#Reader Insert Smau
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AND FINALLY I MAKE A SIDEBLOG FOR THE SMAU I LEFT BURIED UNDER MY MAIN'S FLOORBOARDS!
Anyways I Only Do Male Or GN Requests.
She/Her Or Fem Aligned Feel Free To Request A Gender Neutral One But I Do Not Enjoy Writing From A Fem Perspective And Will Not Do It. No Exceptions. It's Not Fun For Me. I Want To Have Fun Doing My Silly Smau Writing. :) /nm
Some Of My Smau Might Have Every Letter Capitalized. It's Just A Typing Trick I Use To Help Me Focus On What Letters I'm Clicking On The Keyboard.
I Might Do Angst Or Darker Things But Those Will Be Tagged Accordingly Using Either "CW: Triggering Subject" Or "TW: Triggering Subject"
Only Exceptions That Come To Mind Off Hand Are P.3.d.0. Stuff (Though I Will Write Character X Reader Comforting A CSA Survivor!Reader) And Extreme Fetishes
If You're Unsure How To Blacklist Tags Google "How To Blacklist Tags On Tumblr [App]/[Website]" Depending On What You're Using. It Should Be The First Thing That Comes Up. :)
I Get To The Easier Requests First, But Unless I'm Uncomfortable With The Ask/Don't Know How To Fit It In A Text Message Style I Usually Get To All Of Them. Eventually.
I'm Dyslexic And Make Spelling Mistakes Sometimes. Don't Point It Out Unless You Genuinely Cannot Tell What I Meant. If You GenuinelyCannot Tell I Will Clarify And/Or Remake It Depending On My Energy Levels. If You Know What I Meant Pointing It Out Is Not Constructive Criticism And I'll Just Block You. I Don't Find It Funny And It's Not A Joke If You're Laughing AT Me. 🤷♂️
Also I Cannot Tell If Any Of That Sounded Condescending But In Case All Of That Was /Gen. Expection For The Salt In That Last Rule Tho Lol
Main Account: @bi-lil-guy
#introductory post#tokyo revengers smau#bleach smau#ff7 smau#one piece smau#smau#yyh smau#Dr Stone Smau MAYBE But Definitely Running The Risk Of Them Being OOC#GN Reader Smau#Male Reader Smau#ALSO FOGOT TO ADD CUZ I WASN'T SURE IF IT WAS RELEVANT#SOMETIMES I EXAGGERATE THE CHARACTERS INTENTIONALLY BUT I'LL TAG THOSE AS “POSSIBLY OOC”#BUT TBH THESE ARE ALL PROBABLY GONNA BE AT LEAST A LIL OOC BECAUSE I'M HERE FOR VIBES SO 🤷♂️#ALSO MY CAPS LOCK GOT STUCK#AGAIN -_-#I'M NOT SCREAMING THIS AT YOU#OR AM I???#dangonronpa smau#Jjk Smau#Reader Insert Smau
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He Drunk Texts You
💗F!reader, alcohol use, fluff, pls ignore unintended typos💗
smau masterlist • Taglist Open!
🏷️: @kentochronicles @starlightanyaaa @parasite-b @hikariandptakchleb @pixelcafe-network
#jjk texts#jjk smau#fluff#smau#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#reader insert#no use of y/n#gojo x reader#nanami x reader#sukuna x reader#getou suguru x reader#choso x reader#toji x reader#choso#gojo satoru#geto suguru#nanami kento#toji fushiguro#ryomen sukuna
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first dinners- o.piastri
summary: being jack wolff's nanny is a pretty sick gig... only when your boss (/ father figure) isn't trying to interrogate your new boyfriend.
pairing: oscar piastri x fem! reader
part one | part two | part three
smut so mdni pls! 18+
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Las Vegas rolled around and you two had been texting back and forth and had even gotten a coffee together. He really liked you. You really liked him. As the paddock filled with people, and all eyes were on the battle between Norris and Verstappen, Oscar sneaking glances at the Mercedes garage went almost unnoticed by the media. He won the race with a 20 second gap from his adoptive father, with both Lando and Max having their races ruined by an accidental oversteer on Max’s end meaning that Lando was down in P5 after having to get his front wing replaced, while Max got taken out by the damage, meaning the championship battle was technically still on.
Oscar finally found you as you stood beside Jack, watching as George lifted his trophy. Oscar sent you a wink to which you smiled and waved, taking some sweet photos of him being celebrated.
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When he texted you to come to his hotel room, never did he ever think you’d be sucking his dick as a congratulations. For being a virgin, you were mentally experienced, or something. There he sat, on the bed, your head between his legs as his brain short-circuited at the way you were sucking him off.
“Fuck,” he grunted, desperately trying to keep his hands to himself as he slowly lost control of his body. The mix of your mouth around his cock, the sound of you actually gagging on him, and your nails digging into his thigh made him want to cum right then and there, but he held off as long as he could, not wanting to end the night prematurely. “I’m gonna-fuck- I’m gonna-!”
And he came in your mouth. And you swallowed it. He looked down at you, a sultry smirk on your lips and he could’ve cum again. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
You giggled. “Is that because I just sucked your dick?”
“N-no! I mean-” he stopped talking because you started laughing again.
“I’m kidding,” you smiled. “Thank you Oscar.”
He smiled, then pressed his lips to yours, pulling you closer to him. “Can I eat you out?” he mumbled between kisses.
You were taken aback, someone so shy and reserved happily asking you something so crude out of nowhere. “Y-yeah.”
“Yeah?” he looked at you through hooded eyes.
“Yeah.”
“Fucking beautiful,” he smirked, lifting you up easily as he lay back (for someone so skinny, he really was strong) and sat you straddling his face. “Y’gonna ride my face?” His hands gripped onto your ass, almost bruising as you whimpered at his nose meeting with your clit.
You didn’t answer, much too shocked and excited to speak.
He slapped your ass and it made you lurch forward, grinding against his nose. You moaned out. “Yes! Y-yes Osc!”
“Good girl,” he smirked, and then dove in.
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When you woke up with his arms around you and a sore but satisfied feeling between your legs, you smiled.
“Morning baby,” he smiled, noticing how you were finally opening your eyes.
“Hey,” you grinned, stretching.
“I hope you don’t think I called you here last night just to have sex with you, I really like you and I have for a long time and-”
“Oscar, I’m the one that asked to suck your dick, you’re the one who asked me to sit on your face, we both knew what we were doing.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess,” he took a deep breath. “So can I be your boyfriend?”
You smiled. “Yeah, you can.”
He pressed his lips to yours again.
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Was Oscar scared for his life while outside of the McLaren Motorhome in the Qatar paddock? Yes, very much so. Was he even more scared when George texted him, asking him to dinner with Toto, Susie, Jack, you, Lewis, and him? Yes, very much so.
He was terrified as he walked into the restaurant, a bunch of flowers in his hand, and his shirt was ironed. Oscar Jack Piastri had ironed his shirt. His mom would’ve been proud. When he saw Toto at a table for two, his face fell deeper into an expression of misery, and he somehow stopped himself from turning tail and running.
“Oscar!” Toto cheered, smiling like the Cheshire cat. “Come sit!”
He was being overly nice, but it was better than the other option, total and utter intimidation. “Hi Toto.”
He sat across from him, shaking his hand and placing the flowers beside him.
“The others will be here in a while,” Toto explained. “I just wanted to chat to you one on one. Congratulations on your win, by the way.”
Oscar nodded. “Thank you.”
“What are your intentions with Y/n?”
Oh. Straight into it.
“Date her?” he answered hesitantly. Toto sighed. Bad answer.
“Y/n is a very special person, in a lot of people’s lives. I don’t want to see you hurting her because-”
“Oh my god! Toto! What the fu-hell are you doing?” you questioned, rushing over to the two of them. Oscar sighed in relief, glad that you were here to save him from Toto’s torment. “I knew you would pull something like this!”
“Ich stelle ein paar Fragen, das ist alles!” (I’m just asking some questions, that’s all) he huffed, getting up. “Es ist kein Problem, ja?” (It’s no problem, yes?) he looked at a very confused Oscar who just stood and nodded. “See! It’s fine!”
“Toto, just let me live my own life, thank you very much. Also, I’ve known Oscar for much longer than you, and I can pick who I want to date, thank you very much,” you scoffed. You grabbed ahold of Oscar’s arm and he smiled, handing you the flowers he got you.
“You look gorgeous,” he whispered as you two watched Susie and Toto arguing over his over-protective tendencies, with George and Lewis joining in when they arrived.
“Thanks,” you smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I can’t believe you ironed your shirt.”
He chuckled. “Thought I’d try to make a good impression.”
“Well, Toto thinks you’re a great driver, and Susie likes you mum. Good impression made.”
He beamed at you as you chatted with Jack (who was holding your other hand) and made jokes about the situation at hand.
When the 7 of you finally sat at your table and the arguing stopped, pleasant conversation flowed, but then George and Lewis had their turn at interrogating Oscar.
"What's her favourite colour?" George asked.
Oscar smiled. "She doesn't have one."
"Favourite flower?" Lewis questioned.
Oscar just pointed to the bouquet of your favourite flowers he'd gotten you earlier.
"Favourite F1 driver?"
The entire table chuckled at that.
"Are we going legacy or current?" Oscar asked.
"Legacy, then current," George decided.
"Legacy; Rosberg, current, Hamilton," he smirked and the two men applauded.
"Right, good enough for me," George announced.
"If you hurt her, I'll push you off the track," Lewis smiled dangerously as he shook his hand.
"Gosh I'm so glad we live in the 1800s," you scoffed, teasing the men. They just rolled their eyes as Susie and Jack laughed at your joke.
When the end night concluded after one too many embarrassing stories about you, you walked out with Oscar’s hand in your left, and Jack’s in your right.
“Oscar,” Jack’s small voice rang out over the voices of the other people in the group. Oscar stopped and crouched down to hear him, and you snapped a quick photo, quickly putting it in your favourites. Your two boys. “I really like you, and Y/n really likes you. Please don’t make her sad.”
Oscar’s heart swelled at his words, getting acknowledgement from Jack? The highest honour. He nodded, smiling. “I’d never dream of it.”
Jack’s lips broke out into a smile. “Good!” and he skipped ahead and took your hand once more, Oscar following suit.
This really was the start of something great.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#mclaren#oscar piastri x fem!reader#f1 fluff#x reader#female reader#x reader insert#reader insert#x reader fic#x reader fluff#x reader fanfiction#fem reader#gn reader#f1#f1 smau#f1 imagines#f1 x you#requests#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction
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Snap Snap Snap
https://www.tumblr.com/boyimjustaloserforyourlove/767338606523301888/snap-snap-snap-pt-2?source=share part two!
LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED IN MY POSTS OR THE NEXT PART IN THE COMMENTS OR ANYWHERE ELSE!
me to their seminal vesicles because i wasn't raised to take shit from no man 💅🏻 also them to you in this smau✉️
my second request!!?! i hope this is to your standards. no Choso and Yuji because I can't see my babies snapping. it can't happen.
you like ? let me know! comments and reblogs and likes are appreciated and give me dopamine!
send requests, I'll probably do them all lol. i hope it is to your liking.
don't worry, both of these will be coming. your vote decides which one comes first
#jjk SMAU#jujutsu kaisen SMAU#jjk angst#jjk smut#jjk fluff#gojo SMAU#itadori SMAU#megumi SMAU#reader insert#jjk AU#jjk text fic#toji x reader#gojo x reader#itadori x reader#megumi x reader#angst#slow burn#secret relationship#fake dating#jealous#protective#break up#make up#texting#soft moments#toxic relationship#banter#yearning#misunderstandings#jjk
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# NICKNAME !
sum. they ask what their name is on your phone pair. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna, yuji, megumi, yuta, inumaki x reader cw. smau, crack
notes. omg i wrote the whole thing and while writing the tags i realized i didnt add choso UGHHH im so sad now
#jjk smau fic#jjk smau#smau jjk#jjk smau fluff#gojo smau#geto smau#nanami smau#toji smau#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk reader insert#jjk reader smau#jujutsu kaisen smau#jjk men x reader smau#jjk men smau#jjk men x you#jjk y/n#jjk men#gojo x reader smau#Nanami x reader smau#Geto x reader#toji x reader au#sukuna smau#Sukuna x reader#jjk gojo#gojo imagine#nanami kento x reader
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JJK Men: I’m Not Going To Make it Home
Character: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Fushiguro Toji, Ryomen Sukuna (Modern AU), Kamo Choso, AFAB!Reader
Warnings: angst, final goodbyes, suggestive death, near death
A/N: 🥲
Part Two
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks ks @reap3erslov3 3 @wil10wthetree @msniks @lana18918
Smau tag:
@creative1writings
#jjk smau#jjk x reader#jjk x you#smau jjk#jjk smau fic#jjk smau angst#jjk#jjk reader insert#jjk y/n#jjk men#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#geto x reader#nanami kento x reader#choso x you#sukuna au#sukuna x reader#toji x reader#gojo smau#geto smau#nanami smau#toji smau#choso smau#sukuna smau#jujutsu kaisen reader#jujutsu kaisen smau#jujutsu kaisen reader insert#jjk men smau#jjk men x you#jjk men x reader
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IF YOU WAKE HER UP, YOU’RE DEAD
A/N: oooook since anon have been asking for some relationship bakugo stuff, here’s my version for it. it’s my first time ever writing for him but i tried my best to picture him canon, soo enjoy!! you fell asleep on your boyfriend’s shoulder and you got caught too, what did he do?
The night was quiet, and the halls of U.A were empty. It was late—later than Bakugo usually stayed up, especially with a brutal training session awaiting him in the morning.
Still, here he was, sprawled on the common room couch with textbooks and notebooks scattered on the coffee table in front of him. He wasn’t one to study in the dorm’s common area, much preferring the solitude of his room. But tonight was different.
You were there with him.
He hadn’t planned it this way. Bakugo had been cramming, prepping for an upcoming test that Aizawa had threatened them all with. Normally, he would’ve told everyone else to stay the hell out of his way, barking at any idiot who dared to disturb him. But when you suggested studying together earlier, something in him gave.
He wouldn’t admit it, but the thought of you by his side made it tolerable—maybe even enjoyable.
The two of you had spent hours working in a comfortable silence. Well, comfortable for you. Bakugo had his usual scowl, occasionally muttering about the idiots in the class or cursing out loud when a particular formula or hero law didn’t make sense immediately. Despite his fiery demeanor, you could tell he was laser-focused, determined to come out on top. That was just who he was—always aiming for the number one spot. It was one of the many things you admired about him.
At some point, though, the exhaustion caught up with you. Katsuki had noticed you rubbing your eyes, trying to keep yourself awake as you scrawled down notes. He’d been keeping a sideways eye on you ever since, but said nothing, too proud to outright suggest you stop and go to bed. But deep down, he could see you were tired.
It had been a long day, and between morning classes and the intense afternoon training led by All Might, you were wiped. The sofa was comfortable, and the rhythmic sound of Bakugo flipping through pages and scribbling notes was strangely soothing.
Before you knew it, your eyelids grew heavy, and your body leaned unconsciously towards him. Your head found its way onto his shoulder, and before either of you realized, you had drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
Bakugo stiffened at first, feeling the weight of your head gently resting against him. The sudden warmth of your body against his side sent a jolt through his system. His first instinct was to wake you up with a sharp nudge—he wasn’t exactly used to people being this close to him, much less while he was supposed to be studying.
But for some reason, Bakugo couldn’t bring himself to do it. His eyes flicked down to your face, now completely relaxed in sleep. The furrow between your brows that had been there during studying was gone, replaced by a soft, peaceful expression. Your breathing was steady, slow.
“Damn,” Bakugo muttered under his breath, careful not to disturb you. You looked so calm, so vulnerable like this.
He wasn’t sure what to do with the feeling creeping up in his chest.
It wasn’t something he was used to—a strange mix of protectiveness and warmth, a side of him that he hadn’t fully come to terms with yet.
He shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position without moving you too much. He glanced around the empty common room, the soft glow of the single lamp casting long shadows on the walls. The dim lighting, paired with the quiet ticking of the wall clock, made the atmosphere feel almost intimate. His usual instinct to keep people at arm’s length was quieted by the sheer peace of the moment.
Still, he couldn’t help himself.
He muttered low under his breath, “Tch, idiot. You’re drooling on my shoulder…”
But there was no real heat in his voice. In fact, there was a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, though he’d never admit it. He reached out, grabbing the throw blanket that had been draped over the back of the couch, and carefully pulled it over you. His movements were slow and deliberate, making sure not to wake you. Normally, the thought of someone leaning on him, invading his space like this, would piss him off. But somehow, with you, it was different.
His red eyes softened as he watched your chest rise and fall, lost in your dreams. You trusted him—enough to fall asleep on him, enough to let your guard down entirely.
Katsuki knew what trust meant in this line of work. It was something you built through blood, sweat, and tears. It wasn’t something he gave away freely, either. But somehow, you had managed to crack through that thick, explosive shell of his.
Not that he’d admit that to anyone. Ever.
“Damn extras would never let me live this down,” he muttered to himself, feeling the slightest flush of embarrassment. His pride wouldn’t survive the onslaught of teasing that would surely follow if anyone saw him like this. Soft. Vulnerable.
Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, and Bakugo tensed. His eyes snapped towards the door just as it opened, revealing none other than Kirishima. Of course, it had to be him. The red-haired idiot had a knack for showing up at the worst times.
Kirishima’s eyes widened the second he took in the sight before him—Bakugo sitting stiffly on the couch, you curled up next to him, sound asleep. And there was a blanket.
Bakugo had covered you with a blanket.
A wide grin spread across Kirishima’s face, and Bakugo could already see the teasing coming a mile away. “Whoa, man, this is too cute!” Kirishima’s voice was loud, his words brimming with amusement. He took a step closer, clearly ready to capitalize on the rare sight.
Bakugo’s glare could’ve melted steel. His hand curled into a fist, and he raised a single, deadly finger to Kirishima. “Oi. If you wake her up, I swear on everything, you’re dead.”
Kirishima froze in place, hands raised in surrender, though his grin only widened. “Whoa, whoa! Chill, dude. I’m not gonna wake her. But come on, Bakugo, this is a side of you I never expected to see.”
Bakugo’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding audibly. “Shut it, Shitty Hair. Get lost before I blow your dumbass to pieces,” he growled, keeping his voice low enough not to disturb you.
But Kirishima wasn’t backing down. He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he shot Bakugo a knowing look. “Man, you’ve changed. You know that, right? I mean, I didn’t think I’d ever see the day you’d let someone fall asleep on you without, you know, blowing up half the room.” He gave Bakugo a thumbs-up, his smile genuine, despite the teasing. “She’s good for you, man.”
Bakugo’s eyes flashed dangerously, and for a moment, it looked like he might actually follow through with his threat. His hand twitched, tiny pops of sparks dancing at his fingertips, but he held himself back. Barely.
“You got three seconds to get out of here before I wipe that dumb grin off your face,” he hissed, his voice a low growl.
Kirishima laughed again, clearly enjoying how riled up Bakugo was getting. “Alright, alright! I’m going. Don’t get all fired up.” He took a step back, still grinning. “But seriously, Bakugo, it’s nice to see you like this. You should let it show more often.”
Bakugo’s eyes narrowed to slits, but before he could retort, Kirishima had already slipped out of the room, leaving Bakugo to seethe in silence.
“Tch. Stupid idiot…” he muttered under his breath, glaring at the door where Kirishima had been standing. His hands unclenched, and he leaned back against the couch, letting out a long breath. The tension that had built up in his shoulders slowly melted away as the room fell silent again. He glanced down at you, still fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the brief interaction.
The scowl softened on his face. He wasn’t one to express his feelings easily—or at all, really. His love was shown through action, through the way he looked out for you during training, or the way he pushed you to be better, stronger. But moments like this, where he allowed himself to be close, to let down his guard, were still foreign territory for him.
Carefully, Bakugo shifted his arm, resting it along the back of the couch behind you. He glanced at the clock. It was later than he thought, and the weariness in his own muscles was starting to catch up with him. He hadn’t planned on falling asleep out here, but with you curled up beside him, warm and steady, he could feel his eyelids growing heavier.
His eyes flicked back to you one last time. For all the hell you went through at UA, for all the chaos and danger they faced in their training and in the field, this was one moment of quiet he wasn’t going to take for granted.
Bakugo let out a quiet sigh, his body finally relaxing against the cushions.
His hand, still resting on the back of the couch, slowly found its way to yours under the blanket.
He laced his fingers with yours, feeling the warmth of your skin against his.
He closed his eyes, letting the steady rhythm of your breathing lull him into a rare state of peace.
Before he knew it, he had drifted off too, his head leaning back against the couch, his breathing evening out into soft, steady inhales and exhales.
When Bakugo woke up the next morning, the first thing he noticed was the sunlight creeping through the common room window, casting long, golden beams across the floor. He blinked, his mind still foggy with sleep, before realizing he was still on the couch. And you were still nestled up beside him.
His heart gave a brief, surprised lurch before he quickly masked the feeling with a grunt. He shifted slightly, careful not to disturb you, but the movement must have been enough because you stirred, your head lifting slowly from his shoulder.
“Mmm… morning,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes as you blinked awake.
Bakugo turned his head slightly, trying to sound casual. “Morning,” he grunted, his voice still rough with sleep. He felt you pull away a bit, and immediately, the cold air hit where your warmth had been. His first instinct was to grumble about it, but instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets, standing up quickly. “You drooled on me, idiot,” he said, his tone sharp, but not biting. It was more teasing than anything else.
Your face flushed with embarrassment, a small, sleepy smile tugging at your lips. “Sorry…”
Bakugo rolled his eyes, turning away as he stretched, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness. “Tch. Just don’t make a habit of it,” he muttered, though the usual harsh edge in his voice was absent. There was something softer, more subdued, as if last night’s vulnerability had lingered in the air.
As you stood up and stretched, Bakugo glanced towards the door, half-expecting Kirishima or another one of the extras to barge in with more teasing remarks. He wasn’t in the mood for any of that right now. But the common room was still empty, the rest of the dorms quiet in the early morning.
Bakugo walked towards the door, glancing back over his shoulder at you. “C’mon,” he said, his voice back to its usual gruffness. “Let’s grab some breakfast before the damn extras wake up. And don’t expect me to wait for you,” he added, though there was no real bite in his words.
But as you fell in step beside him, your hand brushing against his briefly, Katsuki felt that familiar warmth bloom in his chest again.
#mha x reader#bnha#bnha x reader#mha#bakugou katsuki#mha bakugou#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha bakugou#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo mha#bakugo katuski#bakugou x y/n#katsukibakugou#katsuki bakugo fluff#mha reader insert#mha smau#mha fanfiction#my hero academia#boku no hero academia
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more texts with.... ur boyfriend... ryomen sukuna p1 // p2 // p3 (here!)
cw: usual sukuna shenanigans. uhh... i think thats it?
note: more... more.... MORE!!!... sukuna discovering emojis is my favourite thing ever LMAO dividers by @saradika-graphics ˊᵕˋ
#smaaau#meow.//#jjk#ryomen sukuna#jjk sukuna#sukuna ryomen#sukuna x reader#sukuna ryoumen x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu sukuna#jjk smau#smau#jjk x reader#x reader#self insert#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐒
Big Brother Au Masterlist | Taglist
Note: For those who are new around here, Older Brother Sukuna is toddler Yuujis older brother, not readers! Sometimes the name is a little confusing lolol. I thought these were just silly little things I can add to the AU!!
This is my first time doing texting prompts, so be kind to me lololol.
Warnings: curse words, jealously and possesiveness, Sukuna is a brat lol
#big brother au#mello.writes#sukuna x reader#kid yuuji#sukuna x you#sukuna fluff#yuuji fluff#yuuji tadori fluff#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#reader insert#x reader#fem reader#female reader#f! reader#fem! reader#texting smau#jjk smau#jjk text#sukuna smau#sukuna texts
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𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬
• Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Female!Reader.
• Requested: nope.
• Summary: a thread of why you and Charles aren’t just friends.
• Warning: none just fluff.
• A/N: I had this one on the drafts for so long I even forgot about it so I’m posting it now since it’s been a while I posted something lmao I’m still learning with the social media au so beat with me but here it is, I hope you’ll like it ❤️
Instagram
Tagged: charles_leclerc
Liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, landonorris and other 627.815
yourusername @charles_leclerc I told you we should’ve taken some acting classes.
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charles_leclerc What do you mean acting classes baby? I was pretty good convincing everyone you were just a friend 🙄
carlossainz55 😐
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charles_leclerc I hate you all
yourusername @charles_leclerc Oh is that so?
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yourusername @charles_leclerc Damn ok no need to be so harsh 😔
charles_leclerc @/yourusername I can hear you giggling mon amour. Now come back to bed I’m not done with you yet.
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⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ Aussie Athletes
♥ masterlist
♥ pairing: oscar piastri x fem!sargeant!ballerina!reader
♥ smau - fluff
♥ a/n: I said I'd write some ballet fics so here's one lol. I'm going to write some ship fic ballet au's (drivers as ballet dancers) after I finish my folklore and Romeo and Juliet series'. Also! I'm performing a don quixote variation this weekend so wish me luck lol :) (none of the pictures are mine)
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yourusername First Day @/ausballet
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logansargeant congrats sis
yourusername <3
user14 she's in Australia now 🫢
user3 PLEASE let that mean she'll be at more races now
yourusername 👀
user5 💗💗💗
oscarpiastri welcome to Australia
landonorris trying to get a date on main?
logansargeant don't even think about it piastri
oscarpiastri ???
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
2023 British GP
You walked into the paddock bright and early to find your brother before he was busy with qualifying. You ended up running into a different, yet familiar face instead.
“Oh, hey Oscar,” you smiled
“Didn’t expect you to be here with your new Australian ballet career,” he smirked and took a sip of the water he had in his hand. “You don’t have a busy schedule?
“I do, but the season wrapped last month. I figured I’d come down here and support Logan, you know? I’ve got a lot of training to do when I get back, though.” you laughed softly.
Oscar hummed in an understanding response.
“How’s it been there?”
“Good,” you paused. “Tough, too.”
“I’m sure it is. It’s an art and a sport.”
“People don't really consider what I do “a sport”.”
“They say the same about racing.”
“I guess we have something to bond over.” you smiled.
You both heard Lando call Oscar's name, gesturing for him to go to their garage. Oscar gave an awkward, blush-filled goodbye and ran towards the Brit on the other side of the pit lane.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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yourusername he says I'm so american
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lilymhe top golf double date
yourusername we are so there
user7 WHO IS HE
user9 y/n x oscar crumbs
user2 crying and writing fics
logansargeant 😐
yourusername ...
user6 @/landonorris please tell us she's with oscar
user8 why would lando know?
landonorris 🤐
user8 @/user6 I'm sorry I wasn't familiar with your game, clearly Lando does know
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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yourusername opening night 🧡
logansargeant you did amazing 💐
user2 the orange heart...
user5 NOT a coincidence
user8 AND it's f1's winter break meaning Oscar is back home in Australia where it just so happens y/n dances at
user4 the pieces of the puzzle are finally coming together
ausballet our sugar plum fairy
yourusername <3
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Time Skip - 2024
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 670,895 more
yourusername MONACO <3
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charles_leclerc welcome to the piastri-leclerc family
yourusername I'm honored, thank you charles
oscarpiastri so when should she meet my brother leo?
user6 Y/N'S APART OF THE JOKE NOW 😭
user10 someone go get Nicole
user4 y/n l/n-piastri-leclerc
logansargeant don't break her heart
oscarpiastri I won't I swear
#𝒍𝒊𝒗'𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 ౨ৎ#this literally took so long to make#I know I know it's called Aussie athletes but she's American#she dances for the Australian ballet it’s fine it works#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 smau#formula 1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#reader fic#x reader#fem reader#reader insert#oscar piastri#op81#op81 x reader#op81 fic#op81 fluff#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#ballet dancer#ballet#ballet fic#smau#f1 social media au#fake texts#fake tweets
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ur camera roll if heeseung was ur bf!
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
#x reader#imagine#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#enhypen#enhypen smau#smau#heeseung#lee heeseung#heesung enhypen#heeseung smau#lee heeseung smau#reader insert#reader
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Pregnancy Symptoms II: Cravings
💗Established relationship, fluff and pregnancy. As always pls ignore typos 🙂↕️ I’m terrible at proofreading💗
Part 1 Part 3
smau masterlist • Taglist open!
🏷️: @pixelcafe-network @guacam011y @starlightanyaaa @parasite-b
#jjk texts#jjk fic#jjk smau#smau#text fic#gojo x reader#geto x reader#nanami x reader#toji x reader#sukuna x reader#choso x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader#no use of y/n#reader insert#jjk x reader#nanami kento#geto suguru#gojo satoru#toji fushiguro#choso kamo#ryomen sukuna
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playing favourites- o.piastri
summary: your first season as an f1 driver doesn't start the best, and you quickly realise McLaren doesn't like women very much. On top of that, your race engineer is as smug as the rest of them, and you have to deal with him all the time.
pairing: race engineer! oscar piastri x f1driver! fem! reader
warnings: lots of misogyny, lando is an asshole in this, illusions to ed behaviour, reader is not in a good head space, all of mclaren is super sexist.
pls remember this is fiction and purely for fun!
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅
It wasn’t exactly your plan to have a DNF on your first race but, thus the joys of a backmarker team. Zak had promised you, sworn even, that McLaren would be up there, fighting with Ferrari and RedBull. He’d told you that leaving RedBull would be worth it. Now, you were getting beaten by a fucking VCarb, the seat you could’ve had. You stalked over to Oscar once you got out of the car.
“Care to fucking explain?” you scoffed. He looked at you, unimpressed.
“It was an error with the steering wheel,” he shrugged. “Nothing you, or I, could’ve done.”
You sighed. “Of course not. Nothing anyone could’ve done, do you think the media will take that? Do you think this won’t mark my fucking career?! Oscar I need you to understand-”
“Stop shouting at him, it wasn’t his fault,” Zak demanded.
“Exactly, it’s yours. Make your car drivable,” you said before walking away.
It was your reputation on the line, your career, your life. You’d worked to be in Formula One your entire life, you were the first woman in years. You didn’t have the option of ‘just having a bad race’. You had to impress every single time, or else you’d be ridiculed. You knew what you’d see online tonight. You knew what people would say. You knew what questions you’d get from reporters. You knew it all. You’d done the song and dance a million times before, and you weren’t interested in doing it again.
“SO, WHAT HAPPENED?” “YOUR FANS ARE DEMANDING ANSWERS?” “WAS THIS AN ACTUAL FAILURE OF THE CAR, OR JUST THE DRIVER?” “WHAT DID YOU SAY TO YOUR RACE ENGINEER AFTER?” “DO YOU TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR YOUR RACE?” “WHAT DO YOU SAY ABOUT PEOPLE’S OPINIONS ON YOUR DRIVING AFTER TODAY?” “SHOULD YOU HAVE STAYED AT REDBULL?”
“ARE YOU EVEN A GOOD DRIVER?”
Walking out of the media pen, you had your head hung low and a blank expression. Every single reporter wanted to talk to you. Every question was more and more degrading, and you just felt empty by the end of it. Megan, your press officer, left you in the hallway of the motorhome and you leant against it and sighed.
You couldn’t keep doing this.
In recent months you’d been questioning whether or not any of this was worth it. Every single weekend of your career had been a step towards gender equality, you were the poster-girl for being a good driver, but it was always just not enough. You’d left RedBull because of it. You realised they’d never give you a seat and just continue to use you as a diversity hire. It hurt though, that had been your home for years. You’d always been a RedBull driver, since you were in karting. The whole lead up to your first race was months and months of questions, everyone wondering if you could finally show everyone that women deserved seats in F1.
And you’d just fucked it up.
You hadn’t even noticed that you’d started crying until you felt them on your cheeks. You quickly wiped them away, but it wasn’t quick enough to fool Oscar. He frowned as he looked at you, walking towards you. You rolled your eyes. “Don’t fucking pity me,” you scoffed. “Come on, we have to debrief,” you said, walking into the boardroom.
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅
“Oscar, when am I pitting?” you shouted, hoping he would finally fucking answer you.
“I’m not sure yet, give me a moment Y/n-”
“Y’know it’s really fucking impressive how we finally get in the points and now I’m getting fucking undercut because you’re not fucking ready Oscar, this is ridiculous!” you shouted.
“Pitting next lap,” he said, neutral. It pissed you off how level-headed he was.
“Fuck off,” you muttered. You pitted next lap. You finished the race in P11.
Shit.
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅
“Fuck!” you shouted at Oscar, getting out of the car. “This is such fucking bullshit.”
“Y/n-” he started.
“Just fuck off,’ you sighed, pushing his hand off your arm. “That would’ve been our best finish! P5?! And then Lando turns into me?!”
He nodded. “Calm down,” he soothed. Your mood turned.
“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” you ripped your arm back.
Lando DNFed. You DNFed. Shit.
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅
P15, another failure. At least you’d gotten higher than Lando, stuck down in P17. 5 races in and 0 points between the two of you? Fucking hell. You’d never scored so badly in your life. You walked over to the barrier, finding Oscar standing there.
“Sorry,” you sighed. “We’re so fucking slow.”
He nodded. “We’ll keep working.”
You nodded, but you felt that same nausea twisting your gut.
“Are you hungry?” he asked, somehow sensing it all. You shook your head.
He stared at you a second longer, then took your answer, despite the way he sensed your lie.
You two didn’t get along. He understood that. It didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of your insane diet and work out regimen. He was completely aware of the way you blame yourself despite the car being the only issue. He watched you work yourself to the bone. He almost wished you would be a bit more arrogant, like Lando, he wished it fell off your shoulders as easily as it did his.
He couldn’t stand the media. The narrative they were pushing about you was ridiculous. You’d won every junior series, you’d waited your turn in RedBull, only to get kicked to the curb, you were good enough, but something told him you were starting to believe otherwise.
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅
“So what’s the issue?” Zak sighed, pacing the garage, starting one of his famous pep talks.
“Y/n,” a voice from the back muttered and everyone's heads snapped to you. It had been one of the mechanics who had preferred Carlos, but you just shrugged. A few chuckles were heard, one of them coming from Lando himself, and you just continued what you were doing, staring off into space.
“It’s the car we built,” Zak answered his own question, trying to do damage control.
“She’s not exactly Hamilton,” Lando said, a little bit too loud, as he joked with his engineer.
“She’s consistently placed in front of you in the same car,” Oscar pointed out, his voice neutral. “The only reason she DNFed in Saudi Arabia was because you turned into her. Also, you haven’t gotten any points.”
“What are you, her boyfriend?” He chuckled, making the garage laugh. You rolled your eyes, getting up and walking off. “Is she fucking PMSing?”
Oscar’s blood boiled at the way his co-workers laughed at that, at you. You didn’t deserve this shit from Lando, from anyone. Oscar went after you. He stopped right outside your driver’s room.
“I don’t know what to do.
He heard your voice, thick with emotion.
“You’re not working hard enough, look at Lando. You have to pay your dues here, it’s how McLaren works. Go for a run and clear your head.”
“I’m exhausted-”
“I’m not asking.”
He stepped back, letting the door swing open. You stared back at him with wide eyes. “Run?” he offered.
“She should go on her own-”
“Yeah, sure,” you shrugged.
You didn’t like Oscar, but it was better than going alone.
“What’s Richards’s problem?” he asked as you two ran the streets of Miami in the pitch black of the night. Richard was your trainer.
“He’s just a bit of a pushover,” you shrugged. “He’s making me better.”
“He’s making you train more, relax less, and eat less,” Oscar pointed out. “Is that better?”
“So you’re a health expert now?” you scoffed. “The gaul of you, to always assume that you know better than someone just because you can. It is fucking insane how much of an ego everyone here has.”
“Maybe you should get one,” he scoffed.
“An ego? No thanks.”
“No, a backbone,” Oscar said. “You can’t let Lando walk all over you, he’s without.”
“Without what?”
He shrugged. “You know what I mean.”
“I don’t,” you continued. “Explain.”
Oscar smirked. “Talent.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re so strange.”
And off you went, running again.
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅
P4, finally a good result, finally a result worth all the struggle, all the shit, everything.
But no one was at the barricade. None of your mechanics, no Zak, no one. Not even Oscar. You looked like a fucking idiot. Lando had DNFed. They were busy with him. McLaren was such a fucking boys club, and you didn’t fit in. You shook your head as you searched the barricade, not one familiar face to be had. Bullshit.
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅
You walked back into the motorhome after all of your media duties, and you scoffed when they let out a half-hearted cheer. No celebration for you, only sympathy for Lanod, who crashed because of his own reckless driving, Lando who was totally fine, Lando. You pretended it didn’t hurt. You’d been congratulated by everyone else, every other driver, especially Danny, Liam, Yuki, Max, and Checo. They all gave you the biggest hug, told you how well you were doing, and celebrated you. You wished you’d just stayed as their reserve driver. Maybe then you’d be something to someone.
You stumbled into your driver’s room and found a note on your table, beside it, your favourite chocolate bar.
Congratulations on your result, you deserve to be celebrated, but Lando sucks so we had to pretend that you aren’t incredible. I thought you’d enjoy something sweet, sorry we had to be the ones to leave the bitter taste in your mouth.
Osc.
You stared down at it for a moment. Oscar knew your favourite chocolate bar. Oscar explained himself and apologised. Oscar was there for you, even if it was just in spirit. Oscar wanted to celebrate you. He wished he didn’t have to leave you alone, standing in Parc Fermé with no one to congratulate you.
“Fuck you,” you said, to no one in particular. You were alone, as always. You crumbled up the note and threw it into the bin.
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅
When Oscar looked at his desk in MTC the next morning and found the same chocolate bar he’d spent 3 hours searching for, he frowned. McLaren was ruining you slowly. Your mental health was falling further and further away from ‘alright’, and he seemed to be the only one to notice it. He saw you out of the corner of his eye. “Y/n,” he called. “Come here.”
You rolled your eyes, walking over to him. “What?”
“I don’t like these,” he shrugged. “You should take it, I’m sorry-”
“I don’t like them either,” you shrugged. “Go give it to Lando, since you’re his bitch now too.”
“I-”
“I don’t fucking care about where your loyalty lies, Oscar, but don’t play both sides. You picked one in Imola, so stick with it,” you seethed, hitting the bar out of his hand.
୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅
navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
playing favourites masterlist
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x you#formula one x reader#formula 1#formula one#mclaren#oscar piastri x fem!reader#f1 fluff#x reader#female reader#x reader insert#reader insert#x reader fic#x reader fluff#x reader fanfiction#fem reader#gn reader#f1#f1 smau#f1 imagines#f1 x you#requests#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction
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Pics that remind me of toji (mostly freaky ahh pics), jjk Twitter links!
Tw; freaky, suggestive, blackfem!reader, olderbf!Toji, links, nsfw, ;)
Twitter links (nsfw) that remind me of Toji
tw; p in v, public sex, car sex, choking, ass eating, spanking, etc
car sex
All tied up for him
Roleplay
Fingering you while kissing you <3
He wants you pregnant <3
Fingering you while kissing you pt.2
All tied for him pt.2
Public sex
Ghostface
Cumming in your panties
PLAP PLAP
Fucking yourself while he's gaming
Sucking his cock <3
You let your friend suck his pretty dick <3
He failed NNN
Bouncing on his dick while stroking it <3
Your boyfriend decided to cheat so you decided to fuck Toji his best friend
Relaxing day in
Divider by @xurengu0 <3
#tumblr fyp#alixezae#18+ mdni#jjk fyp#jjk x reader#reader smut#toji smut#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#toji x reader smut#toji x reader#toji fluff#toji smau#toji x you#toji x self insert#toji x black reader#toji x black y/n#jjk fluff#jjk smut#jjk tweets#jjk fanart#jjk#jjk drabbles#jjk smau#jjk texts#jjk twitter links#jjk x reader smut#jjk imagines
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Hiii I have a request for you. Can I pls have a princess!reader x Max Verstappen. Something happened (maybe like too much royal duties) and she had to get away for a bit. And she ran across Max and they ended up hanging out together. And then he made her feel normal so she kept sneaking out to see him.
Maybe you can make it a little angsty with a HEA pls.
Ps, I love your writing! Can I be 🐴 anon?
THE PRINCESS AND THE DRIVER PT1 | MV1
an: thank you for this request and yes of course you can be 🐴 anon! i'm having way too much fun writing this and i've yapped my buttocks off, i'm already at 14k words so i'm going to split this into a few parts and i hope you enjoy it! <3
wc: 6.4K
The Princess had spent the evening pretending everything was fine. She’d smiled through the formal dinner, nodded politely at endless conversations, and held herself with the grace expected of her. But as the night wore on, the weight of it all pressed down on her chest like a tight corset, squeezing the air from her lungs. Every curtsy, every forced laugh, had added another layer to the suffocation.
By the time the palace halls had grown quiet, she couldn’t bear it any longer. She needed to get out—away from the golden chandeliers, the careful whispers, and the constant eyes that watched her every move. It felt like she was drowning in expectations, and the only way to breathe was to leave, even if just for a few hours.
The stables were her refuge. She’d discovered that long ago, as a child, when the pressures of the court were less heavy but still present, lurking in the background. Now, as she slipped into the stables’ cool shadows, she felt her heartbeat slow just a little, her muscles loosening in the familiar surroundings. The smell of hay and horses grounded her, bringing her a small sense of peace.
She walked softly, the thick, polished soles of her boots barely making a sound against the stone floor. The horses stirred as she passed, their gentle snorts and soft whinnies acknowledging her presence but not alarmed. She stopped for a moment by her favourite, Orla, a chestnut mare who nudged her shoulder affectionately. She stroked the mare’s mane, whispering a quiet apology for not taking her out tonight. Orla would understand; this wasn’t a night for riding.
Moving to the back corner of the stable, she crouched down and brushed away the loose straw to reveal a wooden panel in the wall. With a soft grunt, she pried it loose, the way she had done so many times before. This was her secret—a gap that led to the fields beyond the palace grounds. Not even her personal guards knew about it. She had discovered it as a young girl, slipping through the hole in search of adventure when the confines of the palace walls grew too small.
Now, that same urge pulled her through the narrow opening, but it wasn’t adventure she sought—it was escape. The cold air hit her face as she emerged on the other side, the smell of grass and earth filling her lungs. For the first time all night, she felt like she could breathe.
The field stretched out in front of her, wide and dark under the night sky. The moon hung low, casting a silvery glow on the tall grass that swayed gently in the breeze. She pulled her hood over her head, hiding her most definitely recognisable hair, and stepped forward. The ground was uneven beneath her feet, the soft squelch of mud and grass a welcome contrast to the polished marble floors of the palace.
As she walked, the palace grew smaller behind her, its golden lights dimming until it was just a distant glow on the horizon. She paused for a moment, turning back to look at it—a fortress of expectations and responsibilities. It felt strange to see it from here, like it was part of someone else’s life. Someone who wasn’t her.
Turning away, she continued across the field, when she saw it. A karting track lay just beyond the hill, the faint hum of engines already audible in the distance. She had heard the sounds many times before while sneaking out but had never been, the laughter and cheers carried on the wind, but had never dared to go closer. Tonight, though, something was different. Maybe it was the exhaustion, or maybe it was the desire to feel something other than the heavy weight of duty. She wasn’t sure. But tonight, she would go. She would see what it was like to be just... normal.
The lights of the track grew brighter as she crested the hill. From here, she could see the racers whizzing by in small go-karts, their faces blurred by speed and excitement. A group of people stood by the sidelines, watching, some laughing, some leaning against the fence with drinks in hand. It was a world apart from hers, and yet it called to her.
She lingered at the edge of the track, keeping her hood pulled low as she observed. No one paid her any attention, and that in itself was a relief. She wasn’t a princess here. She was just another person, another face in the crowd. The knot in her chest loosened slightly, the familiar ache of expectation easing.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t notice someone approaching until a voice broke through the hum of engines.
“First time?”
Startled, she turned to see a man standing beside her, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. He had a relaxed posture, his expression open and friendly, like talking to a stranger was the most natural thing in the world, but he too had a hoodie fully covering his face. His eyes were bright, but not with recognition. There was no flicker of surprise, no hint that he knew who she was. Just casual curiosity.
“Uh… yeah,” she replied, her voice hesitant. She tugged her hood a little lower, instinctively trying to hide.
The guy turned around and she could see his face properly, he was gorgeous as he smiled at her, a lopsided grin that was both easygoing and warm. “It’s fun,” he said, nodding towards the track. “You should try it.”
“I’m not really dressed for it,” She said, glancing down at her boots. They were sturdy but far from practical for something like this.
He shrugged, still smiling. “Doesn’t matter. Half the people out there don’t know what they’re doing either. It’s just for fun.” He paused, then added, “I’m Max, by the way.”
His name hung in the air for a moment, simple and unassuming. He didn’t ask for hers, didn’t press. It felt strange—refreshing, even. No titles, no formalities. Just... Max.
She hesitated, glancing at the track. The racers zoomed by, their shouts of excitement echoing in the cool night air. For a moment, she could almost imagine what it would feel like—no duties, no one watching, just speed and laughter. It was tempting. More tempting than she wanted to admit.
“I don’t know...” she started, but her words trailed off as Max leaned casually against the fence beside her, his posture easy and unbothered.
“No pressure,” he said, with a shrug that was so natural it almost made her laugh. “You can just watch if you want. But trust me, once you try it, you won’t want to stop.”
She looked at him, studying the relaxed set of his shoulders, the comfortable way he seemed to fit into this world. He didn’t have that tight, rigid way of standing that she saw in the palace—where everyone was always conscious of how they looked, of what others thought of them. Max was... easy. Uncomplicated.
It was such a stark contrast to the world she’d just left behind.
“Is it always like this?” she asked, her voice softer now, more curious than hesitant.
Max turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “Like what?”
“Just... fun.” She felt a little silly asking, but the words slipped out before she could stop them.
Max chuckled, shaking his head. “Depends on who you ask. Some people get real competitive out here, but for most of us? Yeah, it’s just a way to blow off steam. No big deal.” He glanced at her, a hint of curiosity in his eyes now, though still no recognition. “You from around here? Never seen you at the track before.”
Her heart skipped a beat. For a second, she almost blurted out the truth, but the words caught in her throat. No, I’m not from here felt too close to I’m the princess of this country, and she wasn’t ready to give up her anonymity yet. Not here. Not when it felt so good to be invisible.
“I don’t get out much,” she said, keeping her answer vague. It wasn’t technically a lie.
“Figured,” Max said with a teasing grin. “You’ve got that ‘I’m-too-good-for-this-place’ look about you.”
She blinked, then laughed, the sound surprising even to her. It wasn’t the forced, polite laughter she had perfected for royal gatherings. This was real—spontaneous, like the feeling of breaking the surface after holding your breath for too long.
Max grinned wider at her reaction. “See? Already starting to loosen up.”
She shook her head, but she couldn’t stop smiling. She liked this—liked how easy it was to talk to him, how he had no idea who she was and didn’t seem to care. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she could just... be.
“I guess I could give it a try,” she said after a moment, surprising herself with her own words.
Max’s eyes lit up. “That’s the spirit! Come on, I’ll show you how it works.”
He led her towards the pit area, where a few go-karts sat idle, waiting for the next round. Her pulse quickened as they approached. The karts looked small, but the thought of actually getting in one and racing felt exhilarating—and a little terrifying. She had never done anything like this before. Her life was too controlled, too polished. But here, surrounded by the hum of engines and the laughter of people who didn’t care about titles or status, it was easy to forget all that.
Max handed her a helmet. “Here, put this on. And don’t worry—everyone’s a little nervous their first time. Once you get going, it’s a blast.”
She took the helmet, her fingers brushing against the cool surface. For a moment, she hesitated, the weight of her real life lingering at the back of her mind. But then she thought of the palace, of the endless duties and expectations that would be waiting for her when she returned. Tonight, she didn’t want to be a Princess. She wanted to be someone else. Even if it was just for a little while.
Slipping the helmet on, she pulled the strap tight and climbed into the kart. It felt strange, sitting so low to the ground, the engine rumbling beneath her like a living thing. Max knelt beside her, adjusting a few straps and showing her the pedals. His voice was calm, instructive, and for the first time in a long while, someone was teaching her something without being stiff or overly formal. She liked it.
“Alright,” Max said, standing up and giving her a thumbs up. “You’re all set. Just take it easy on the first lap—get used to the feel of it. After that, let loose.”
She nodded, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary. Her heart pounded in her chest as the flag waved and the others sped off, leaving her sitting still for a beat longer. But then she pressed down on the gas pedal, and the kart jerked forward, the wind rushing past her face.
At first, she was cautious, her fingers gripping the wheel tightly as the kart bumped along the track. But as she rounded the first corner and the engine roared, a spark lit inside her. The fear melted away, replaced by a thrill she hadn’t expected. The sensation of speed, of being in control of something that moved so fast—it was intoxicating.
She leaned into the next turn, feeling the kart glide smoothly along the curve, the tension in her shoulders easing. The wind whipped against her face, but she didn’t care. She laughed—loud and unrestrained, the sound swallowed by the night. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so free, so... alive.
Max was right. Once you started, it was hard to stop.
When she finally pulled back into the pit area, her heart was still racing, her breath coming in quick bursts. Max was waiting for her, his grin wide and approving.
“Well?” he asked, arms crossed as he leaned casually against the fence. “Not bad for a first-timer.”
She took off her helmet, her hair wild and her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t care. “That was... amazing,” she admitted, unable to stop smiling.
“See?” Max said, laughing. “Told you.”
For a moment, standing there with the wind still rushing through her hair and her body buzzing from the ride, she forgot who she was. She wasn’t the princess here. She wasn’t responsible for the weight of an entire country. She was just a girl, laughing at a racetrack with a guy who didn’t know her, and it felt... perfect.
She leaned against the kart for a moment, still catching her breath. Her pulse was racing, and not just from the speed. She couldn’t shake the pure, unfiltered exhilaration that had coursed through her veins. The feeling of freedom, of shedding the weight of expectations, even if only for a short time, was unlike anything she had felt in years.
Max was watching her with a casual smile, clearly amused by the joy lighting up her face. She caught her breath, realising how utterly at ease he seemed, as though this was his world and everyone else was just passing through it.
“Not bad, right?” he said, his voice still warm and relaxed.
“Not bad?” she laughed softly, shaking her head. “That was... incredible. I didn’t know something so simple could feel that good.”
“Simple?” Max grinned, looking genuinely entertained. “You’ve never been karting before, huh?”
She shook her head, wiping a loose strand of hair from her face. “No. Never.”
He leaned closer, his expression still friendly but with a glint of curiosity in his eyes. “You really don’t get out much, do you?”
The question was casual, but it hit closer to home than she cared to admit. She shrugged it off, pulling her hood back over her head, as though it would somehow shield her from further questions.
“I guess not,” she said, her voice softer now.
Max nodded, seeming to accept that without prying. “Well, if you liked that, you’d probably love a real race. You ever watch Formula One?”
The mention of Formula One caught her off guard, and she shook her head. “No... not really my thing.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Really? You don’t even know any of the drivers?”
She could only smile awkwardly, realising that she had no idea how big of a deal Formula One was, let alone the names involved in it. “Nope. Can’t say I do.”
Max let out a soft laugh, as though the idea of someone not knowing about Formula One was a little unbelievable, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he smiled again, more to himself this time, and shrugged. “That’s refreshing, actually. You’re not missing much, anyway,” he added with a wink, making it sound like an inside joke she didn’t quite understand.
Just as she was about to respond, the faint chime of a clock echoed in the distance. It was so far away, nearly drowned out by the hum of engines, but it pierced through her, pulling her back to reality. She froze for a moment, the fun of the evening abruptly replaced by the realisation of what time it was.
“Oh no,” she muttered, standing up straight and glancing toward the palace grounds, hidden behind the field and trees.
“What?” Max asked, his brow furrowed.
She gave him a tight smile. “I should probably go. It’s... getting late.” She didn’t want to leave. Not yet. But she knew she had to.
Max studied her for a moment, his playful grin fading into something softer. “You sure? I can walk you back if you want.”
The offer was kind, but the last thing she needed was Max seeing the palace guards and connecting the dots. She could only imagine how complicated things would get if he found out who she really was. She shook her head quickly, hoping her refusal didn’t seem rude.
“No, thank you. I’m fine. Really.”
Max didn’t press, though something in his eyes told her he was still curious. “Alright,” he said with a small nod. “But hey, I’m gonna be in town for the next two weeks, so if you feel like sneaking out again, I’ll be here. Same time, same place.”
She couldn’t help but smile at that. The idea of doing this again—of stepping back into this world where no one knew her, where she could just be—was more tempting than it should have been. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, her voice soft but genuine.
She turned to leave, feeling the cool night air brush against her skin, but something made her glance back. Max was watching her, leaning casually against the kart with that easy smile, as though none of this was out of the ordinary. It was strange how comfortable she felt with him—a stranger—and how much she didn’t want to go.
“See you around, stranger,” Max called after her, his tone playful but sincere.
She gave him one last wave before heading back across the field, the lights of the track slowly fading behind her. The palace loomed ahead, a reminder of everything she had to return to—her responsibilities, her duties, her carefully controlled life. But even as she slipped through the hidden passage in the stables, the thrill of the night lingered, like a secret she carried with her.
Once inside the palace walls, she moved quickly, keeping to the shadows. Her heart was still racing, but now it was from the fear of getting caught. She slipped back into her room unnoticed, quietly closing the heavy door behind her. For a moment, she stood there in the silence, the warmth and grandeur of her surroundings feeling strangely suffocating after the openness of the track.
Kicking off her boots, she padded to the window, pulling aside the heavy velvet curtain to look out over the darkened palace grounds. The karting track wasn’t visible from here, but she could still imagine it, hear the hum of the engines, and feel the wind on her face. She hadn’t felt so alive in years.
As she changed into her pyjamas and prepared for bed, her mind kept drifting back to Max. The way he had spoken to her so easily, without hesitation, without any of the reverence or caution people usually showed her. It felt like they were equals. No expectations, no carefully chosen words. He had no idea who she was. And she hadn’t known him, either.
The following evening, she sat at her vanity, staring at her reflection. Her hair was pinned perfectly, her skin glowing under the soft light of the chandelier. But all she could think about was the wind in her hair, the roar of engines, and the unfamiliar freedom she had tasted the night before.
She was expected at dinner in an hour, a formal affair with visiting dignitaries—yet another night of forced smiles, stifling conversations, and the suffocating weight of being a Princess. The thought of sitting through it made her chest tighten with the same anxiety she’d felt the previous night. She couldn’t do it, not tonight.
Her heart raced as she made her decision. She needed to feel that freedom again.
Standing up, she walked toward her door and opened it just enough to see the palace corridors beyond. Quiet. Perfect. She padded down the hallway to her parents’ private chamber and knocked softly.
Her mother’s voice answered from inside, “Come in.”
She entered, finding her mother seated at a desk, reviewing documents. The Queen looked up with a warm but distracted smile.
“Hello darling. Ready for dinner?”
She hesitated for just a second, but her face betrayed nothing. “Actually, Mother,” she said softly, “I’m not feeling well. I think I might be coming down with something.”
Concern flickered across her mother’s features. “Oh no, my dear. Is it serious? Should I send for the royal physician?”
She quickly shook her head, her heart pounding as she forced a smile. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. I think I just need to rest. A quiet evening in my room should help.” She tried to sound as casual as possible, hoping her mother wouldn’t press further.
The Queen studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. Take care of yourself, darling. You can join us tomorrow.”
“I will,” she promised, relieved that it had been so easy. She gave her mother a small smile before excusing herself from the room, and the moment the door was closed, her heart began to race for an entirely different reason.
She wasn’t going to her room. She was going back to the track.
Less than fifteen minutes later, she was once again slipping through the hidden gap in the stable wall, her pulse quickening with every step she took away from the palace. The familiar field stretched out before her, bathed in moonlight, and the sound of distant engines filled the air as she drew closer to the track.
A thrill surged through her. She hadn’t felt this kind of anticipation in so long—years, maybe. As she crested the hill, the track came into view, the floodlights illuminating the karts zooming around the circuit. Laughter and shouts echoed in the night, and there, standing by the fence again, was Max.
He hadn’t seen her yet, but something about the sight of him—so at ease, so comfortable in this world—made her heart race. For a moment, she stood still, wondering if this was a terrible idea. But then Max turned his head and spotted her. His face lit up immediately, and before she could second-guess herself, he was walking toward her.
“You came back,” he said, his voice filled with genuine warmth and a hint of surprise.
Before she could respond, Max pulled her into a quick, unexpected hug. It caught her off guard, but the gesture was so natural, so friendly, that she relaxed into it. It wasn’t formal or calculated like the stiff embraces she was used to. It was warm, real, and surprisingly grounding.
“I’m glad you came,” Max said as he pulled back, his smile still wide. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”
She smiled, a little breathless from his easy affection. “I wasn’t sure either,” she admitted, though a part of her had known she would return the moment she’d left the night before.
Max gave a playful shake of his head, as if amused by her uncertainty. “Well, you’re here now, so I’ve got something for you.”
“For me?” She blinked, confused.
Without a word, Max walked over to a nearby bench where his gear was piled, rummaging through the bag until he pulled out a sleek black helmet. It gleamed under the track lights, the design simple but stylish. He turned and handed it to her, a grin tugging at his lips.
“For next time,” he said. “Consider it a welcome-back gift.”
She stared at the helmet, her fingers brushing over its surface. It felt substantial in her hands, the weight of it unexpected. “This is... for me?”
“Yeah,” Max nodded, his expression softening. “I thought you might like your own, since it seems like you’re gonna be coming back more often.” He paused, glancing at her. “Unless you’re planning to disappear?”
She felt warmth rise in her chest. The idea that Max had thought about her after last night—enough to get her a gift—was strangely touching. She didn’t know what to say at first, only that her heart was doing a strange, excited dance in her chest.
“No disappearing,” she said with a small smile. “At least, not yet.”
Max’s grin widened. “Good. Because I think you’re a natural at this. You belong out here.”
The words struck something deep inside her. Belong. She wasn’t sure where she belonged anymore, but for the first time, standing here with Max, holding a helmet meant just for her, she felt a flicker of that feeling—like maybe she did belong somewhere outside the palace walls.
She turned the helmet over in her hands, then looked up at him. “Thank you. Really.”
Max shrugged, the gesture so casual it made her smile. “It’s just a helmet. But hey, now you’ll have no excuse to not race me next time.”
The princess laughed softly, shaking her head. “I think you’d have a pretty big advantage.”
Max winked. “Maybe. But who knows, you might surprise me.”
They stood there for a moment, the sound of engines and laughter filling the space between them. She clutched the helmet a little tighter, feeling the pull to stay here with him, to keep being this version of herself. But she knew she couldn’t stay long—not tonight. There would be questions if anyone realised she hadn’t been in her room all evening.
She stared at the helmet in her hands, her fingers tracing the smooth curve of the visor. Something about the gesture—Max giving her something that was entirely hers, something from this world—made her feel bolder than before. Maybe it was the way he had smiled at her, or the fact that she didn’t have to be anyone other than herself around him. Whatever it was, a playful spark ignited inside her.
She looked up at Max, who was watching her with that easy grin, clearly amused by the way she was studying the helmet. Without thinking too much about it, she raised her chin and asked, “How about that race, then?”
Max blinked, surprised, then his grin widened. “You serious?”
She shrugged, her smile growing. “Why not? You said I’m a natural, right?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t mean that natural,” he said, laughing softly. “You sure you’re ready to take me on?”
The challenge in his voice only fueled her. She had tasted the thrill of the track last night, and now, with the helmet in her hands, the idea of racing Max—even if she was far from a professional—was too tempting to resist.
“I’m sure,” she said firmly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Unless you’re scared you’ll lose.”
Max chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, princess,” he teased, the nickname rolling off his tongue in a playful, light-hearted way that made her grin. He didn’t know how close to the truth that was. And while it would usually make her panic, it was clear he didn’t know who she was. “Let’s do it.”
She felt a rush of adrenaline as she followed him over to the karts. Max helped her adjust the helmet and get settled in the driver’s seat. The moment she gripped the steering wheel, that same electric thrill from last night returned, only now, it was heightened by the fact that she was about to race him.
Max hopped into his kart, giving her a wink from across the track. “Alright,” he called, his voice muffled by his own helmet, “just remember, it’s all about control, not speed. Don’t push it too hard.”
She nodded, her heart pounding as the engines roared to life around them. The buzz of excitement in the air was contagious, and she found herself gripping the wheel tighter, anticipation humming through her veins.
“Ready?” Max shouted over the noise.
“Ready!” she called back, her voice filled with a mix of nerves and excitement.
With a sharp rev of the engine, they were off.
The first few moments were a blur of motion and sound. She felt the kart lurch forward, the wind whipping against her as she sped down the track. Her nerves spiked, but she quickly remembered Max’s words—control, not speed. She focused on keeping steady, her hands firm on the wheel as she navigated the turns.
Max was ahead, of course, but she could see him glancing over his shoulder, slowing down just enough to let her keep pace. She knew he was going easy on her, but she didn’t mind. The thrill of racing him—of racing anyone—was more than enough to make her feel like she was flying.
The world around her blurred into a mix of bright lights and the roar of engines. For the second time in her life, she wasn’t thinking about the palace, her duties, or the expectations that constantly weighed her down. It was just her, the kart, the track, and the rush of adrenaline surging through her veins.
Max pulled ahead slightly as they rounded a sharp corner, but she was right behind him, her competitive spirit kicking in. She leaned into the turn, feeling the kart respond beneath her, and for a brief moment, she let herself push just a little harder.
She caught up with him, and when he looked back, his eyes met hers through their visors. There was a flicker of something—surprise, maybe, or pride. He grinned, then slowed again, letting her pass him just before they hit the final straightaway.
She laughed, the sound muffled by her helmet but still filled with pure, unfiltered joy. She knew he was letting her win, but the thrill of it was real, and she couldn’t help but feel a burst of pride as she crossed the makeshift finish line.
She slowed to a stop, pulling off the steering wheel as she’d seen Max do, her laughter bubbled over. Max pulled up beside her, his own helmet off, his face lit up with a grin.
“Well, look at you,” he said, hopping out of his kart and walking over to her. “You actually made me work for it.”
She climbed out, still catching her breath, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “You’re lying. You let me win.”
Max shrugged, clearly not about to deny it. “Maybe I did,” he said, smirking. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you were pretty good out there.”
She beamed at the compliment, still riding the high of the race. “That was amazing. I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
Max leaned back against the fence, watching her with an easy smile. “Yeah, it’s a rush. You looked like you were having the time of your life.”
“I was,” she admitted, her voice softer now. She hadn’t felt this free, this alive, in... well, she couldn’t even remember. “I really was.”
Max’s expression shifted slightly, his eyes studying her for a moment, as if he could sense there was more beneath her words. But he didn’t push. Instead, he smiled and got close to her, pulling up her visor so he could see her eyes better.
She laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”
“We’ll see.” He winked, leaning back on the kart again, clearly in no rush to leave. “So, you coming back tomorrow?”
Her heart skipped at the idea. “Maybe,” she said, feeling the tug of responsibility from the palace, but also the undeniable pull to return here—to this track, to Max, and to the freedom she had only just started to discover.
“I’ll be here,” Max said, giving her that same playful smile as the night before. “Same time, same place.”
She smiled, feeling lighter than she had in years. “I’ll think about it.”
As they stood there, the night air cool against her skin, she felt something shift inside her. For the first time in a long time, she had something to look forward to—something that wasn’t bound by duty or expectation. She had this—this world, this track, this chance to be someone else, even if just for a little while.
And as she walked away, the helmet tucked under her arm, she knew she’d be back. How could she not?
Her pulse was still racing as she slipped through the gap in the stable wall, her heart light with the thrill of the night’s race. The cold night air stung her cheeks, but she didn’t mind. She hadn’t felt this alive in years—her mind still buzzing with the memory of the wind whipping past her as she sped around the track, Max’s teasing grin as he let her take the lead, and the helmet now tucked securely under her arm.
She quietly crossed the stable yard, the moon casting long shadows over the cobblestones. The palace was still, its lights dimmed, as if it, too, was resting from its heavy burdens. She let out a breath of relief, thinking she’d made it back undetected.
But as she rounded the last corner towards the servant’s door leading into the palace, a figure stepped out of the shadows.
She froze, her heart plummeting to her stomach.
“Princess,” came a low voice, steady and unmistakable.
Her personal guard, Lukas, stood there with his arms crossed, his expression stern but not angry. The tall man’s silhouette was familiar—broad-shouldered, dressed in his midnight-blue uniform, with the polished silver crest of the royal family gleaming faintly in the moonlight. He had been her personal protector for years, and though he had always been professional, there was a softer side to Lukas that she had come to trust.
She swallowed hard, her mind racing for an excuse. She hadn’t expected to run into anyone, much less Lukas. She opened her mouth to say something, but her words stuck in her throat.
Lukas stepped forward, his sharp gaze landing on the helmet tucked under her arm. His brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment, she feared he might drag her straight to the King and Queen.
Instead, he sighed, shaking his head slightly as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Out racing, were we?” His voice was quiet, but there was no mistaking the disapproval in his tone.
She winced, shifting uncomfortably. “I... I just needed to get out for a while,” she admitted, her voice small, but she couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at her lips. Even now, standing in front of Lukas, knowing she was about to get a lecture, she couldn’t help but feel a lingering joy from the night.
Lukas’s sharp eyes softened as he took in her expression—the light in her eyes, the flush on her cheeks. He sighed again, longer this time, and his shoulders relaxed just a fraction.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Your Highness,” he muttered, glancing around to make sure no one else was nearby. Then he looked back at her, his tone a little gentler. “You can’t keep sneaking out like this. It’s dangerous. If the King or Queen found out...”
She bit her lip, feeling the weight of his words, but the exhilaration of the night was still thrumming beneath her skin. “I know, Lukas,” she said softly, her smile faltering for the first time. “But... just for a little while, I needed to be something other than...” She trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence, but Lukas understood.
“Other than the princess,” he finished for her, his tone quieter now.
She nodded, her eyes dropping to the helmet in her arms. “I just... It felt so good. No one recognised me. No expectations. I was just... me.”
Lukas studied her for a long moment, his stern expression softening further. He had been by her side long enough to understand how heavy the crown weighed on her, even though she wasn’t Queen yet. He saw it in the way she carried herself, always poised, always controlled. But now, standing here in the moonlight, he saw something else—something he hadn’t seen in her for a long time. Happiness.
Another sigh escaped his lips, and this time it was more resigned. Without a word, he reached out and gently took the helmet from her arms. She watched, surprised, as Lukas examined it for a moment, running his thumb over the smooth surface. Then he looked up at her, his voice firm but not unkind.
“I’ll cover for you tonight,” he said quietly. “If anyone asks, you’ve been in your room since before dinner. But,” he added, fixing her with a pointed look, “you absolutely cannot sneak out again. Not this week, not ever—not like this. It’s too risky. Do you understand?”
Her heart swelled with a mixture of relief and guilt. She had expected anger, a stern reprimand, maybe even being dragged straight to her parents. But Lukas’s understanding, his willingness to protect her, caught her off guard.
“I understand,” she said softly, grateful. “Thank you, Lukas. I— I’m sorry.”
Lukas’s expression softened even more, and he gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I’ve watched you grow up. I know what this life asks of you. But you need to be careful, princess. You can’t take these kinds of risks.”
She nodded, her throat tight. “I won’t. I promise.”
For a moment, they stood in silence, the tension between them easing. Then Lukas glanced down at the helmet again, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You’re getting into some interesting hobbies, Your Highness. Kart racing, huh?”
She grinned, a small laugh escaping her. “It’s... different,” she admitted. “But I love it.”
“I can see that,” Lukas said with a rare hint of amusement in his voice. “Just—if you’re going to be tearing around tracks at night, maybe let me know first. That way I won’t have to worry about losing you to some street racer.”
Her eyes widened, her heart skipping at the thought of Lukas discovering who she had been racing with. She quickly shook her head, laughing nervously. “No street racers,” she said. “Just... fun.”
Lukas gave her a knowing look, but he didn’t push. Instead, he held up the helmet and gestured toward the stable door. “Go on. Get inside before someone else spots you.”
She nodded, stepping past him, but before she could go, Lukas added, “I’ll keep this for now,” referring to the helmet in his hand. “Safer that way. I’ll give it back to you when it’s... less suspicious.”
She smiled, grateful. “Thank you, Lukas.”
Lukas just gave a small nod, watching as she slipped through the door into the palace, her heart still pounding with the remnants of the night’s excitement.
As she quietly made her way back to her room, she couldn’t help but smile. She had managed to keep her secret—thanks to Lukas—and despite the risks, she didn’t regret a moment of it. The track, Max, the rush of the race—it was all worth it.
But she knew Lukas was right. She couldn’t keep sneaking out like this. Not without being more careful. Yet even as she crawled into bed, the memory of the night’s freedom stayed with her, lingering like the glow of the moon outside her window.And as her eyes drifted closed, a small, rebellious thought crossed her mind: Maybe just one more race.
part two
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