying ass Sukuna is there, with his stupid smirk, ready to pick on you again, only to be derailed when he sees you're going out with his old friend Toji for a date. Turns out, Sukuna has had it bad for you for a long time, and making you hate him was the only way to guarantee you stay far away, but can he keep up the act?

content/warnings - MDNI, tw- stepcest, lots of pining, kinda one-sided lol, Sukuna is an asshole to you, reader hates him. Enemies to ????- ton of sexual tension, jealous ass Sukuna. This chap- fingering, squirting, a little bit of degradation, jealousy, unspoken feelings, pining, sexual tension, MORE panty stealing lol??? Sukuna being a WHOLE mf yandere, he's lwk psycho and toxic, Toji being hot- wc - 6.9k

<<<part one

part two

“What’re you even doing in here?” You tug back a bit, but he just drags you back down, and soon you find yourself completely straddling him right over one of his big ass thighs in the middle of the night.

Your heart races as he runs his thumb across the mark Toji left, humming softly as his red eyes hone in on the spot, his other hand right on your hip. When you involuntarily whine out, you bite your lip and curse, you can’t let him think you like this! You don’t like it, do you?

“Sukuna, are you fucking drunk?” You whisper, remembering both of your fucking parents across the hall, he exhales, his breath ghosting over your breasts, making your nipples press against your bra, glaringly apparent. You don’t want to admit how good his hand feels on you, nor the sweet ache between your thighs.

“Am I drunk…” he sighs, feeling your heat right on him, pressing his thigh up harder to watch the effects on your pretty face, furious that someone touched you.

He’s always mad when you date, when you get new boyfriends, he can’t ever say it, so instead he just scares the shit out of them without you knowing. But Toji sure as hell wasn’t one to be scared off by him, and he didn’t even wanna know how far it went with you both, if he knew Toji, he probably went as far as you would let him.

“Why do you care if he touched me?” Your question barely registers, still staring at the giant bruise forming on your neck, his fingers pressing on it until you gasp.

“Did you cum?”

“Sukuna!?” You smack him right in the face, honestly making him leak pre, he’s already hard from your cunt on him, the stinging of his cheek and your little scowl makes it worse. “The fuck?”

“Fucking brat,” he grips your wrist then, brutal and tough, you’re trembling at the sensation, the pricking pain of his grip, hand enwrapping it now. “Ya like smacking me, don’t ya?”

“Your face is extremely smackable.” You jerk back your wrist, tits bouncing in that bra, he doesn’t bother to hide the way it affects him, slipping his fingers down your bare tummy then, making it tremble when you feel the roughness of his fingers.

“So, did you cum?” He asks again, voice deep and incomprehensible, scowling right at you now.

“You need to know? Yes, I did. Your friend has thick fingers.” He exhales, and before you can think, he’s got you lifted up on your knees, fingers brushing you over your panties. “Ah!”

“Slutty little brat,” he huffs, slipping two fingers underneath your waistband, feeling the drooling wetness pour as he barely brushes your slit with the backs of them now. “Why are ya so fucking wet still then?”

“C-came s’much,” you’re rocking your hips, fingers pressing against his chest now, as if to shove him away, but your body is not listening. Your eyelashes flutter shut just a bit while he smirks up at you like the asshole he is. “What’re you doing!?”

“Gonna see how slutty you are, step sis-”

“I swear to god!” You smack him again, but you don’t move your body away, no you spread your thighs, letting him slip two calloused fingertips up and down you, from your hole to your clit. “You’re a freak.”

“I’m a freak, huh?” You nod again, glaring, acting like you’re not dying to have them inside you, but he knows you’re full of it, as your cunt soaks him with just his stupid fingertip.

“Messy little thing I bet, tch.” He’s shoved the panties aside now, sliding two in deep, curling them to the knuckle, you scream out, before he uses his free hand to cover your mouth, raising a slutty ass eyebrow - why is all of Sukuna slutty!? “Want your mom and my dad to hear you scream?”

“F-fuck you, don’t want you,” you’re mumbling against his palm, spreading your thighs fucking wider, as you feel him pressing that spongy spot, pressing up and down over and over. He hits this delicious fucking pressure, you can hardly stand how good it feels, the pleasure spreading through your body. “Don’t want you.”

“Sure ya don’t, but your slutty cunt does. Smack me again, huh? Watch what happens,” he’s whispering those words as he looks up at you, his eyes dark in the dim lights that just your little strand above your bed holds, flashing as he pumps them in. “Bet I make you soak your bed.”

“You’re so annoying and… fuck you… and…” You’re screaming into your own palm this time, as he uses his ring finger and his middle, making lewd fucking squelching noises, over and over, up and down. It’s too much pressure, you jerk away then, and he sits up, tugging you back.

“Ah- ah, don’t run from it,” fuck can he stop talking like that!? Could your cunt stop liking it so much? “I just wanna know how much my slutty step-sister cums.”

“Don’t call me it, freak, you’re- i’m gonna pee, stop!?” You’re hissing the words as his fingers go quicker, cunt gushing down them, down his palms to his wrist, when you hear it - fucking footsteps echoing outside your door, shadows moving across underneath where light shines through.

“Never cum forreal then, huh?” You’re panicking then, but Sukuna is smirking like the shithead he is, fingers not stopping despite the clear presence of one of your parents out there.

“You’re so s-stupid.”

“Can hear your messy cunt across the street, probably woke ‘em up.” You almost slap him again, but you don’t want to make noise, instead leaning forward, biting the shit out of his neck, sinking your teeth into his skin. He hisses at it, tensing, his fingers halting for a moment. “God, ya think that hurts? You’re so pathetic.”

“I hate you,” you’re grinding against them, cunt pulsing and gripping his fingers as you hear the water running, cursing internally at the situation he has put you in. “Get out of my r-room.”

“I like your bed, it’s comfy,” you’re laying across him as he’s relentless, you feel it starting, so intense you wanna stop it, biting his neck again to muffle your cries, while his free hand yanks at your hair. “Cum, now.”

“No!”

“Now.” You bury your face, shaking your head again. “Stubborn fucking brat, do it now.”

“Fuck you, hate your fingers - hah liked Toji’s better- ah!” He’s done then, he leans back and angles his fingers just so, and hits so deep you’re shattering, cumming so hard you barely muffle it with two hands.

You’re squirting down his fingers, he moans softly at the feeling, the sight he can barely make out as he pulls back, looking down and seeing his hand coated as your eyes rolled back. You’re gushing everywhere, he didn’t even expect it from you, almost cumming from the sight, swallowing nervously and allowing one moment where he didn’t talk shit.

He never thought he’d get to touch you.

“F-fuck…” You’re tightening up now that you’ve released, cunt gripping him and sucking him, making him wonder just how good you’d feel around his cock, he eases them out then, eyeing you under his pink lashes.

“Made you a fucking wreck, look at you, aw.” You’re scowling but you’re shaking violently from it, whining as you’re now empty, he puts them right in his mouth, sucking you off them then, his cheeks hollowing.

“You’re nasty, I swear to god Sukuna.” He chuckles now, yanking your hair so hard you gasp, your slick all over his lips.

“Calling me nasty huh, when you’ve got your cunt all over me? All over your bed too, couldn’t help yourself?”

“Shut up,” he’s right next to your lips, threatening to close the distance, you feel the cool air of your room hit your bare cunt, feel the mess you made. “Doesn’t mean shit.”

“No? Did you squirt for him too?” You look away, making him tug your hair even harder. “Asked ya a question.”

“Shut up.” He’s chuckling, infuriating you to no end, sighing as he looks down at your lips now, brushing his saliva coated thumb across them.

“Couldn’t hold back, could you, bet you’re still drooling out of that little hole,” you shake your head, as much as you can with his firm hold, as he exhales, the breath hurting your bitten lips. “Seems like Toji didn’t get you off enough, not when you made that much of a mess.”

You shove at him now, when he presses your back on the bed, flipping your positions. You suck in a breath when he tilts his head, running a hand down your body slowly. “What’re you doing? Thought I was a gremlin, huh?”

“You are, and a mean little brat too, short stuff.”

You pinch his nipple now, making him glare down at you, jaw clenching. “Yeah, roided out giant.”

“You’re talking a lot of shit for a girl who just pissed on me.”

“I did not!?” He covers your mouth with a palm again, torturing you with his other hand brushing your panties back over, soaked and sticky. You grip his wrist, brows lowering in a scowl.

God he wants to tell you you’re gorgeous, that you’re so sexy he can’t get his fucking mind off you, that your taste is so good he wants to bury himself against your perfect cunt. But he can’t just say that, can he? Be vulnerable when he finally gets a chance to see you like this, feel you like this, he can only smirk down at you and taunt you into a pretty furious glare.

“Why don’t you stop me?” He whispers, husky and lewd in your ear as he leans down, rubbing your soaked, sticky panties against your cunt.

“Shut up.” You’re arching your hips, hating him more and more with every touch, every breath.

“Loved cumming for me, bet you played with your pussy thinking about it.”

You scoff now, shoving at him, his stupid heavy weight feeling far too good. “Hah, you fucking wish, I never have.”

He exhales, his breath ghosting across your collarbones, as he eyes your tits in your lacy bra. “Yeah I don’t believe it, saw the way you looked at me when we first fucking met.”

‘This is Sukuna,’ your mom was introducing him to you, you’re exhausted from finals now, yawning from an all nighter, when you see him.

He’s stupid tall, well over six feet, so tall your head falls back to catch sight of him, with insane red eyes and a face that is far too attractive. His lips are parted, eyes wide when he first meets you, you’re literally in a big sweater and some shorts half asleep as your first introduction.

He looks a lot like his dad, and you two have gotten along well so far, of course you miss your dad, but a long time has passed and you want mom to be happy. But you’ve heard about his son, he’s a little older, in the college you’re going to next year, he honestly is hot as fuck, but you shove all that down. You clear your throat, looking down at your feet now, nervous.

‘What’s up,’ he manages, eyeing you intensely, the way you shift your hips, how you tug on your sweater nervously. ‘You’re fucking short.’

You gasp, glaring then. ‘Everyone must be short to you, jolly pink giant.’

‘What now, brat!?’ his fists clench, as you raise a brow, and your mom sighs.

‘You two are going to be family soon, maybe you could try the introductions again?’ you crush that hope when you run upstairs, and slam the door.

You can’t stand that boy.

The memories hit, of being told a stranger was now family, of being so enamored with his looks you were shy, only to inevitably learn the asshole your ‘stepbrother’ was. That was the beginning of the two of you hating each other, the pranks started coming along a few months later.

You hate him, remember?

It doesn’t matter if he’s got your cunt pulsing around nothing, it doesn’t matter if you are thinking of licking yourself off his lips. You can’t fucking do that, you can’t and shouldn’t want it, especially with them in earshot from you two. His teeth sink into the soft flesh of your breast then, you’re gasping out at it, tugging at his hair, his huge hands squeezing your ribcage.

“What’re you doing,” he pulls up then, eyes unreadable in the dark, lips leaving trails of saliva when he pulls back. “Gonna leave a mark.”

“Good, I’ll add to your collection.” You smack at his head now, he just grins and nips the spot again.

“Weirdo.”

“Freak.”

“Me!? Whore.”

“Slut.”

“Ugh!” You’re biting back another moan when he sucks your flesh into his hot mouth, and you're lost, hands entwined in his silky pink locks.

“Fuck…” it's his turn to lose it, to rut his leaky cock against your mattress, as he grips a tit in his hand, squishing it. “Would ruin you.”

“Ruin me, yeah whatever. Sukuna you’re so full of yourself,” you bite back a moan, wishing he didn’t feel so good on you. “So you can use your fingers, what’s it matter? Go away before you bruise me.”

“I’ll leave a better mark than him,” he’s pulling back again and you see it, a blossoming bruise forming across your skin, his white teeth flashing. “Much better, will last for weeks.”

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” He tugs your bra down, lips capturing your nipple now, you let out a squeak he chuckles at.

“Ya sound like a dumb hentai ad when you moan.”

“Oh I am so done.” You shove the big ass man until he rolls, falling on your floor and cursing, you tug the blanket up — embarrassingly covered in dark spots from your cum — leaning over to watch him curse, all six foot five of that man sprawled along your carpet.

You laugh so hard you snort.

He stands then, quickly leaning over you and gripping your chin, cutting off your laughter so quickly, your heart pounds in your chest, you can hear the blood rushing in your ears when he leans so low. You struggle to find that hatred, those years of anger at him in that moment, when you just want him to kiss you.

“You’re an annoying little brat, ya know that? Should make you cum till you’re covered in tears,” he’s swiping his thumbs over your cheeks, your lips part with desire at the words. “Till you can’t move, can’t sit, can’t fucking walk anymore.”

You say nothing then, because you’d be fucking lying if you acted like you didn’t want exactly what he was whispering. Your eyes shoot up to his, the ruby ring the only remnants of his red color with his pupils blown out.

“Why would you want to? With me, a fucking gremlin, a stupid brat, huh?”

He pauses, swallowing, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, you two hear the door to your parents room shut, echoing with a resounding thud, and he pulls away finally. He walks over to the door, carefully opening it and peering out, he looks at you with an unreadable expression before he just leaves with no word.

What the fuck was that!?

You sit up then, taking off your bra and ruined panties, tossing them in the hamper and walking over to your dresser, snatching out a big shirt you stole from Sukuna years ago to sleep in. You look at yourself in the mirror for a moment, trying to fucking process just what happened with him, before shoving it down, feeling awful about it.

You can’t feel that way, you have to forget whatever it was, whatever he did to make you cum harder than you ever have. And how it would have just taken another couple of touches on your body and you’d have fucked him right in your bed, Sukuna of all people!?

The fan overhead does nothing to cool you down, a thin sheen of sweat sticky on your brow, when you eye something on your bed in confusion. Black panties you had on earlier, you pick them up as you’re about to make your now messy bed, then look in horror when you see it.

Did Sukuna cum in your panties!?

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

*****

Breakfast is as awkward as you can imagine, he’s already done a prank on you when you walked out of your room this morning, laughing like a dick when you try to snatch his phone up. You haven’t been on his stupid channel in some time which has been pretty nice, but here he is, torturing you after the asshole decided to jerk off with your used panties?

You can’t say anything, your parents have friends over already, it’s supposed to be a pool party for the holiday and everyone’s here. Family, their friends, some of your friends and Sukuna’s start showing up too, and god if he’s not even more obnoxious around them. Your girlfriends are fawning over Sukuna like they always do, when you all are dressed in your bathing suits and everyone starts grilling out.

You could almost enjoy it, almost have fun if it wasn’t for the fact that Sukuna made you squirt last night, and every time he raises a slutty eyebrow it’s like he remembers it. Every smirk and flick of his tongue on his lips damn near confirms it, while he’s shirtless in swim trunks, his stupid chiseled body glistening with some oil your friends slathered on him.

Fucker loves the attention, pretentious ass.

The doorbell rings when you’ve run inside to grab beers and seltzers to bring em out to the cooler for everyone, you set down the heavy packs with a huff, opening the door and then smiling when you see Toji. He’s got trunks slung over his forearm, those glossy lips tugged up at the corner as he leans against the doorway.

“Hey doll, I’m late as shit.”

“It’s fine Toji, I haven’t even gotten in the pool yet!” You lean up and kiss his cheek then, feeling the stubble brush your lips.

“Tease,” you giggle and he kisses your lips instead, a hand on the bare skin of the small of your back. “You look so hot in this, fuck.”

“Thank you, I didn’t know if it looked okay,” you pull back to tug at it a bit, and his mossy green eyes slip down your body. “Sukuna said I look like a gremlin like usual.”

“Sure he did.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes, stepping inside and eyeing over your shoulder. “Want help with those?”

“Yes please.” You feel bad suddenly, knowing Sukuna had been knuckles deep inside you last night, when you really wanna get to know Toji. He’s so stupid and fucks everything up constantly, far even for him.

Forget it all.

Toji lifts em then, bringing both cases out for you, Sukuna really has the audacity to glare at him, just earning Toji’s smirk when he finally introduces himself to your mom, she is friendly as she always is. Sukuna’s dad is not as friendly, he may be much nicer than his son, but you see where Sukuna got all the attitude from, but Toji literally gives no fucks.

He smirks right at everyone, wrapping an arm around you then, you can feel Sukuna’s eyes just burning holes in your back when you’re pressed against him. “I gotta go change real quick.”

“Sounds good.” You peck at his lips this time, a quick nervous one with so many eyes on you two, it’s not like you’ve ever had a boyfriend very long with Sukuna torturing and scaring them all away.

“He’s hot!” Your friend comes up to you and says, you giggle and nod.

“Surrounded by hot men, let me be you,” your other friend is pouting, looking over at Sukuna. You shake your head. “Oh you know he is. You just can���t say it.”

“He’s gross and a dick. No thanks.”

“You’re gross too, brat.” You jump then, how’d he get so close so fast!?

“Yeah, well not as gross as you, creep.” You shove at him then, when the asshole drags your ass in the pool. You rise up and sputter as he throws back his head and laughs, the cold ass pool chills your skin, goosebumps raising. “I hate you!”

“Yeah, whiny ass brat, I know.”

“Don’t laugh!” You scowl at all of them, they hide their giggles, but even your parents are holding back a laugh. “Help me out.”

“Oh, fine.” He bends down, reaching a hand when you snatch his wrist up and tug his ass in too. He’s sputtering just like you did, big thick ass floundering so hilarious you die laughing.

“Hah! How’d that feel, dick!?” You shove at him under the water now when he hauls you up in the air and throws you across the fucking pool like you’re a volleyball. “Ugh!”

“How’d that feel, brat?” He taunts, soon everyone is just laughing at the two of you, deciding to all hop in aside from your step dad who’s grilling, and your mom sipping a beer and laughing still at you.

“You’re such a jerk.” You mumble when he steps closer, you’re shivering still as the cold water rushes over your skin, hair in strings from how wet it got.

You’re beautiful.

He hates that he thinks that way about you, that you’re the only person he’s thought that singular word for, when he just threw said girl across a damn pool, and all he can see is how the sun illuminates your pretty skin. How it glows under the soft light, the way your eyelashes are spiky and dripping water. He wishes it was just those pretty titties bouncing up and not more.

He swallows as you scowl, like you always do. It’s not as if he’s given you any reason not to do so, aside from that pretty fucked out look he can’t get off his mind last night. The way he desperately sucked your juices that remained sticky on his fingers and jerked it again to you, only to see Toji with his arm around you and want to fucking cut his hand off.

Sukuna has always been this way for you, but it gets worse, and the problem is he doesn’t feel guilty, not for wanting you when he met you already grown up. He doesn’t feel whatever ‘family’ shit his dad wants him to because you’re not really, but he already knows how awful you feel. The way you have avoided him all day, not like he helped pranking you this morning.

How else can Sukuna even show his affection? Aside from just being a dick all the time, aside from taunting you and tossing you in pools? It’s not like it’s returned, he’s not even sure if last night was real, you actually letting him touch your perfect body, the one so close he feels the heat of it even under the cold water undulating around your pretty tits.

“What are you looking at?” You demand, with your bratty voice that just makes his dick harder, crossing your arms under your tits.

“Just that you look like a drowned rat.” He smirks and lies - not telling you that he finds you the most beautiful thing in existense, that your friends don’t have shit on you, that literally no one does.

He can’t say it, it makes it worse, what even could happen if he did? It’s not like you don’t have years of hating him behind your belt, and now you clearly found someone even he can’t scare away. The thoughts of you being with someone else makes him sick, he wants your cunt to remember his shape.

He looks down now, the mark he left just barely apparent where your little bikini top slipped down too much, precariously trying to bare a perk nipple. You look down then, swallowing audibly as he salivates damn near. It takes everything not to make a public spectacle and bring your body against him, grip one of those pretty tits and swipe a thumb over that mark.

You tug your top to further cover it, blushing furiously. “What’s wrong, huh? Something bothering ya?” 

“Nothing at all, was a mosquito bite. I hate mosquitos, such pests.” His scowl makes you smile that much bigger, when you eye Toji climbing in, your friends hone in on him this time, whispering about how big he is so loud he can even hear. He’s chuckling when he steps up, you turn away from Sukuna to head across the other side of the pool when he tugs on your wrist. “What?”

He leans low, lips against your ear now. “New nickname instead of gremlin or short stuff.”

“What’s that?” You glare at him as he grins.

“Waterfall.”

“Oh I can’t stand you!” You yank your wrist as he chuckles like the infuriating jerk he is, instead going over to Toji who hands you a drink. “I need one, thank you.”

“Mmm, no problem doll. I think your mom likes me.” He waves at her now, you smile.

“She does!”

“Sukuna’s dad always thought I was getting him in trouble,” he’s known Sukuna way longer than you, since they were in middle school. Toji takes a sip of his beer then, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “It’s nonsense.”

“But you were trouble! I’ve heard stories.” His lips quirk, that scar stretching just a bit as he looks down at you, standing dangerously close.

“What’ve you heard hmm?” he’s leaning against the pool wall, the scents of the grilled food start flooding your senses now. Your tummy rumbles, making him laugh just a bit. “Hungry?”

“I didn’t eat breakfast because stupid ass Sukuna pranked me.” He snorts a bit at that, drinking some more as you eye Sukuna’s dad flipping the burgers. At this point your grandma is pretty drunk, shouting your name across the pool, you smile and wave back at her.

“So what did you hear?” He waves at your grandma too, making you laugh.

“That you two were breaking into your teacher’s room after school, and taking shit. Oh and you all released like a hundred chickens at once?”

“That was end of the year pranks, it was all Sukuna. I got dragged into it.”

“Uh huh sure.” He brushes back a little bit of your hair, drying from the warm sun, before brushing a finger across your cheek.

“You think I’m the bad influence here, doll?”

“I think it was a team effort.”

“Hmm…” he trails off, and eyes Sukuna, staring at the two of you for just a moment with an unreadable expression, before he’s back to talking with his friends. “I guess we both were little shits, but he’s still one.”

“You can say that again.” You peek back at Sukuna, who flips you off, earning a middle finger right back.

“You two are so close y’know.”

“We are so close.” Your words are teasing, but the memories hit again, the memories you would rather keep completely under lock for the rest of your damn life, refusing to acknowledge they exist.

The cook-out goes on, your grandma at some point is being just a menace, she’s flirting with people you kinda love that for her. Your aunt is stoned off her ass, getting yelled at for smoking a blunt by your mom, it’s a typical get together. Sukuna is throwing a foot ball around the yard with a bunch of your little cousins, and something about that gives you pause.

Big ass jerk Sukuna, smiling and tossing a football with kids is arguably adorable, he played extremely well in college, so well you thought he may go pro, but you suppose youtube made him rich so he just went with that. You don’t know as much about him as you suppose you should.

How can a man be so fucking infuriating, really?

As everyone starts to leave, Toji is getting changed, dragging you into the bathroom when he opens the door and you’re about to get changed yourself. You giggle when he does, he lifts you up like nothing and sits you on the sink, your hands grip his strong shoulders when he plants a kiss on you, you still smell the scent of chlorine from the pool and the mix of the coconut scent of the sunblock.

Your body is all jello from the pool and the heat, the perfect feeling for getting kissed by him. You lose yourself in it for a bit, quiet smacks of hungry lips, his hands gripping your waist. He pulls back a bit and presses you closer, you’re blushing when you feel him under his shorts.

“Another date, what ya think doll?”

“I’d love one.” He smirks and kisses you again, a little more hungry, and to be honest you have very little experience thanks to your annoying fucking ‘step-brother’, so you’re a little nervous as your hand trails down his chest.

“Ya gonna jerk me off in your parents bathroom? Really?” He’s taunting you, and you pout now.

“No, now that you said it that way!”

“Shit, no, bring it back.” He’s tugging your hand back down as you giggle just a bit, curiously touching his thickness - and fuck he’s thick. You bite your lip and he kisses you again, rutting his cock against your hand, just the thin material of those gray shorts as a barrier. “Fuck…”

“Mnh…” You’re crying out into his lips when he’s running his fingers down your breasts, tugging at your bikini top.

That’s when you really panic.

What if he saw Sukuna’s stupid fucking mark!?

You two aren’t exclusive or dating yet, but still! And imagine explaining - oh yeah, my dickhead stepbrother fingered me last night! Oh and he came in my panties, it’s all very silly hehe! - Yeah no.

Now you have time to think about it, when the door knob twists, and you pull your top up a little nervous, blushing. “Use the other bathroom!”

“Just get out brat.” You scowl now, hearing his voice, and Toji’s cock twitches in your hand, you realize you’re still stroking it.

“Go to one of the others!?”

“Then I’ll drip through the house.”

“Oh god.” Toji chuckles and you about could hear a fucking pin drop.

“Is that Toji in there?”

“No! That was me.”

“Out, now.” You’re so irritated, you’re twenty one not a fucking baby anymore, Toji helps you down and opens the door then, to a furious Sukuna, just an inch taller than Toji and a half inch broader maybe. “What are you doing in there?”

“I was helping her unhook her bathing suit, calm down buddy,” he pats Sukuna on the shoulder with an easy grin, looking back at you. “I’ll call you about that date, I’m gonna head home.”

“Sounds good Toji,” you smile and give him another kiss as he walks off, leaving Sukuna glaring even more intensely, like he’s gonna fucking actually kill you. “Sukuna, I'm not a baby.”

“Tch, are you serious?”

“Yes, I am. I am tired of you acting like some big brother, you’re not, okay?” You shove him now, and that’s when he’s locked himself in the bathroom with you, making you gasp, reaching around to grab the knob, only to be turned and pressed against the counter, facing the mirror.

His big arms, lined with thick black tattoos wrap you then, his hair is this dusky rose color from the dampness still on the thick strands, huge hands slipping around your body, taking you over. Your head falls back, eyes meeting his and narrowing, he’s tugging that bikini top down until your breasts spill, bouncing just so for his vision, and you feel it - his hardness on the small of your back.

Momentarily frozen, you finally gather yourself, pushing at his stupidly strong arms to get them off you, just making your tits jiggle more. He grabs one, thumb brushing over your bruise, you ignore the wetness between your thighs, the memories of last night flooding your stupid brain.

“Sukuna, the fuck?” He leans lower, gently plucking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, his breaths hot against your cheek as your heart races.

“You fucking him, huh?”

“What’s it matter if I am? What do you care, panty thief.”

“I didn’t steal them, tch,” he squishes a breast in his huge ass hand, rough and calloused, hurting so good you want more. You arch without meaning too, earning his exhale, while he studies that spot in the mirror hungrily, thumb pressing it to make it hurt even more. “You left them on the floor, you’re messy. Your cunt and your room.”

“You’re such a pervert, why were you in there!?”

“You probably liked what I did, huh? Freaky little slut…” You’re done for when he finds you, toxic ass Sukuna feeling your slick cunt over his fingers, rubbing and groaning softly, barely a breath, tickling the shell of your ear.

“You call me a slut? Look at you,” your head falls back against his hard chest, hips moving up and down. “Can’t stop touching me, why? You don’t even… mnh… find me… attractive…”

“Hah, you’re fucking stupid too,” he rubs your slick bottoms, feeling the sticky arousal pool and drip. “What are you so wet for, him?”

“Yes, him, finally gonna - ah - get some without you blocking me, you f-fucking psycho…” you wish you weren’t close from him rubbing you over your soaking wet bikini, wish you didn’t love him licking the side of your neck. Wished his stupid smile wasn’t so attractive in that mirror.

“You wanna fuck Toji so bad, huh?” You moan into your palm now, the other hand braced on the polished marble of the sink, eyes fluttering shut as he presses that material up between your lips. “Asked ya a question.”

“Y-yes I do. Don’t want you.” You yank his hand off then, before you go too far, but he just slips his fingers in your mouth instead. You suck on them without fighting it at first, as he watches your lips wrap them, leaking hot sticky precum against your sun warmed skin. “Fuck off Sukuna.”

“Such a liar, you’ve always been.”

“Me!? You.” You turn now, shoving him back, just making him bend at the waist and lean low, thumb brushing your lips. “What's been your problem since you came back? Some new form of torturing me?”

“You torture me, constantly.” You blink in confusion shaking your head then, as his eyes are so bright red they’re hard to look at. He cups your face, it feels so small in his big hands then, as your breath catches.

“How do I torture you?” Your voice is a hushed whisper, your tits are hastily shoved in your top, while you realize he’s just seen all of you again. You’re shoving him harder, but he doesn’t move. “Answer me, how have I ever? You’re the bully.”

“You’re right, I’m the bully,” you are so confused by him then, he sees it on your pretty face.

You don’t even know the torture you’ve put him through all these years, can hardly be with someone because of you, the times he has, he’s just thought of you or pictured you. Being too beautiful, too fucking perfect, smell too good, feel too good, fuck he even loves your voice. He loves your writing he’s found snooping pathetic in your room, he loves how sweet you are to everyone but him.

He loves how mean you are to him.

“You really don’t know shit about me, huh?” You blink in confusion again, tilting your head, he’s too close, his hands are on your face, yours are wrapping his thick wrists.

It’s too intimate.

More intimate than his fingers inside you, to look into his eyes like this, not mocking or taunting, but so serious as they study your face, as they dart all around your face. You bite at your trembling lip, unsure of just what to say in that moment, unsure of everything you know. 

Why do his hands feel so good? Why does the way he’s looking at you destroy you?

“You just hate me, huh?” You swallow nervously, looking down. “Look at me, brat, look at me when you tell me.”

“You have been horrible to me since the first day we met, how did you expect me to like you?”

“Right,” he pulls back then, letting you catch your breath, his fists clenched at his sides now. “Of course that’s what you think.”

“You’re confusing, hitting some fucking quarter life crisis?” You expect a smirk, a chuckle, a scowl, not the tensing of his jaw, not the way he’s looking down at you right now. “I’m not a slut, either.”

“No?”

“I’m a virgin, you dumb ass.” He falters now, swallowing nervously.

“You’re a what?”

“Make fun of that too, hard to fuck when your jerk ‘step brother’ threatens every man you like just to make you miserable.”

To think he could have you first makes his cock throb then, it’s toxic and horrible, and if Sukuna was a good person he’d feel terrible. But all he can think of now is how badly he wants to be your first, fuck your only, have you cumming so good you pass out, but he’d keep going. Nothing could stop him once he finally got you, when he finally busted in your pretty cunt.

He’d put so many kids in you, you’d never leave him.

He’d feel bad about that too, if he had a conscience, but when it comes to you, Sukuna is so obsessed he doesn’t care. He’s had cameras in your room before, he’s jerked it to fuzzy dark videos with hints of your tits. His collection of your things is so ridiculous, you’d probably be shocked where all your little things went, locked in a box under his childhood bed.

He should feel bad, but how can he? How can he keep going, and not have you, not mark every part of your body?”

“Nothing mean to say about it?” You ask now, trembling with his study, so intense it’s hard to breathe, the vulnerability of admitting that fact makes you nauseous.

Why is he just staring!?

“Say something, something mean. I’m a loser or whatever.” You’re damn near begging him to, but he doesn’t, instead he almost tenderly dances those fingers across each cheek, down the sides of your neck, watching you tremble under his touch.

He exhales in that moment, the movement tantalizing in its slowness, drinking in your scent, remembering your taste. He hears your quick, skipped breaths, sees the way your lips part as you feel his touch. You’re surrounding his every sense, clouding his mind further and further, while those fingers brush the gentle slope of your bare shoulders achingly slow.

“Sukuna, say something.” You need it, an insult, a dick comment, something to return the normalcy of your relationship.

But he doesn’t.

“You’re just gonna stare at me?” You shove at him, of course he doesn’t move, he just sighs, leaning too low, towering over you.

“No loser touched you huh?”

“No, because of you, idiot.” He smiles just a bit, making you even more curious that it’s his response. “What would you give a fuck for?”

“You’re right, I don’t care.” He walks right out of that bathroom, and you scowl at the door, before splashing your face with cold water that runs from the faucet, then sinking on the floor, hugging your knees.

What the fuck was he up to, some elaborate prank!? Or was there something you’re missing? It can’t be that he… feels anything. It’s a joke, you convince yourself of it, maybe you’re gaslighting yourself, but you can’t allow it to be any sort of truth, and sort of reality.

Fuck Sukuna.

*****

Sukuna’s got another pair of your panties, he doesn’t think you’ll miss them from the hamper, cursing at how much he hates you as he strokes his cock again that night. Why do you make him pathetic!?

‘Oh, ya think I’ll take it easy your first time, hah - that’s real cute’ Sukuna’s picturing it, his sooty pink lashes shut, as he lays in his bed and jerks his cock, whimpering as he runs his thumb over his tip, picturing taking you, fuck he’d have you cum on his face so much he’d drown.

Then he’d have you begging and pleading, only to fuck into you, take your virginity, make sure you would never want anyone but him. He can’t do it, he’s already going too far, being so fucking disrespectful and horrible, but he’s jerking it faster to the fantasy, of making you not hate him, of having you fucked out and whining, gasping and drooling.

‘Gonna ruin you, fuck up your insides, yeah?’ He can’t stop it, the obsession with you, but instead of you sleeping peacefully, you find your thoughts drifting to him as you toss and turn in your bed.

You can’t want him.

You shouldn’t want him.

You don’t want him.

Right?

tagsss- @sukubusss @quinny23 @flowerymenendez @valleydolli @gradmacoco @lolliibunny @chosolover32 @tiredasiandaughter @nanam1nz @sukunabish @valentinegab3 @heichouaack @throwmethroughawindow @mizuwki @omkookie @lemonadesforsale @dannaya @maybe-a-bi-witch @fl4weriesworld @karvokr @pillkits @yummycastiel @fl4weriesworld @kitty-yaps @kitassecretgf @deathrye @musiclover2119 @goldenfawnwriting @sttaejoon-blog @lil-cinn @keiiate @sageosimps @paradisestarfishh @ohohostinkyyyyy @blitziwitch @b0nez9 @sukunaforlife @mihauh @gojodickbig @ashlantismorning @erenspersonalwh0re @uncertainlyours @t4ters @msniks @lnette04 @salemsays66 @chxngminji @poopooindamouf @hellovanie

[el0wyn]

Honestly obsessed with the "Humans are the cats of space" corner of the whole trope.

We may be seen as objectively adorable. We're tiny predators, vicious and mighty with teeth and nails, but also easy to pick up and hold and swing around while saying "Babyyyy"

We're quiet and sneaky in the wild, hard to catch and contain, very effective hunters and climbers. But when domesticated who wouldn't just lounge around if we're given free food, unlimited sleep, and constant enrichment?

And same with cats, there's a variety of how humans act and feel about these huge creatures taking care of us. Some of us might be very chatty, very affectionate, some probably clingy if we trust our Alien enough. While others don't screw with their personal space, would scratch and bite if you do something they don't like. The affection is at their pace cause otherwise you'll come out with a few scars.

As small as we are, the more wild independent humans have the strength and means to take down predators so much bigger than us when the situation becomes dire enough. There's been cats who've gotten dogs, wolves, and bears singlehandedly.

A human that's been in an alien family long enough would probably chase off a huge threatening space creature to protect the alien young, just as cats have done for human children.

Imagine after a few years of integration with aliens, some humans don't get by well with taking care of their children so they find an alien that looks responsible and careful enough and they leave their young on their doorstep so they can grow up with all the food and shelter they could ever need.

Maybe they have a human distribution system where a person who's just tired of the human world picks a ship to stay on, and the aliens on board just accept it because that's how humans are. Maybe they help provide pest control for those space creatures small enough to hide in hard-to-reach areas of the ship.

And even amongst all this agility and predatory instinct, humans can still be pretty dumb and airhead and ridiculous. Imagine how hilarious aliens would find it when we get jumpscared or sneeze or feel the random need to stim and run around. Alien puts a long sticky parchment on that crevice of our backs that's hard to reach and watches as we struggle to reach and take it off cause it's annoying, same way we might put tape on a cat's head. Maybe they find the funky way a human mom tries to carry her too-big baby funny the same way a mom cat dragging her too-big baby by the scruff is funny.

Maybe there's a language barrier, but Aliens notice our odd human sounds and mimic them to get our attention, but they struggle with the different sound and pronunciation we just hear random gargled calls of "Molasses!" "Tree!" "税金!" when they're just trying to greet us. And you learn to recognize the pattern of noises that mean whatever name they gave you in their language.

Humans really are just big cats.

[windyremedy]

reeling revelation

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

scenario: finding out their bestfriend is a dad in the most unexpected way possible.

Time constraints and lack of availability are impossible to avoid and meeting up since after highschool had only gotten harder and harder. Each time they actually got close to hanging out, someone suddenly has to cancel because of either work related issues or whatever else it may be. Though everyone’s understanding for the most part including Mina but her in particular quite frankly had enough.

So when Bakugou called Kirishima up explaining that he couldn’t make it after 4/5 of the Bakusquad members attended she just couldn’t let it happen again and so she and really all of them were graciously invited (totally did not whine and beg) to the Bakugou household which doesn’t happen very often.

Last time anyone came there was back when they were just starting out their pro hero lives. It was honestly a surprise to everyone aside from probably Midoriya that Bakugou got married so early but they were invited to your wedding and from what they could tell you were super nice.

When they finally knocked on the huge door they were expecting everything else but an unimpressed look of what seems to be a mini Bakugou, almost a mirror copy of their best pal’s expression who did not inform them that he was now a dad.

Although he wasn’t a complete copy and paste with most of his facial features being from his mom and mainly baby Bakugou’s hair being a different color but his eyes, oh they knew that sharp ruby stare from anywhere. It was actually kinda worrisome how he seemed to pick up Bakugou’s temperament at their antics. Maybe they would even feel kinda intimidated (as much as you can with a baby at least) but he looked too cute all bundled up in an all might themed suit with a white pacifier in his mouth.

“Bakugou! you never told us you had a baby?” Mina excitedly exclaimed, squealing from the cuteness.

“Yeah! I thought we were your best buds??!!” Kaminari dramatically shouted in betrayal.

Bakugou shuffled Ryuu to a more comfortable position after the little one turned away from his loud friends.

“Didn’t know how to bring up and well you never asked.” he answered busy handling Ryuu who was getting more agitated by the second.

“So it’s our fault you never shared this big fact about your life?” Sero half joking half wryly asked.

“Yeah, you dumbasses would fuckin— shit nevermind.” He tried to recover placing his palms around Ryuu’s ears.

“Why is he so annoyed already? don’t tell me you’ve been talking bad about us?!! don’t hate me baby Bakugou.” Kirishima pleaded.

“S’ names Ryuu and he’s not mad at you, just thought it was his mom at the door. Come in before he actually kicks you out.”

“You mean you kick us out?” Kaminari corrected.

“Yeah, yeah.”

As they stepped inside the house they took notice of the evident amount of family pictures along the walls and on cabinets. Both admiring and unnerved about seeing Bakugou look so soft in all of them. They’ve seen many expressions from Bakugou before some more than others (like annoyance and anger) but this was a wholenother level they weren’t at all used to.

Leading to the living room where building blocks can be seen scattered across. They each took a seat around the area, Mina asking about your whereabouts as she sat.

“She’s coming back soon, supposed to be here today but her work called this morning and she had to come in.” he informed going into the connected kitchen.

“Ohhh that’s why you couldn’t come.” Kaminari solved albeit a bit late.

“Yep, sorry about that.” he apologized although not sounding at all affected by not being able to meet up with his self proclaimed friends (they are friends).

Grabbing a bottle of milk from the fridge as he fed it to Ryuu who sleepily closed his eyes.

“Bet you didn’t want to anyway. I mean I wouldn’t either, look how cute this little guy is.” Sero admitted getting cute aggression from Ryuu’s chubby little cheeks.

Bakugou only nodded, half heartedly listening to the conversations while chiming in once in awhile before getting back to rocking Ryuu to sleep. Who seemed to be dozing off before he jolted up after hearing the familiar ring of the doorbell.

“Hold on a second.” Bakugou briefed before going to the open the door, not knowing he was being secretly followed.

“Hey Kats.” you greeted lovingly as he pecked you on the lips, hugging you in the process as well as Ryuu whose arms signaled that he wanted to be handed over for a hug too.

“Hello to you too my little dragon.” you smiled as he wrapped his small arms around your neck.

Standing there by the doorway both of you failed to notice the scooby stack happening behind the corner of the doorframe sniffling at the domestic sight.

“This is so beautiful.” Kaminari sobbed.

Kirishima nodded in agreement. “What a manly sight indeed.”

“I’m so proud of him.” Mina whispered whilst shedding a tear.

Setting aside the dramatics Sero smiled, happy for his friend. “He definitely made it.”

©windyremedy

[cressidagrey]

White Horse - Chapter 15: March 2024

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.

She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.

But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.

Warnings and Notes: 

we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Discussions of toxic past relationships, talk about loosing a childhood pet, toxic families, Me trying to write therapy sessions.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Gianpiero Lambiase

Isabelle: Hi GP, Um. This is Isabelle. Belle. Max’s Belle. Sorry for texting you out of nowhere. I hope it’s okay.

GP: Hi Belle. It’s okay. Max talks about you enough that it feels overdue, honestly.

Belle: Oh. Good.

GP: He’s very annoying about it. In a way that’s almost endearing.

Belle: Haha. Sorry.

GP: Don’t apologize. What’s up?

Belle: So… I’m in Bahrain. And I want to surprise Max. Like, sneak into his hotel room before he gets back from practice. Very harmless. Very stealthy. Zero crime.

GP: Did your doctor clear you to travel?

Isabelle: Yes. I have a note and everything.

GP: Because if you’re here without medical clearance and something happens, Max will kill me. And then probably reanimate me and kill me again.

Belle: I promise. I’m cleared. I’ll send you the doctor’s note if you need it.

GP: Good. Because if I was going to help sneak you in, it needed to be a guilt-free crime.

Belle: You’ll help?

GP: Belle, if surprising Max with you magically appearing in his hotel room gets him to stop moping around like a man whose soul was ripped out, I will personally carry you upstairs myself if needed.

Belle: You’re very good at emotional blackmail. I respect that.

GP: I learned from the best. (Max.)

Belle: Okay. I’m at the hotel now. Should I just wait nearby?

GP: Yeah. Give me 10 minutes. I’ll text you when the coast is clear.

Belle: Thank you, GP. Really. I know you didn’t have to.

GP: You’re good for him. That’s all I need to know.

***

The hallway was dim and quiet when Max stepped out of the elevator, still half in race mode — muscle memory from practice laps thrumming through his veins, sweat drying at the back of his neck.

He dug for his key card automatically, mind already turning toward data reviews and hydration schedules, as he opened the door of his Hotel room. 

And then he looked up.

And stopped dead.

Because there, lounging on the couch in his Hotel room in Bahrain, wearing a loose fitting dress, her hair damp from a shower she must have just taken - was her. 

Belle.

Waiting for him.

Max blinked once.

Twice.

He genuinely thought, for a heartbeat, that he was hallucinating.

"Hi," she said, smiling — a real smile, tired but so real — like she hadn’t nearly died two weeks ago, like she hadn’t ripped his heart out and stitched it back together in the same breath.

"Hi," Max said hoarsely, voice cracking slightly.

She stood up slowly, careful, and Max could see the faint traces of bruises still painting her collarbone under the neckline of her dress.

He didn’t think.

He crossed the hallway in three long strides and gathered her into his arms, pulling her against his chest so tightly she squeaked.

Belle laughed — a soft, breathless sound — and buried her face against his shoulder.

"You’re here," Max murmured, like he still couldn’t believe it, like he had to say it out loud just to make it real. "You’re actually here."

"I missed you," Belle whispered into his shirt. "I wanted to surprise you."

"You’re going to kill me one day, you know that?" he said, laughing wetly against her hair. "Heart attack at 26."

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, hands still clutching the fabric of his shirt.

"You’re not mad?"

"Mad?" Max shook his head, jaw tight with emotion. "Belle, I’m—" He broke off, swallowing hard. "I’m so fucking glad you’re here, I don’t even have words for it."

Her eyes shone a little too brightly, but her smile was steady.

"I’m cleared to travel," she said quickly, reading the worry still written across his face. "I’m fine. I’m okay."

Max leaned down and kissed her forehead — a soft, reverent brush of lips — before resting his forehead against hers.

"I thought you were at home," he said, voice low and rough. "Resting."

Belle gave a tiny, guilty smile.

"Technically, I am resting," she said. "Just... here."

Max huffed a breathless laugh — half relief, half something too big to name.

"And how exactly," he murmured, pulling back to raise an eyebrow at her, "did you sneak into a fully-booked F1 team hotel?"

Belle bit her bottom lip, eyes sparkling.

"GP might have helped a little."

Max stared at her for a beat — then burst out laughing, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

"Of course he did," he said, voice shaking slightly with laughter and something dangerously close to tears.

Belle beamed up at him, utterly unrepentant.

"He even texted me like it was a spy mission," she added proudly. "I think he had fun."

Max shook his head, still smiling, overwhelmed by how much he loved her.  

"He's going to regret that when I promote him from race engineer to full-time Belle smuggler."

Belle laughed, wrapping her arms tighter around his waist.

"You’re not mad?"

Max kissed the top of her head, breathing her in like he still couldn’t believe she was real.

"Mad?" he echoed. "No. You’re here. You’re safe. That’s all I’ll ever care about."

She tucked her face into his chest, and Max just held her there — steady, grounding her, grounding himself.

***

Arthur spotted her near the Ferrari hospitality entrance, and for a long second, he honestly thought he was seeing things.

Isabelle —

Here?

In Bahrain?

He frowned, confused, slowing his steps.

She wasn’t supposed to be here.

No one had said anything.

She hadn’t said anything.

Not in the family chat.

Not in any of the bland, polite “good luck” texts she sent before race weekends.

Arthur crossed the walkway toward her before he could overthink it.

“Isabelle?” he called, blinking against the bright sun.

She turned, smiling when she saw him — but it was a small, careful kind of smile.

Not the bright, easy one he remembered.

“Hey, Arthur,” she said softly.

He stopped in front of her, feeling weirdly awkward.

“You didn’t say you were coming,” he said, trying for teasing but it came out too sharp, too defensive.

“I didn’t know I was coming until a few days ago,” Isabelle said, shrugging one shoulder. “Doctor cleared me. Figured I’d make the trip.”

Arthur’s eyes flicked over her automatically — and caught, despite himself, on the faint bruising still along her temple, the shadows along her collarbone.

He looked away quickly.

Pretended he hadn’t seen it.

“You look fine,” he said too quickly. “You are fine, right?”

Isabelle’s smile faltered.

“I’m… better,” she said after a beat. “Still a little bruised. But yeah. I’m okay.”

Arthur nodded, desperate to believe it.

“Good,” he said, forcing a casual shrug. “We were all worried.”

Were we? a voice whispered in the back of his mind, but he shoved it down.

Isabelle looked at him for a long second, her expression unreadable.

“You didn’t ask,” she said lightly. Not accusatory. Just stating a fact.

Arthur blinked.

“What?”

“After the accident,” she said. “None of you really asked what happened. You just… assumed I was fine.”

Arthur opened his mouth. Closed it.

He didn’t know what to say to that — not without admitting that he hadn’t wanted to ask.

Hadn’t wanted to know.

Because if she wasn’t fine —

If she had been hurt worse than a few bruises and a night in the hospital —

Then what did that say about him? About all of them?

Arthur shifted his weight, uncomfortable.

“You’re here now,” he said finally, as if that proved something.

As if her survival was enough to erase everything else.

Isabelle smiled again — but it was a different kind of smile this time.

Tired. A little sad.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m here.”

And for the first time, Arthur wondered if maybe — just maybe — that wasn’t as simple as it sounded.

***

Lily hadn’t been trying to find anyone in particular — she'd just been wandering the paddock in search of ice cream.

It was so hot, that she really, really needed ice cream before she melted into a puddle of useless girlfriend.

Oscar had pointed her in the vague direction of the food vendors before dashing off for driver obligations, so Lily wandered across the paddock, sunglasses perched precariously on her head, following her nose (and the general vibe of "ice cream is this way").

She was halfway there when she spotted her.

A girl — no, a young woman — perched casually near one of the vendor stands, flipping through her phone with an easy kind of grace, looking completely at home despite the chaos around her.

At first, Lily didn't recognize her. She just noticed the calm. The way people instinctively gave her space without even realizing it. Like the eye of a storm.

Then she realized.

Isabelle Leclerc.

Charles’ sister.

The one who somehow existed on the very edge of all the chaos — always close enough to be there, but never quite tangled up in it.

Belle. The girl who had rescued Oscar from buying “the ugliest couch in existence in Monaco.”

Oscar had mentioned her, in the same tone you'd use for someone you admired without quite knowing how to say it.

Lily hesitated — torn between her mission for ice cream and her deep-rooted manners that said go say hi, you dork.

She picked manners.

"Hi," Lily said, smiling as she approached.

Isabelle looked up, and for a second, Lily thought maybe she'd made a mistake — maybe she was interrupting something.

But then Isabelle smiled back — soft and real — and it was like being wrapped in sunshine.

"Hi," Isabelle said warmly. "You're Oscar's Lily, right?"

Lily laughed, a little breathless with surprise. "I guess so."

"Finally, we meet properly. Belle Leclerc," Belle said, tucking her phone away. "You heading somewhere, or are you just braving the paddock chaos for the experience?"

"Ice cream," Lily admitted. "Desperately."

Belle laughed — a real laugh, the kind that made you want to laugh too. "Good instincts. It's basically a survival tactic in this weather."

Lily grinned, a little more relaxed now. "You wouldn't happen to know where the best vendor is, would you?"

Belle tilted her head thoughtfully, like she was considering the great philosophical question of their time. "There's a stand near the back of the McLaren motorhome," she said. "Less crowded, better flavors. Also, the guy running it doesn’t skimp on sprinkles if you look appropriately pitiful."

Lily beamed. "You’re a lifesaver."

"Come on," Belle said, already falling into step beside her. "I'll show you. It’s basically my civic duty."

Belle tucked a strand of caramel coloured hair behind her ear and Lily suddenly saw the faint bruising still lingering along Belle’s temple and just under her collarbone where her dress dipped at the neck.  

The sight made something twist sharply in Lily’s chest.

"I—" she started, then bit her lip. "I just wanted to say… I’m really glad you’re okay."

Belle blinked, clearly surprised.

"I heard about the crash," Lily said quickly, "Oscar told me it was serious."   She trailed off, feeling weirdly emotional for a person who barely knew her.

Belle’s expression softened even more — touched, a little shy.

"Thank you," she said, voice a little rougher around the edges. "I was really lucky."

Lily smiled, relieved.

"And also," Lily said, remembering, "thank you for helping Oscar with his apartment. He said you saved him from living in chaos forever."

Belle laughed again, covering her mouth. "He’s exaggerating."

"No, he’s really not," Lily said earnestly. "He had one pot and like three mismatched plates before you intervened."

Belle giggled. "I just gave him a list."

"And apparently taught him the existence of rugs and throw pillows," Lily said with a wink. "You’re a hero."

Belle was still laughing, her eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made her seem even younger, even softer.

Lily found herself smiling so hard her cheeks hurt.

Without really thinking, she said:

"I’m really glad we ran into each other."

"Me too," Belle said, and this time there wasn’t a trace of hesitation.

And just like that — without ceremony or fanfare — Lily was swept up into Belle’s orbit. Adopted. Collected. Claimed.

No big declarations. No awkwardness.

Just a steady, unspoken you’re one of mine now.

Lily understood immediately how it had happened to Oscar.

And why Oscar had looked so quietly smug about it ever since.

As they made their way through the paddock together, Belle offering casual commentary on the chaos around them, Lily thought maybe — just maybe — this whole world felt a little less overwhelming when you had someone like Belle at your side.

Two girls who hadn’t meant to find each other in the chaos of the paddock — but who did anyway.

***

Text Messages: Lily Zneimer & Oscar Piastri

Lily: I just met Belle.

Lily: At the ice cream stand!!

Lily: We both went for survival ice cream.

Lily: It was fate.

Oscar: Oh no. What did you do.

Lily: EXCUSE ME.

Lily: I was adorable.

Lily: SHE was adorable.

Lily: We’re best friends now.

Oscar: That tracks.

Lily: Oscar. OSCAR.

Oscar: What.

Lily: I get it.

Lily: I GET IT.

Lily: Why you’re obsessed with her.

Lily: She’s sunshine wrapped in a cardigan and stubbornness.

Oscar: Yeah. She’s Belle. Everyone’s a little obsessed with her. Max just got there first.

Lily: Also she’s still got bruises from the crash and she was just out here smiling like a total champ.

Lily: I wanted to wrap her in bubble wrap.

Oscar: Trust me. Max is already trying. If he could put her in a Volvo made of titanium, he would.

Lily: Tell him to let me help.

Lily: I’m small but scrappy.

Oscar:  I’ll pass along the message. He’ll appreciate the reinforcements.

Lily: I’m serious. I love her already.

****

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/F1Overheard: Isabelle Leclerc and Lily Zneimer spotted getting ice cream together in the paddock today. New power duo just dropped???

@/Turn1Drama:  Not to be dramatic but I would lay down my life for Isabelle and Lily within 0.2 seconds of meeting them.

@/F1Receipts: Ok but… zoom in. Look at Isabelle’s collarbone.  There’s… bruising???

photo attached: Belle smiling with Lily, faint purple fading along her neck/collarbone visible above her dress

@GridGirlsUnited: WAIT. WHY DOES ISABELLE HAVE BRUISES.

@/FerrariFeverDreams: Isabelle Leclerc is the blueprint for moving through the world with quiet grace and still kicking life’s ass.

@/F1WAGUpdates:  UMMM??? ISABELLE LECLERC AND LILY (OSCAR'S GIRLFRIEND) SPOTTED GETTING ICE CREAM IN BAHRAIN?? HELLO??? THE POWER DUO I NEVER KNEW I NEEDED????

@/gridgirlconfessions:  not to be dramatic but Isabelle taking lily under her wing is the SOFTEST THING EVER.  I’m literally going to cry in the paddock rn

@turn1meltdown also. not to be That Person but did anyone else notice... Isabelle has bruises?? I am pretty sure she covered one at her forehead with makeup. but you can see one on her shoulder when her dress fell down  as she got ice cream??

@/tinfoiltires: not to start a conspiracy but…do you think she is dating Lando?! I mean she is hanging out with Oscar’s girlfriend. 

@/paddockprotectionagency: There is literally no evidence for that. At all. 

@/F1TeaTime:  ISABELLE LECLERC AND LILY PIASTRI SPOTTED TOGETHER IN BAHRAIN:  GIRL GANG FORMING ALERT.

@PaddockSpy Isabelle "please don't perceive me" Leclerc and Lily "mystery personified" Zneimer together is EXACTLY the energy the paddock needs.

@/McLarenMayhem Oscar spotted hovering around Lily and Isabelle like a guard dog. Lando too???

@/PitLaneDrama:  Theory: Isabelle was hurt recently. Not racing related (obviously). Something serious enough that the whole grid knows but fans are only now noticing.

@/FerrariFanForum: idk what's happening but if someone hurt Isabelle Leclerc I fully believe half the paddock would riot.

@/f1overheard:  also... are we gonna talk about the fact that Belle still has bruises on her arms??? Faded but definitely there??? Is she okay??? Who do I need to fight???

@/chaosinsector1: She’s laughing and walking and eating ice cream but seeing those bruises on Belle actually made me want to fistfight a drunk driver in the middle of Bahrain.

***

Text Messages: Oscar Piastri & Max Verstappen

Oscar: Mate. Did my girlfriend just get adopted by your girlfriend??

Max: Good. Belle needs more allies.

Oscar: They went for ice cream and now Lily’s acting like she’s been knighted into the Order of Belle.

Max: She has. There’s no going back.

Oscar: ...is this what happened to me?

Max: Yes. You just didn’t notice. It’s stealthy like that.

Oscar: Incredible.

Max: Also — Can you tell Lily to keep an eye on her?

Oscar: Belle?

Max: Yeah. Doctor cleared her for travel, but… She’s good at pretending she’s fine when she isn’t.

Oscar: Got it. I’ll tell Lily. (But I think she already clocked that. She’s weirdly good at reading people.)

Max: So is Belle. That’s probably why they found each other. But yeah. Just… make sure she rests. If she starts acting like she’s invincible, let me know.

Oscar: Copy that. Spy network: activated.

Max: Appreciate it. You get one free pass next time I accidentally block you in quali.

Oscar: Noted. I’ll save it for when it hurts the most.

***

Belle had just been laughing at something Lily said — something about Oscar’s catastrophic ability to pick good ice cream flavors — when she felt it.

That snap in the air.

The sudden chill.

She turned — and sure enough, there was Charles, storming across the paddock toward them with thunderclouds practically radiating off him.

Belle stiffened instinctively.

Oscar noticed too — his easy grin faltering. He had had flopped into a seat beside them minutes ago, looking amused but exhausted after media duties. Lando Norris had joined them too, fresh from a sponsor event, stealing a spoonful of Belle’s icecram like a menace. 

Lando now looked like he was considering dropping his spoon and running.

“Isabelle,” Charles barked, sharp enough that it turned a few heads.

Belle straightened, fighting the instinct to brace herself.

“Hi, Charles,” she said evenly. “Good afternoon to you too."

He didn’t bother with greetings.

He didn’t even glance at the others.

His glare locked onto her like a missile.

He pointed dramatically at Lando, who looked like a deer in headlights.

"Are you dating him?!"

Dead silence.

Belle stared at her brother, mouth slightly open, frozen mid-bite.

Before she could even start responding, Lando erupted:

"WHAT?? NO. OH MY GOD, NO."

He flailed so hard he nearly knocked over his chair.

"I would never!" he blurted, panicked.

Oscar looked like he wanted to sink into the ground and disappear.

Lily was visibly biting her lip, fighting back laughter.

Belle closed her eyes very slowly, inhaled through her nose, and set her cup down carefully on the table.

"First of all," she said icily, "even if I were dating someone, that’s absolutely none of your business."

Charles opened his mouth to argue.

Belle held up a hand. "I’m not done."

Charles froze.

"Second," Belle continued, voice sharp, "I am not dating Lando. I was laughing at a joke about Oscar thinking that horseradish is an ice cream flavour that should exist, thank you very much."

Oscar made a helpless noise of protest. Lily patted his arm sympathetically.

"And third," Belle said, her eyes narrowing, "I would like to remind you that last year, you accused me of flirting with GP because we had a five-minute conversation about kitchen backsplashes."

Oscar actually choked on his yogurt.

Lando snorted so loudly he nearly fell out of his chair.

Charles, flushing red, spluttered, "That was — that was different!"

"Was it?" Belle said, crossing her arms. "Was it really, Charles? I am an adult," she said crisply. "I am capable of talking to men without planning a wedding, thank you."

Belle took a slow step forward, closing the space between them — not enough to make a scene, but enough that he had to really look at her.

At the fading bruises on her skin.

At the shadows under her eyes.

At the way she stood — a little too still, a little too tired — but standing all the same.

“I survived a car crash two weeks ago,” Belle said, voice quiet but razor-sharp. “I’m allowed to eat ice cream with my friends without needing your permission, Charles.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to argue — to scold her somehow, as if she hadn’t earned the right to live her life on her own terms — but for once, no words came out.

Belle didn’t wait for them either.

***

Group Chat: HELP ME

(Members: Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Daniel Ricciardo, Carlos Sainz Jr. and Lewis Hamilton)

Lando: I’M GOING TO DIE.

Lando: I’M ACTUALLY GOING TO DIE.

Carlos: What happened now?

Lando: CHARLES. CHARLES HAPPENED.

Lando: HE THINKS I’M DATING BELLE.

Lewis: Wait, dating?? What did you do?

Lando: NOTHING. WE TALKED ABOUT ICE CREAM TOPPINGS.

Daniel: …please tell me you’re joking.

Oscar:  He’s not. 

Lando: I SWEAR.

Lando: I WAS TALKING ABOUT OREOS.

Lando: AND SPRINKLES.

Lando: AND NOW I’M A DEAD MAN.

Daniel: This is incredible. Never change.

Carlos: Sprinkles = romantic commitment now. Good to know.

Lando: CHARLES LOOKED AT ME LIKE HE WAS ALREADY DIGGING THE GRAVE.

Lando: I’M INNOCENT.

Oscar: Tell it to the judge. (aka Charles.)

Lando: I NEED WITNESSES.

Lewis: Your Honor, all he did was sprinkle some toppings.

Daniel: GUILTY. Of flirting with ice cream.

Oscar: Death by suspicious glances.

Lando: THIS IS A MISCARRIAGE OF JUSTICE.

Carlos: Charles said guilty. Sprinkle boy must suffer.

Lando: I HATE YOU ALL.

Oscar: Love you too, Sprinkle Boy.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Max Verstappen

Isabelle: Update from the chaos front: Charles now thinks I’m dating Lando.

Max: First GP. Now Lando. Who’s next? Helmut?

Isabelle: PLEASE.

Max: Imagine explaining that one to the family.

Isabelle: At this point I think they’d believe anything. I just need to talk to someone and apparently it’s a full-blown scandal.

Max: Good thing you already have a secret boyfriend. ME. 

Isabelle: The only one that matters. (And the only one who would never judge my ice cream topping choices.)

Max: Correct. As your official and only secret boyfriend, I feel like maybe it’s time to make you an honest woman.

Isabelle: Max.

Max: All I’m saying is if you wore a ring, maybe Charles would stop suspecting every man who breathes near you.

Isabelle: You’re lucky you’re cute.

Max: I’m lucky for a lot of reasons. You’re the biggest one.

***

David Coulthard had been around Formula One long enough to notice things.

He noticed when a driver had a new sponsor before anyone said a word.

He noticed when a pit crew moved two tenths faster than last season.

And he noticed — very easily — when something was going on off-track.

It started with Max.

Max was... Different.

Still sharp, still competitive — God help anyone who thought the fire had gone — but... softer around the edges, somehow.

 Less likely to bite a journalist’s head off.

 Laughing more. Smiling — smiling! — during media duties instead of looking like he wanted to physically vanish into the concrete.

David had filed it away, mildly amused.

 Maybe maturity.

 Maybe something else.

But then Bahrain happened.

And David saw her.

He was standing near the Red Bull hospitality tent, making small talk with Christian Horner about the new season, when he caught the sight of her.

Isabelle Leclerc.

Charles' little sister.

 Quiet. Polite. Always seemed to hover just outside the spotlight.

She was walking across the paddock, a small tote bag slung over one shoulder, sunglasses perched on her head — casual, unnoticed by most of the chaos around her.

Except Max noticed.

Max, who’d been standing half-turned, mid-conversation with a Red Bull engineer, stopped mid-sentence when he saw her.

David watched — curious, instinct pricking at the back of his neck — as Max’s entire face softened.

Not just fond — no, no.

Absolutely gone.

Max excused himself a little too quickly. Caught up with her a few paces later, walking just a little too close, talking low and quiet.

David tilted his head, observing like a man watching a slow car crash — except it wasn’t a crash at all. It was... intimate.

Isabelle laughed at something Max said — and David watched Max practically beam like a golden retriever who’d just been handed a steak.

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

Well, well, well.

Later that afternoon, while pretending to be busy near the media center, David caught another moment.

Isabelle was perched on the low wall near the Red Bull motorhome, sipping from a bottle of water, flipping through something on her phone.

Max came out the door — helmet in hand, race suit half unzipped — and immediately bee-lined toward her.

Not toward the engineers.

Not toward the debrief room.

 Her.

And when he thought no one was looking, Max leaned down and pressed a kiss — soft, fast, familiar — to the top of her head.

David raised his eyebrows.

Oh, it wasn’t just a thing.

It wasn’t casual.

It wasn’t nothing.

This was serious.

And judging by how utterly comfortable they were — how instinctively they gravitated toward each other without even thinking — it had been serious for a while.

David smirked to himself, pulling out his phone.

Text to Mark Webber:I bet you a bottle of wine Max Verstappen is dating Isabelle Leclerc. Long term. Dead serious.

Mark:WHATexplain immediately

David chuckled, pocketing his phone.

Oh, he wasn’t going to explain everything yet.

Where was the fun in that?

He was going to sit back, enjoy the slow unfolding chaos, and wait for the paddock to finally catch up to what he already knew:

Max Verstappen was utterly, completely, irrevocably in love.

And her last name was Leclerc.

God, the 2024 season was already looking fantastic.

***

Mark Webber prided himself on keeping his ear to the ground.

Or, at the very least, knowing when David bloody Coulthard was onto something juicy.

He couldn’t stop thinking about that text message.

 I bet you a bottle of wine Max Verstappen is dating Isabelle Leclerc. Long term. Dead serious.

 Dead serious.

 David didn’t throw those words around lightly.

So, naturally, Mark did what any sane, mature, retired driver would do.

He went hunting for information.

It wasn’t like he could just ask Max — not without getting a death stare and possibly a Red Bull can thrown at his head.

 No, he needed someone younger. Someone adjacent. Someone... less likely to suspect an ambush.

He spotted Oscar near the McLaren garage, fiddling with a water bottle, looking far too innocent for a man in the Formula One paddock.

Perfect.

Mark strolled over casually, hands in his pockets, wearing the most nonchalant face he could muster.

Oscar looked up, blinking like a deer in headlights.

"Hey, mate," Mark said smoothly. "Quick one for you."

Oscar looked instantly suspicious — good lad, instincts sharp — but he nodded.

Mark leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Any idea if Max Verstappen’s dating Isabelle Leclerc?"

Oscar choked so hard on absolutely nothing that he physically stumbled back a step.

Mark arched a brow. "That’s a yes?"

"How—" Oscar spluttered, looking around wildly like he expected FIA officials to pop out of the bushes. "How do you know that?!"

Mark laughed, genuinely delighted. "Ohhh, mate, you just confirmed it for me."

Oscar groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I didn’t confirm anything! I just— I mean—" He lowered his voice urgently. "It’s, like, a massive secret."

Mark chuckled, utterly unbothered. "Not that massive if Coulthard noticed it after one afternoon."

Oscar buried his face in his hands. "I’m so dead. Max is going to kill me. I didn’t say anything!"

"You didn’t have to." Mark clapped him on the shoulder, grinning like the cat that got the cream. "Cheers, mate. Appreciate it."

He turned to saunter away — job done, day made — leaving poor Oscar standing there, looking absolutely haunted.

Mark was already pulling out his phone to text David back: Oscar just confirmed it. Owe you a bottle. Also this is incredible.

God, he loved this sport.

***

The restaurant was loud, chaotic in the way all post-race celebrations were, but Max didn’t mind.  

Not tonight.

The Bahrain Grand Prix trophy was already back at the hotel, forgotten for the moment — because the real prize was sitting right next to him, curled into the booth, tucked safely under his arm.

Belle.

Max still hadn't entirely recovered from seeing her waiting for him after free practice a few nights ago — real, alive, breathing.  

Now, with her hair soft around her face, wearing a simple sundress that made her look even more breakable and beautiful under the low lights, he could barely keep his hands off her.

And he didn’t have to.  

Not here.  

Not when everyone thought she was just Isabelle Leclerc, Charles’ sweet little sister, along for the ride.

Max smirked to himself, sliding his hand a little higher on her thigh under the table, tracing small, lazy circles against the fabric of her dress.

Belle looked up at him, cheeks flushing immediately, but her eyes sparkled — delighted, conspiratorial.

God, he loved her.

Lando, unfortunately, was sitting across the table — and he was dying.

Max could feel it.

Every time Max leaned in closer to Belle, murmuring something low in her ear, Lando shifted violently in his seat like he was physically restraining himself from making a scene.

It was beautiful.

"So," Belle said, teasingly soft, tilting her head up toward him, "how does it feel to add another trophy to the collection?"

Max shrugged, smirking, fully aware that Charles — sitting a few seats away — was half-listening while pretending to be absorbed in the menu.

"Don’t care about trophies," Max said easily, keeping his voice just loud enough to carry.

Belle blinked up at him, playing along.  

"Oh no? What do you care about, then?"

Max leaned down, his mouth brushing just over the shell of her ear, and said, so low that it was a miracle only Lando seemed to catch it:

"You’re the only trophy I want."

Belle flushed scarlet, her hand tightening briefly around the napkin in her lap, her breath catching visibly.  

Max smiled against her temple, smug and helplessly in love.

Across the table, Lando made a tiny, strangled noise and buried his face in his hands.

Charles — bless his stupid, oblivious soul — just looked up from the menu and said, casually:

"You’re not even looking at dessert, Max. You’re going to miss the good stuff."

Max didn't even blink.  

"I already have the good stuff," he said without missing a beat, eyes locked firmly on Belle.

Belle made a tiny, helpless noise that she immediately disguised with a cough.  

Lando kicked Max hard under the table, and Max barely resisted kicking him back.

Charles, meanwhile, just shrugged and went back to the menu, completely, fantastically unaware.

Max felt Belle’s hand slide into his under the table, squeezing once — a secret, silent, trembling squeeze — and he squeezed back, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles.

She was his.

And one day soon —  

He wasn’t going to hide it anymore.

But for now?  

He could live like this.  

With Belle flushed and smiling at his side, Lando dying quietly across from him, and the rest of the world too blind to see that Max Verstappen had already won the only race that ever really mattered.

***

Group Chat: HELP ME

(Members: Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz, Daniel Ricciardo, Lewis Hamilton)

Lando: I almost DIED at dinner.

Oscar: What happened??

Lando: Max flirted with Belle. In front of Charles. Like, full-on heart eyes and whispered sweet nothings.

Carlos: Please tell me Charles noticed.

Lando: HE DIDN’T. He told Max to look at the dessert menu.

Lando: Max literally said “I already have the good stuff” while STARING AT BELLE.

Lando: And Charles just??? Nodded???

Lewis: Oh my god.

Oscar: I’m losing it. How are you still alive.

Lando: She was BLUSHING. Max was basically devouring her with his eyes.

Lando: I had to physically punch myself in the leg to not start screaming.

Daniel: You deserve an award. Like. An actual trophy.

Carlos: Or a medal. “Bravery in the Face of Complete Dumbassery.”

Oscar: Lando Norris: Survivor of Max-and-Belle Public Flirting™️

Lando: I’m writing my will. If I die because Charles eventually finds out and kills me, tell my mum I love her.

Daniel: Will do. Also, dibs on your gaming chair.

Lewis: We are NOT inheriting his Twitch setup, Daniel.

Daniel: You can’t stop me.

Carlos: Focus. The real question is: How long until Max just proposes and Charles still doesn’t notice?

Oscar: 50 bucks says it happens this season.

Lando: I’m raising you to 100. Because honestly? At this point? I can see it happening.

***

There were a few great constants in Formula One.

 One: There would always be politics.

 Two: Fernando Alonso would always find a way to be fast.

 And three: The old guard — Mark Webber, David Coulthard, and Fernando himself — would probably end up at a hotel bar, drinking expensive whiskey and gossiping like teenagers at a sleepover.

Tonight was no exception.

David leaned back in his chair, looking insufferably smug as he sipped his drink.

"I’m telling you," he said, tapping the side of his glass for emphasis. "It’s serious. Verstappen and the little Leclerc."

Mark, grinning like a fox, said, "Oscar practically shat himself when I asked him."

Fernando’s eyebrows shot up, delighted. "You interrogated Piastri?"

Mark shrugged, completely unapologetic. "Didn’t even need to. Kid panicked so hard I thought he was about to call his mum."

David chuckled darkly. "Told you. Not just a fling. Proper relationship. Long-term."

Fernando leaned forward, elbows on the table, suddenly far more interested. "I have seen them together a few times. Very... comfortable."

David pointed at him triumphantly. "Exactly! No nerves. No posturing. He looks at her like he’s already married her and built her a house in the countryside with five cats."

Mark howled with laughter. "Imagine Max Verstappen in the countryside, bloody hell."

Fernando smirked. "You are both missing the real headline."

Mark and David raised their eyebrows in unison.

Fernando leaned back, satisfied. "When Charles finds out."

There was a beat of silence — then all three of them burst into laughter, loud enough that a few other patrons in the bar turned to look.

David wiped tears from his eyes. "Oh, God, Charles Leclerc’s going to combust."

"Publicly or privately?" Mark asked, grinning.

Fernando considered it seriously. "Privately first. Brooding. Sad playlist. Maybe a little crying in the shower. Then public disapproval."

"Disapproval," David echoed, nodding solemnly. "In that very polite Monegasque way. ‘I am not angry, I am just... disappointed.’"

Mark knocked back the rest of his drink, still chuckling. "Imagine the Christmas dinners. Verstappen sitting across from Leclerc at the table. Isabelle kicking him under it every time he tries to start a fight."

David grinned. "Max pretending to be polite for fifteen minutes before he says something that makes Charles’ eye twitch."

Fernando clapped his hands together, pleased. "This season is already perfect."

Mark waved down the bartender for another round, because frankly, they deserved it.

"We should start a pool," he said. "How long until it goes public?"

David leaned forward eagerly. "Or how long until one of them accidentally soft-launches it on Instagram."

Fernando raised his glass. "Or until Verstappen punches a journalist for asking a stupid question about Isabelle."

They clinked glasses with wicked grins, the unofficial F1 Gossip Club alive and thriving.

Across town, Max Verstappen and Isabelle Leclerc remained blissfully unaware that three of the sport’s greatest troublemakers were placing metaphorical bets on their entire relationship timeline.

***

It wasn’t supposed to be complicated.

It was just a haircut. A simple thing.

Isabelle had asked, gently, over coffee one weekend. "Would you mind coloring my hair again, Maman?"

Her voice light, casual — hoping it would sound like a normal daughterly request, not something heavy.

Pascale had smiled vaguely, barely looking up from her phone. "Of course, cherie. Make an appointment, and we'll sort it out."

Belle had smiled too, automatic and small. "Okay."

She booked it the next week, a Friday afternoon — easy enough to squeeze in around both their schedules. She texted her mother to confirm.

Belle: Appointment for Friday at 2pm. Let me know if that still works for you!

The reply came half a day later.

Pascale: Oh, mon coeur, Friday’s going to be tricky. Charles needs help with a sponsor shoot! We'll find another time, I promise ❤️

Belle told herself it was fine. Of course it was fine.

Charles' career came first. It always had.

She rebooked for the next week.

Wednesday afternoon. Easy. Flexible.

Pascale: Arthur’s looking at apartments. I need to go with him. Next week? ❤️

Another reschedule. Another brushed-off excuse.

Lunch with friends. Last-minute travel plans. A gala that needed organizing.

Each time, Belle rearranged her schedule like a good little daughter. Each time, Pascale’s priorities stayed somewhere else — with someone else.

And Belle — Belle stayed small and polite, pretending like it didn’t sting.

Eventually, after the fourth reschedule in three weeks, Belle stood in front of her bathroom mirror, stared at her roots growing out unevenly, the dull ends of her hair catching awkwardly in the light — and something inside her simply... cracked.

She booked an appointment. With someone else. No fanfare. No texts.

She sat in the warm, bright little salon tucked near the flower market that Emilie had recommended, letting a stranger mix a soft, golden color for her hair, hands sure and kind.

And when it was done — When Belle caught sight of herself in the mirror — she smiled.

Really smiled.

The soft caramel highlights caught the light, framing her face, making her eyes look warmer. She looked — fresh. Hopeful, even.

It was silly.  It was just hair. But it felt like something more.

A line, quietly drawn. A choice for herself, not for anyone else.

She didn’t tell her mother.

Not at first.

But Pascale noticed at a family brunch the following weekend.

The moment Isabelle sat down, Pascale’s eyes sharpened, taking in the subtle change.

"You went to someone else?" she asked, light but pointed, the corners of her mouth tightening almost imperceptibly.

Isabelle sipped her coffee calmly. "You were busy."

Pascale laughed, waving it off. "Still, cherie, you should have waited. It’s not quite... what we would have done."

Belle smiled, soft and polite — the kind of smile she'd perfected years ago. Maybe not what you would have done, she thought. Maybe that's the point.

"It’s just hair, Maman," she said lightly.  She didn’t offer to rebook. Didn’t apologize.

And for once, she didn’t feel guilty about it.

***

The chair in Simone’s office was comfortable — too comfortable, sometimes.

It made it harder to keep her walls up. But maybe that was the point.

Belle picked at the seam of her sleeve, her legs curled under her, staring at the little woven rug on the floor as she spoke.

"It sounds stupid," she said after a long pause. "About the hair, I mean."

Simone — patient, kind Simone — just shook her head gently. "I don't think it sounds stupid at all."

Belle exhaled, staring at her hands."I just... I asked her to help. My mother. And she said yes, but then kept rescheduling. Again and again. For Charles. For Arthur. For everyone else."

Simone nodded, quiet encouragement in the simple gesture.

"And it wasn't the first time," Belle added, voice thinner now. "It’s never the first time. I know that."

"And how did it feel?" Simone asked, voice low, careful.

Belle hesitated.

How did it feel? It felt — small. It felt like being fourteen again, forgotten in the corner while her brothers got all the attention, all the applause.

"It felt like..." she trailed off, fumbling for words. "Like I wasn't important enough to remember."

Simone’s gaze was steady. "And what did you do with that feeling?"

Belle smiled tightly. "I told myself it didn't matter. Booked another appointment. Let someone else do it."

"And how did that feel?"

Belle surprised herself by laughing — a soft, broken sound. "Good," she admitted. And then, more quietly: "Really good."

Simone smiled. "You made a choice for yourself."

Belle nodded, the weight of it sinking in.

"I didn’t wait around this time," she said. "I didn’t hope she'd find time for me if I was just... patient enough."

"That’s not a small thing," Simone said. "That’s reclaiming something you were taught not to expect."

Belle blinked, throat tightening unexpectedly.

"You were taught," Simone continued gently, "that your needs came second. Or third. Or fourth. Or not at all. And now — even in something as small as a haircut — you're learning that you don't have to keep living by those old rules."

Belle swallowed hard.

"I guess I always thought... if I was just easier, or more useful, then maybe they'd—"

She broke off, voice catching.

Simone leaned forward slightly, her voice warm and firm.

"You don't have to earn love, Isabelle."

Belle squeezed her hands into fists, feeling the sting of tears she refused to let fall.

"You were already enough," Simone said. "You always have been."

Belle left the session feeling raw — scraped open — but lighter too.

Because maybe, just maybe, she was allowed to take up space. Allowed to choose herself. Allowed to stop waiting for permission that was never going to come.

Maybe love didn’t look like waiting on the sidelines. Maybe it looked like laughing under new sunlight, caramel highlights catching in the breeze, walking into the world without asking first.

And maybe — just maybe — she could be proud of that.

***

Text Messages: Victoria Verstappen & Isabelle Leclerc

Victoria: Hey Belle 💛 Random question — do you have some time in the next few weeks?

Isabelle: Hi! I should, yes! What’s up?

Victoria: I need help. With the nursery.

Isabelle: 🥺🥺🥺 You want me to help?

Victoria: Of course. You have the best taste. And honestly? I trust you. I want the nursery to feel safe and warm — not like something out of a catalog.

Isabelle: 😭 Vic.

Victoria: I'm serious!! Also I’m too emotional and tired to pick out wallpapers without crying 😂

Isabelle: Say no more. I’m honored. When were you thinking of starting?

Victoria: Whenever you’re free! No pressure. (But preferably before I get too big to waddle up the stairs without a forklift.)

Isabelle: 😂 You’re glowing, not waddling. But yes, I’m free next weekend if you want?

Victoria: Perfect. We can have snacks and mood boards and a no-crying policy.

Isabelle: (That rule is for you.)

Victoria: 100%.

Victoria: Thank you, Belle. Really. It means a lot to me. It means a lot to us.

Isabelle: I can’t wait 🩵 Already have about 12 ideas brewing.

Victoria: I knew I asked the right person 🥹

****

Team Redline Stream – Transcript

(Stream already in progress. Max is mid-race, casually chatting with the team and chat.)

Chris Lulham: So, Max, what’s your girlfriend up to these days? Did she get a new job, or is she just vibing?

Max: (Laughs.) She’s freelancing now."

Luke Crane: "Oh, so technically working, but with way less stress?"

Max: "Exactly. No more crazy hours, no more annoying bosses. Now she actually gets to have a life."

Chat:

FREELANCE ERA LET’S GOOOO

Max won the battle against corporate life

Work-life balance king fighting for his queen

"She actually gets to have a life" he has been PRAYING for this

Bro was so against that job, he’s probably happier than she is 💀

Chris: "So what does she do with all her free time now?"

Max: "More time for the cats. More time for horse riding, instead of just talking about how much she misses it. She’s already been out riding a few times."

Chat:

THE HORSE GIRL ERA RETURNS

"Instead of just talking about it" I know that used to break his heart

He is so smug about this, I can hear it in his voice

The cats and horses are winning rn

Imagine quitting your job and getting more time for your pets and hobbies… she’s living the dream

Chris: "And I’m guessing the cats are thrilled?"

Max: (Grinning.) "Of course. She bought them a ridiculous amount of toys, so they’ve been playing non-stop. They love her more than me anyway."

Aalberts: "I feel like you’ve just accepted that."

Max: (Shrugs.) "It’s the truth."

Chat:

MAX IS A SECONDARY PARENT IN HIS OWN HOUSEHOLD

The cats chose their favorite and it’s NOT him 💀

"They love her more than me" bro just casually taking Ls on stream

Imagine being Max Verstappen and losing to your girlfriend for affection

The way he’s not even mad about it

Luke: "Wait, how many cats is it now? Still Sassy and Jimmy?"

Max: (Smirks) "Three."

Chris: "THREE???"

Chat: HE DROPPED THAT SO CASUALLY HELLO??? NEW CAT REVEAL LET’S GOOOOO

Gianni Vecchio: "When did you get a third cat, mate?!"

Max: "Christmas. She surprised me."

Luke: "Bro your girlfriend got you a whole CAT for Christmas and you’re just mentioning this NOW???"

Chat: WHAT A FLEX A WHOLE CAT Forget watches or cars. Max got a BABY TIGER for Christmas Proposal energy tbh

Chris: "What’s the new cat’s name?"

Max: "Lilly."

Chat: LILLY!!! Sassy, Jimmy, and Lilly — squad complete MAX IS OFFICIALLY A CAT DAD OF THREE

Chris: "Okay but real talk — she got you a cat, bro. That’s basically marriage. So does this mean she’ll be at a race soon?"

Max: (Casually.) "She already was."

Luke: "Wait—WHAT?"

Chat:

HELLO???

EXCUSE ME???

SHE WAS THERE AND WE DIDN’T KNOW???

MAX YOU CAN’T JUST DROP THAT AND MOVE ON

We have failed as detectives

Chris: "Bro. You have people trying to figure out if she even exists, and you’re telling me she was at a race and nobody noticed?"

Max: (Laughing.) "Apparently not."

Luke: "This is insane. What do you mean 'apparently not'?"

Max: (Shrugs.) "She was just walking around, watching, same as always."

Chat:

This man’s girlfriend is a stealth legend

MAX JUST CASUALLY DROPPING BOMBSHELLS ON US

She was among us and we were blind

I feel like he enjoys watching us suffer

WE NEED TO FIND FOOTAGE, THIS IS A MISSION

Chris: "Alright, new game. Next race, we’re all scanning every background shot for your girlfriend."

Max: (Grinning.) "Good luck."

Chat:

Bro knows we will NEVER find her

He’s enjoying this way too much

This is now our new conspiracy theory

Max Verstappen’s girlfriend is the Where’s Waldo of F1

WE WILL NOT REST UNTIL WE FIND HER

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@F1Detective: MAX JUST CASUALLY DROPPED THAT HIS GIRLFRIEND WAS AT A RACE AND WE ALL MISSED IT????

@TireDegEnjoyer:: Max: "Oh yeah, she was at a race." Us: "SIR??? AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO MENTION THIS EARLIER???"

@softmaxgirl: I refuse to believe we all collectively failed at spotting her. This is a cover-up. She’s in a Red Bull hoodie somewhere in the background. We need to check every race weekend.

@pitlanechaos: Max: "She was just walking around, watching, same as always." SAME AS ALWAYS???? SIR??? DO YOU MEAN TO TELL ME SHE’S BEEN TO MULTIPLE RACES?????

@LandoStoleMyLunch: Max’s girlfriend has officially become the Where’s Waldo of the paddock. She’s there, but she’s a ghost.

@DR3sMullet: ANOTHER CAT?!? I DEMAND PICTURES. WHAT DO YOU MEAN SASSY AND JIMMY HAVE A NEW SIBLING?!!?

@PaddockTea: This woman is so committed to her privacy. Most WAGs get papped once and boom, we know their whole life story. Max’s gf? We don’t even have crumbs.

@SuperMaxStan: The fact that she quit her job and instead of immediately becoming a full-time WAG, she just started freelancing??? She really does not care about his money at ALL.

@F1Shitposter: What do you bet Max has tried to convince her to become his trophy wife at least once and she just refused LMAO

↳@UndercutKing: The way half of us would’ve immediately quit their job the second Max suggested it and she just… didn’t. Iconic.

@FrontWingDamage: Max is just so casual about everything. Like, sir. You do realize we’ve been trying to figure this out for months.

↳@RedBullConspiracy:WE HAVE TO GO BACK. CHECK THE FOOTAGE. FIND HER.

↳@F1Sherlock: He said it so casually. Like he didn’t just confirm that she’s been right there and we all missed it. EMBARRASSING FOR US.

@GridReporter:The fact that people are now scrubbing through paddock footage frame by frame trying to find a glimpse of her… I love F1 fans.

↳@McLarenMemeLord:Max: “She was at a race.” F1 Twitter: ACTIVATE FBI MODE

@SuperMaxUltraFan:At this point, I don’t even care who she is. I’m just impressed by the commitment to staying invisible.

↳@Horseriding4Life:"More time for horse riding"—girl is really just living her dream life, huh?

↳@SidepodDisaster:The fact that she chose freelancing instead of living the soft WAG life… Respect.

@RedBullChaos:She really doesn’t care about his money and I think that’s what drives people insane the most.

***

Alex Albon was halfway through his coffee when Max dropped into the chair across from him like the world had personally wronged him.

“Lilly’s sneezing,” Max said, without preamble.

Alex blinked. “Okay… hi?”

“My kitten,” Max clarified, as if that explained everything.

Alex raised a brow. “Right. Is she okay?”

“She started sneezing two days ago,” Max said, frowning. “Little sneezes. Like tchu-tchu. Not constant. But today it’s more.”

Alex set his cup down. “Vet?”

“Took her yesterday. No fever, no infection. Not her food. They tested for everything. Nothing.” Max looked personally offended by the mystery. “So it has to be something in the apartment.”

Alex squinted. “New plants? Cleaning products?”

Max pulled out his phone and swiped with purpose. “Switched laundry detergent last week. Isabelle lit a new candle. It smells like cedarwood and… I don’t know, something sweet.”

“Floral?” Alex offered.

Max nodded like he was on a crime show. “Possibly rose. Or jasmine. Something aggressive. I think it’s the candle.”

“Could be,” Alex agreed. ��Some scents mess with cats’ systems. Especially essential oils.”

Max turned his phone toward him. “Here. This is her on the couch—right next to where the candle’s usually lit.”

Alex looked.

It was a picture of Lilly. Big blue eyes. Tiny paws. Mid-sneeze. The picture was blurry, chaotic, adorable.

But behind the kitten, sitting casually on the couch in one of Max’s oversized hoodies, was Isabelle Leclerc.

Hair pulled into a messy bun. Mug in hand. Bare legs tucked under her like she belonged there. Looking at the kitten with this soft, utterly unguarded smile that said: this is home.

Alex stared.

Max didn’t notice. “See, she only sneezes in the living room. Nowhere else. So I think it’s—”

“Back up,” Alex said, voice sharp.

Max paused. “What?”

Alex pointed at the photo, eyes wide. “Is that Isabelle Leclerc in your living room?”

Max glanced at the phone like it was obvious. “Yeah.”

“Max,” Alex said slowly. “That’s Charles Leclerc’s sister.”

“Correct.”

“She’s wearing your hoodie.”

Then said, without any trace of shame: “Yeah.”

Alex stared. “Yeah?! That’s all I get?!”

Max squinted. “What do you want? A timeline?”

“Uh, YES?” Alex exclaimed, leaning forward. “That’s Charles’ sister. And she’s sitting on your couch in your hoodie with your kitten like she LIVES THERE.”

Max shrugged. “She does.”

Alex’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “You’re dating Charles Leclerc’s sister?”

Max took a sip of his water. “We’ve been together for a while. Over a year.”

Alex made an unholy sound. “And Charles doesn’t know?!”

“Nope.”

Alex blinked rapidly. “Does anyone know?!”

“GP, Lando, Daniel, Oscar…Lewis, my family...Oh, wait, Nico Rosberg. Now you.”

“Do you want to die?!”

Max gave him a mildly amused look. 

Alex dropped his head into his hands. “You’re actually insane.”

Max waited a beat, then tapped his phone. “So. Candle, yes or no?”

Alex groaned. “Yes, Max. It could absolutely be the candle. But also, WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH YOUR LIFE.”

Max tilted his head. “Are you going to tell Charles?”

Alex gave him a look. “Do I look like I want to be collateral damage in that explosion?”

Max nodded approvingly. “Good. So... lavender and cedar — dangerous?”

Alex sighed. “For the kitten, yes. For you? I think you’ve already walked off a cliff.”

Max smirked. “Worth it.”

Alex groaned again. “I need a drink. And maybe a therapist.”

***

Group Chat: 2019 Rookies

(Members: Lando Norris, George Russel and Alex Albon)

Alex: boys. Alex: BOYS. Alex: you’re not going to believe what just happened

George: oh no George:  what did you do?

Alex: not meAlex: MAX

George: even worse George:  what happened?

Alex: so max came to me for ADVICE Alex: about his KITTEN Alex: because she’s sneezing

George:  what???

Alex: wait Alex: it gets worse Alex: he shows me a picture of the kitten Alex: and who’s in the background??

George: WHO?

Alex: ISABELLE. Alex: LECLERC. Alex: on his couch Alex: in his hoodie Alex: drinking out of his red bull mug Alex: LOOKING DOMESTIC AS HELL

George: YOU’RE JOKING

Lando: he’s not

George: EXCUSE ME???? George:  SINCE WHEN????

Alex: over. a. YEAR. Alex: he said that with his whole chest like it was normal

George: A YEAR???? George:  A YEAR?????

Lando: welcome to hell 😌

George: CHARLES DOESN’T KNOW???

Alex: he does not

George: ARE THEY TRYING TO DIE

Lando: hang on hang on Lando: adding you both

Group Chat: HELP ME

(Members: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Daniel Ricciardo, Carlos Sainz Jr., Lewis Hamilton, George Russell and Alex Albon)

Lando Norris has added George Russell and Alex Albon

Lando: new additions have arrived

Daniel: Alex!! Daniel:  G-MONEY!!! welcome to the worst-kept secret in f1

Carlos: it is not a secret. it’s a ticking time bomb.

Oscar: Charles will find out and take us all down with him

Lewis: has anyone built a bunker yet?

Alex: I feel like i need to lie down

George: I feel like I need a legal team

Daniel: guys we’re fineDaniel:  just don’t say anything to charles and don’t look max in the eye for too long

George: what happens if you look max in the eye???

Oscar: you see your life flash before your eyes

Lando: and also possibly belle in a hoodie making pancakes

Alex: ...she cooks for him????

Carlos: they cook together

George: that’s worse.  THEY HAVE A ROUTINE

Lando: they have matching coffee mugs Lando:  and the kitten has a name that matches the other cats.  it's over

George: i am distressed George: deeply, emotionally distressed

Lewis: You’ll get used to it. eventually

Oscar: No, you won’t.  We’re all dying inside… but she’s happy so we keep quiet

Daniel: And max is terrifyingly in love so we don’t poke the bear

George: this is insane

Alex: they are insane

Lando: but also, like… kind of cute right?

***

Max had faced down championship-deciding races, international media frenzies, and Monaco traffic. None of it — none of it — had prepared him for being frog-marched into a luxury jewelry boutique by Emilie Abadie at ten in the morning.

"Stand up straight," Emilie hissed under her breath, fixing the collar of his jacket like he was a misbehaving toddler.

Max glared at her. "I am standing straight."

"You’re standing like you’re about to be arrested," Emilie muttered. "Look less guilty."

"I am guilty," Max grumbled. "Guilty of letting you hijack my life."

Emilie grinned wickedly, grabbing his wrist and hauling him inside.

The boutique was elegant and understated — all cream walls, glass cases, and staff so polished they practically floated across the floor. A woman behind the nearest counter looked up, smiling warmly.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Verstappen. Mademoiselle Abadie. Welcome back."

Max blinked. "Back?"

Emilie shot him a look. "I told you I started scouting months ago. We have an appointment."

"You booked an appointment without asking me?"

"You needed help," Emilie said breezily. "You should be thanking me."

Max grumbled something unflattering under his breath but let her lead him deeper into the store. A private consultation table was already set up — soft lighting, velvet ring trays, glasses of still water, and a discreet little sign that read: “Reserved for Mr. Verstappen.”

Max sat down stiffly. Emilie plopped into the chair next to him like she owned the place.

The saleswoman joined them, setting out a leather-bound book filled with sketches. "You mentioned you were interested in a custom design. Yellow gold, emerald centerpiece, classic but with modern detailing?"

"Exactly," Emilie said crisply, before Max could even open his mouth.

Max raised an eyebrow. "Are you proposing or am I?"

"You're the wallet," Emilie said sweetly. "I’m the brains."

The saleswoman laughed quietly and turned the book toward Max. Beautiful sketches of rings — thick yellow gold bands, stunning emeralds set flush into intricate settings, delicate hidden details like tiny horseshoes, floral engraving, or Celtic knots.

Max stared at them, overwhelmed for a second by how serious it felt.

This wasn’t just a ring.

It was Belle’s future wrapped around her finger.

It was a promise he intended to keep for the rest of his life.

Emilie nudged him gently with her knee under the table. "You’re okay," she said quietly. "You’ve already made the most important decision. This is just picking the outfit for it."

Max exhaled slowly and leaned in, studying the designs.

He pointed to one — simple, stunning, an oval emerald cradled in a four-prong yellow gold setting, surrounded by diamonds, the inside of the band left smooth for an inscription.

"This one," he said roughly. "But I want the stone a little lower. So it doesn’t snag."

The saleswoman smiled approvingly. "Excellent eye, sir."

They finalized the adjustments, confirmed timelines (discreetly expedited, of course), and signed the paperwork.

 Max handed over the deposit without blinking.

When it was done, he stood awkwardly in the middle of the boutique, feeling somehow lighter and heavier all at once.

Emilie looped her arm through his, squeezing. "You did good, Verstappen."

"Yeah?" he asked, voice low.

She looked up at him, eyes suddenly bright. "You’re giving her something no one else ever did," Emilie said softly. "You’re choosing her first."

Max swallowed hard. "She deserves it," he said simply.

And he meant it with everything he had.

***

Instagram Story: @/victoriaverstappen

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/f1gossipgirl: hold on. HOLD ON. isabelle leclerc... hanging wallpaper... with JOS VERSTAPPEN???

@/casualf1fan:  jos verstappen? the jos verstappen? the one who doesn’t like anyone???

@/raceweekgirlie: victoria verstappen posting belle and jos working together calmly has actually sent me into a spiral i was not prepared for today

@/slowpitstop:  isabelle organizing the nursery i get isabelle being friends with victoria i get but isabelle and JOS VERSTAPPEN collaborating on a wallpaper project????

@/softdrs the fact that jos looks??? like he’s enjoying himself???? someone explain. fast.

@/piastrisleftshoe:  NO BECAUSE THINK ABOUT IT. isabelle has always been quiet, polite, organized. jos: respects competence above all else it’s making sense but also???? why does this feel WEIRDLY IMPORTANT

@/f1socialspy:  the verstappens are either adopting isabelle or she’s secretly engaged to max there’s no third option

@/leclercslens: every time i think about isabelle being on a ladder next to jos verstappen holding a roll of wallpaper like it’s normal i lose 3 years off my life

@/f1girliesunite: wait hold on. why is jos verstappen installing wallpaper with isabelle leclerc. what is happening.

@/chaoticf1fan: THE CROSSOVER I DID NOT EXPECT jos verstappen and isabelle leclerc hanging wallpaper like they’re on some home renovation show???

@/leclercbrainrot: belle leclerc being chill with victoria verstappen i get. belle leclerc hanging out with jos verstappen?????? PLS EXPLAIN

@/maxiecatlover33: I’m sorry but if you had told me in 2019 that JOS VERSTAPPEN would be calmly putting up wallpaper with a LECLERC I would have called you insane.

@/dutchgrandprixfan: the way jos looks like he’s genuinely concentrating and belle is just THERE like it’s totally normal?? I HAVE QUESTIONS

@/landochaosnorris: isabelle leclerc and jos verstappen hanging wallpaper together" is my roman empire now

@/chaosformula1: You’re telling me Max Verstappen’s dad and Charles Leclerc’s sister are casually hanging out???? Installing WALLPAPER together??? Am I on drugs or

@gridgirlenergy Not to be dramatic but if you had told me a year ago that Jos Verstappen and Isabelle Leclerc would be collaborating on INTERIOR DESIGN I would’ve called you clinically insane. What’s next? Toto Wolff and Christian Horner hugging it out?!

@/maxfosi:  the way jos and belle were concentrating on that wallpaper like they were on a two-man pit crew… i have QUESTIONS

@/slowpitstop:  someone please explain how belle leclerc is closer to the verstappens than literally any other paddock girlfriend when SHE’S NOT EVEN A PUBLIC GIRLFRIEND (or is she...?)

@/verstappenfiles: there’s just no way she’s not with max right??? you don’t just rope in your extremely grumpy father to do nursery wallpaper with your brother’s "friend" unless it’s SERIOUS

@/mclarenchaos:  the verstappen family adopting belle like a lost kitten while the internet loses its mind is my favorite off-track drama right now

@/redbullstan89: petition to get a documentary crew in there IMMEDIATELY because whatever this is, i want to see it unfold in real time

@/f1girlies:  petition to make “isabelle leclerc hanging wallpaper with jos verstappen” the new unit of measurement for how confusing the f1 world is

@/pitlaneconfessions: still can’t believe victoria posted that and acted like it was NORMAL like “here’s belle and jos, wallpapering together” no context no explanation iconic behavior honestly

@/charlespills: charles leclerc obliviously posting selfies from golf while his sister is bonding with jos verstappen is soooooo on brand