#Maybe show cast a little art

[puppyeared]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[wewerebornsextuplets]

you gottaaa maaaaaake your own kind of musiiiiic

[lala-blahblah]

I will never make this because it would be for an audience of one (me) but ever since reading "If we Were Villains" (story about serious drama kids in college who perform shakespeare and deal with a murder) I have been entertaining the thought of a crack fic crossover with High School Musical The Musical The Series where the staff decides they will no longer put on shakespeare after the tragic accident that happened at Thanksgiving, because Shakespeare plays would only increase the tension and drama. So they hire Ms. Jen who decides their spring play will actually be High School Musical (which exists in the 90s in this universe) and it ruins the vibe so much that everyone gives up on being dark and mysterious because they're universally pissed at Ms Jen for making them learn choreoraphed basketball dancing.

[dbphantom]

Hate having adhd went to go work on my fallout modpack, got distracted while going to disable the steam overlay, ended up in the points shop, went to go edit my profile, decided to change my pfp, found a buried folder I forgot existed, found some old Veneer art I forgot existed, spent 45 minutes looking at all the old photos, STILL HAVE NOT TOGGLED ONE SIMPLE OPTION THAT SHOULD'VE TAKEN 30 SECONDS AT MOST

[lord-squiggletits]

Man there's nothing wrong with genderbends as a concept but there's something lowkey infuriating about this fandom's tendency to take canonically gay (or at least, MLM) male characters and genderbend them into women like. Is that not at least a little bit uncomfortable for anyone else here or is it just me

[gobstoppr]

and btw im in my hater arc rn. as time goes on the more i find a lot of 'fandom' stuff insufferable (i like art n stuff. just the way that fandom refits every media to fit a single mold and set of boring archetypes is exhausting.)

i just get really easily annoyed lately. and have been unfollowing people on a whim a lot. its not personal i promise

[luvrxbunny]

fangs

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Summary: You see Miguel’s fangs for the first time. 

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fangs, very minimal self-doubt, cum in pants (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 1.9k

A/N: I used google translate for the spanish so if anything is incorrect im sorry 

‘Your package was delivered’

Your face brightens at the notification as you hop out of bed and rush to the front door. When you open it you’re met with the broad, muscular back of your boyfriend, Miguel O’Hara.

“Miggy?” You say with a laugh. “What are you doing out here? Oh my god, are you my package?!” You’re hunched over, laughing at your own joke as Miguel stands from his seated position, casting his large shadow over you. 

“Hi, amor.” He places a kiss on your forehead and walks in. “How has your day been?” He asks as he strips off his suit top and walks to the bedroom but you don’t answer, still wondering about something. 

“Why were you just sitting out there?” You ask while closing the front door and taking your slippers off. Miguel hasn’t said anything, letting a long pause draw out before answering.

“I was calming down.” He comes back out in a t-shirt that’s tighter than it needs to be and some gray sweatpants. 

“The fight was pretty intense, a little demanding y’know? So I just wanted to- I wanted to calm down before coming inside… But how was your day?” You don’t let the subject change, still confused with his statement. 

There have been plenty of times when Miguel would burst in, still aggressive and amped up from the latest fight, adrenaline still coursing through him. The first time it happened you were a little scared of course, you’d never seen him like that, eyes clouded with violence, his claws out in the air and threatening, with a deep scowl on his face. But that was a long time ago.

You’ve mastered the art of turning him from Spider-Man to Miggy. You learned it quite some time ago, which just furthers your confusion from his response. He’s rummaging through the cabinets, muttering about how he’s starving and you realize he hasn’t met your gaze since you found him which is incredibly unlike him. 

“Miguel, is that the truth? I mean- You’ve come in all amped up before so…” You trail off as Miguel freezes in the kitchen before sighing and running a hand through his hair. He closes the cabinet gently and turns to you, eyes cast downward before meeting yours. He takes another breath and walks to you. “It’s the technical truth uh… The whole truth is that my fangs were out and… I just- I don’t want you to see them.” He finishes his sentence and walks past you, to the bathroom and closes the door. 

You stand at the entrance to the kitchen in a stupor as you process his words and go chasing after him. You’re pounding on the bathroom door, begging him to let you see them, to let you kiss him with them out, and every other thought that comes to your mind, hoping it lightens the situation. You stop pounding after a few minutes, arms growing tired and getting a little embarrassed at his silence. You make your way over to the couch as you wait for him. 

You think about what he said, that he doesn’t want you to see his fangs and you feel a little pang of hurt in your heart that ripples through your body. 

He doesn’t want me to see them? Why though… Does he think I won’t like them? Does he think my opinion of him will change or something? I love him though, doesn’t he understand that?? Maybe it’s something super intimate, maybe he just doesn’t feel enough for me, for him to expose himself like that. Maybe he doesn’t trust me enough to be that vulnerable, to give all of him to me… 

Your thoughts turn your mood sour as Miguel finally emerges from the bathroom, teeth brushed and face newly washed. “I don’t want to show them to you.” The words strike your heart again as you nod your head at him, not even looking up at him as you fall into your negative thoughts. He watches you stare into the carpet, obviously deep in thought but you look sad. 

“You okay, hermosa?” He wipes his hands in the towel around his neck as he sits beside you on the couch. You don’t hear him, too inside your own head, leaving him ignored. He watches you for a bit before grabbing one of your thighs and turning your body to face him, knocking you out of your trance. You have a deep, heartbreaking expression on your face that you quickly mask with happiness when your eyes meet his. “I asked if you were okay, baby.” 

“Oh! Y-yeah! Yeah, I’m fine, sorry.” You giggle at him but it sounds hollow, making him guilty. He already knows why, he knows how your mind works, he knows how you think. He pulls you in, one leg is extended past him and the other is folded on the couch, touching his leg, your face a few inches from his. 

“Mi cariño, no tiene nada to do with you, okay? Nothing. I just-” He emphasizes ‘nothing’, willing you to believe him. He’s absently rubbing your calf as he tries to piece together what he wants to say. “They’re weapons. I feel like… I don't think I want you to see that… A part of me that’s a weapon. You look at me like… como si fuera tu todo, like I hung the stars… I love that and I don’t want it to change. Nunca quiero que eso cambie.” His eyes are looking at your calf, how his hand wraps around it instead of you. 

(“My love, it has nothing to do with you okay?” “...like I'm your everything…” “I never want that to change.” )

If he had been looking at you he would’ve seen the look of utter disbelief that rested on your face. You put your hand over his and pull yourself closer to him, placing a kiss on his forehead before speaking. “Miguel, I look at you that way because, despite the way you feel about yourself, I believe that you deserve every good thing the world has to offer. I want you to know that you don’t have to show them to me if you really don’t want to but be aware… I will love you for the rest of my life.. and there is nothing that can change that, my feelings for you literally cannot decrease.” 

He stays silent, avoiding your gaze still but you let him. You know that expressing himself is hard for him and hearing people speak positively to him is even harder. You giggle softly at his silence and place another kiss on his head. You’re about to get up from the couch when he pulls you back in, pressing his lips to yours with a bruising intensity that has a fire starting up in your stomach. Your lips part for him as he sighs into you, his hand grips your hair and he grunts as you feel something push against your mouth. He’s breathing faster, kissing you more passionately as you try to pull away. 

Eventually, you break from his grasp and try to look at him but he’s already turned from you. You want to protest but don’t want to push him. You bring one of your hands to rest at his nape, playing with some of the hairs there, trying to soothe him. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t need to turn away, you can leave until he’s calmed down but he turns to you. His mouth is shut but his eyes are so fragile, like they’re pleading with you to be gentle. He holds your eye contact for a bit before opening his mouth in a smile-grimace expression. 

A gasp slips from your mouth and your hands come up to hold his face, pulling it to yours. You inspect his fangs as his warm breath floats over your face. You bring one hand from his face to tail over one of them, earning a flinch from Miguel but you run your other thumb across his cheek, attempting to soothe his worries. 

They’re much bigger than you expected, they look like they’d barely fit in his mouth. They’re smooth and glossy like marble, cleaner than you expected too. You wonder silently if he lets them come out, brushes them, and then retracts them as your other hand comes from his cheek to his mouth. They’re thick, they look like they could leave a sizeable puncture wound if he bit you. Your fingers squeeze around both fangs, feeling their width for yourself. Your fingers run along the length of his fangs and then go up to his gums. 

You’re completely captivated by his teeth, you haven’t even looked back up at him since he opened his mouth. You absently caress his fangs while inspecting his gums, trying to understand where they go when retracted. You give up on that when your thumb runs over the bottom of his fangs. 

He groans out, loud and ragged against your face. 

Your eyes flicker up to look at him and his eyes are rolled back into his head, eyebrows furrowed as he moans out a loose rendition of your name. You’re staring at him in awe as he mutters out a mix of unfinished words. You immediately look down into his lap and see a patch of dark gray spreading out. 

A moan rips from your throat as you press your hand against his hard, twitching, leaking cock and kiss him. His hips instantly twitch up into your hand, using the friction to prolong his orgasm. He’s moaning into your mouth, his hands are frantic as they push your head into his face, his fangs digging into your lips almost painfully. You slide your tongue into his mouth when he moans again, you explore it, feeling the fangs instantly and running your tongue over them. 

The action earns a gut-wrenching whine from Miguel as he starts to tremble. His hips are still bucking up into your palm, overstimulating himself as his cock spurts out mini loads. 

You pull away from him slowly, your hand gently massaging his cock as he comes down. He drops his head onto your shoulder as he pants, unsteady syllables of your name falling from his lips. 

He lifts his head from your shoulder once his cock stops jumping in your hold. There’s a rare pink hue over his face as he leans in to kiss you. You accept it with a smile, kissing him back before pulling away again. 

“So…” You start semi-awkwardly, a light laugh in your tone as he groans out, embarrassed. “Did that feel good? Are they sensitive?” A shuddering breath leaves him as he recalls how your fingers felt gliding over his fangs, how arousal punched into his gut the moment you touched them. 

“Yeah… It felt-” His sentence is cut off with a whisper of a whine as he thinks about it, breathing speeding up, chest heaving at the fresh memory. You’re surprised at this, you’ve never seen him so delirious so… fucked out. “Me sentí tan bien, bebé. N-no sabía que me sentía así. I loved it so much, you made me feel so fucking good, amor. Te amo tanto, cariño.” 

(“I felt so good, baby. I-I didn't know I felt like that”... “I love you so much, darling.”)

A smile graces your face at the one phrase you understand, ‘Te amo’. You pull him in for another kiss before whispering. “Good.” He groans and pulls you into his lap, whining when your weight presses against his sensitive cock. You smile into his lips and kiss him again, pulling away again to giggle at him. 

“ ‘S not funny.” He grumbles out as he leans back, laying down on the couch with you on top of him. You continue giggling into his neck and you can feel his cheeks fatten up with his smile. 

You guys stay there for the rest of the night, intermittently waking up to smother the other in kisses before falling back to sleep. 

Thank you so much for reading!! Please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all!

[peachesofteal]

ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes / prev here

‘C’mon, you never want to go out.” 

You rub your temples, eyes closed in exasperation. “I’m broke, Case.” 

“I’ll spot you. Come on, it’s Friday. I’ll get us into The Rook.” She pleads and pushes, tugging away your excuses and defenses until you’re backed into a corner with nowhere to run. Finally, you opt for a different tactic, lamely. 

“Doesn’t that place have a waiting list?”   

“Oh yeah, miles long. But the owner likes me.” The owner. How does she even know the owner of The Rook? 

“I don’t know…” you linger, still bent over your tiny kitchen table, back bowed and tired, “isn’t it like, dangerous?” 

“The Rook is neutral ground or something, I don’t know. It’s perfectly fine, I’ve been dozens of times.” A litany of stories exists about the speakeasy, from its origins to the current clientele, each as unbelievable as the next, and you’ve always imagined it to be this dark den of sin and debauchery, filled to brim with hitmen and lawlessness. “You have to do something other than work and sleep; you know. You’re missing out on your whole life.” She chides, attempting to launch into the same speech she repeats over and over every few weeks. 

“Alright, alright,” you look down at your torn up cuticles and sigh, “I’ll go.” 

You weren’t wrong about The Rook being dark. 

It’s hollowed out under a club, nooks and crannies and little hallways splitting off in every direction, dim lamps and flickering candlelight casting shadows to the ceiling, bartenders dressed in all black working behind a massive, burnished wood bar along the back wall. Velvet couches, high top tables, overstuff armchairs flow in the space, and Case tells you there are more rooms if you’re keen to explore, explaining in hushed tones how there’s usually a band in one, a card game of sorts in another, a pool table somewhere, all with various styles of seating, and even another bar. It's elegant, decadent, sinful. Most of the people are startlingly beautiful, high heels and skintight dresses, perfectly made-up faces, polished onyx cuff links gleaming against expensive navy suits. 

Even the drinks are licentious. 

You decidedly do not belong here. Perched on a stool next to Case, you occasionally rub your wrists, casually wondering if it would have been acceptable to wear your braces, your carpal tunnel flaring into a swell of agony. 

Wouldn’t that be a sight. 

The bartender slides her two generous neat pours of… something, and you raise an eyebrow. 

“On the house, from the boss.” He says with a wink, and she tips her head to ceiling with a bubble of a laughter, before pressing one of the tumblers into your hand. 

“What is it?” 

“Probably bourbon.” 

“Oh, no thanks, I don’t-“ 

“Just shoot it.” She throws it back with ease, showing her teeth afterwards, a hyena leering in the lamplight. 

Fuck it. Maybe it will the throbbing in your wrists will quiet down. 

It’s thick, syrupy, hot in your throat. Burns all the way down and settles like lava in your stomach, uncomfortable until the sting ebbs into warmth, moving through your bones. 

“Not bad.” You rasp, and she smiles. 

There are more free drinks. They stick to your insides like tar, slicking you in a heavy cotton, weighing your limbs down, loosening the tension in your neck and shoulders, peeling away your layers of discomfort one by one. 

You’re surprised by how at home Case seems in this place, how comfortable she is, smiling and waving to the occasional person, making small talk here and there. She practically floats in her seat, black dress taut against every dimple and dip on her body, hair artfully twisted into something that could be considered modern art. She’s a gazelle. A heron. Something graceful and gorgeous, fine feathered and fabulous.

And you’re… a tired girl in a tired dress, counting her lucky stars that there seem to be so many generous patrons buying drinks tonight. 

“Having fun?” She whispers, nudging you with her shoulder. 

“How often do you come here?” Her eyes wander, flicking past you and then back, wistful caution etched across her brow. 

“Often enough,” She sips her drink and then folds her hands together on the bar top, looking over shoulder, “Most of these people in here… are connected to organized crime somehow.” The information doesn’t surprise you, but hearing it confirmed, knowing it’s not just some story made up, some fairytale about boogeymen, makes you shiver. 

 “Like, the mafia?” 

“The mafia is Italian, but they have a presence in the city.” She shrugs, like it’s all common knowledge. Like you’re out of the loop. “The Rook belongs to Kyle Garrick.” You shake your head, unfamiliar. “Of The 141?” your mouth goes dry. 

The 141. 

The 141 were a notorious organized crime group who ran half, if not more, of the city. You knew they owned clubs, bars, restaurants, and hotels, but you were never clear on the details of their illegitimate work, and you didn’t want to know. 

You knew, for sure: they were men to be feared. Men capable of terrible things. Destruction. Death. 

Their ongoing war with The Shadows was the reason the city was soaked in blood. 

“Don’t worry,” she rushes out, hand on your arm, “like I said, It’s neutral here. Nothing happens in The Rook.” You nod meekly, head swimming. You’re more than drunk now, stuck in a sloshing ship, floor tilting beneath your feet. The urge to get away, to disappear slams into you like a truck, and you slip off the stool. 

“Which way is the bathroom?” She points to one of those dark hallways, and you stumble through the throngs of people like a fresh born fawn, unsteady and teetering on the edge, approaching a hallway that splits into two. 

Which way? 

You pick one, sure you’ll run into someone who can point you in the right direction, but when it zigs and zags up to a polished wooden door, you stop short, confused. The alcohol has rendered you fuzzy, and your vision spins, trying to look for a recognizable placard. 

Is this the bathroom? 

It must be. 

The first thing you realize when you push the door open, is a chorus of men’s voices, stopping on a dime. You hear them, before you see them, and immediately try to backpedal, tugging the door handle towards you, trying to close it. You’re wayward, with heavy, tired feet, and the movement is slow, slow enough that an opposing force pulls on the other side and then- 

rips. 

You fly forward into the room, dragged by your grip on the handle, spilling onto your knees with a shocked gasp, and someone curses in the background, another voice barking out a name. 

Then, the room goes Sunday church service silent. 

You gape at the table of men, transfixed in horror on the two familiar faces staring back at you, the unforgettable Scot and his marble etched partner, who was just in the shop only two days ago. They’re frozen, half risen from their seats, a cigarette burning away in an ash tray filling the air with smoke. 

There’s a nickel-plated flash, and your blood curdles. 

He has a gun. 

“I…” you croak, still on your knees, unable to categorize or rationalize why you’re seeing them here, why one of them has a gun, why any of this is happening. “I’m sorry, I was lo-looking for the bathroom.” There are many men in this room, you realize. More than just the two you’re acquainted with, and your stomach rolls, nausea creeping forward, trying to bring the too many drinks you’ve consumed up through your mouth. “I’m sorry.” You say again, more clearly. 

Obviously, you’re interrupting something. 

“These aren’t the toilets, little girl.” A Russian voice booms over your head. “Unless you’re going to piss on the floor for us?” 

“Nikolai.” The blonde cuts, Manchester accent rougher than sandpaper, and you shake your head frantically. 

“N-no, I just got turned around, that’s all.” Your brain screams at you to get up, but your body is immobile, and you look away in fear. 

A warm hand takes yours, tanned skin soft and sweet, gentle touch urging your face back up. 

“It’s alright, doe. Ye’re alright.” It’s the Scot, crooning in your ear, wrapping an arm around your waist to bring you to your feet. “Let’s get ye to the bathroom then, aye?” You lean against him, breathing in cypress and ocean spray, letting him guide you out of the room, his partner right at your back. 

“We’re not finished.” Someone calls out, and the bigger man clips out a response. 

“We are now.” 

[imaginaryf1shots]

Forced | Charles Leclerc vr.

WC: 16.2K (It started as a 5K word and then I said okay 10K and things went from there)

Charles x reader

Summery: Being threatened and forced into a marriage wasn’t on your mind when you got invited to dinner by your parents.

Warnings: Cursing, forced marriage, bad parents, alcoholic parent, bad childhood, brief suicidal thoughts, half edited. tell me if I missed anything.

A.N: If you’ve read this before, no you haven’t I tried to save it to my drafts while I was at my part time job, and it showed network familiar fast-forward 2 hours and I don’t find it in my drafts, but I see it posted, It wasn’t all uploaded yet.

A/N2: If there has been a one shot I was nervous about positing, it’s this one. So many ups and downs, at one moment I thought about scrapping it but this idea has been in my mind for so long. I feel like I could’ve added so much and I have to remind myself this is a one shot and not a multiple parts series. CARLOS ver. IS COMING, not this week but I’ll start it once I have an outline.(send me ideas if you have any)

Masterlist

Charles Masterlist

Carlos Ver., Max Ver.

In the heart of Monaco, where all the rich, glitz and glamorous people live, the sun dips below the horizon casting a golden hue over the famous skyline of Monaco. The city is intertwined with the rich sport of Formula One. Many of the world's richest people live there, and so does your family. The famous Italian Morelli family, the rich of the rich. Generational wealth, very old money.

The family has been close with the Ferrari family for decades, and so Morelli has invested in the company very early on and has been receiving the benefits for years now. All of the children of the Morelli are born loving everything about cars and racing cars. However the new generation, not so much, they're straying from the driving and going into different ventures, trying different things. Yourself included, maybe when you were young but as you got older you never found yourself interested in cars or any of Ferraris teams in any motorsport, the last time you were at a race was when you were 10 and your parents had to force you to go, after that your older brothers stopped going so you said why can't I stay like them and that was that.

You defied your parents when you went to your choice of university, if it wasn't for you grandfather they would've cut you off, and so you went to art school and graduated with honours, but your parents still weren't there. Your grandfather passed away a few months later making your dad the head of the family.

Since then you've stayed in Italy after going and finishing university there, just the thought about going back to Monaco was out of the question, you have only stayed there during breaks from boarding school in Switzerland, both never feeling like home to you.

However here you are on a plane to Monaco for a mandatory family gathering, apparently something big is happening. the Youngest daughter to the family, the polite and elegant girl of the family, the least disappointment to your parents.

Your father had a driver waiting for you at the airport, not bothering to come himself even though it's been a couple of years since you saw him. Nothing has changed.

Getting ‘home’ yet again no one greeted you at the door but the maid who took your bag to your bedroom, you sighed and walked into the house looking for any sign of your family. You didn’t have to look for long, you found your mother on the balcony nursing a glass of some alcoholic drink, it was just a little after noon, a sight that you’re used to since you were young, your mum always being borderline alcoholic. Your guess is that she turned to the drinks to cope with living with your father, whom she chose to stay with for the glitz and the glamour of being a Morelli.

”Mother.” You greeted her, her head snapped to look at you, some of the liquid spilling as she placed her drink down and stood up, coming up to you with very wide arms pulling you in for a hug, your arms lay limp by your side for a moment before you returned the hug with one arm.

”Oh my baby, I didn’t know when you’d be in.” She said and pulled back to look at you.

”I sent you the details.” You mutter and she waves her hand waving you off.

”Come, come sit down, want a drink?” she asked, walking over to the drinks set on the side, you grimace and shake your head.

”No thanks, it’s a bit early for me.” You sit down across from her and look at the view, the view from the penthouse overlooking the pier, as much as you don't like Monaco the views there are breathtaking. “Where’s father?”

”He’s in a meeting.” She mutters and sips from her drink.

”It’s the weekend.” You reply but she just shrugs, unless he changed, your father never had work on the weekends, he hated them, he hated working anyways so for him to do so is something out of character.

”Your brothers just went out, sadly they didn’t come with any of their children.” Your mum pouted and you rolled your eyes, your mum is so out of touch with everything regarding her family, or anything in general, she acts so oblivious to the dynamic of the family, how all of her children live in other countries have their businesses and don’t want to be associated with the family name, the name she fought so hard to have.

”Okay, well, I’m going to my room to change.” You say and walk off leaving your mum on the balcony, texting your brothers in the group chat that you arrived, you laid down on your bed and scrolled through social media to pass time, you didn’t want to be here at all.

Once your brothers came, they made it to your room, the eldest taking the spot beside you on the bed and the second taking the sofa. It’s been a couple months since you saw them, but they’ve been texting you every now and then. The eldest, Matteo, is 8 years older than you, the second, Marco, is 6 years older, and you’re all at the age now where this difference isn’t that big.

You’ve all lounged around, your laughter ringing in the otherwise silent house. When the sun sat down you were called by the maids for the anticipated dinner. Hopefully everything will go smoothly and you'll be out of Monaco by tomorrow night. When you got to the dining room your father still wasn’t present, but you each took your place at the dinner table, with your mum at the head of the table across from your father’s empty seat and your brother’s each taking a side to your father and you between the oldest and your mum. It didn’t take long before your father arrived, he didn’t bother with pleasantries or hellos, he just took his place at the head of the table and food was served. You all ate in silence only the sound of the silverware hitting the plates is heard, something your mum tried not to grimace at each time.

“So… why are we here?” Matteo asked when the silence stretched for a bit too long for his liking, and he as did everyone minus your father wanted to escape this dinner.

”I have something that I wanted to talk to y/n about and I thought it’s best if you’re all present, as it’ll affect everyone.” Your father said, placing his knife and fork down, he took a sip from his wine glass and ran his eyes over the three of you like a predator, no ounce of love in him, you held your breath in curiosity and dread as the air hummed with anticipation, whatever is about to come can't be good. “As you know, our family has ties with the world of cars and motorsports, and Formula 1 has been a cornerstone of our family’s legacy for decades.”

”Not this again.” Marco mutters and your father gives him a warning look that has Marco clenching his jaw but saying nothing.

”In recent years, and since you three refused to have any hand in the family business or racing of any kind, our influence has waned, our presence diminished.” Your father continued, his voice carrying over the silence with determination, he speaks like you're in mediaeval times Matteo rolls his eyes. Dread fell onto you, you had no idea where this is going since it has to do with you. “I believe it’s time for us to take action.” His gaze sweeping across the room. “To reclaim our rightful place among the elite of Formula 1.” His eyes fall onto you and you forget to breathe, Matteo looking from you to your father. “I just came from a meeting with a Ferrari representative and we’ve come to a conclusion, y/n, we’ve arranged for you to marry Charles Leclerc.” Your fork clatters ringing in the air, your siblings and you are in shock. “This union will restore our family’s honour and secure our place at the top of motorsports history once more.”

As the implication of the head of the Morelli family proposal, no not proposal, fact, words, order, yes his order sank in, a palpable tension hung in the air, uncertainty and apprehension heavy.

And then your brothers were shouting, waving their hands, rage filled them. As for you? You felt betrayal, this is a death sentence to all your aspirations and dreams. Your eyes filled with tears, your throat closing in on you, your eyes fell to your plate and hadn’t moved. You have no idea who Charles even is, you have no idea who any of the Formula 1 drivers are at the moment, you haven't been in that sphere in so long.

”Come one, y/n, we’re leaving.” Matteo says and pulls you up, you stand up emotionlessly, your father still silent as he watched, you followed Matteo when your father spoke just as you were about to leave the room.

”If you don’t agree, then you can all kiss your futures goodbye.” Your father said and he dapped at his mouth with the napkin before he placed it on the table, that stopped you in your tracks along with Matteo and Marco stopped his shouting. closing your eyes, you let go of Matteo’s hand, of course it wouldn’t be that easy, your father wouldn’t just tell you and let you refuse, he had another thing up his sleeve.

”What are you talking about?” Marco asked his glare speaking for itself.

”I mean that, if your sister refuses or if any of you say anything or try to stop this marriage, you Marco will find that your company is suddenly without business and thus you’ll go bankrupt and you have two girls at home and a wife to take care of, and you Matteo, your stocks will plummet and you won’t be able to find a job as long as I live, all your inheritance gone and no trust fund to rely on anymore.” Cruel, he’s so cruel, how can he be your flesh and blood, how can you be related to this man? He’d basically kick you all to the street and his grandchildren as well, he has no heart that’s for certain.

”You can’t do that.” Matteo said but his voice was weaker, he knows his father is capable of doing this and much worse.

”Oh but I can.” Your father said with a smirk, his eyes settling on you once again. “So what will you do, y/n, would you let your brothers go bankrupt leaving them and their families with no money or future? Could you have this on your conscience?”

”This wouldn’t be on hers, it’s you, you’re doing this, don’t act like an innocent by standard when you orchestrated this, this scheme.”

”You know what? go at it, do the best you can, we’re not letting y/n marry someone she doesn’t even know, who the heck is Charles Leclerc anyways, I swear to god father if you make her do this I’ll-“

”I’ll do it.” You said and all eyes snapped to you, a tear left your eye before you whipped it away not letting another one leave your eyes.

”Wh-what?” Marco asked confused by your words.

”I’ll do it, but you have to write everything down, make a contract, that if I go through with it, you’ll leave them alone, the inheritance, the trust fund, everything.”

“No, no, y/n, what are you doing?” Matteo asked shaking his head, he doesn’t like this, he doesn’t want you to do this, his baby sister.

”I’m doing the only thing I can to keep you and your family safe.” You say to his, your eyes leaving your father’s to look at him. ”You just had a baby girl, and Marco, you’re about to have a boy, I can’t let this affect you.” You say to your brothers, Marco falls in his chair in disbelief. “Do we have a deal?”

”We sure do.” Your father says with a wicked grin on his face.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

Earlier that day in Monaco, Charles was on his way to what he assumed was a friendly meeting with some of Ferrari’s officials. His mind was somewhere else, he was thinking about the upcoming race, race strategies, how to secure a spot on the podium, he’s reached a point where he just wants to stand on the podium not win, just be in the top 3. He’s been struggling with the team the whole season and his personal life took a turn since the middle of the last season, it seemed to him that everything is taking a horrible turn. Little did Charles know that what’s about to come is so much worse.

As Charles enters the office, he’s met with a Ferrari executive whose name eluded him at the moment and a man he never met before, but a sense of unease crept over the monegasque man as he took in the seriousness of the situation.

”Charles,” Greeted, the man he didn't know, Charles shook his hand ever the polite man. “I’m Antonio Morelli.”

Charles recognized the name instantly, he knew the history of Ferrari and their ties with the establishment of Ferrari. “Mr. Morelli, it’s lovely to meet you.”

After they finished the introduction and sat down, Antonio sitting across from Charles started speaking. “Charles, this meeting has been set up because we need to talk.”

Confusion flickered across Charles’s features, his brow furrowing in apprehension, he had no idea what Antonio Morelli could ever want with him.

“Of course, about what?”

”It’s about your future and the future of Ferrari.” His heart sank at Antonio's words, this conversation is about to change the trajectory of his life. “As you’re well aware, your recent… actions shall we say, have caused considerable damage to your reputation and more importantly the reputation of Ferrari and the team’s standing in Formula 1.” A wave of irritation surged through Charles at the implication of Antonio’s words, but he had to bite back his tongue and stop the retort that threatened to spill from his lips. He knows this is not the time to argue, and it would only serve to worsen the situation further. “In light of these circumstances, and to save your reputation and your career.” Antonio held eye contact with the driver, his tone cold and unwavering. “I’m afraid I have no choice but to present you with an ultimatum, and you can choose whichever you like, it’s up to you.” Charles’s heart skipped a beat as he braced himself for the oncoming crash, he knew that whatever was in store for him wasn’t good. “You’ll marry y/n Morelli.” He stated as if he wasn’t just offering his daughter up to a man he didn’t know, yes he knows who he is but this is his first time meeting Charles. “Or you will find yourself without a seat in Ferrari and with no future in Formula 1.”

Silence filled the room as it seemed to spin for Charles, his mind is struggling to grasp what was just told to him, it felt like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of him leaving him without air and leaving him reeling with disbelief.

”I uh- but I…” Charles stammered struggling to come up with something to say as his voice is barely a whisper.

”There are no buts, Charles.” Antonio heard him loud and clear, his voice cutting through the turmoil going through Charles and reaching him. “This is your only option to keep your seat, your only chance to salvage and save your seat and career in Formula 1.”

Charles thought about all he went through to reach where he is now, racing in Formula 1 was his lifelong dream and he achieved it, but he hasn’t won a championship yet, he still has so much to achieve, so much to do.

“This isn't just about you Charles, this is about Ferrari as well, its about the fans and how they view you as il predestinato.” The executive said and Charles felt a surge of resentment rise within him, his fists clenching at his sides. How dare they blame him for all their problems? How dare they use him as a scapegoat for their own failings? He knows it's not just about him, it's to distract the fans from the failed car, the tractor he and Carlos are made to drive every week.

But as he met the unwavering gaze of Antonio and the executive, Charles realised that there was no escaping the reality of this ‘predicament’. He was trapped, caught in a web of deceit and manipulation and it looked like there was no escape for him.

With a heavy sigh and his head bowed, and broken spirit he nods his head in acceptance, knowing that he had no choice but to accept. No matter how much it went against everything he believed in, he had to agree, his sense of pride taking a hit. And as he left the room, his footsteps heavy with the weight of his newfound burden, Charles could only wonder what awaited him on the other side of the impossible choice that lay before him.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

Matteo and Marco both took your bag and booked you a hotel room. You had set your mind to the marriage and weren't backing down as long as your father was threatening your brothers, the only family, you count, that you have left.

It took a lot for you to make them stay back when your father called you to tell you to come home to sign the contract and to tell you what the next steps will be like. You get there and the maid greets you as usual, taking your coat, before you make your way to the office. There's a meeting table with 6 chairs placed to the side in the office, used when your father has business meetings at home, so not so often.

You place your bag on the table and sit down, your father soon walks in with a man following him. It turns out to be the lawyer, they sit across from you.

“As we've talked there's two contracts, one for the marriage, you'll share with Charles and the other for your conditions. You can start with that one.” The lawyer stated and you start reading, it takes a while as you focus on every word not wanting to miss a thing. You do find yourself getting emotional as you read, this is all becoming so real, it's actually happening. It takes a lot for you not to show the tornado of emotions swirling inside of you.

“Where do I sign?” You ask meekly and the lawyer points you to where you have to. You sign all the lines and hand him the contract.

“Okay the next one.”

“I need to go to the bathroom.” You mutter and stand up.

“Let's take a break.” Your father excuses you and you head out to the bathroom furthest from the office to hide in there as you're trying to fight the tears. You're literally signing your life away, tying yourself to a man you've never met before. Closing the bathroom door behind you, you splash some cold water onto your face to calm your racing heart. But seeing how weak you look, makes you want to cry more. A few tears manage to slip down your cheeks but you pat them away, trying not to ruin your makeup. Don’t let him see how much this is affecting you, you can’t.

Charles makes it to the address sent to him, he's led to a penthouse so big and fancy it surprised him even though he's been in many expensive houses. You can tell this is owned by a billionaire, everything is a step above all the other places he's been in, yet it looked cold, unloved and un-lived in. Charles couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him, he had greed to this, this arranged marriage out of desperation to keep his career, to keep his name out of the public’s mouths, however the idea of entering a marriage with a complete stranger left him feeling uneasy. When he makes it to the office, he sees Antonio and the lawyer sitting down, the chairs across from them empty, but there’s a purse on the table. Antonio and the lawyer greet him and point him to the seat across from the lawyer, and just as he sits down, the door he closed behind him is opened, and his future wife walks in. Charles looked up the Morelli family but there weren't pictures of the adult children anywhere, when they were young there’s plenty, some at F1 races even, but after a certain point, he found absolutely nothing. What he found is the parents of the family pictured at parties and lavish ad luxuries events and trips.

Charles looked starstruck when he saw you walk in, he doesn’t know what he expected but you look absolutely nothing like your father, you look elegant, soft and so innocent. He reminds himself that you’ve also agreed to this, that you’re the daughter of the man that’s forcing him, how different can you be from your parents?

You saw him in pictures, you’ve read about him, everything you could get under your hand you’ve read. From his beginning in karting to F1, to the scandals he’s been getting into for the last year or so, how much it had affected him and his sponsors. On track he’s still doing good, the best he can in the car he’s given at least, but off track he’s living the life of a fuckboy, all that after he came out of a long time relationship. To you however he’s just the man that agreed to this marriage, to further his career to get to your family’s money, be connected to Formula 1 forever even, you don’t know but you don’t like him and dread the thought of being tied to him just like your mum is to your dad.

With heavy steps you make your way to your seat next to Charles and sit down, you refuse to look at Charles, but he kept glancing at you taking you in, your father had a smirk on his face that just irritated you to no end.

”Okay, let’s go over the key points in the contract together before you both can take it and sign.” The lawyer said. “Charles and y/n, you are both not to be seen in any romantic or intimate position with anyone but each other.” This was mainly for Charles. “The public needs to think that you’re both single for now.” Easy enough you think to yourself. “In a month's time, you’ll start being spotted with each other, but confirm nothing after about 2 months, y/n you’ll be seen at a race.” You already hated this so much. “From there you have to sell that you’re actually in love, we’ll then release a statement saying that you’re in a relationship and things look to be going good. Now, in 9 months you have to get married.”

”That’s not going to be believable, getting married in under a year of knowing each other.” Charles stated wanting to scoff at the stupid plan they had set up, you take the contract and flip through it reading all the conditions the things you have to do.

”And that’s why you’ll say that you’ve known each other for a long time, and you’ve just started dating recently.” Antonio said and gave a challenging look, that shut him up straight away.

“Why do I have to move back to Monaco?” You ask frowning, you hate this country, it may be small but you hate it, you’ve just gotten out of it permanently not even five years ago.

”Because this is where Charles lives-“ You cut your dad off.

”But he can move to Italy, it’s not that far.” Your dad wasn’t happy about you cutting him off but you didn't care, your life is in Italy not in Monaco. “And he races most of the year so he’s not in Monaco most of the time.”

”y/n, Monaco is the home of Formula 1, it wouldn’t make sense to move to Italy, keep your house there if you want and go there from time to time, but you will live in Monaco.” You huff but say nothing else, wanting this hell to end already. You’re both given pens to sign the contracts and before the ink even has time to dry you leave the room, leaving the three men watching after you.

Charles asks himself what he had gotten himself into, to him you sounded like a brat throwing a tantrum, because she couldn’t get the smallest thing she wanted, and now he’s stuck with you. Now your fates are sealed, intertwined. And you’re both losing hope.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

In the next month you don’t see Charles, he was off racing, and you were back in Italy, you’ll postpone your move as much as you can, your life is all in Italy, it’s where you’re living, working, that’s where your friends are.

Both you and Charles were sent booklets with all the information that you may be asked about for the other and you had to memorise it. You took the booklet and never bothered to open it, you weren’t about to make this easy, just because you signed doesn’t mean it’s all smooth sailing from here. Charles however read everything, he wanted to know who you are, he hadn’t gotten the luxury of finding a wiki page or an article about you.

The media and everyone around Charles notice a difference in him, he doesn't go out or sleep around anymore, but he’s also quieter and more reserved than before. Whenever he was asked about his mode or why he’s changed, he’d just deflect the question, change the subject or simply just shrug. Charles did find himself thinking about his future all the time, regret and second thoughts clouded his mind, but it was all too late now.

It was between races when you flew back to Monaco to meet Charles for your first ‘date’. In your time in Monaco you’ve booked a hotel room to stay in, not wanting to see your parents if not needed. You met Charles at the location sent to you by your father, you still don’t have Charles’ number.

It was a small and cosy cafe, where you’re both to sit and eat for an hour or so, there will be a paid photographer (paparazzi) waiting to snap pictures of you both. You arrived first and took a table near the window, but had your back to it, not wanting your face out there straight away. You tapped your fingers on the table as you waited for the Formula 1 driver to arrive. This ‘date’ to many would be a dream, but to you it had kept you up at night, dark circles under your eyes were covered by layers of concealer.

”Uh, hi.” Charles says and takes the seat in front of you, you give him a small fake smile in return.

”Hi.” You greet him back, and then there’s a long stretch of silence, that is so awkward you wanted to kill yourself, what do you say to your future husband that you’re forced to marry on your first ‘date’? Thankfully a waitress comes by and places two menus in front of you, and so you take your time flipping through, Charles has been here many times before, he knows what he’ll order so he takes the time to shamelessly look at you. He does admit that if it weren’t for the whole marriage thing, if he saw you somewhere he’d ask you out, too bad you’re a Morelli that he’s forced to marry. “Do you know what you’ll order?”

”Yeah, do you?”

”Yes.” You both order what you want before falling into silence. Charles clears his throat, searching for something, anything to break the awkward silence.

”So… how was your day?” He asked eventually, cringing slightly at his own words, you blink at him not expecting him to talk to you at all, you hesitate for a moment before you find your voice to respond.

”Fine, thank you.” Your tone is a little guarded, on edge, not trusting Charles, but you decide to play along and return the question. “How was your day?”

”It’s way okay.” And that was the end of it before your food arrived, you eat in silence both glancing at the other from time to time. This is suffocating, it just dawned on you that this will be your life from now on.

”This is awkward, maybe we can, I don't know, try to talk maybe?” You were uncertain and admittedly very awkward, but you have to get over the silence, you hate silence like this, you’re very talkative by nature, the only time you’re silent is when you’re uncomfortable.

”Okay, we have to act like we like each other anyways.” Charles muttered and took a sip from his water. “Did you come from Italy?”

”Yeah, early this morning, you were in Spain right?” You think you’ve seen that they were racing in Spain somewhere online.

”Yes, a couple days ago.” You nod to his words and fall silent again. “Nice weather today.”

You couldn’t help yourself but laugh, nothing is truly funny, but look at you talking about the weather and nonsense, trivial things, the irony of the situation is so funny. Charles smiles as he sees you laughing, he didn’t expect it but it’s his first time seeing you do more than a fake smile, you’re usually stoic, no emotions at all.

“I’m so sorry, it’s just this whole thing is just so…”

”Weird.”

”Yes.”

”Believe me I know.”

This breaks the ice a little, you still talk about trivial things, nothing personal at all, you talk about Italy he tells you about Spain, what countries you both think is better than the other, trivial, not important talk. But talk you did. As an hour came to close, you both paid for your part of the late lunch, Charles didn’t put up a fight when you said you’ll pay half of the food, he felt like you’re not at the point where he can offer to pay.

Walking outside you look up at him and give him one of those small smiles, that to him looked practiced and not genuine.

“I guess, I’ll see you at our next scheduled, uh ‘date’.” You say doing air quotes at the date part.

“Yeah, sure.” You turn to leave before Charles stops you. “Wait, let me get your number, so we don’t have to go through people to schedule something.”

“Great idea.” You mutter and take out your phone and you both exchange numbers. “Okay, bye.”

“Bye.”

With that you both went on your own ways, you went to walk around and get to your hotel, the weather is nice after all, and Charles went with him in his car.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

You and Charles went on a few more ‘dates’ each one with more pictures online, no one has figured out who you were yet, something you were forever thankful for.

F1Gossip

Liked by username5, username320, and 302,582

hear me out! I think charles is over his hoe era, in the last month he’s been seen with the same girl in Monaco, Austria and Hungary. I repeat it’s the same girl.

No one knows who she is but or what she does but could this be Charles new girlfriend?

More comments

username234 honestly good for him

username20 FINALLY!! I was over him with a different girl each week 💃

username083 I wonder who she is

username72 not good enough for charles that’s for sure 🤢

username294 i bet it’s just another girl who he flies around w/ him so he wouldnt have to go out and look for one

username498 come one guys we don’t even know who she is

username903 it’s giving me gold digger vibes

username465 Charles be careful

username983 seriously these comments are not it 🙄

username438 shut up no one asked you

username983 and I don’t remember charles asking for your opinion

username438 stop asking like you know him when you dont

username983 says yyou

username474 I don’t like this 😒

username832 me neither

username094 this is whey drivers dont post their relationships because you people dont even know who the poor girl is and you’re already attacking her

username873 Olivia was better

username384 girl they ended over a year ago get over it

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

You’ve seen the photos and you’re impressed with how much you and Charles managed to sell it, one thing you didn't like is the comments, you’re dreading the moment they find out who you were. You and Charles would usually meet up somewhere for half an hour, once you got the okay that the pictures were good you’d both go your separate ways. Now he has his summer break which he’s spending in Monaco, so once more you fly to Monaco to start the next part of the ‘plan’. The soft launch.

Your socials are all private, but soon you’ll have to make them public, another thing you have to change. You made it to Charles yacht in Monaco, he was already there waiting for you.

”Hi.” You greet the Monegasque, with a wave of your hand and a small smile, Charles returns your greeting and helps you get on the yacht. You settle down as Charles gets the yacht out in the water for a good spot. You brought your sketchbook with you, you’ve had a few ideas about some paintings for a gallery you wanted to be part of and inspiration just hit you that morning, so as Charles sailed for a bit you sat at the table and brought up your supplies. You’re the kind of artist that likes to sketch things out before putting them to the canvas.

”What are you drawing?” Charles asks you when he comes in.

”Just a sketch for a painting I want to do.” You say and look up at him to see him handing you a drink. “Thank you.”

”I never saw any of your work before.” Charles stated and you smile taking out your phone, you always love showing off your work. Not many people in your life were interested in art besides those you met in uni so when you find someone you just want to show them.

”I’ll show you.” Charles sits next to you and looks at the phone, and suddenly he’s seeing a side to you that he’s never seen before, your face is bright and the smile on your face is true, this is your passion. you’re explaining to him what each piece is about and what they mean, the colours, the composition, what inspired it. In the next 30 minutes he’s heard more from you than he’s heard in the last month. Charles is smiling at you when you realise you’ve been ranting for a while. “What?”

”I just never seen this side of you before.” He shrugs and you sigh leaning back in your seat, angled slightly to his side.

”We don’t know each other, I only know what I’ve seen online.” You tell him, your smile is long gone, and you find yourself needing to talk to him about the arrangement, you both have never talked about it before.

”You haven’t read the booklet?” He asked confused, he’s read his over and over again.

”Just the first page, it’s all stuff you can find online anyways, besides I bet you mine is just filled with things my parents think they know about me, but aren’t true.” Charles is confused by your words, he’s been under the impression that you wanted this marriage to happen, that this was a part of your plan. It seems to him now that your relationship with your parents is a bit rocky.

“I feel like there's a lot of things we should talk about.” Charles said as he got the feeling that maybe you aren't as welling as he originally thought.

“True, I actually hoped to talk to you.” You said and were Facing Charles fully, he also turned to face you, your knees touching lightly. “Look, I know you that we don't know each other, and that there's things that we both want to do that this marriage wouldn't allow us to do, so I have a proposal.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

“I wouldn't mind you being with other girls, we'll be married in a few months and i know I'm not your type, so do whatever you want just keep to discreet.” Charles was dumbfounded by your words, he cant believe that this is what you think of him. He's also a bit irritated. But what can he say, his attractivities haven't been the most private as of late. “But, I'm Keeping my house in Italy and I'll go Monaco if I have to and nothing else.”

“Sounds fair.” Charles said and you put out your hand for a handshake, which he returned. “There's no reason for us not to be friends.”

“True, I mean we're stuck together for life now.” You say and shrug. “We should take some pictures for Instagram.”

You both go out and begin the small photoshoot you had to do. Posing and taking pictures to choose one for Charles to post on his stories.

By the time the Yacht docked the sun was nearly down, Charles got off first and helped get off.

“When are you leaving?” Charles asked as you both walked to the parking lot, you rented a car this time around.

“As soon as I find a plane, I usually don't book my return flight until I'm sure we have everything we need.” You explain and he nods. “Why?”

“Well, you see…” Charles rubbed the back of his head nervously, he didn't want to bring it up but he's been putting it off for so long. “My mum wants to meet you.”

“What? Why?” you're confused why his mum would want to meet you, unless. “She thinks this is real?”

“I couldn't tell her, it would break her heart, she would feel guilty and upset and I can't do that to her believe me I tried but everytime I couldn't.” Charles went on a mini rant, now this a side to him you never saw. You can tell how much he cares and lives his mum, you couldn't say you understand his feeling but just from hearing him you can sort of empathise with him.

“Okay, I'll do it.” You say and he stops from talking and looks at you, with wide eyes.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it means alot to you, I’ll play my part.” You shrug, not thinking much about your choice. “Practice anyway, we haven’t acted as a couple in front of anyone really.”

“Thank you.”

”No worries.”

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

The next day, you got dressed and headed to Charles’s house where his family was gathering for an early dinner and a night together, enjoying the time where the three Leclerc boys had nothing to do. When you arrived, you could hear the laughter from inside, making you pause as the nerves came at full force, your hands started to shake and you had to pause before ringing the bell a few times. Taking a deep breath you pressed the bell, and waited. The door opened and you saw Charles, he must’ve been laughing before he opened the door because he had a big smile on that showed his dimples, and they didn’t dim when he saw you. You gave him a nervous smile.

”Hey, come in.” He greeted you and walked in seeing some of his family, this must be the reason behind the smile and the friendliness. Yes Charles has never been rude to you but you wouldn't call him friendly or loving or caring. Neither have you to be honest, so you wouldn’t blame him. You give Charles a quick hug and press your cheek to his in greeting. You put on your diplomatic smile that you had perfected when you were in boarding school, and look at the Leclercs, thankfully it wasn’t the whole family, just the boys and their mother. “Maman, this is y/n, the one I told you about.”

”Ah, y/n it's lovely to meet you.” Pascal comes up and pulls up in for a hug, that you clearly weren’t expecting, your eyes went wide for a bit before you returned the hug. Her smile and hug came in as a relief amidst the lies and the unknown tension between her and Charles.

”It’s lovely to meet you as well, Mrs. Leclerc.” You say in perfect french, and pull back to see her grinning face, all your words and smiles felt hollow, meaningless , you know the truth behind all this and it isn’t easy to lie to someone who’s so affected by it.

”Oh please call me Pascal, Charles didn’t tell me you speak French.” Pascal says and pulls you behind her to the living room where the other other Leclerc boys are.(after this point everything is French between the French speakers)

”Must’ve wanted to surprise you.” You say smoothly and smile as you shake hands with Arthur before you do the same to Lorenzo, who seemed reluctant, but you think nothing of it. His brother did sleep around with lots of women recently, and you’re the first one they’ve met in a while as well.

”I wonder what else he didn’t tell me.” Pascal gives Charles a look and he shrugs with a smile, he didn’t know you could speak French, it wasn’t in the booklet, it said you speak Italian, English and German.

“Maman, I just wanted you to find out from her.” Charles says and sits down next to you on the sofa.

”y/n, you’ve come at a good time, I was finishing the food.” Pascal said and went to go to the kitchen before you stopped her.

”Do you need help?” You ask standing to follow her but she refuses your help and tells Arthur to come help her instead. With a groan the youngest follows his mother to the kitchen and you’re left with the oldest two.

”So what exactly do you do, y/n?” Enzo asks, the way he said your name left a bad feeling in you, you looked at Charles and he gave you a nod in reassurance, but it did nothing to ease you at all. You’re in the lion’s den right now.

”I’m an artist.” You say with a polite smile.

”So you don’t work.” He said simply and your smile falls.

”Enzo.”

”What? I’m just getting to know your wife.” Enzo said and you freeze. His tone is sarcastic, your heart sank and your facade dropping. “Oops not yet I guess.”

“Come on, let’s eat.” You’ve only just met Arthur but you've never been grateful for anyone in your life. Enzo leaves the room first and you turn to look at Charles with fire in your eyes.

”You told him.” You hiss glaring at the Ferrari driver.

”Yes, I had to tell someone, and he won’t tell anyone.” Charles defends himself and you roll your eyes. “Your whole family knows.”

”Yes, but you know that, why didn't you tell me?” You huff, not liking how he didn't tell you.

”I just didn’t have the chance.”

”How convenient.” You walk away from Charles and to the dining room, where they were all sitting down, the polite fake smile was back on your face. You sat down in a chair and Charles sat next to you. You were back to playing boyfriend and girlfriend, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of Enzo’s eyes on you. Another thing you’ve noticed is how loving the family is, even Enzo’s anger is justified and comes out from a place of love. Your brothers love you but you weren't raised with love around you and it shows in how people act and interact with each other. You did get to know the family a lot that day, with good food, good wine, and amazing company. But at the end of the night when Pascal made Charles drive you home/hotel since he didn’t drink and you did, you sat in silence as the guilt ate at you slowly, you were looking out the window from Charles’s Ferrari watching the scenery lost in thought.

”I didn’t know you spoke French.” Charles said breaking the silence and bringing you out of your thoughts, you turn to look at him.

”Yeah, I’ve been speaking it since I was young.”

”It’s not in the booklet.” You laugh at his words and little pout he had on his face, looks like someone took reading the booklet to heart.

”Told you it’s not all true, I refused to speak French to my parents after the age of 9.” You told him and he gave you a questioning look filled with curiously, your family dynamic alway puzzling him and leaving him utterly confused. “They always wanted me to do this or that, and at home we always spoke Italian and then suddenly they wanted us to speak French, I learnt it but never spoke it in front of them, I speak six languages fluently, and know the basics of a few more.”

”SIX!” Charles is impressed, he speaks three and that was hard for him, imagine six.

”Yeah.” You chuckle at his surprise and bring out your hands to count them down. “Italian, because I’m Italian, French because Monaco, duh, German because of my school in Switzerland, English is a language everyone just learns, Spanish because I went to a trip to Spain in 8th grade and loved the language and then Dutch cause why not, and it has some similarities to German when it comes to vocabulary.”

“Wow, I’m impressed, and surprised more impressed though.” Charles says and you smile a genuine smile.

”I’m glad to impress, and if you ever need a translator you know who to find.”

Charles came to a stop in front of the hotel, he never asked why you never stay with your family when you’re here but he could only guess. “You know, you don't have to stay at a hotel, every time you're here.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.” You say unbuckling your seatbelt.

”You wouldn’t.”

”I don’t know, maybe you’d have some company, I’m okay here seriously.” Charles sighed and here it is again your thoughts of him.

”I haven’t been with anyone since I’ve signed the contract.”

”Why.”

”Because no matter what, I’m not a cheater.”

”But we’re not in a relationship.” silence

”Have you been with anyone?”

”No, that’s not what i meant, I just mean that you can live your life how you want it.”

”Well, I don’t want to be a cheater we’re getting married in a few months.”

”Well, I’m not with anyone and haven’t been in almost a year.”

”Okay.”

”Okay, see you later Charles.”

”See you.”

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

Charles_leclerc

Liked by Landonorris, Maxverstappen1, your username and 3,380,394 others

No place like Monaco ❤️

More Comments

username93 we saw the last slide charles

username24 Charles in his soft launch era 🔥

username37 does this mean the end to his hoe era for real

username76 I’m going to miss fuckboy Charles

username37 You’ll be missed charles 💔

username83 you all think its the same girl from the paparazzi pictures 🤔

username69 I think so, same hair and everything

Landonorris 👀

Carlossainz55 when did this happen?

username28 lol not even his friends knew

username86 I bet @/pierregasly knows what up

Pierregasly not this time

username08 can’t believe there’s a day where Pierre is as clueless as we are

username90 I bet she’ll be gone in a week or two

username87 Uh who is this?

username48 Charles be careful there’s a gold digger trying to leach of you 🤮🐍

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

Charles posted a few more times, without bringing your face in continuing the soft launch part of the ‘plan’. you’ve met his mother another time, and like the first time, seeing her so happy for Charles and being in love with you left you with guilt that kept you up at night. Alas it was time for you to make your appearance at a race, your dad had talk to you on the phone and told you to hurry up, he also tried to arrange for a ‘family dinner’ that you’ve refused over and over again. With that being said you texted Charles and you both agree for you to go to the race in the Netherlands. You’ve arrived separately from Charles in, coming from Italy. Charles’s room was a suite at the hotel, with a big sofa and a king sized bed. Charles arrived a day before you and was already out for media duties for quite some time, you had a work obligation that you couldn’t get out of and you haven’t really tried.

By the time you arrived and were out of the airport and at the hotel it was already getting dark out, you got into Charles’s room with the key he left for you at the reception. The room was clean, you've noticed with his suitcase open on the side, the first thing you did was shower and get into some lounge clothes, it was an oversized set that you wore around the house when you had guests over usually, not the usual boxer shorts and bralette you enjoyed.

Your phone has been going for a good 15 minutes now, making you sigh and go to the balcony to get fresh air with your phone in hand as you willed yourself to pick up. It was night time, and you had only turned the side lamp on in the room, making very faint light come out to the outside. after staring at the screen for what felt like eternity and with a shaky breath, you finally muster the courage to pick up his latest call. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

”y/n, finally, I’ve been calling you for days now.” Your father’s voice rang through the line, it was laced with irritation and anger, all directed towards her, as always leaving her shaky and scared.

”Sorry, father, I’ve been busy.” Your voice is barely over a whisper, a strained silence hung in the air for a moment, your hold on the phone tightened.

”Look, I’ve been patient enough with both you and Charles, but if you keep ignoring me and not doing as I asked, then your brothers will bare the consequences of your action, or none there of.” His tone was serious and unyielding, making you feel like a child once more.

“We will, I promise, tomorrow I’m going to the paddock.” You tell him straight after, and you hate how you want to please him just to get him off your back, the fear in you not lessening with age, he still has a hold over you.

“Good, that’s good.” He hummed and you hear your mother talking next to him for a moment before he’s speaking again. “Your mother is asking when you’ll be over for dinner with Charles.”

”I don’t know, we’re both super busy and-“

”And nothing, you come here as soon as you can, I’ll have none of this busy nonsense.” Your father interrupts his tone firm. “It’s time for the excuses to stop, I’ve been letting you handle how you get it out to the public on your own, but what I say goes.”

”I’ll talk to Charles, we’ll-we’ll figure something out.” You mutter and tears gather in your eyes, you try to fight them but like always when it came to your father they just fall freely. No matter what, you have no choice but to complain with his wishes/demands. For some reason after meeting his family, the thought of Charles seeing yours is leaving you with a sense of dread and despair. soft sobs leave your mouth in waves, you look out at the view, you’re high, the street looks far away, and you wonder, just for a second, if you jump would you die instantly or would you be in pain, is that kind of pain better or worse that the one you’re in. shaking your head away from those thoughts, you turn to go inside.

Unbeknownst to you Charles has made it to the hotel room, just to catch the last of the conversation, and he’s heard you cry. He stood in the bedroom just watching you crumple under the weight of your emotions, a few times he had to stop himself form going to you and pulling you in for a hug.

When he sees you turning to come back inside he makes his way to the door of the room and acts like he just came in.

”Hey.” Charles greets you softly, he couldn’t act happy when he just saw you falling apart.

”Hey.” You put on a brave smile but he could see your wet cheeks and red eyes, your nose red as well. “How was today?”

”It was okay, tiring, but good.” Charles says and his eyes don’t leave your figure as he watched you escaping to the sofa where you practically had your back to him.

”That’s good, I’m tired as well, I think I’ll go to bed now.” You say and pull on the extra covers you found in the closet.

”Now? did you eat?”

“No, but I’m tired and not hungry.”

”Oh, okay, sleep well then.”

”Thanks, you too.”

Charles walks into the bedroom and closes the door lightly, you’re not sleeping and you won't find sleep for a while, your mind is swirling with emotions and thoughts that are hunting you down. You don’t cry but a few tears slip as you try not to think about what tomorrow will hold or all the things you have to do.

The next day, you wake up bright and early, before Charles’s alarm goes off, you don't need to shower since you did the night before, but you slip into the bathroom, and start on your makeup, and get dressed. You know that every single thing about you will be all over social media and criticised and analysed by thousands if not millions of people Charles has over 10 million followers on Instagram after all. When Charles was up, you were just finishing up your hair, the door was open. You heard movement from behind you and looked up through the mirror to see a shirtless half asleep Charles, his sweatpants low on his hips, your hands stopped mid air with your curling iron. You’re just a woman, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wonder, starting with his messy and tousled hair moving to his chest and arms and his abs.

“Morning.” His morning voice made you blink and look away, you had to swallow before you were able to regain your composure and your voice.

“Morning, I’m almost done.” You say and focus on not looking at him and just looking at what you were doing.

”That’s okay.” Charles says and goes to the second sink in the bathroom next to you and starts brushing his teeth, you both were doing your business in silence but your eyes wonder to him every few seconds, his eyes was half closed and he was half asleep still, so for you it was a blessing, being able to look at him as much as you wanted, so you admired him without him seeing.

You’re finished before him and leave the bathroom, it didn’t take long for him to be ready, dressed in his Ferrari team kit and a pair of skinny jeans, you bite your tongue not to comment on it, you’re not close for you to say anything about his choice of clothes.

On the ride to the track, you felt a sense of anticipation and excitement, your eyes looking outside the window taking in the city, after today your life as you know it will change. Every single thing you do will be under the microscope, you felt like a teen again but this time it’s not going to be just your parents watching, it’s going to be thousands of people, all with their opinions that they’re not afraid of saying, online at least.

”It’s going to be okay.” Charles said and you turned to look at him only to find him already looking at you. “You don’t have to be nervous, after we go inside, you can stay in my room if you want.”

”No it’s okay, I can do it.” You tell him with a grateful smile, as far as arranged marriages go, Charles isn’t the worst option, if you met in other circumstances you wouldn’t have gone for him simply for his career choice in F1 but you’re glad it’s not someone worse.

When you make it there and park, Charles gets out first and walks to your side opening the door, all with a smile on his face, he helps you out of the Ferrari and you get out and take your first look around, there’s fans everywhere all screaming and shouting his name. Some of his team are already waiting for him, and when he goes to sign caps and merch, one of the females introduces herself and stands with you. you ask her about her job and make small talk, while you’re waiting. She also gives you your pass that Charles requested and you put it around your neck.

“He’s signing a lot of things.” You observe your ‘boyfriend’ as he’s going from one person to the other.

“Yeah, he’s known for singing anything.” You hum and watch how nice Charles is with everyone. “We usually have to pull him away.”

They did pull him away and inside the paddock you guys went. Charles let you walk a bit behind him, knowing that photos of him will be taken and you’re nervous enough, he didn’t want to make it worse for you. it’s been so long since you’ve been at a race it feels like a life time ago, you forgot the sheer magnitude of the event, the air was alive with the hustle and bustle of people around you, creating an atmosphere that’s charged with excitement, and anticipation. After a long walk you make it to Ferrari’s motorhome, Charles introduces you to a few people who you can stick with when he’s on duty. His hand was on the small of your back when he was leading you through the crowds, but other than that you both weren’t showing any signs of affection at all. That didn’t change the fact that once he was in his race suit and it was hanging but his waist you were looking, it was today that you’ve realised how fit he is, he doesn’t just have a good face but a fit body as well.

Watching FP1 brought back all your memories of when you enjoyed racing, I mean how could you not, you’re a Morelli it’s in your blood. Maybe if your relationship was different with your parents who knows where you’d be today. In effort to distance yourself from your parents you’ve strayed from a lot of things that you enjoyed that they loved or wanted you to do.

Between the practice sessions Charles took you with him to get lunch at the cafeteria, he had to stick to his diet and you choose whatever you wanted. sitting down you’re soon joined by Carlos Sainz, you haven’t met him yet, but you saw him when you were looking up Charles online and his face is everywhere along with all the other drivers.

”Hey mate, you haven’t introduced us.” Carlos said and sat down across from the two of you, Charles was telling you about what to expect during the rest of the day and the next two days before he was cut off by his teammate.

”Carlos meet y/n, y/n meet Carlos.” Charles introduced you and you gave the Spanish driver a smile and offered to shake his hand.

”Hey Carlos.”

“Hello, I didn’t know Charles was bringing anyone with him today.” Carlos said before he started eating.

“Yes, I had work and we weren’t sure if I could make it or not.” Half a lie, you knew you’d be here for a while but you did have work.

“Ah, so what do you do?” Carlos asked and he was expecting to hear a model.

”An artist.” Carlos was surprised and proceeded to ask you about what kind of art, where you studied and about living in Italy. The three if you walked back to the brahe together that’s when Charles informed his teammate that you speak Spanish.

”You know y/n speaks Spanish, she says fluently but I’m not good enough to verify that.” Charles said and you gave him a look that had him laughing.

”You don’t believe me?” You ask him and he shrugs innocently.

"No need to worry, I can verify it for you." Carlos fake comforted his teammate and turned to you. "So where did you learn Spanish?"

"I took online classes when I was in 8th grade." You told him and he was impressed, you laughed at his surprised look, you are fluent and your accent is good. "I went to Spain once and just loved the language."

"Mate, she's fluent." Carlos turned to look at Charles who laughed at the two of you, Carlos then turned and continued talking to you. Charles was needed for something and so he left the two of you talking, Carlos was asking you about where you went in Spain and if you want to go again, he recommended a few places and then he learnt you spoke six languages, and so you were made to talk to him in all of them and his face was priceless, had you laughing. He may not have understood everything but he

knows enough to know you're fluent.

"Charles, where did you find this one?" Carlos joked with Charles when he came back, and that had your smile faltering and for Charles to freeze a bit, if Carlos noticed he said nothing.

“It’s a secret.”

“Fine, have your secrets.”

The rest of the day went by nicely and seamlessly, the Ferrari boys did good, no one was beating Max but they've done good. You haven't checked your phone all day, when you made it back to the hotel, Charles went to shower and you laid on the sofa to scroll through. Your Instagram account has gained over 10K followers, you had pictures of your work more than ones of you, but the secret is out, now everyone knows you. You didn't dare check Twitter; the app always scares you.

You heard the shower turn off, when you got a call from your father you contemplated not answering but knowing this would make it much worse you just picked up.

“Hello.” you say on the phone and close your eyes tight, your head on the pillow.

“What do you think you're doing?” Was the first thing you heard, he was angry very angry at what you have no idea.

“Wh-”

“Shut up I'm not done talking, do you know what you've done, why are there more pictures of you and Carlos than with you and Charles. Do you want to ruin the family reputation, do you not take this seriously?”

“What are you talking about?” Today was good. You had fun today and you've done everything he asked you to do, yes reluctantly and you push it off but you do it nonetheless, you sit up as you get agitated. “I've done EVERYTHING you asked me to do, I was just talking to Carlos, there's nothing to it.”

“Don't you fucking talk back to me young lady, haven't done anything good your whole life, you never listen, tomorrow I better see you and Charles selling this or you'll feel the consequences to your actions.” He hangs up and you throw your phone away, cursing under your breath your body shakes with sobs, your head in your hands. Nothing is ever enough for your father, you're never enough.

Charles sighs and this time he doesn't think about it he sits down beside you and pulls you in for a hug, you let him, your face hiding in his neck. Charles shushes you and holds you, you're clutching his shirt in your fist. Charles has a good heart he

doesn't like seeing people crying and he's come to see you as a friend now, a new friend that he's getting to know. It makes him angry that a father would make their daughter cry this much and wouldn't care, he feels blessed for having his parents and makes him feel bad for you. Your childhood must've not been easy. He whispers words of comfort in French and lets you let it all out, your body is shaking for a while

before you slowly stop, when Charles looks down he sees you sleeping. He moves you slowly not wanting to wake you up and carries you bridal style, and he manages to get you to bed before you begin to stir.

"What?" you say confused.

"Hey, just sleep." Charles says and pushes your hair out of your face, you look around and realise you're in his bed.

“No, this is your bed.” You tell him and try to get up but he stops you.

“Just sleep, it can't be that comfortable on the sofa.” He says and you lay back down.

“But you have work tomorrow.” You mutter and rub your eye, it's a bit sensitive from all the crying you've been doing.

“It's fine, a night on the sofa wouldn't hurt me.” Charles says with a smile but you're stubborn, you’re not about to let a man that drives fast cars for a living sleep on the sofa and wake up with back pains.

“Well the bed is big, we can share.” You say and Charles looks at you, he takes you in, you're half asleep, your eyes puffy and bloodshot with tones of worries and things to think about but here you are wanting to make sure he's okay and comfortable.

“Okay, yeah.” Before Charles could make it to his side of the bed you're already asleep, he lays there and wonders how many times you've cried yourself to sleep, how many sleepless nights you've had, how many times you went though restless days by yourself. He knows you have two brothers, he knows they're kind to you that they're not like your parents, but they're not in your life, it seemed to him that they moved out once they were old enough and forgot about you a little, both with their own lives now.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

The next morning Charles asks you what your father wanted and you didn't really want to tell him at first but he managed to get it out of you.

"Just tell me from now on, we're both in this not just you." Charles tells you as he drives to the circuit.

“But this is your life, and this is your career and I just don't want to be a burden or for you to have to think that you have to be stuck with me all day or something.” You tell him, angling yourself to face him.

“y/n, we're a team, okay, for this to work we have to be always on the same page and I consider you my friend now, so just let me help you where I can and you help me where you can okay?” You smile at his words, a team, you have someone on your team.

“Okay.”

When you make it to the circuit, it's a repeat of the day before, you stand to the side while Charles does his thing and he walks in front of you, but half way through he stops and holds his hand out for you with a smile, you blink a couple of times before you take his hand. When you get to the garage Charles is whisked away for debrief and you're left there, you were looking at his car admiring the Ferrari, when a mechanic sees you and walks over.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" He asks and you look up at him with a smile.

“Yeah, it's been years since I was this close to a Formula 1 car.” You tell him, there's rumours around that you're a Morelli and everyone in Ferrari knows of your family, so it takes him by no surprise that you've been close to one before. “It's so different from the ones in the early 2000s.”

“Much different, we have done a lot of changes, look…” And he begins showing you what has changed, why cars nowadays are faster and stronger, the aerodynamics and mechanical differences, some things go over your head, but you know the basics of a formula 1 car.

When Charles finishes up, he sees you talking with the mechanic. He's leaning over the halo as he's showing you something, Charles smiles and walks over.

“Do you want to get in?” Charles asks and you turn to look at him startled, and excited, giddy even.

“Can I?” You ask with a grin and he nods, one of the PR crew takes out his phone to video this while another takes pictures, you're a Morelli and you're getting into the car and Charles is now back in a committed relationship so he's back in his good boy era, all things that made them want to document this happening.

“Place your foot here.” Charles says and points to a spot, you do as he says and he holds on to your waist as you wobble a little before you push yourself up and over the halo, he removes the steering wheel before you sit down and watches you as you get comfortable in his car. His smile is big on his face as you get excited.

“This is amazing.” You say and Charles puts back the steering wheel. You put your hands on the wheel. “So many buttons.”

“Can you reach the paddle?” Charles asked amused, he can tell that the seat is a bit big for you, you wiggle your leg and shake your head no.

“You should be thankful I'm shorter or I would've taken your seat.” You tease him and a few people laugh.

“You like the view from the car?” Charles asks and you nod looking up at him, he's leaning over the halo to look at you.

“Yeah, last time I was inside one I was like 6 or 7.” You tell him and he hums to himself, always finding something new about you, you were right about the fact that the booklet had many wrong things, it missed a lot as well.

At one point in the day Fred came over to say hello to you, he like everyone found out who you were.

“Ms. Morelli, it's nice to meet you.” You shake his hand and smile at the team principal.

“Please call me y/n, it's nice to meet you too.”

“It's been a while since we saw one of the Morelli's in the paddock.” Fred said and you felt Charles move a bit beside you. “haven't seen your father as well.”

“Yeah, well me and my siblings went to school and then uni and just were so busy.” You say and don't mention your father, he has a lot of influence in Ferrari. Charles has a hand on your back in comfort, it seems that after yesterday he's taken the role of comforting you, there's something that has definitely changed in your relationship, you've grown closer and you feel comfortable around each other.

“Yes of course, who knew it'll be Charles that'll bring you back.” He commented and you looked at Charles and smiled, he returned the smile with one of his own. You both knew the truth behind everything and it was killing you both to have to be lying to everyone like that, but why is it getting easier, why is it that since you've grown closer and find more about the other that it's not necessarily all lies.

The rest of the weekend went along great, you met a lot of people and as expected your name and your family's relation to Ferrari was everywhere. Those calling you a gold-digger have now turned to calling you attention seeker. You did post pictures of you to Instagram and the Ferrari team posted the video of you getting in the car, and somehow they found pictures of you in an F1 car from the 2000s, you've never seen that picture before but here it was. Charles texted you saying how you've been in a Ferrari way earlier than him, making you laugh imagining him pouting a little at the thought. After that weekend you've been texting more, talking more and just discovering everything about the other.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

A day before Charles has to fly to Monza you've both in Monaco for the 'family dinner' you've been dreading so much. You've made it to Charles's house to meet there before you head 'home'. Charles was in his bedroom finishing getting ready and you were on the sofa scrolling through your social media and texting your brothers to see when they'll be there.

“Is this okay?” Charles asks, coming out of his bedroom you look up from your phone and see him in a tan dress shirt, a blazer with a pair of dark pants, not skinny, he has one of his watches on and no other accessories. He. Looked. HOT.

“Yeah, just lose the jacket.” You say and stand up, he takes his jacket off and places it to the side. He holds his arms out for your opinion and you smile. Oh if you were a normal couple going to see your normal family, this would've been perfect. Instead you're going to see the man that's been threatening you both. You left your small carry-on at Charles' house, planning to head back to his, so you could fly out to Italy together.

Charles drove the small distance to your family house and parked in the space that's meant for you. You got a text from your brothers Telling you they're already there.

“Are you ready?” You ask Charles in the elevator.

“Yes, are you?” He doesn't want to see your father ever again, but this is much worse for you, you're related to that man.

“As I'll ever be.” You hesitate for a second before you say. “I’m sorry for what’s about to happen.”

“you don't have to.”

“I feel like I should though.” You both don't say more on the topic, as always a maid opens the door for you, and you both step inside, you're led to the formal living room, where the guests are always hosted, can't show everyone we're normal and have normal looking living rooms, oh no what will they say about us. The looks are where formal ends, because once you walk in you smile seeing how Matteo is sat with

his legs spread, and Marco is slouched in his seat, they're both being extra with it and you and your parents know it but it doesn't mean it's not funny.

"Oh y/n, dear I haven't seen you in so long." Your mum says and walks up to you kissing both your cheeks before she moves on quickly to Charles. “You must be Charles, it's good to finally meet you.”

“It's uh, it's good to meet you too.” Charles doesn't know what he expected but it wasn't this, his eyes moved from your mother to your brothers who had their sights on him, making him a bit nervous. They're protective of you, but so is he and they might not like him for marrying you, but he doesn't like them for not taking good care of you. He shakes all their hands and you exchange hugs, you don't bother saying or doing anything with your father other than a quick hello, before you both sit on a sofa together.

It's been four months since the start of this whole thing, and here you are all gathered together, the people affected, threatened, forced and orchestrated by this marriage.

"I heard you haven't won any races this season." Marco said and your eyes snapped to him, his tone is hostel, not friendly at all.

“No, RedBull has been dominating for a while." Charles says, shaking the dig thrown at him.

“He's been on podiums though.” You find yourself sticking up for Charles, he gives you a grateful look, which you return with a smile.

“So he hasn't been winning.”

“No one has been but Verstappen.” You roll your eyes at the childish behaviour your older brothers gained suddenly.

“And you grew up in Monaco?” Matteo then asks him.

“Where are you going with this?” You ask him confused by all the questions.

“What? I'm just getting to know my brother in law.” Matteo tried to act all harmless and innocent but you know your brothers well enough to know there's more to it than that.

“No you're not, please cut it out, it's not like we're all here because we want to anyways.” Your mum gasps, you give her a look, why is she acting like this is normal? You're all been forced to be here and as innocent as she likes to act, she's always in on what your father is up to. She knows everything.

“Let's move to the dining room, why don't we?” your father says and stands up, he thrived on chaos so he's happy how things are right now, split and concur is his favourite method. Charles takes your hand in his, making you pause and look at him he mouths 'it's okay,' and you nod and try to return the smile but you’re not confident and it shows.

Your mum made your brothers sit next to each other so you and Charles sat next to each other, he's closest to your mother and you're next to your father. Food was already laid out for all of you, the start of the meal was silent.

“You know y/n, I'm so happy you're finally in a relationship.” Your mother suddenly says and you stop the fork from reaching your mouth to look at her like she's crazy.

“What are you talking about?” Did she mean you and Charles or something else?

“I'm talking about you and Charles, you silly girl.” You scoff and place your fork on the table.

“You do know that we're forced right? You were here when your husband told me.” Your father sighs not liking where this is going, he's okay with you and your brothers doing whatever to each other but for a twisted reason that is not love he hates when you speak back to your mother.

“Yes mother, and besides, Charles isn't really a golden boy to be proud of having as a son-in-law.” Marco takes the chance to bring Charles in again, he's showing him that he doesn't approve of him.

“You know if you didn't like it, why didn't you stop this?” Charles asks Marco, he's tired of being blamed and the one taking the hits when the person responsible for all of this is sitting two seats down from him.

“Because he threatened to cut us off and stop us from working.” Marco was getting agitated and angry.

“Marco shut up!” You exasperated.

“And what? You let your sister take the fall for you, so you could live happily.” Charles shot back, anger for you cursing through his veins.

“Everyone calm down.” Your mum tried to reason but everyone ignored her.

“Oh so you think you care more about her than we do, now?” Matteo sneers and you groan, this testosterone fight is only going to lead to chaos.

“I wasn't the one who left her alone.”

“Okay, you all shut up right now!” your father shouted and everyone fell silent again. “This is unacceptable, Charles and y/n will be married, and you're all going to be happy about it and that's the last I'll hear of it.”

“So now you're telling us how to feel?” The words leave your mouth before you realise, Charles takes your hand in his, and you slowly look from the plate you had in front of you and up to your father, there’s not going back now. “You've dictated our lives, and even now we're all adults you're making us do what you want, we've done

everything you've asked, but you've never been happy, we were never good enough for you.”

“Don't talk back to me.”

“No, it's not fair, you sold me to someone you don't know, I'm your daughter.” You say and turn to look at your mother. “And you keep acting like you love us, when you know everything and just do nothing, you've never stood up to us.” She takes a sip from her wine glass. “Yes, that's all you do, drink.” You stand up and throw your napkin on the plate. “Let's go Charles.”

Charles stands up and follows you out, as your father shouts after you. “You stop right there you stupid girl.”

“I'll get married, okay, I'll do it, I'll do everything in the contract, anything other than that is none of your business.” You say not turning to look at him as you spoke those words and leave your hand clutching Charles's tightly.

Charles doesn't let go of your hand, and it gives you comfort, you have someone on your side at all times now, looking at Charles you're happy it's him you'll marry and not someone else.

“Thank you.” Your voice is just over a whisper, the dinner took too much out of you.

“Why? I don't think I've made it better.”

“No, you made it all so much better.” Charles sends you a questioning look, tightening your hold on his hand. “You were by my side.”

“I'll always be on your side.” Charles says and your heart skips a beat, there, he's done it, Charles Leclerc has done it, he has your heart, it belongs to him now and there's nothing you or anyone could do to change this. Charles doesn't let go of your hand when you arrive, he just holds your hand when you're walking off to his house, not in the elevator, not until you walk in. “Come on, I think we need to talk.”

You sit on the sofa with your legs under you and Charles also sits down facing you.

“I think we should've had this conversation a long time ago.” Charles starts, your heart beats faster in your chest as your eyes meet and you both don't look away. “Why did you agree to this marriage?”

“Because my father said if I don't he’ll cut us all off, he'll make sure none of us ever find work again, and my brothers, they have families and children, I couldn't let him do that to them.” you tell him and push your hair back. “I was happy the last couple of years in Italy and then he just dropped the bomb on me, and… here we are.”

“Here we are.”

“Why did you agree to it?” You've had your theories at the start of this relationship, but as you've gotten to know Charles you realised how wrong you are.

“I know you've read all the articles about me, it's a long story but I've been with my girlfriend for almost five years when I found out she was cheating on me.- Charles said his voice soft, making you take his hand in yours and give him a squeeze. “I spiraled after that, other than racing which isn't going great, I was always drinking and sleeping around, it affected me her cheating more than I thought it'd ever way, it just shocked me and left me not knowing what to do, my reputation was going down and the sponsors were getting anxiety so your father told me if I don't agree to this I'd kiss my dream goodbye, no future in Formula 1, and I couldn't, it's been my dream and I promised my father I'd do everything I could to be world champion and..."

“You haven't made it yet.”

“No, not yet.” You smile before you laugh, Charles looks at you like you're crazy and you shake your head. “Sorry, it's just so messed up, this whole thing is just so messed up.”

”It is.” Charles chuckles and you sigh, this is all a bit too much. “But I’m glad it’s you.”

An involuntary smile makes its way to your face, you just melted, heart skipping a beat and butterflies in your stomach. the whole shebang.

“I’m happy it’s you too, Charlie.” Hearing you call him Charlie makes him smile, your gaze not straying from the other, basking in the moment, a moment you could ignore everything and everyone, a moment that’s just between you too. Maybe this whole arranged marriage thing will be okay in the end.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

Next day you both fly out in Charles’s private jet with his family and team, Lorenzo is still standoffish, but now that you know that he’s in on everything you don’t blame him. He’s not rude to you at all, but he’s cold, something that you attributed to how he was raised. Even though he knows his brother is forced into it, he hasn’t been rude after the first time you met, when he just found out the truth.

The plane landed in Milan where you live, but you went with the family to Monza for the race, promising to take Charles to your studio after the weekend.

The first two days, media and FP1-2, go like how all the other races go, this time you’ve met more drivers, you met Pierre and Kika are one of the ones you met and was found talking to. You and the model exchanged details and followed each other on Instagram, you all went out to have dinner after media day, and you and Kika sat together talking all the time, with Charles and Pierre sat on each side of you not understanding how two people who just met could have this much to talk about and how you talk about everything.

pierregasly posted to their story

caption[ I think i lose my girlfriend @/charles_leclerc]

Charles_leclerc reposted to his story

Caption [looks like it mate]

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

Lorenzo was watching the both of you with hawk eyes, he felt like things have changed between the two of you or you’ve become better actors, because why does Charles have his hand on the back of your chair, why is your hands laced together a lot, why are you leaning into him, are do you have inside jokes and share those knowing looks. You’re having deep conversation, a closeness and ease that hasn’t been there before. So he takes the moment you went to Charles’s driver’s room to leave your bag there and took his brother to the side.

”What’s going on with you and y/n?” Enzo asked Charles, his brows furrowing.

”What are you talking about?” Charles asked, his breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding, he’s been denying his growing feelings for you, but it seemed like his brother picked up on it. “We’re just trying to make the best of a… difficult situation.”

Lorenzo wasn’t convinced he knew Charles, he knows there’s more to it.

“Don’t lie to me and don’t lie to yourself, Charles.” Lorenzo said his tone leaving no space for argument. “I can see the way you look at her, the way you care about her, you like her, and I think she likes you too.”

For a moment Charles was silent, his mind racing with emotions and he’s thinking about the time you’ve come to share together and how he’s been enjoying it. he had spent so long denying his feelings for you, burying them down, he tried to tell himself that no he doesn’t find you the prettiest most beautiful woman he has ever met, he hates when you go on rants about the things you love, he hates that you’ve picked up on so many habits he has and have come to understand him, he hates how you’re passionate and warm and kind and soft and elegant, he hates it, he just hates it. But here he is standing in front of his brother, the walls that have been down for a while are just made apparent to him, he just realised them. He nods, and a smile slowly appears on his face.

”Yeah, I do, I do like her.” Charles says his eyes are not meeting his brother’s as he’s lost in thought, his brows move slightly together and then he’s shaking his head no. “No, actually I love her.”

Lorenzo’s expression softened at his brother’s admission, a sense of understanding coming over him. “Then just embrace it, and let her know.”

”I just wish we met under different circumstances.” Charles confessed, his voice tinged with regret. “But either way, I’m just glad that fate brought y/n into my life.”

And as they stood there in the hustle and bustle of the garage, Charles knew that he’s ready, he’s ready to tell you what he feels and maybe start dating for real this time, have a samples of normality in your relationship before you get married.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

After Sunday, Charles’s family flies back to Monaco and the Ferrari driver comes with you to Milan.

“Promise me you won’t judge.” You say to Charles after you turn to look at him, your studio’s key is already in the door waiting for you to twist it.

”I promise, mon amour.” Charles says and your face lights up at his pet name, you couch and turn to face the door.

”Didn’t have to say that.” You mutter and feel your cheeks turn pink, you open the door and lead Charles in, the big windows let in so much light but you go and turn on the light as well. The studios was spacious with high ceiling, paintings where leaning on the wall, a couple were covered, there was pain stains on the ground on the walls, there was a small kitchen to the side and a bathroom, there’s a pull out sofa against one wall with a few chairs littering the place and table with wheels, a table with no wheels, drawers of supplies and easels. This place truly looked like an artist's dream, it was messy but organised, it was all you.

”Wow.” Charles says and walks to the wall that had paintings on it, you follow him, keeping your eyes on him as you take in every little reaction he has. “You’re so talented y/n.”

”Thank you.” You reply softly. “You can flip through the paintings if you want, I'll make us tea.”

Charles has seen a lot of your work on your instagram and you’ve shown him a lot but seeing them in real life he realised they weren’t given justice with the photos, there’s so much detail in the work you’ve done, each brush stroke pressed with intention. Charles moved to the two covered ones, they were on the big size, his curiosity got the best of him and he pulled the fabric down.

”Wait Charles-“ It was too late, he saw them, his mouth hanging open as he stared at… himself.

“That’s-that’s me.” You sigh feeling embarrassed, your face turning red.

”Yeah.” You mumble and cough.

”Fucking hell, mon amour.” Charles turns to look at you and you’re looking away refusing to look in his direction, his eyes soften at your embarrassment. Charles walks up to you and you’re refusing to look at him, so gently cups your cheeks and your eyes meet his, getting lost in the shades of blue and green in his eyes. the shades you know from memory, the colours you painted and brought to life on your canvas. Charle’s breath gets caught in his throat, the words he was planning to say slipping from his mind, so he just presses his lips to yours, you gasp a little before following his lead, your hands clutching his shirt. It’s a moment of vulnerability, the product of simmering feelings that bubbled to reach the surface. your kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and desperate with each passing moment, as you’re trying to pour all your pent-up feeling, emotions and desires into this single electrifying moment. You move closer, your bodies pressed together, holding to each other’s curves, the intensity bordering on desperation.

When you broke apart, gasping for breath Charles’s hands are still cupping your face, his eyes ablaze with fire that threatened to consume you both.

”I love you, y/n.” He whispered, his voice raw with emotion, your heart swelled with joy at his words, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reaches up to caress his cheek.

“And I love you Charles, with everything that I am.”

With a shared understanding and longing and love you sealed the moment with another searing kiss, letting together us a oissionate embrace that seemed to stretch on forever. In that moment, amidst the quietness of the studio, you were no longer bound by a contract, but by the pure and unadulterated love for each other. In each other’s arms you’ve found the only solace and sanctuary you’ve ever needed or wanted.

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

It’s not to say that everything turned out to be what you wanted, in a couple months and while Charles was on his winter break your wedding was set. There was no talking your father out of it, but you weren’t dreading the moment anymore. You know that fate was going to bring you together in the end, one way or the other. Yes you’d still be dating, but in the end you’d get engaged and then married. Speaking of engaged, Charles did propose to you, it was a private event, only the two of you on his yacht away from prying eyes, with soft music playing in the background. The monegasque got down on one knee and asked you to marry him. Ignoring the fact that you’re bound by a contact you agreed instantly, tears in your eyes and a smile on your face.

But here you are now standing across from Charles, your eyes locked in a silent exchange if understanding, the weight of their circumstances hung heavy in the air. The officiant, cleared his throat and said his words singling to you to start your vows.

Charles took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering as he spoke his voice steady yet laced with emotions.

”y/n, I know that our beginning is not the one we would’ve liked for each other, but I’m glad that it did. But I know that fate has intertwined our future together, one way or the other I would’ve made my way to you. In you, I have found a companion, a confidante and a source of strength. I vow to stand by your side through everything that may come our way, to support you, to cherish you and to love you with all that I am, for as long as we live.”

Your heart swelled with emotion as you listened to Charles’ words, your eyes shining with unshed tears. You took a moment to compose yourself before speaking your voice soft but unwavering.

“Charles, Charlie.” You begin and your voice starts to tremble with emotion the more you speak. “When we first met I never imagined that our paths would be so intertwined, that I’d reach a point where I can’t imagine living without you. In you I have found a partner in crime, in life. You’ve showed me so much love that I never experienced before and for that I’ll be always grateful, I vow to stand by your side to be on your team, to lift you up when you falter, to love you unconditionally and with every fibre of my being.”

In that moment, those who doubted you, those that thought they won, those that wished your relationship would end, all knew that as you shared your first kiss as husband and wife, that you’re a team, a family, and that nothing can bring you down. You made each other stronger, you made each other happy, and you had your whole futures in front of you to heal all the wounds you had in the past, you’ll both grow and heal and live together.

Your journey is far from over, there’s so much that you’ll face. But you’ll face it together in each other’s arms, where you felt the purest kind of happiness.

[pinkanonwrites]

"Oh! That's What That Does?!"

All art by @archie-sunshine

G1 Rumble/ Mechanic Reader - 2400+ Words NSFW, Valveplug, Plug 'N Play, Mild Sparkplay, Accidental Stimulation, Edging, Human Reader, GN Pronouns

Ahh, the inherent eroticism of repairing your machine.~ I've had this one cooking for a while, so I hope you all enjoy! I've also gotten pretty attached to this mechanic Reader, so they'll likely pop up again with other cassettes (and maybe even some other Decepticons!)

NSFW WRITING AND IMAGERY BELOW THE CUT!

“Ey… EY! Careful wit’ dat! It’s touchy!”

“Rumble,” You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You're making this way more difficult than it needs to be.”

“I wouldn't be complainin’ if you'd stop touchin’ all up on bits that don't gotta be touched! Rootin’ around in there like I'm one’a your crappy organic machines!”

Removing your hands from Rumble’s open chest, you tossed them roughly into the air. “Y'know what? Fine. Do it yourself. Better yet, get Frenzy to pull the shrapnel out of your chest. That'll go great.”

You would have slid off of Rumble’s lap and stormed off, if not for his massive servos closing around your wrists with an unexpected delicacy. Your efforts to remove your hands only reinforced his grip, using just enough force to keep you from leaving without crushing your wrists entirely.

“H-Hey, no need ta be so hasty! Look, I’m just steamed cause'a the battle, dat’s all. Frenz’ can't do dis, it's gotta be someone more… dainty. Y’know. Little human hands and all dat.” The harsh glow of his visor had dulled slightly as his gaze cast down to your hands. You rolled your eyes, wrists finally slipping from his grip as you settled back in. 

Dangling wires and sparking shrapnel dotted his open chest cavity, illuminated by the light of his spark chamber. Rumble had staggered off-balance into your workshop whining about the prodding pieces of broken metal keeping him from transforming properly, yet you’d barely managed to get two wires back in place before he started squirming and whingeing and slinging verbal abuse at you.

 Not that you weren't used to it, any interactions with Rumble and Frenzy usually involved some level of bullying. Fortunately, the two cassettes are also incredibly predictable. As soon as you would threaten to take away or withhold what they're asking for, they’d start falling all over themselves with apologies and placations. After all, you may not have been the only mechanic in the area, but you were certainly their favorite.

“Are you going to actually let me work? Or are you going to start yelling at me again?”

“Yellin’? Who's yellin’? Yer the mechanic here, my spark is in your squishy little hands. Do your magic, doc.” He sat back again, servos clutching the edges of your workbench in a show of effort, a genuine attempt to keep them still (or however genuine any show of rule-following from Rumble could be.)

“That's what I thought. Now let me actually fix a few things before you start whining again.” Your gloved hands dipped back into his chest cavity, skirting the edges of his spark chamber to pick away at the bits of loose shrapnel stuck in some of the wires. His frame shuddered, a hiss of steam escaping through his dentae as your knuckles brushed the underside of the spark casing.

“C-Careful,” He said again, with significantly less bite to his tone.

“Does it hurt?”

“Somethin’ like dat.”

“I'll be careful, so let me know if it gets to be too much.” You smoothed a palm down the armor covering his stomach, flinching back when you heard another sharp hiss of steam.

“I’m fine! It's fine! Just… do ya gotta be all on top’a me like dis?”

“I can't reach properly if you're laying down. If you're standing you might keel over on me, and I really don't feel like being squished to death today.” He let out a low grumble as you jacked another cable back into its proper port. “I'll try to be quick, that way you won't have to worry about my ‘human germs’ and you can get outta here. Deal?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just-”

“Be careful. I know.”

And with that you went to work, separating and organizing cables, taping off leaky tubing and removing pieces of scrap metal as gently as you could. Every once in a while Rumble would jerk or twitch beneath your touch, letting out a muffled curse or huff but sparing you from his usual complaints. It was… uncharacteristically quiet, for sure. This was the most extensive repair you'd ever done on him, though, so maybe he was just having surgery jitters.

“Okay, I've gotten most of the shrapnel out. But there's a piece right behind your spark casing.”

“Well? Get it outta there!”

“I'm going to, but I need to get my whole hand in there. I'm warning you now because it's going to be bumping up against your spark casing a lot. I'm going to do my best but you have to tell me if it hurts too much.”

Rumble let out a long, pathetic groan. “Actually doc, maybe you can just leave dat one in there? F-For funsies?”

“Eh?! Rumble, I’m not gonna just ‘leave it in there’! It's gotta come out.”

“Something's gonna come out if you keep proddin’ around in there like dat…”

“What was that?”

“Gh! Nothin’! Don't worry ‘bout it!”

“...Okay. I’m gonna start now. Are you ready?” Rumble only responded with gritted dentae and a tense nod. Working your gloved hand under his spark chamber, you could feel the ambient energy making the hairs on your arm stand on end as you felt for the jagged edge of broken metal. Your glove blocked your view entirely, so you were left blindly groping your way up the metal surface, feeling for anything bent or out of place. When your fingers could no longer reach any further while still avoiding the casing, you slid forward and ducked slightly into Rumble’s open chest, the back of your hand pressing up against the underside of his spark chamber.

CLANG!

You jumped, and if it weren't for Rumble’s arm wrapping around you and almost crushing you into his open chest you may have jostled the sensitive chamber even further. You slid your hand back again, easing off of the reinforced glass, and his grip receded.

“What the hell was that? And what was that clang?”

“I said don't worry ‘bout it!” He hissed, voice glitchy with static. “Everythin’s totally normal, I dunno why you're getting all jumpy ‘bout- MMNGH?!” You moved your hand up again into the same position, and Rumble let out an embarrassingly high whimper. You glanced up at his face, a flush of pink behind the usual grey and beading with coolant… and something clicked.

“Oh my God are you getting off on this?”

“N-No!”

Behind you you heard a sharp snikt, and the sound of pressurizing hydraulics.

“...Maybe?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

“H-Hey, don't go gettin’ a big head or nothin’! A bot’s spark chamber is sensitive! Don't go thinkin’ this is cause of your squishy frame or your soft little digits or nothin’!” He seemed to almost shrink in on himself, face plate practically glowing as his shoulders pulled up around his helm. You'd never say it to his face, but he looked surprisingly… small, at this moment. You heaved an exhausted sigh.

“Okay. Okay. I'm going to get this last piece out, alright? It's the last one. And whatever happens while I'm doing that..? It just happens. We won't bring it up again, no need to be embarrassed. Deal?”

“‘Deal?!?’” He squawked, positively scandalized. “How do I know yer not gonna gossip with Frenz’ the next time he's in for a tune-up?”

“Well Frenzy usually never lets me get a word in edgewise, first of all.” You huffed. This was way more than you'd signed up for. “I'm not going to make fun of you, Rumble. Let’s just get you patched up, then you can head home. Okay?”

His mouth was pulled into a tight, wobbly frown as he glanced down at you, choking out a single word. “...Promise?”

“I promise.”

“...Slag. alright, let's get dis over with.” He lolled his head back against the table with a clank, resigning himself to his fate. This time, when your knuckles brushed his spark casing, he couldn’t stifle his soft moan. Your fingers felt further and further up, until almost your entire hand was behind the glass bubble containing his pulsing spark. Finally, you could feel the jagged piece of metal. You wrapped your fingers around it and gave it an experimental tug. It stuck fast, and your hand bumping against Rumble's spark only pulled another surprised moan from him.

“W-Watch it!” He yelped, sounding too fucked-out to come across as actually threatening.

“It's really stuck in there. I'm going to start working it out, so let me know if you need me to stop.”

“Wh… workin’ it out? Whadda ya- ohhh…~” 

With your thumb and forefinger gripping the edge of the broken metal, you began to wiggle it gently back and forth to ease it from the plating and wires around it. Each time you moved the back of your hand rubbed up against the far side of his spark chamber, warmth radiating through your glove as Rumble started to vent more harshly.

“Slag… slag! Don't think it's ever been touched back there before. Feels… feels crazy.” He moaned. The metal of your work table shrieked and crumpled like cardboard under his iron grip, desperate to keep his servos off of himself or, Primus forbid, you. The piece stuck firm, and as you braced your other hand against the outside paneling of his chest to readjust your balance he let out a sharp, staticky yelp. “S-STOP!”

You froze immediately. “Are you okay? What's wrong?”

A few shuddering vents were your only response for a moment, Rumble’s visor lights flickering frantically as he tried to steady himself. “Whooo… Almost blew my top for a second there.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey! Yer the one that told me to tell ya if I need ya to stop! I'll be slagged to the Pit before I let some ‘squishy’ run my charge like dat.”

“...Can I start again? I’m making some progress here.”

“...Y-Yeah. Yeah. Yer good.”

You let out another soft sigh, trying to focus on the rhythmic sktch sktch sktch of metal on metal rather than Rumble’s shivering whines. His vocalizer pitched and warbled with static, attempts to stifle his own words slowly giving way to a deluge of fucked-out babbles.

“Ah! Gh! Ohh, mmnh, stupid little hands feelin’ all- nnh!~ Jus’ get it outta there! Please?”

I’m working on it. You’re doing good, just hang in there.” Your placations only resulted in another desperate moan. After what couldn’t have been more than another thirty seconds or so, he blurted out again.

“Ah! Stop!”

You retracted your hand for a moment, letting Rumble gasp for breath above you in a futile attempt to cool his core. You rubbed at his chest paneling as he shivered beneath you hard enough that you thought bolts were going to start coming undone. Even the paneling you were seated upon was burning up, heat seeping through the fabric of your coveralls. His glowing face plate was slick with coolant. Without thinking, you reached up and swept away a bead of it with your thumb, making him jump.

“H-Hey, quit dat…” He groaned, all bite lost from his tone.

“Rumble… The more you keep stopping me the longer this is going to take.”

“You think I don’t know dat?!” One of his arms draped dramatically over his face. “I’m tryin’! But you just keep pokin’ around in there and it’s all touchy and it’s makin’ me feel like my spike’s gonna burst and I can’t take it anymore!” He sniffled. Could Cybertronians even sniffle? You weren’t sure, but he sounded close to tears.

“Rumble… Have you ever actually edged yourself before?”

“Whu- Whuh? How’s dat any of yer business?”

“I’m just thinking…” You ran a placating hand down his shivering plating. “If you haven’t it can be really overwhelming, and-”

“I can handle it! I-I can!”

“Let me finish. It can be really overwhelming, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself further. Just… take a deep breath for me, okay?” You took a slow, steadying breath, and after a second he mimicked it. “Good. Just think about letting go, okay? I’m not going to judge you. Just think about it.”

He let out a low, pitying grumble, peeking at you from behind his arm plating. “...You can start again.”

Once again, your hands dipped into his chest cavity. Only this time you slid both hands up behind his spark casing, gripping as much of the broken metal as you could reach. As you rocked it back and forth Rumble’s moans returned with a fervor, one servo finally flying to cup your lower back.

“Ah! Ah! Slag, oh slag please! Please don’t stop I’m so fraggin’ close.” He fisted the back of your uniform, crumpling the cheap fabric between his digits. “C’mon, c’mon c’mon c’mon I need it!”

“Shh, I’ve got you baby. Just let it happen.”

With a metallic shriek and a gush of brackish oil the shrapnel popped free, the force enough to send you sprawling if not for Rumble’s servo in the small of your back. Of course, said unexpected force also slammed the backs of both your hands right into the underside of his spark chamber, and Rumble’s voice box screeched into a wail of radio static. Something hot and sticky splattered up the back of your coveralls; said something you decidedly were not going to look at until later. His frame rattled and shivered beneath you, steam venting and joints glitching and spark pulsating a near-blinding glow.  Finally, after a burst of noise and sparks and twitching, he went slack beneath you, helm clanking against the workbench as his optics flickered.

As delicately as you could, you removed the oil-slick shrapnel and let it clatter onto the floor before shedding your gloves and dabbing at his face plate with the cuff of your sleeve. With the whir of an old monitor blipping back to life, his visor blinked back up to its standard brightness.

“Whuh… Wheh?” He garbled.

“How you feeling, hun?”

“Like I got struck by lightnin’... but in like a nasty way.”

You choked back a snort. “Well, I’ve got all the worst of it over with. Feel free to rest for a while if you need it. I’m gonna go change my jumpsuit.” 

He let you slide off his lap without a fight, not even commenting until you’d turned around to make your way over to your office. Only then did he let out a low, salacious whistle when he’d finally caught sight of the back of your uniform.

“Comm me next time yer free, doc. Then I can repay da favor.”

[phantomwithbreakfast]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

First post ever. Oh, my. I’m such a noob at this. So bare with me, please!

DP content loading…

Halloween was supposed to be Danny’s night off—a chance to enjoy the frights and fun without worrying about ghosts or ghost hunters. He, Sam, and Tucker were strolling through the rainy streets, drenched but laughing, making their way to a Halloween party. Danny had even gone for a classic look, throwing an old bed sheet over himself. Underneath, he was still Phantom, his ghostly glow hidden, figuring no one would notice on Halloween. Right?

As they got closer to the party, droplets dripping down his soaked sheet, Danny couldn’t help but feel a bit smug. Maybe I’ll get through tonight without a single ghost hunt, he thought, smiling to himself.

But just as he let his guard down, he caught sight of two familiar figures in the distance—his parents, Jack and Maddie, sprinting toward him with their ghost-hunting gear gleaming through the mist. Their ecto-scanners must have picked up his signature. Heart pounding, he backpedaled, slipping and stumbling until he found himself cornered in a nearby alley, the rain pouring down harder, plastering his sheet to his body.

“Uh… can’t I just, like, take a night off?” Danny stammered, pulling the sheet tighter around him, hoping they wouldn’t recognize the glow. “By the way, nice costumes!”

“Costumes?” Maddie smirked, aiming her ecto-blaster, raindrops streaking down her goggles. “Nice try, Phantom, but we’re not here to trick-or-treat.”

Danny shot a desperate look at Sam and Tucker, silently begging for an escape plan. Spoiler alert: they didn’t have one. His parents were closing him inn he hit the back wall of the alley, rain dripping down his face, and in his panic, the sheet slipped from his shoulders, leaving him exposed as Phantom. Great. Just great.

“Well, well, look who’s cornered,” Jack grinned, his blaster humming as he powered it up. “We’ve been saving this tech just for you, Phantom!”

Danny forced a nervous smile, raising his hands in surrender. “Uh, I was just here for the candy, really…”

His dad fired before he could finish, and Danny found himself tangled in an ecto-net, rain-soaked and sputtering as his powers faded. “A net? Really? You can’t do better than that?” he muttered before realizing sarcasm probably wasn’t helping.

“Oh, we’ve got more than that,” Maddie replied, tightening the net with a gleam in her eye. “Tonight, we’re making sure you’re not going anywhere.”

Danny cast a helpless look at Sam and Tucker, rain dripping from his hair. “Uh… a little help?”

Sam shrugged, giving him a teasing smile. “You did say you wanted an exciting Halloween.”

Danny sighed, muttering under his breath, “Should’ve just gone as a ninja…”

———————

I wanted to draw something for Halloween. And DP is the perfect match for it, for me though. First I didn’t want to draw Dannyyy angry… But all of a sudden his brows were furrowed. So I had to came up with a little story behind the art lol.

Poor Danny is being captured again.

Art made in ProCreate.

DP copyright/rights, belongs to Nickelodeon 🥶

Still pissed they ended the show 17 years ago, but hey. Who am I? Lol.

———————

PS: stay tuned to see more in the future.

You can also follow my IG: phantomwithbreakfast

I also have an account on FanFiction.net under the same name. So if you want to read something when you’re bored… (posted there my first story—not finished yet)

Also, almost everything is gunna be DP related.

——————

I don’t know how Tumblr works, even when I had it like… years now—I never used it. But I needed new Social Platforms for specific reasons.

And also, I was a bit anxious about posting my stuff online, but here we are—I finally shared it.

[edwinspaynes]

I was angry. I'm still angry. But sadness and exhaustion have overtaken that anger, and I have A LOT to say about this.

Dead Boy Detectives is a very special show to me. It occupies a ridiculously large place in my heart, and it's brought me joy in a way that only a few pieces of media ever have. When I watched it for the first time, Edwin Payne had my heart within minutes. By the end of episode one, Charles Rowland did, too.

It meant a lot to me, seeing such wonderful and nuanced queer characters brought to life in the type of paranormal story I have always loved. In these past months, Edwin and Charles have felt like real friends to me, and to never see them again without a satisfying conclusion to their story is something I have not truly processed. Same for Niko and Crystal and The Cat King - they should be back. But I haven't fully processed it yet, that they're not coming back, and yet I am still aggreived.

@netflix is, at this point, so fucking gagged on capitalism's dick that they're not even pretending to care about art anymore. Dead Boy Detectives is genuinely masterfully made on just about every level. The actors did a phenomenal job and I will be following all their careers heavily. Steve, Beth, and the writing team crafted an incredible tale. The sets, the lighting, the props, the effects were all on point. This was a well-constructed program, and you could tell that everyone involved with the project gave it their all because they cared so deeply.

(Also my heart breaks for the whole cast, but it's hardcore hurting for George since this was not only his first screen role but one he clearly thought he would be keeping as of two weeks ago. He seemed so secure. I hate this for him.)

In addition to being a good show, DBDA had good reception. It's got a 92% on Rotten Tomatoes, was on the Top 10 for several weeks, got 4.7 million views within week one, and was getting daily articles posted on various review sites with NOTHING but praise. The fandom is incredibly active. We trend on Tumblr like five times a week and on Twitter regularly as well.

THE. SCRIPT. FOR. SEASON. 2. WAS. WRITTEN.

What the fuck happened?

Idiot executives at @netflix, choking on the dick of capitalism, probably just thought that they wouldn't get new subscribers for a second season of an existing show that didn't rake in Bridgerton-level cash. That's how they work - people who are interested in it are already subscribers, so who the fuck cares about them? Better to make some other shit, hope new people subscribe, and maybe that'll be a Bridgerton-level hit.

But also, Netflix has fun little trends to look into. And, when you look at the lineup of shows Netflix has canceled, they are overwhelmingly queer. The homophobia of @netflix and their operatives is clearly boundless, and it hits here really badly because this show was clearly made with a queer audience in mind. It was one of the most authentic pieces of queer media I have ever experienced, if not THE most authentic pieces of queer media that I have ever experienced.

It's fucking ridiculous that Netflix canceled a show that they commissioned a completed script of months ago. It sucks that they decided that their existing subscribers, their queer subscribers, did not matter.

Edwin and Charles are ours now. Well, of course, they're George's and Jayden's respectively, but the characters are no longer Netflix's to use and throw out. They're ours now, our fandom's, and we all love them so much.

And we deserved to see more of them, and we deserved to see their love story play out onscreen, but I for one am not going anywhere. Let's give Edwin and Charles - and the rest of the gang - millions of versions of the stories and endings that Netflix deprived them of.

[misspygmypie]

What's That Brush For?

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Requested: Yes Summary: Lando is fascinated by your morning makeup routine :) Words: 765

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Lando stood in the doorway, his eyes wide with fascination as you meticulously applied your makeup. The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow that made the whole process feel even more intimate. The Brit had been standing there for a good five minutes, observing you while you were pulling your hair into a high ponytail, without saying a single word. 

As you had moved on to doing your makeup for the day he just kept watching, mesmerized, as you skillfully blended foundation and brushed on eyeshadow with precise movements.

“Wow,” he said, leaning in closer, his voice tinged with awe. “I never realized how much goes into this. What’s that brush for?”

You watched as he picked up the little tool and looked at it wide-eyed, bopping its soft bristles with his index finger before bringing it up to his eyes and inspecting it closely.

You glanced up to your boyfriend. “This is a blending brush. It helps smooth out the eyeshadow so there are no harsh lines in between the colors.”

Lando nodded, clearly enthralled by the whole situation. “Can I try? I mean, I probably won’t get it right, but it looks like fun.”

You smiled at him, amused by his enthusiasm. “Sure, give it a go. Just be gentle and please don’t poke my eye out, I kind of still need it.”

“Shut up, you muppet, as if I was that clumsy…” he gave you a sour look and you chuckled, remembering some moments he definitely had been that clumsy.

As he carefully tried his hand at blending the different powders on your eyelid he asked, “Does it always take this long? I feel like I’m messing it up.”

“Practice makes perfect,” you reassured him, watching as his concentration intensified, his tongue now poking out of his mouth making him way more adorable than should be allowed. “It takes time to get the hang of it. And don’t worry, you’re doing fine,” you ensured him after a quick glance into the mirror.

He looked at the result and grinned, a mixture of pride and humor in his expression. “This is really cool. I had no idea it was such an art form. How did you learn all this?”

You laughed softly, appreciating his genuine interest which is something you never would have expected. But then again, this was Lando and he always was full of surprises. “A lot of trial and error, plus some tutorials online. It’s like anything else, practice and patience.”

Lando’s eyes twinkled with enthusiasm. “Maybe I should start learning more. Who knows, I might end up being a makeup artist on the side.”

You chuckled at the boy next to you. “You never know. It could be a fun skill to have. But don’t quit your day job just yet.”

He grinned, returning to his spot by the door, crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning against the frame. “Fair enough. But if you ever need an assistant, I’m your guy,” Lando announced proudly, pointing at himself with his two thumbs.

“Thanks, Lan. I might just take you up on that offer someday. You know,” you said, applying a bit of highlighter with a deft hand, “makeup can be a lot like racing in a way. It’s all about precision, timing, and a bit of creativity.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? I never thought of it that way.”

“Yeah,” you explained, smiling as you looked at him. “Just like in racing, you need to have good technique and an eye for detail. And there’s always room to experiment and improve.”

He nodded thoughtfully, clearly processing the comparison. “I guess it makes sense. And I suppose the same principles apply, practice makes perfect.”

“Exactly,” you agreed. “And it’s all about having fun with it, too.”

Lando’s grin widened. “Well, I definitely had fun. Thanks for letting me try it out. Maybe next time we can swap skills, I'll give you a few racing tips if you show me more about makeup.”

“Deal,” you said, laughing. “Looking forward to it. But how about a cup of coffee first?”

“That can be arranged,” Lando smiled and gave you a quick kiss before he headed out into the direction of the kitchen. 

As the door clicked shut behind him, you tidied up the bathroom counter, feeling a small bit of excitement about what had just happened. It was one of those small moments that made you appreciate Lando just that much more and perhaps you soon would learn something new about his world too!

[hauntingrabbits]

More Batman/My Little Pony au art because these are ridiculously fun to draw. Part 3 here! Part 1 here!

More info under the cut!

1. Sweet Talk/The Harlequin (Harleen Quinzel)

Originally contracted to work as a psychiatrist for the Tartarus villain redemption program, Sweet Talk had a unique relationship with the Joker. This relationship was proven to be even stranger than her coworkers had originally assumed when she broke him out and joined him in his life of crime.

Devoting herself entirely to her new life and relationship with the joker, she covers her original cutie mark at all times. Snce her horn was snapped she can no longer cast precise spells, leaving her magic mostly emotion-based and intensely volatile, (typically manifesting in the form of sparks, zaps, and explosions).

Other Notes:

-Using Tartarus as a substitute for Arkham Asylum for this au because why not.

-The villain redemption program did NOT go well. Sorry Twilight.

-Mostly based on BTAS Harley because I adore the original costume.

-Her horn was cracked by the Joker

2. Pudding Pie/The Joker (The Joker)

Batpony’s most notorious foe. Said to have been just a regular pony until he fell into a vat at an Ace Potions factory during a conflict with Batpony.

He doesn’t have a Cutie Mark, but it’s unclear whether this was always the case or instead a result of his accident. The effects of permanent Cutie Mark loss—the only known cases of which occurred via long-banned magic and/or traumatic injury—are largely unstudied, and it’s ramifications are unknown. Some ponies theorize this may be the reason for the Joker’s mental state and general disposition.  

Sundown has a different opinion on the matter.

Other notes:

-Based mostly on BTAS joker and the ‘89 Nicholson joker.

-His name is just based on Harley’s “pudding” nickname for in in a lot of versions, but I think it would also be hilarious if he was a distant relative of Pinkie Pie.

-I could leave it ambiguous but. Yeah the potion vat didn’t actually do anything beyond slightly altering his physical appearance. He’s just like that and he never got a cutie mark in the first place.

3. Gadiel/Scarecrow (Jonathan Crane)

Raised among ponies, Gadiel was relentlessly bullied for being gangly and birdish, earning him the nickname “Scarecrow” in his youth. Though he later successfully became a professor and psychologist in Gotham, Gadiel was eventually fired when he was found to be testing his fear-inducing potions on his students and purposefully putting them through terrifying and dangerous situations. Deciding to take his experiments to the masses, Gadiel donned the mantle of Scarecrow and weaponized fear to become a career criminal.

As the Scarecrow, he’s known for his skill in manipulation, psychological torture, and crafting dangerous potions and gas. The effects of fear on magical creatures are unique and intense, much to Gadiel’s delight and interest.

Other Notes:

-I wanted to make his front half a crane but I couldn’t get the long neck to work right with the mask, so he’s more crow-like instead.

-according to the wiki 1/3 of Griffin names start with a G so naturally I was extremely tempted to name him Gonathon and you should all be very grateful I did not. The name Gadiel has origins in the bible as the name of an archangel which I thought was fitting given the insane religious trauma some versions of the scarecrow went through. I thought about trying to do something similar for this version but given that the mlp universe uses Princess Celestia as a replacement for God in expressions like “Celestia knows where” and “Oh my Celestia” I wasn’t really sure how to go about it. There’s probably some kind of sun-worshipping thing in equestria idk.

-I spent a long time on the mlp wiki but from what I could find the only “fear” magic in the show is just used by one guy and its just called “dark magic”. I thought for sure there would’ve been some random plant or magical creature they dealt with at some point that maybe did something similar I could use for his blurb but unfortunately there was not.

4. Mandible/Falseface (Basil Karlo/Matt Hagen)

Hungry and deeply resentful of the changeling queen for forcing her underlings to share what little stolen love they had with her, Mandible went rogue early on and split off from the hive to pursue his own ventures. Finding success under the name Claypose as a pony actor in Gotham, he was sustained primarily by the one-sided love of his fans for years, despite the false identity having no real prior personal relationships to leech from. 

After a magical special effects accident on set revealed his true nature, he went into hiding and immediately started crafting a new persona, but soon found in his distress and rage over losing his identity as Claypose that he could no longer sustain any disguise long enough to keep up a long-term facade. Blaming the accident, he targeted the unicorn responsible by posing as his wife to leech his love, but ended up killing the pony in a panic when his disguise failed much faster than he’d anticipated it would. Unable to keep up a new identity or return to the hive, Mandible turned to a life of crime instead, doing dirty work for the bigger criminal names in Gotham and leeching love from his employer’s targets to survive.

Other notes:

-Clayface being a changeling was an obvious pick given his power set but I really wasn’t sure how to tackle the main issue of him being unable to keep a solid form for long. I went with his distress and frustration being the main thing keeping his disguise flimsy (so he gets put in kind of an ourobouros cycle where his disguise being bad makes him upset but him being upset makes it harder to fix his disguise), but the magic accident probably also contributed somehow.

-Why are all the changelings straight up just named after body parts in this show whats that about. The “Clay” in Claypose is obviously a reference to his title/schtick in the comics while the “pose” comes from both his job as an actor and the fact that he’s posing as a pony. Mandible is the name for the jaw part of an insect.

-there's actually an entirely different batman villain called falseface in the '66 series but I couldn't come up with anything better. Changeface just does not roll off the tongue.

3. Winglon/Killer Drake (Waylon Jones)

Originally intended to be used in an entrance exam, his egg was stolen from a Canterlot delivery cart on its way to Celestia’s school of magic and sold on the black market to a Pony Island circus. Raised to be part of the freak show, Winglon was pitted against circus performers and overconfident challengers in ring fights for money and entertainment. Enduring abuse and injury throughout his life from ponies that he was always fundamentally stronger than, it was only a matter of time until he snapped. Garnering the name Killer Drake for his actions, Winglon escaped into the Gotham sewer system.

Not knowing how to return to the dragonlands or whether he’d even fit into dragon society at all, he continues to lurk in the dark away from any life, deeply resenting ponies and all other manner of magical creatures that make friends with them.

Other notes:

-I like silly names ok. Winglon Jones. -I like the theory that the dragon egg used for Twilight’s entrance exam was actually fake/meant to be a no-win scenario, but I also don’t think it would be that hard for enterprising ponies to get their hands on dragon eggs. The practice probably stopped in the later seasons when they made friends with the dragonlands or whatever though.

-Given that dragons threaten to eat or kill ponies at multiple points in the show, the cannibalism is actually kind of understandable. And also not even cannibalism anymore. Still murder though.

[atzaurora]

a cute date with mingi involved painting his nails and picking rings to go with the nails

ahhhhhh it would be so cuteeeee i bet he blushing so hard

[˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗] 𝒩𝒂𝒊𝒍 𝒫𝒐𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉.﹙송민기﹚(0.9k)

𖥔 afab!reader x mingi ; dating ⸼જ Having a date with Mingi, where you get to paint his nails... ➤ imagine (fluff) .ᐟ.ᐟ >none< .ᐟ.ᐟ

꒰🖇꒱ such a cute idea! hope you like it :3 enjoyyy

if you have any ideas or wishes let me know, requests are open

here's my [𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕]! ; [𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕] here! ; [about me] + [guidelines]!

reblogs appreciated

You sat on your soft bedspread, sorting all kinds of nail polish in different colours. You and your boyfriend had agreed to say home tonight, instead of going out for a date.

"So, what's the plan tonight?" Mingi asked, peeking into the room with a gentle smile.

You looked up, meeting his eyes. "Just a little surprise for us," you said, holding a finger to your lips. "But you have to sit down first." ── ࣪˖ MORE BELOW

He obeyed, curiosity piquing as he sat beside you. The room was filled with the faint scent of vanilla candles, casting a warm glow around the space. You'd spent hours preparing for this moment, hoping it would be something special and fun to do together.

Mingi's eyes widened as he saw the nail art supplies laid out. "You're going to paint my nails?" he asked, his cheeks already beginning to blush.

"Only if you want me to," you teased, holding up a bottle of shimmering blue polish. "It's your choice, after all."

He didn't even have to think and immediately nodded. "Of course, I want you to," he said, extending his hand. "But only if I get to pick the design."

You took his hand carefully, inspecting his nails. They were clean and well-kept, perfect for you to get started. "Alright," you said, "what colour would you like?" He chuckled, admiring your excited face for a moment before deciding. "Mhm...maybe black." You sighed, giggling at his obvious choice.

"Of course. But pick another colour for the details and extras, it can't be all black," you said, smiling up at him. You appreciated that he let you do this, even though he liked to keep his nails simple and natural most of the time.

He nodded, looking around at all the colours. "This one looks nice," he responded, pointing at a wine red polish. You gasped dramatically, surprised by his good colour matching. "Ooh, very nice. These two go well together."

He laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. "Okay, hands please." You stuck out your own hands to grab a hold of his.

Mingi's blush deepened, but he didn't protest. He watched as you painted the first nail with careful strokes, the black polish gliding smoothly over the surface. The silence was filled with the comforting sound of the TV playing a random sitcom in the background. You both chuckled at the occasional laugh track, the tension in the air easing slightly.

"I think I'm done with the base. Now we're going to let them dry for a bit," you said, looking at what you have done so far with a satisfied smile. His hands glid out of your grip as he lifted him to get a closer look.

"You did good, baby," he praised, poking out his lips for you to kiss. You laughed softly, gladly accepting the offer by pressing your lips against his.

You two continued to watch the TV for a bit while waiting for the polish to dry. Your head laid on Mingi's shoulder, while he watched out for his nails so they wouldn't get smudged. Your gaze drifted away from the TV and landed on your desk where a box of jewellery was placed.

As Mingi stayed on the bed, you made your way to the desk, suddenly having an idea in mind. You rummaged through the box, looking for rings that matched the nail design.

You found a a few that you thought would look good with the black and red, carrying them over to him. "Look what I found," you squealed, opening your hand to show him the rings.

"They look really good, sweetheart. I'll wear them once my nails are done, okay?" he asked and you nodded, placing the jewellery on the bedside table.

"Alright, then I should get these done." You took his hands into yours again, making him sit up properly again. Mingi felt his face heating up again, simply by having your hands holding his. He was down bad...

He watched closely as your face grimaced with concentration, trying your hardest not to mess up the lines. It only took you a few more minutes, till you giggled excited, finally done with your work.

"Look!" He immediately held out his hands in front of him, looking at your designs carefully.

"I love them baby! You're really good at this." He smiled from ear to ear, seeing how your face lit up once you heard he liked them too.

You got up, collecting the rings from the table. "Now...," you sat back down again, signaling him to stick out his hand again. "...the final accessory."

You slid the silver ring onto his ring finger, before placing the other two on his other hand, on both the index and middle finger. You held his hand up to the light, admiring the final result. "What do you think?" you asked, your voice full of excitement.

He stared at his hand, the rings glinting in the candlelight. "It's perfect," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't help but smile at his reaction. The evening had turned into something even more fun than you'd planned, but you loved it. You liked seeing Mingi this way, vulnerable and open and not trying to hide his true excitement.

[spirit-lanterns]

FAST AND FURIOUS

synopsis: you catch the eye of the infamous street racer.

featuring: kafka, serval, seele, stelle, bronya

rating: 18+ n.s.fw (men and minors dni)

warnings: street racer! AU, dom! afab female reader (bronya), sub! afab female reader (kafka, serval, seele, stelle), car se.x, fingering, se.x while driving, cunnilingus, face riding, strap on, illegal street racing (obviously).

art credits: initial D

KAFKA

Street racer Kafka! Who catches you staring at her when she pulls up to the starting line in her sleek, jet black car. It’s smooth and elegant, just like her, as she beckons you to come over to her window, gloved finger enticing you to come closer…

Street racer Kafka! Who takes your hand into hers and plants a sweet kiss to your wrist. Her bold, red lipstick marks you as hers as she flashes you a flirty wink through the window. “For good luck, sweet girl. When I win, I want to take you home with me…”

Street racer Kafka! Who smirks when you shamelessly grow flustered and agree, letting you walk back to the crowd as she gets ready to win the race of a lifetime for you. She had plans of where to take you tonight after all. You were the one she was after, not the prize money…

Street racer Kafka! Who, as you may have guessed, wins the race by a landslide as she pulls back up to the starting line and gets out of the car, smirking and sweeping back her sweaty hair as she wanted nothing more than to get her prize. You. 

Street racer Kafka! Who chuckles as you fawn over her and pulls you in by the waist to kiss you, placing her sunglasses over your head and officially sealing you as her prize for tonight. And maybe forever, who knows…

Street racer Kafka! Who drives you back to her hotel with you in her car. Her hand on your thigh as you can’t help but follow it as it goes up up up… practically stroking up to your clothed pussy and playing with the buckle of your shorts. “I don’t think I can wait anymore, sweet girl…” Kafka purrs lowly, one hand on the wheel while the other begins to tug your shorts downward. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my eyes on the road…”

Street racer Kafka! Who slips her fingers into your panties and starts massaging your clit with her eyes glued to the road, her experienced driving making you wetter than you already were as she was just so good at multitasking. 

Street racer Kafka! Who starts plunging her fingers deep into your walls and driving her fingers faster as she accelerates. The car streaking down the road as the adrenaline of speeding and getting fucked by Kafka at the same time had you squirming and squeezing at her fingers. “Let’s see if I can get you to finish in time…” She laughs softly, deciding it was time for the main event.

Street racer Kafka! Who has you squirting all over her hand and passenger seat as she pulls up to the hotel parking lot with a smirk, slowly pulling out her fingers from beneath you and humming in satisfaction at the mess. “Looks like I won again…”

SERVAL

Street racer Serval! Who is an experienced mechanic and personally built her car to make it the fastest anyone has ever seen. Not only is it fast, it’s flashy, and Serval grins with confidence as she leans against the hood of her car with her arms folded, waiting for the race to start.

Street racer Serval! Who notices you admiring her car (and her) and smirks to summon you over for a closer look. “Don’t be shy, you can take a closer look…” she grins, taking your hand as she shows you all the special little features of her car. “Pretty isn’t she? She’s a beauty, just like you…” 

Street racer Serval! Who sighs when the crowd gathers to finally start the race, a smile stretching upon her lips before casting a small wink over to you. “Wish me luck, princess. I’m winning this for you!” She flashes you a blinding smile and gets into her car, revving up the engine as she prepares for sweet, sweet victory.

Street racer Serval! Who wins her race with ease and gets out of the car with satisfaction, fist pumping the air before taking her custom helmet off and smirking. “Phew…that was a close one…!”  she laughs out humbley, dropping her helmet to the floor as she waves you over to come join her on the stand. 

Street racer Serval! Who’s all sweaty and messy from the ride, yet still looks hot as ever as she pulls you in for a hug and lifts you off the ground, so happy to have won for you. “Taking you out to eat, what do you say?” She smiles flirtatiously, looking at you with hope in her eyes. Of course you agreed…

Street racer Serval! Who took you out to eat but not in the way you were expecting. Her face buried deep in your folds as she licked and speared her tongue into your hole to taste all you had to offer. “Tastes like victory alright…” she couldn’t help but joke, lifting up your thighs to keep you spread as she ate you out quicker than she could even drive her car.

Street racer Serval! Who was currently eating you out on her winning car in an abandoned parking lot after the race. Your legs spread over the top of her painted hood, as she wanted nothing more than to see your cum drip down your legs and onto the glossy paint that she herself had applied. “Don’t worry, I could always give her a good ole scrub. For now though, you could make a mess of her however you please…”

Street racer Serval! Who groans when she sees how much you leak onto her car, glistening cum sliding down her hood as she smirks and licks it all up…

SEELE

Street racer Seele! Who is rough around the edges and comes in with a slightly scarred yet durable car. She was a champion racer long before this race, and this car was the one that helped her win on many numerous occasions…

Street racer Seele! Who can’t help but let her eyes wander through the crowd and spot you smiling in the distance. Her cheeks go red at the sight before she blushes and looks away, grumbling to herself and scratching the back of her neck nervously. 

Street racer Seele! Who was usually very confident and snarky before her races. Seele was known to be a very reckless and “go with the flow” kind of driver so she had survived many dangerous stunts and tricks. However, it was her first time racing in front of such a pretty girl like yourself, and she couldn’t help but want to show off to you. 

Street racer Seele! Who blushes as you hand her a water bottle and say “good luck!” to her in that sweet little voice of yours. It had Seele smiling awkwardly as she flashes you a confident smirk. “Thanks. That money is as good as mine…”

Street racer Seele! Who speeds through the road and decides to go the extra mile to show off to you on the cameras. Taking a quick yet very dangerous detour with ease and sliding right through to first place. 

Street racer Seele! Who’s slick back hair is all wild and messy the moment she gets out of her car, heart thumping from the adrenaline as she just pulled off some of the most dangerous stunts known to man for you. The moment she sees you cheering and running over, she laughs and shyly takes your hand, squeezing it before kissing the top of it charmingly. “You’re a cute cheerleader…”

Street racer Seele! Who blushes madly when you grab her hand and whisper seductively in her ear. Telling her how she “deserves a wild ride tonight and should go a round or two” with you. The racer too flustered to even fathom the thought of saying no to you. 

Street racer Seele! Who is gasping for air underneath your cunt as you ride her face to your heart’s content. Hands gripping on her dark purple as you moan and writhe at her tongue thrusting in and out of you. She’s so fast, so lithe. The leather of her gloves gripped your hips firmly as she drove your body back and forth on her tongue, savoring the tang and precum of your body…

Street racer Seele! Who looks up at you dreamily in the dusk of her backseat car. Breath coursing through her throat as she groans and pushes her nose deeper against your clit, too sex-drunk in her prize to notice how you’re tensing up on her touch. Too dumb to realize until it was too late, as you creamed all over her face and let it spill down on the leather seats of her car…

STELLE

Street racer Stelle! Who arrives at the race in a battered up and beaten down car. Does she care? Of course not. This trashed up car is her baby and she loves it! No matter how many people laugh at her…

Street racer Stelle! Who just looks so cute and happy to be there as she looks around with big ole puppy dog-like eyes. She spots you smiling at her in the distance and gives you a playful wave. Honestly, you felt bad that everyone was laughing at her vehicle, she was just too cute! And she didn’t deserve to be teased like this…

Street racer Stelle! Who seems to ignore all the teasing and flashes you the most confident of smiles! She jogs up to you with contagious excitement and shakes your hand as you approach. “I saw you looking at my car. Do you like it? I scrapped it myself…!” Ahhhhh that was adorable and you couldn’t help but agree. How could you not love this woman? She was adorable!

Street racer Stelle! Who tosses you a good luck charm before running back to go start her car. It was a small, battered up raccoon keychain with the fur all matted and gray from use. You didn’t mind, in fact your heart swooned at the sight as the little chubby raccoon plush reminded you of the goofy woman.

Street racer Stelle! Who…surprisingly wins the race!? When she gets out of her car she has a look of pure shock and adrenaline before grinning and fist bumping the air. “Noice!” She chants, looking over at you in the crowd with a smile. “My good luck charm worked…!”

Street racer Stelle! Who is way too happy about winning the race with her dingy old car. So much so that she rushes up to you and gives you a big hug, lifting you off the ground with hidden strength and smiling ever so sunnily. She has to show her gratitude! She has to!

Street racer Stelle! Who shows her gratitude to you by pounding into you with a strap on she had in her car. Happy grunts emitting from the overgrown puppy woman, as she sinks her cock deeper into your walls and loving how you twitched and gripped onto her shoulders for dear life. “Is that good? I hope it’s good��nngh…mmpf…”

Street racer Stelle! Who doesn’t stop when you climax for a second time, or a third, or a fourth. Her relentless stamina allows her to keep plowing you with your legs in the air as she spears you open with all that she has. “Thank you…thank you thank you thank you…” she’s so grateful and happy to please, gasping and kissing your neck feverishly. “You deserve more…I’ll give you more…”

Street racer Stelle! Who leaves your legs sore and neck covered in bites the following morning. The poor puppy woman looking at you with an apologetic gaze, before murmuring a small “Sorry…” when she sees you unable to walk…

BRONYA

Street racer Bronya! Who is the heiress of a wealthy family but sneaks out at night to drive in street races. She always pulls up in a sleek, brand new and expensive car that she borrowed from her mom, but that’s okay because her family has like eleven others hidden away in their garage…

Street racer Bronya! Who people thought was too delicate and princess-like to race in such dangerous events, yet here she was. Dressed in leather attire and a stone cold look on her face as she prepared herself for the race. She’s not overconfident or cocky, but you could tell she was a professional given how calm she was at the starting line. 

Street racer Bronya! Who glances at you through the crowd and keeps silent as she watches. You’re a pretty face, and it’s cute how curious you look as you admire her expensive uniform and car. ‘I suppose I could treat her for the night…’ Bronya thinks, ‘Perhaps I’ll even get her to experience the ride with me…’

Street racer Bronya! Who somehow gets you to sit in the passenger seat of her car before the big race. Her calm nature puts you at ease despite how dangerous street racing can be. “No need to worry, I’ll keep you safe.” She says softly, a gentle smile splayed on her lips. As she kicks the engine to start…

Street racer Bronya! Who’s car is so fast and sleek, it sends your heart rate racing. Despite the speed bursts however, Bronya makes sure to keep one hand over your chest to protect you everytime she makes a sharp turn. Gray eyes sharp and focused, as she keeps a hand on the steering wheel while protecting you at the same time.

Street racer Bronya! Who streaks through the finish line with you cheering on beside her. A soft chuckle emitting from her throat before glancing over at you. “How was that? Pretty nice, hm?” She blushes when you suddenly lean in to kiss her cheek, eyes wide before laughing bashfully at the reward. “Ah…thank you…”

Street racer Bronya! Who somehow found herself gasping in her seat with your fingers playfully teasing her. Unable to hear what you were saying as the most she could make out was “so good…” and “you deserve this, doll…”

Street racer Bronya! Who is just so surprisingly cute and whiny under that cold exterior. Gripping onto your wrist and trying to push your fingers even deeper while she moves her other hand to unzip the leather racing uniform. As the zipper is seperated, Bronya’s cute breasts spill out from beneath the confines and urge you to move over and fondle them. You cooed at how cute she was reacting to your touch, as she was acting like such a spoiled princess that you always knew she was…

Street racer Bronya! Who realizes she has to get back home before her mother wakes up, but decides ‘fuck it’ and continues riding your fingers with lust. Tongue lolled out in utter ecstasy as she drives your fingers faster than she could drive her car…