#and the inside person can still appreciate life

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Behind the Mask

Oscar Piastri finds himself drawn to a dancer trapped in a life she never chose. Can he uncover her secrets before it’s too late?

whoo it’s been ages since I wrote something that wasn’t a request welcome to behind the mask, please note that this work has some triggering content please be aware that the reader works with men who don’t nearly care about women. let me know if I should dwell further into this. as always comments are appreciated

Oscar Piastri had never felt so alive. The adrenaline of his first Formula 1 win still coursed through his veins, his heart still thundering with the aftershock of the victory. The celebration had been wild, loud, and overflowing with champagne, but now, the roar of the crowd had died down, replaced with the much quieter hum of a small, nondescript bar. He could still feel the weight of the race in his chest, but he needed a place to relax a place to breathe without the cameras and the pressure.

Lando Norris had led the charge to this dimly lit dive. It was tucked away on a quiet street, the kind of place that didn’t show up in any glossy magazines or trendy guides, but it had an air of familiarity—like a hideout for people who wanted to escape their own lives for just a moment. Oscar wasn’t looking for anything more than a break from the world, but what he didn’t expect was to be drawn into the world of someone else.

The bar had a dingy charm to it. The walls were painted in fading shades of burgundy, the leather booths cracked and weathered. The scent of stale alcohol lingered in the air, and the low hum of electronic music thudded from the speakers. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was real—a place where you came to forget, if only for a night.

Oscar leaned against the worn wooden bar, talking to Lando and the rest of the team as they celebrated, but something on the stage caught his eye. A dancer. She moved gracefully, but the fluidity of her motions didn’t match the unease he saw in her eyes. She was beautiful there was no denying that but something about the performance felt off. Oscar couldn’t put his finger on it at first, but it was clear she wasn’t there because she wanted to be.

She was there because she had no choice.

Oscar’s gaze stayed locked on her, his mind racing. Every step she took, every spin she executed, was perfect in form, but there was an underlying stiffness, a tension that tainted her every movement. It wasn’t the normal control that came with performance. This was the kind of stiffness that came from fear, from the weight of being trapped. She was performing for an audience, but there was nothing alive in her movements. There was nothing free about her.

She smiled,her lips stretched wide but her eyes her eyes told a different story. Oscar could see it clearly now. The smile was practiced, rehearsed a mask to hide the deep discomfort beneath. She wasn’t performing for the love of dancing. She was performing because it was expected of her. Because she had no other choice. The smile she wore, no matter how perfect, didn’t reach her eyes. It never did.

Their eyes locked for a split second, and in that moment, Oscar felt something strange stir inside him a sudden, intense recognition. She was trapped. It was more than just the rigidness of her body, more than just the exhaustion written across her face. It was the way she held herself, the way she looked at him, like she was begging for someone to see through the facade.

Her eyes flicked away almost immediately, but that brief moment was enough. Oscar couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t just a dancer. She was a person one who was being suffocated by something much larger than herself.

The bar owner caught his eye from across the room, his cold, predatory gaze sweeping over the dancer. Oscar could feel the man’s disdain even from this distance. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a face that looked permanently etched in anger, as if life had dealt him a raw hand that he wasn’t willing to take with grace. His eyes flicked back to the dancer, then to the rest of the room. Oscar’s stomach tightened when he saw the bar owner move toward the stage, his step purposeful, like a man accustomed to getting what he wanted.

The woman didn’t see him coming at first. She was adjusting her outfit, the final moments of her routine drawing to a close, but Oscar could see her visibly tense the moment he laid eyes on her. She stiffened like a deer in the headlights.

Oscar’s heart dropped into his stomach as the man reached her, his hand grabbing her wrist with a force that was almost bruising. The way he jerked her toward him was unmistakable. The woman barely flinched at his roughness, as if she had become accustomed to this treatment, like a puppet whose strings were pulled at the whims of the bar owner. He barked orders at her, words Oscar couldn’t hear but could imagine from the way the woman’s posture wilted, her head lowered in submission.

She didn’t speak back. She didn’t try to fight him. She simply let him move her, like she was just another object to be used.

Oscar could see it in the way her shoulders slumped as she walked to the back of the bar. The mask had slipped, and in that brief moment of interaction, Oscar saw her as she truly was: worn down, defeated, invisible. He didn’t know what was worse—the way she moved under the bar owner’s grip or the fact that she had learned to accept it.

The constant hum of the bar, the clinking of glasses, the loud chatter—none of it ever drowned out the noise in her head. It was a noise that she couldn’t escape, a constant reminder that she was stuck in this miserable routine, trapped in a life she had never wanted.

She had never dreamed of becoming a bar dancer. When she was a little girl, her passion had been ballet. The elegant flow of her movements, the perfect pirouettes, the thrill of performing on a stage that made her feel alive. But life had other plans.

She had been forced to leave ballet when funding dried up, leaving her with nothing but mounting debts to keep her awake at night. The dream she had held onto so tightly slipped through her fingers, just like the grip of the reality she now faced. So, when she had found herself desperate, clinging to the edges of survival, this grimy bar had been the only place willing to offer her a paycheck. And it was the kind of paycheck that was just enough to keep the bill collectors at bay, to keep her from losing the dingy apartment she called home.

The apartment wasn’t much. It was small, cramped, and constantly smelled of mildew. The building had seen better days—leaking pipes, cracked windows, thin walls that allowed the sounds of the street to bleed through. It wasn’t safe. She had learned the hard way that the people who lived there were as desperate as she was. Creeps loitered in the hallways, knocking on her door at all hours of the night, offering money in exchange for favors.

Some nights, she didn’t even feel safe in her own bed.

But here, in this bar, the situation was no different. The patrons leered, their eyes stripping her down in ways she couldn’t escape. She had learned to ignore them, to pretend they weren’t there, but she could feel the weight of their stares, could hear their whispers when they thought she wasn’t listening. She was nothing more than a commodity to them—a distraction. Something to look at while they sipped their overpriced drinks.

And the bar owner? He was the worst of them all. He wasn’t a man who saw her as a person. He didn’t care about her safety, her well-being, or her happiness. She was a tool to him. An object for his gain.

The way he treated her, the way he grabbed her arm without care, pulling her around like she was a piece of furniture—she had learned to accept it. She had learned to swallow the bile that rose in her throat whenever he touched her, to ignore the sick feeling that came when he ordered her around. She had to, because if she didn’t, he’d make it worse.

And sometimes, in the quiet moments when she was alone in the back room, she wondered if she’d ever make it out. If she’d ever find a way to escape this life.

But it wasn’t as simple as walking away. Not when the rent was due. Not when the debts kept piling up. And not when she had nowhere else to go.

Oscar watched in disgust as the bar owner jerked the woman toward the back, his fingers digging into her wrist with a force that could bruise bone. His stomach churned with fury, the sight of the woman’s limp compliance making him want to lunge forward and stop it, to confront the man who dared treat her like this.

It was too much.

He clenched his fists so tight his knuckles turned white, the anger rising in his chest like a tidal wave. No one should treat another person like this. Oscar had seen his fair share of arrogance, greed, and power plays, but this—this was different. This was cruel. She was not a toy for someone to throw around.

Lando and the others were too busy making crude jokes about the situation to notice the gravity of it. “Look at Piastri, mate. Finally found something more interesting than the podium,” one of them snickered.

“Oi, you reckon she’s got any tricks in her?” another joked, nudging Oscar as if it were all some game.

Oscar’s jaw tightened. “She’s not just a stripper,” he spat back, his voice low and sharp, filled with a sudden fury that startled even him. He glared at them, disgust crawling across his face. “You don’t get it.”

But they didn’t stop.

“Mate, she’s nothing special. Just another one of those girls.”

Oscar watched her disappear into the back of the bar, his jaw clenched, as the crude laughter of his teammates echoed around him.

They didn’t understand, but he would.

He would come back, figure out who she really was, and he wouldn’t rest until he did.

[giuliettagaltieri]

A Very Bad Day

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Everything burns right before the eyes of Charles Leclerc.

Warning: Swearing and intoxication

Word Count: 2996

1 of ?

Charles Leclerc couldn’t quite grasp how his life could turn a total 180 in the last 24 hours.  Over the phone, his girlfriend broke up with him.  Ferrari decided to void the contract after he got drunk at some bar.  And now, he has no idea where he is as he hops on one leg, trying to get the other foot inside his pants as he runs away from a hysterical woman he didn’t know.

And to put the cherry on top, his foot got caught on a table and he came plummeting down on the hardwood.

“Ah fuck.”

Yesterday started like any other day.  Nothing conspicuous about it.  Charles woke up in his apartment in Monaco.  His still droopy eyes stare out at the busy streets and tall buildings of Monte Carlo.  Charles scratches his hip, yawning.

Excited barks soon echoed around the room and he didn’t even need to look to know who it was.  His lips quirk to a smile.  “Morning to you too, pal.”  The goofy dog kept his owner’s attention for the next five minutes before Charles had to have his breakfast.

The man was simply trying not to burn his sunny side up eggs when he got a call from Alexandra.  Charles smiles, which quickly disappears as he tries to avoid a splatter of oil.  

“Charles?”

He inhales deeply.  “Since when was I Charles to you? I’m caro-”

“I’m so sorry, I can’t just do this anymore.”  Alexandra sobs from the other line.

Charles scratches his head.  “What, you want to find another petname?”  He chuckles awkwardly.

“I just…I want you to understand that it’s not you, okay?”

Damn.

Well, this is it.  He thought.

“You breaking up with me or something?”  Charles mumbles as he switches off the stove when the bottom of the egg starts burning.  Alexandra sobs again from the other line.  “You could’ve done it in person, you know.  Like how a decent person should.”

Alexandra was silent and Charles used the spatula to try and salvage the egg which stuck to the pan, its burnt stench made Charles step back and sit on the chair.  He runs a hand over his face.

“Hello.”

“Listen.”  Her voice is much stable this time, making Charles think if she really had been crying thirty seconds ago.  “I really can’t see any future in this relationship.  We should start seeing other people.”

Charles starts swinging the spatula lazily, his eyes now drained.  “Well, I can’t exactly stop you if that’s what you want.”

“Thank you, Charles.”  Alexandra responds a little softly this time, fooling him for a second that this was just another phonecall they have everyday.  Or was it every week?  Charles can’t remember as their relationship has been getting more dull and dull.  “I’m really sorry.  I tried to resist him for months but you just can’t…give me the love that I want and I want to end it between us before I start another relationship.”

So there is another man.  Charles nods somberly, forgetting that Alexandra can’t see him.  “Yes.  Thank you for being honest…you sure he’s a good man?”  Despite his relationship with Alexandra losing its flame, she was still his girlfriend once.

He hears the smile in Alexandra’s voice.  “He is really kind.  He has a daughter whom I love very much.”

“Yeah?”  Charles tries to sound cheerful for her sake, his eyes following the slow drip of the oil from the head of the spatula.

“Yeah!  He can be really busy with his mining company so I get to spend time with her a lot.”

“Good for you.”  His jaw ticks.  “I don’t appreciate you spending time with him while we were still together but I’m glad you broke up with me before you started dating the man.”

Alexandra sighs gratefully from the other line.  “Thanks, Charles.  I knew you’d understand.  What we had, it was good…but it was not going anywhere.  I’ll still come to watch you race though, see you around.”

Charles thinks it is better if she didn’t.  Leo paws at his leg but Charles can’t bother to do anything but scratch behind his ears sluggishly.  

What kind of person breaks up over the phone?  He was so good to her too, getting her anything a girlfriend could want.  Charles was a busy guy but he tried to make it work with her, spending time with her anytime he could.

This wasn’t how he planned his Saturday to start at all.  Charles can already think of the headlines surfacing in the internet soon.

His PR team would kill him.

Well, it’s not entirely his fault.  They can’t pin this on him.

Although the next thing that would happen that day would totally be his fault.

Charles really tried to keep the whole drinking and getting wasted part in his own apartment but the half empty bottles he kept stocked on his mini bar weren’t doing their job.  So he went with the next best thing.  Go get hammered in a bar.

He could have sworn he only had a few glasses.  How was he supposed to know the alcohol content in those drinks were beyond the roof?  That’s what he gets for ordering drinks he has never heard before in his entire life.

It couldn’t have been Alexandra that caused this much of an impact on Charles that he’d go out his way and get shitfaced in some bar where anybody with a phone could post him on social media.  He gulps down his drink, giving up on the puzzle he had no intentions in solving in the first place.

The bar was getting too cramped and Charles felt like he was fighting for every gulp of air.  He had to get out.  Which was a bad idea.  He could barely hold up his own weight, let alone walk.  Charles was stumbling to every person that passed by him in the busy streets of Monaco, he’s yet to be recognized thanks to his cap but he knows this won’t end well.

Next thing he knows, he is being thrown inside a car, the absence of street lights blinding him, the sudden change in colors disorienting him.  Loud voices of people he should know echo around the cramped car.  Someone he recognizes from his PR team is beside him, there’s another one in the passenger seat, trying to talk to him, trying to get his attention but Charles can’t peel his eyes off the floor.  He’s sobering up bit by bit now.  He hears his name being called over and over but he doesn’t respond, not even when somebody holds him by his collar.  

Questions are thrown his way and he can’t even process a single one before another is being thrown at him again.  They keep asking what has gotten into him.  What happened between him and Alexandra that she had to reveal publicly that their relationship was over.  They have no business in prying in that matter.  They repeatedly fume that he could have been arrested for public intoxication had they not gotten there on time.

The car comes to an abrupt halt, sending him forward.  Hands grip him under his armpits and he’s being forced out of the car and on his feet.  Charles doesn’t even know if it’s him making the steps or he’s simply being dragged.  He’s made to sit on the couch and he recognizes his own apartment.  He sees Leo growling at the people who invaded his home.  Charles hunches on the couch, his hands raking on his hair.

Was he stupid?

He is a Formula 1 driver for goodness sake!

It wasn’t easy to deduce that this would harm his career.  A blotch on his record.  Forever known as the Formula 1 driver who was intoxicated in the streets of Monaco, and it was barely even evening!  A fucking embarrassment is what he is.

A loud ringtone echoes and he hears the brief exchange of words.  A phone was then shoved in his hands and he brought it up to his ears.

Charles was used to hearing the calm and humorous voice of Frédéric Vasseur, never like this.

He knew he fucked up.

And like how Alexandra snipped whatever they had, Vasseur did the same to his contract with Ferrari.

“I am very disappointed in you, boy.  I’m afraid Ferrari will have to let you go.”

This is rockbottom.

Charles wordlessly hands the phone back and it’s replaced with his car keys.  For a moment he just stares at the dark stallion.  He hears them saying that someone picked it up from the bar for him.  

I’m fucking stupid.

Charles grips the key so hard it threatens to dig through his palms.  He gets up and heads to the direction of the door.  They call his name over and over but he just cannot deal with them at the moment.

“Get Leo to my mom.  I’m stepping out for a bit.”

He finds his car in the parking space and immediately gets in it.  Just like that, he threw his career under the bus.  What other team would want him to race for them, after this incident, he’d be lucky if some team with shit cars even looks at him.

For years, he built his name, trying to make those he loved proud, only for it all to unravel before his eyes in a single day. 

He needs to get out of here.

The engine roars as he speeds away from his place, going somewhere and nowhere in particular.

The city lights of Monte Carlo were a blur as he sped through.

Charles is never really one to run away from his problems, but there’s nothing here for him, is there?

The girl he trusted to be by his side went and broke up with him.  Their relationship lost its spark long before this day but Charles thought they were stable.  He was blinded with the comfort brought on by the convenience.  He drank not for losing her but for self-pity, which made him two times more horrible.  Charles would just love to blame anybody but himself right about now.  One stupid decision cost him his deal with Ferrari.

They had a fucking contract.  He was going to race for them for the next season, goddammit.

Charles pulls at his glovebox and sees his passport.

He drove to the airport of Monaco and hastily parked his car and gathered his stuff from the glove compartment.  For a moment his hands hovered over his phone yet he hesitates before deliberately leaving it.

He will deal with this later.  He just needs to get out.  Cold sweat was breaking out in his temple when he entered the air conditioned airport.  Charles pulls his hat down after security, feeling like everybody is looking at him.  His heartbeat accelerates and his breathing visibly picks up.  He’s going to be sick if he stays here a moment longer.

“Ticket to LA, please.”  Charles breathlessly said.

The ticket agent glances at him worriedly, familiarity clearly crossing her eyes.  “Sir, are you okay?  Do you need to sit down?”

Charles quickly shakes his head, giving her a forced grin.  “I’m fine.  I just need the ticket to LA.”

The woman types in her computer and her face becomes apologetic, making Charles grit his teeth.  “The plane just left.  The next flight is in six hours.”

“Shit.”  Charles runs a hand through his face.  “Uh…what about Las Vegas?”

“Next flight’s in eight hours-”

“JUST-…”  He inhales sharply.  “Just tell me which flight leaves now.”

The woman’s lips turned thin at his outburst but she chooses not to comment.

“Well, a flight to New York leaves in an hour.”

“Okay, I’ll need a ticket.”

New York was probably not the best choice but he was in a rush to just get out as soon as he can.  LA and Vegas would have been preferable.  He had friends there, somewhere he can crash for a while as he waits for everything to blow over.

But as he stands there in New York, he looks at the bustle of people.  Nobody looked at him yet and for some reason it felt good to be ignored.  To not be a spectacle for once.  But he doubts it will last.  Charles adjusts his watch to the time and has his money changed to dollars so he can use it and he exits the airport.  

The warm, polluted air of New York slaps him in the face.  He got on a taxi and it drives him out of New York.  He was dropped off at a bar in some town where he got a few drinks.  He remembers glancing at his watch, a little past midnight.  Considering he crossed continents, he thought it would be much later than that. 

He repeated the process of riding a cab and stopping by a few places to eat and drink until he lost himself.  He was black out drunk.  Playing Dora the explorer was not on his bucket list for this year but he was stumbling on a sidewalk of some town he doesn’t recognize.  No landmarks or anything to help him.

He’d probably die from alcohol intoxication if he didn't stop drinking.  But the flashing neon light of the word ‘PUB’ in the corner just invites him over.  He opens the door and sees nobody inside but the old bartender, wiping glasses.  How fucking cliché, it made him chuckle.  He trudges to the counter and he frowns at the empty glasses, some still decorated with different colored liquid on the bottom.  Charles awkwardly pushes them to the side and sits on the bar stool as his eyes squint on the menu.  Aside from the typical hard drinks, he sees a variety of unfamiliar ones and decides to order a spiced apple cider from the hot section of the menu.

Alcohol was still running through his system like crazy, making the rush of his blood thrum.  He needed a warm drink to wake him up.

“Hey!”

Charles whips behind him.  A bad idea.  He grimaces and he clutches his head as the sudden movement makes the room spin.

“That’s my seat.”

He blinks hard and looks up to see a woman with red bold lips.  She was pissed by the looks of it.  But Charles knew that the flush on her cheeks was not because of her anger.  She hiccups and Charles grins.

“Yeah?  Sorry about that.”  He moves to the other stool, still watching.

“What are you smiling at?”  The woman glares at him before looking at the bartender who brings over his drink.  “Tom, I’ll have sour cherry vodka.”

“Young lady, you had eight drinks already, I think that might be enough for you.”  The old man chastises gently, an accent thick on his voice.   “It’s wee hours of the morning already.”

Charles grins behind his glass when she visibly deflates, lips pouting as she rests her flushed cheeks on her hand, hiccupping once more. 

“I’ll just have a hot buttered rum then.”

“It still has alcohol in it.”  Tom replies but starts preparing it for her anyway.  He brings over two glasses of water for them in the meantime.

Charles quietly sips on his drink, ignoring the glass of water.  The woman beside him sighs loudly, her finger tracing something on the fogged glass.

“You know.”  She starts as she straightens up in her seat before turning to him with bedroom eyes, making Charles gulp thickly.  “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“It’s my first time here.”  He says before sipping his drink again.

She smiles at him this time.  “You’re a tourist?”

He shrugs.  “Uhm, I guess you can say that.”

Tom places her drink on the counter and she thanks him without taking her eyes off of Charles.

“You a local here?”  Charles asks as his eyes follow how the glass presses on the plumpness of her lips.

She hiccups before giggling, as if he said something really funny to her.  “I think so but I just moved here three years ago for work.”

Just watching her giggle makes Charles chuckles too, he doesn’t know why but he just does.  He clears his throat to sip his drink once more.  Cheeks flushing slightly at the effect she has on him.

She gulps down her drink without pause and Charles follows how her throat moves.  When she places the glass down, she has a goofy grin on and Charles groans out a chuckle upon seeing her whipped cream moustache.

“You have something on your…here, let me get that for you.”  Charles leans closer and he cups her cheek and glides his thumb over her upper lip.  He stared into her wide glassy eyes the entire time.

He feels his skin buzzing, heating up under her gaze.

And he gives in to the pull.  Charles leans closer to plant his lips on hers.  She hiccups once more, making them both laugh but he deepens the kiss, enjoying the flavor of her on his tongue.

A sharp cough makes them part.

Charles glances at Tom the bartender and he sheepishly scratches his neck but she grabs his hand. 

“Uhm…you wanna…”

“Yes.”  Charles answers for her, pressing his lips on hers briefly before he clumsily pulls out his wallet to pay for their drink.  He turns to Tom.  “Is this enough?”

Tom sighs and shoos them away with his hand.  “Just get outta here you two.”

The woman laughs and thanks Tom before she pulls Charles out of the pub and as soon as they’re outside, he pulls her close to him, just needing to kiss her again.  She was like a breath of fresh air from all the craziness that took place today.

“Fuck.”  His hands roamed on her body, making her laugh.  “I need you, baby.”

At this point Charles is just willing to throw everything out the window if it meant having her.

Overdrive

[eph3merall]

hii, i was wondering if you could make something like this: reader is going through a lot mentally, she is mostly close to chris but they are all bestfriends!! i just want something fluff-like, chris nothing her getting more distant and helping reader organize her thoughts and etc

tysm if you do! :)

an. u guys are fluff fans i see... slight mention of suicide in this one. no one dies.

you pick at the stray threads on your old, worn out blanket. even with your door shut tight and some music playing from the speaker on your desk, the sounds of the party still filter through. it makes the ongoing headache you have just get worse and worse, the pounding and throbbing making you feel dizzy.

somehow, you still feel the thumping rhythm of the music downstairs vibrating the floor and effectively making things in your room shake gently. a few books have already clattered to the ground that you didn't have a mind to pick up, leaning back to hopefully try and relax better. your head hit a few pillows and you sigh, hands resting on your stomach over your clothes—noting the way it rises and falls softly with each deep breath you take

meanwhile, chris is rasping his knuckles on your door a few times. blinking at the ceiling, you reluctantly shift up and step through the mess of your floor to crack the door open. when a glimpse of long brown hair and a black fresh love hoodie meets your eyes, you tug the door open more to come face to face with chris.

"hi."

"hey," his voice is a little breathless and you can't help but note the way he's staring at you. like he knows your secrets and is aware of everything thats been going on with you. and maybe he does—chris is your best friend for a reason. it's terribly hard to keep anything from the guy, especially with how close you two are.

stepping out of the way to let him stalk inside, you shut the door behind him and click on a lamp—casting the cluttered space with a warm yellow glow. you pause your own music, wincing when everything from downstairs comes rushing back ten times harder now that there was nothing drowning it out.

chris immediately situates himself on your bed, watching carefully as you settle down next to him hesitantly. you hear him 'tsk' after a few seconds, and his voice suddenly fills the room. the air is a little stuffy and tense, and you aren't completely sure why.

"im not, like, gonna beat around the bush with this. is something up w'you? like, you've been distant and it would literally take a stupid person to not realize. if something's going on, y'know you can always tell me that," his brows furrow and face screws up softly in gentle frustration, because all chris wanted was for you to feel happy. he knows it's been a rough patch in life for you, and the last thing he wants is to accidentally miss a sign and suddenly, you're no longer alive.

he wouldnt be able to bare it, the guilt and constant pain he knows he would feel. despite knowing it wouldn't be his fault, he knows the guilt would practically eat him alive. a warm hand slides into yours as he notices you not responding, lips parted hesitantly like you wanted to speak up but your body just didn't allow you to do so. chris' warm palm slots into yours and squeezes lightly, and you do the same gently to reciprocate.

"i appreciate that. i do.. and i'm okay. it's just like, my mind is a mess, and i don't know how to deal with that," your eyes flick away from chris' piercing gaze halfway through your sentence, settling on staring at the floor or focusing your attention anywhere else. out of the corner of your eye, you see chris slowly nod his head and you take a deep breath in and out.

the bed creaks under him as he scoots closer, groaning under the sudden shift of weight. an arm loops around your shoulders and you cant help the laugh that escapes when he ruffles his hand into your hair, pulling you to his side with giggles and grins.

"cool, cool, okay. don't gotta act all sad n'shit anymore kid, i'll help," and you have your doubts. its not like you're saying chris created every problem on earth, but his solutions to things dont always work out. but hes your best friend, and the loud laughter he makes as you giggle when he tickles you softly has you practically wanting to trust him on this. and, then again, this wasn't the first time something like this has happened.

from experience, chris knows you wont want to open up to him directly about your feelings. you wont say whats on your mind just so straightforward, usually trying to play it off as something thats not so important when it definitely is. so he doesnt try to pry your brain open to figure out what was wrong, only understanding that you need a way to sort out your thoughts.

so he walks you through it. but it isnt like this is some therapy session, chris cracks jokes from some of the things you say that make a giggle rise from you, your lips pursing together to try and hide the smile you know is painted on your face. you were never one to enjoy therapy, the space always feeling stuffy and like every single word was being analyzed no matter what.

chris makes you do breathing exercises, which the both of you can barely sit through because of the snickers you and chris make after some stupid face he pulled. all in all.. it works. he said he would help, and he did. you dont feel like a mess, like every word you think is jumbled together anymore—your brain having significantly more free space than you started out with, which was what you were aiming for.

"see? s'all better, right?" chris runs his hand through the waves of hair that have fallen into his face, pulling you into a hug while you were in the middle of nodding. his embrace is warm, and you wrap your own arms around his shoulders gently. you tug back a little, only to laugh and squeal when chris pulls you in harder and you fall against his chest.

eventually letting up, he grins brightly and your heart melts a little. you arent sure what you've done to deserve the ray of sunshine that is your best friend. his hands reach up to cup your face and he quickly presses a kiss to your forehead, sitting up and grasping your hand to tug you to your feet.

"y'feelin better now, yeah? wanna head down there n'we can go bother matt by beating him in beer pong."

—

@conspiracy-ash @sturniolosfavkayleigh @lvrsturniolo @st7rnioioss @meatballlover10 @ashlishes @ferdzom @55sturn @chriseatingmeoutin4k @unknvhx @mattslolita @chaossturns @slut4brunettes @starclinexo @slvtf0rchr1s @itsmaddielouis @slut4chris888

©eph3merall 2025

[keen-eye]

i see a lot of posts about how dean would want to crawl inside sam and live there forever but i’ve always felt the opposite would be true. that dean would want to keep sam inside him to protect him from the outside world, to know that nothing can ever touch him. dean would keep sam behind his ribcage, or inside his shirt pocket or a locket. sam would still be with dean at all times and he’d always know where sam is and that’s he’s safe (let’s ignore that sam actually wouldn’t be much safer inside dean because their lives are constantly in danger, but maybe dean wouldn’t be so reckless). and dean wouldn’t have to worry about sam making any decisions that could potentially harm himself, meaning no more arguments.

although it depends on the context. the above applies to the time when they can’t escape the hunting life, which is pretty much the entire show. once the burden of saving the world is no longer theirs i think dean would want to live inside sam. then sam could live a normal life (which both sam & dean want more than anything) and not feel guilty for leaving dean (dean’s worst nightmare). because after being together their entire lives dean is the one who couldn’t bear separation the most.

dean would be happy and never have to miss a moment of sam’s life again, and sam wouldn’t have to experience dean’s death. i don’t believe that dean would ever be fully content quitting hunting for good, but now he wouldn’t have to die a warrior’s death which is the alternative. dean can enjoy his rest, then sam and dean’s souls ascend to heaven at the same time and dean doesn’t have to wait for him.

[hammill-goes-fogwalking]

sympathy for the outcasts <3

[wetbananapeel]

First gourd (and radish) I carved in my life 31 October 2019

[dunmeshistash]

One of the things I really appreciate about Dungeon Meshi is how the text is so clearly full of love for animals. Like the true kind of love Laios feels for the monster where he wants to know everything about them, but most of all he respects them and loves them as animals.

One of the chapters I can't stop thinking about is the one about Anne the Kelpie. It's kind of impressive how well it illustrates the different kind of love people have for animals. And how someone that loves an animal isn't necessarily an animal lover. If that makes sense.

When Senshi calls out Anne what he says is "Don't worry Anne's Harmless" but she isn't, she's a wild animal.

Marcille immediately reacts positively about it thinking it's cute she accepts the treat Senshi has for her. And hers and Chilchuck's reaction to Senshi wanting to cross the river on her back is more surprise while Laios immediately realizes how bad of an idea it is.

But Laios is the animal monster lover so how come when he finally is faced with a "docile" monster he doesn't react positively like the others? Marcille even calls him a monster. That's because Laios loves monsters, and Senshi loves Anne.

I've seen this attitude around me several times, where people love a specific animal but what they love is their idea of that animal, they don't really know them because they don't love the animal part of them.

It becomes a "this one is special because I love them" that can quickly become an issue for the animal as much as it is for the person. It's something unfortunate I see time and time again irl.

Anne wasn't wicked, Anne wasn't mean, Anne didn't trick him. Anne was a wild animal and Senshi loved her as Anne but not as a kelpie.

She acted on instinct, maybe she did love Senshi in the way kelpies can love, but animals are still animals and must be respected and treated as such. Climbing on top of Anne's back was the equivalent of putting your arm inside a alligator's mouth, the mouth is gonna close because that's what they're designed to do.

The real life equivalent I see the most of "I love this animal but I don't love the animal part of them" is with dogs. If you insist on loving an animal without acknowledging they ARE an animal they might hurt you, you might hurt them, it will only end in grief.

The best way you can love an animal is by understanding they're an animal.

That is all to say I don't mean that the love Senshi felt for Anne wasn't real or that it's all his fault. He couldn't have known with the information he had and unfortunately it came down to the worst outcome.

I just love dungeon meshi dearly.

[cheswirls]

no idea why ywr/iwf has gotten an influx of kudos over the past week but its been both a compliment and an irk tbh

[simpforboys]

Surprise! (3)

Drew Starkey x fem!singer!reader

Summary: reader and Drew celebrate the release of the ‘Perfume’ music video!

Warnings: fluff, smut, oral (f receiving), praise, swearing, male masturbation, dirty talk, missionary position, sex on couch, daddy kink, protective piv sex, boob worship (?), drinking wine, fangirling

Part one, part two, part four

taglist is full :(

Two weeks had went by.

Two long, busy weeks of you not hearing much from Drew, other than the promotions and photo stills you would send him.

It was finally the release day, and within 18 hours, the video had already reached 200 million views.

You were currently sitting on your light grey couch, flicking through Netflix movies when your phone buzzed with a notification.

Drew Starkey: Hey, congrats on the success of the video. I’m still very honored you wanted me to he apart of it. You still down to celebrate?

Oh.

In all honesty you were expecting Drew to stop talking to you after the shoot.

But within those two weeks, you were both extremely busy, so reaching out was hard.

That didn’t mean you two didn’t text at all, it was just two or three messages a day.

Drew was notorious for being a bad texter, not to mention how filled up his schedule was.

So you never took it to heart. Or, at least tried.

But seeing the notification that he actually still wanted to hang out, wanted to celebrate with you…

Your User: hi, thank you so much! i’m still so happy and grateful you said yes <33

Your User: and yes i’m still down to celebrate!! when are you free?

Maybe the double texting was too much, but you were already a glass of wine in, and texting your celebrity crush.

To your surprise, he replied pretty quickly.

Drew Starkey: I’m actually free rn surprisingly, are you?

Oh.

You were in fact free, but ready was the better question.

No, you were not ready to see Drew fucking Starkey, especially looking like how you were currently dressed.

Only wearing sweatpants, a shirt that is three sizes too big, fuzzy socks, and no bra was not exactly presentable to meet the love of your life.

Your User: yes, but i look absolutely horrible rn

Again, another quick response.

Drew Starkey: I doubt that. Can I come see you?

You typed out a message.

Your User: CNEOSHWOSHEODNEOWHSOWBSIFBEOSBAJDBDKDHOSBSKSBDJSHS😜✊👍😜🤭🔥🫶😩

That was what you really wanted to reply with, but instead went for something more nonchalant.

Your User: yeah, you want my address?

It was never good to share your address to anyone online, especially after only meeting in person twice.

But it was Drew Starkey. You would send anything to that man, no questions asked.

Drew Starkey: Yes please

You had spent the last 30 minutes frantically cleaning your apartment. Not that it was a complete mess, but you did want it to be cleaner than what it was.

A soft knock on your door was heard, heart pounding in your chest, hands shaking with nervousness.

Peeking through the peephole, seeing his familiar face was enough to make you almost back out.

Why did you have to be so fucking nervous? He was just a man.

Your fingers unlocked the door, opening it gently.

“Hey, Y/n.” Drew smiled warmly at you, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Hi… come on in.” You grinned back, trying to hide the feeling in your chest.

Drew’s long legs guide him inside the apartment and he takes a second to look around.

It was cozy, and definitely you.

“I got these f’you.” He hums, holding out the flowers.

“Oh, these are my favorite flowers, Drew… you didn’t have to do that.” You awed, taking the bouquet as he practically handed it to you.

He knew they were your favorite flowers. He might have looked up y/n l/n’s favorite flower onto Google. Not that he would ever admit that, though.

“Really? Damn, lucky pick, I guess.” He chuckled, scratching the side of his neck a little sheepishly.

Putting the flowers in a vase, you realized that he was wearing sweats and a hoodie. It was 10:23pm on a Friday, and clearly you two were appreciating a night off.

It made you feel better about your outfit.

“Do you want anything to eat or drink? I have white or red wine, beer, vodka, soda, water…” You trailed off your options.

“What’re you drinking?” He hummed.

You nodded over to the coffee table, an open bottle of wine with a half filled glass on it.

“Wine.”

“I’ll just have some of that, then.” Drew murmurs.

You grabbed another wine glass and walked over to the couch, hearing his feet behind you.

Sitting down on the couch, you got all comfortable underneath the blanket again, then reached over to pour him a glass of wine.

“Cheers, to the success of ‘Perfume’, and to you.” Drew says softly, holding his glass out for you to clink.

Feeling your face grow a bit warm, you tapped your glass with his.

“Cheers to you being amazing.” You took a sip of the wine, your eyes locked onto his blue ones.

“You have a nice apartment, by the way. Forgot to say that.” He hums.

“Thank you, I wanted to make it as cozy as possible for those rare times I am at home.” You explain.

"Yeah, I get that. Life nowadays is just so hectic." He agrees, blue eyes trailing over your face, as if committing each feature to memory.

"Well, yeah. You're all big and famous now," you tease.

He chuckles sheepishly, his large hand running along the back of his head.

"You have any big plans coming up?" He asked you.

"Yeah, actually. I'm supposed to be preforming at the iHeartRadio Jingle Ball festival in a week," you nod.

"Really? Damn. That beats me, then." He joked.

"What do you have coming up?" You questioned.

"Variety is going to have Harris Dickinson and I do that Actors on Actors interview thing."

"Yeah? That sounds fun," you hummed.

The two of you spent an hour and a half talking about life, success, and just got to know each other.

You both finished the bottle of wine and were now onto your second bottle, the two of you tipsy as you giggled on the couch.

Your body felt warm and you weren't completely sure if it was from the alcohol or the fact that a beautiful man was sitting a foot away from you on your own couch.

Drew felt the same, and one specific joke you made had him laughing a little too hard. His eyes creased in the corner as he smiled, those pretty dimples on display.

But when his large hand went to rest on your knee, the wine in your system completely fought off your anxiety, making you more relaxed.

You found yourself leaning into his touch, your hand resting atop of his.

"Your laugh is so cute, Drew," you murmured.

"Yeah? You're cute," he responded.

You bit your lip, eyes locked onto his. "Is that the alcohol talking or you?"

He grinned, shaking his head.

"That's me talking."

Oh.

"You're sweet..." you trailed off, trying to ignore how butterflies filled your belly.

He just hummed, a comfortable, tension-filled silence falling between you two.

"So, you really had a crush on me for four years?" He teased, squeezing your knee a little.

"Oh, god. We're back at this now, huh?" You grumbled in embarrassment, although there was no real malice behind your tone.

He smirked, licking his lips. "We never left it."

"I certainly did."

"Yeah? You don't have a crush on me anymore?" He murmured, the playful tone in his voice making your stomach turn more.

"I didn't say that...." you trailed off, picking at the extra skin near your nails.

His eyes trail over your form again, taking in every inch of you he can see that's not hidden by the blanket on your lap.

"Hm? Sorry, I didn't hear you."

You rolled your eyes, face hot. "I'm sure you didn't."

He laughed, scooting a little closer to you so your legs were touching.

"'m just fucking with you," he said softly.

"I know..." you glanced over at him, eyes instinctively falling down to his pretty lips.

It had been too long since you felt them on you.

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the boost of confidence Drew had gotten, but he slowly leaned in, his free hand going to run his index finger and thumb on your chin.

"Is this okay?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah... yes..." you breathed out shakily, heart racing.

He hummed, gently connecting your lips to his own.

Feeling that familiar, addictive spark when his skin touched yours. You immediately kissed back, your left hand going to cup his jaw.

Kissing. You were kissing Drew fucking Starkey. And it wasn't for work, wasn't for cameras. He kissed you first.

Within moments, he was laying you back on the light grey couch, the fluffy blanket being left abandoned on the floor.

His tongue was in your mouth, sculpted body hovering over yours. Your thighs were spread for him to nestle in between, left hand still cupping his strong jaw, right hand in that soft brown hair.

On instinct you pulled a little on the strands, making him grunt into your mouth. He disconnected your lips, trailing sloppy, needy kisses down your jaw and neck.

Chests pressed together, it was as if you two couldn't get any closer.

"Mhmm... Drew..." you whimpered softly when he nipped at the skin of your pulse point.

"Yeah? That feel nice, sweet girl?" He murmured, voice muffled from his attention on your neck.

You nodded, legs squeezing him in between your body.

"Can I take your shirt off, baby?" He asked, not wanting to do anything you weren't desiring.

"Please.." you breathed out, heart racing, stomach flipping.

His large hand slipped the oversized fabric off and over your head, a small whine leaving him when he saw your pretty tits.

"Fuck, Y/n... you been hiding these from me?" He mumbled teasingly, continuing his line of kisses and nibbles down your collarbone, in between the valley of your breasts.

"All you needed to do was ask," you panted. Your back instinctively arched up, your chest needing some attention from his warm mouth.

He groaned at your answer, moving slightly down your body until he was eye level with your hard nipples. He swirled his tongue around the bud, blue eyes locked on your face when he sucked your nipple into his mouth.

Your body jolted a little, making him hold your side with his left hand, his right hand massaging the other stiffened bud.

He switched sides after a few moments, relishing in the sounds of your pretty moans and pants.

But something else was throbbing and aching, desperately needing his attention.

"Drew," you whined.

"Hmm?" He hummed, still worshipping your boobs.

"Need you."

"Yeah?" He cooed, reluctantly disconnecting his mouth from your right nipple as he continued to kiss down your stomach.

You nod, breathing short and needy. He got to the waistband of your sweatpants, looking back up at you.

"You can take those off too." You gave permission, already knowing what the man was going to ask.

He wasted no time in slipping the fabric down your legs, readjusting so his face was in between your spread thighs.

"Look how you ruined these panties, pretty girl... you're so needy f'me, huh?" He murmured softly.

All you could do was whine when he pressed a tender kiss to your clothed clit, the fabric absolutely soaked. It had been way too long since you'd had sex.

His large hand slid the fabric down your thighs, leaving you completely bare for him.

"So beautiful, baby. So beautiful..." he muttered, talking more to himself than you.

Your legs twitched when he flicked his tongue against your clit, hands digging in his hair.

"Drew--"

"I know, baby. Let daddy eat this pretty pussy, yeah? Just sit back and relax."

A needy whimper left your mouth, but you didn't respond. Not that you could, as he licked a stripe from your pulsating hole to the top of your clit.

He hoisted your thighs over his broad shoulders, moaning a little at your taste. His movements became more eager, beginning to lap at your cunt like a starved man.

Right hand in his hair, left hand gripping the couch. Your eyes rolled back, hips bucking up towards his face.

He made a grunt directly into your clit, another jolt of pleasure going into your body.

"Daddy... fuck..."

His piercing blue eyes were feeding off of your facial expressions, his cock throbbing in his own sweats.

He slipped two fingers into your cunt, focusing his mouth on your clit. His left hand slid down his own pants, beginning to palm his cock through his boxers.

"Yeah? Is daddy making you feel good, sweet girl?" He coos, whining a little as his own hips buck on the couch, desperate for more friction.

His noise and hips bucking made your cunt clench around his fingers, as if trying to pull him in deeper.

The knot in your stomach was already forming, almost embarrassing how quickly he turned you into a mess.

Legs trembling over his shoulders, hips rocking against his face and chin. You couldn't even announce you were coming, mind fuzzy from the pleasure.

He hummed when he noticed you releasing, continuing to lap up all your juices as he came in his pants.

When your body calmed down, he pulled away from your pussy and kneeled in between your legs.

He peeled his own hoodie off, revealing that perfect, toned body of his again. Your eyes drank in the sight, licking your lips.

“You’re so hot, Drew…” you murmured.

His ears were ringing, need coursing through his veins as he slipped off his sweats and boxers.

You had to physically hold back a gasp when you saw his cock for the first time.

People had always written it differently in all those guilty pleasure Rafe Cameron fanfics you would read when you couldn’t sleep.

But seeing it in person was just a whole new experience.

It was long and thick, which was to be expected. The man radiated big dick energy.

Pretty mushroom tip that was still leaking, his pubic hair slightly fuzzy as if he hadn’t shaved it in a week.

“Holy shit…”

“Mhm? Better than you imagined?” He asked teasingly, a smirk on his face as he grabbed a condom from his wallet.

You couldn’t help but playfully roll your eyes, a small snicker leaving you.

He rolled the condom onto his shaft, moving to hover over you again.

“Are you sure you want this, Y/n?” He asked softly, eyes gazing intently into yours.

“Yes… please fuck me, daddy.”

He let out a small groan, nestling himself in between your thighs. He used a long, strong arm to grab a couch pillow and tuck it under your hips.

You watched as he teasingly slid his head up and down your slit, tapping it against your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“Don’t tease me, please,” you beg.

Your pretty begging weakened his resolve as he slowly slid into you.

Whimpers and noises of pleasure left the both of you at the feeling, a course of energy being shared within your two bodies.

He kept pushing until he was all the way inside, giving you a moment to adjust as he captured your lips in his.

Your hands roamed over his biceps and back, loving the way the muscles flex against your palms. His skin was burning, adding to the electric feel.

When he felt you stop tensing around him, he began to slowly pull back, before pushing in, creating a delicious rhythm.

“Fuck… you feel so fuckin’ good, baby.” He moaned.

Your legs tightened around his hips, a noise leaving you as he rubbed right against that spongy spot.

“So deep, Drew… can feel you so deep,” you whined in between breaths.

“Yeah? You take this dick so good, pretty girl.”

His movements were getting a little rougher with every minute passing, both of you needing this.

Your crush on him for four years, the sexual tension you shared in the music video, the chemistry when you first met him on The Tonight Show.

It was all so surreal and felt like you were living straight out of a fanfic or dream.

His head dropped down to your chest, clearly having a thing for your hardened nipples as he nibbled gently.

Maybe one day Drew would fuck you without the condom and be able to feel your warm, velvety walls squeezing him without the protection.

He could dream.

“Shit, shit, shit.” You swore, the pillow under your hips allowing for his tip to kiss your cervix with every thrust.

“Mhm, yeah. Good girl.” He praised breathlessly, feeling a little lightheaded from everything.

The couch creaked a little beneath you two, your nails digging into his back.

He was already close, eyes fluttered shut as he lifted his head to press a kiss to your forehead.

His calloused thumb went to rub your clit, making your legs twitch around his sculpted hips.

Your cunt squeezed around his cock, your belly on fire with your building orgasm.

“You gonna cum f’me, sweet girl?” He choked out, hips snapping against yours.

“Y-yes!” You squeak, mind hazy, body trembling.

“Yeah… that’s it… let me feel you…”

His breathy words, deep penetration, and touch on your clit sent you over the edge again.

You moaned loudly, clinging onto his body as he talked you through your orgasm.

He was also talking himself through it, feeling his cock twitch as he spilled his seed into the condom.

His body was still against yours, both of you catching your breaths from the intensity.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead again, his chest rising and falling.

“You okay?” He asked you softly.

“Mhm… ‘m good…”

You kissed his lips again, more gently this time. His nose brushed against yours when he pulled away, lips connecting to your cheek.

He reluctantly slid out of you, kneeling between your legs again as his blue eyes gazed down at your cunt.

“Did you bring any more condoms?” You ask after a few moments.

He looks at your face, then reaches over to grab his wallet. He pulls out two more condom wrappers.

You grinned, licking your lips.

“So are we going two more rounds or what?”

tags!!

@slut4you @sweetlike-sugarplum @snowtargaryen @fastlovela @christinechickiee @ahgrace6 @evermorx89 @loren8818181 @eddiemuns0nl0ver @sophiesmovingcastle5 @chimchimjiminie16 @amel1ee @reader1402 @tqd4455 @rxeae @caraxes-syrax @shrimpybbq @drewstarkeysbabe @rafeswhoooreee @meropeeonmee @rafeluvrr @marvelahsobx @raeven-marie43 @fallout-girl219 @brendazzlingg @10ava01 @secretsideofbree @drewstarrrkey @p0gue420 @gibson-g1rl @kiiyomei @spiderstyles04 @sexualparkour @vinaluvsu @domainexpandme @mariadu2 @toterry @taliawz @always-reading @angvl3tears @iloveoldermenn @aesthetic-lyss @lover-girl-estxx @cadhlabear @kaiparkerwifes @herbookgarden @luvleyshif4 @caraxes-syrax @mymultiveres @reader1402 @dinnodallas @darkreymbow @vinaluvsu @sarahskywalker-amidala @christinechickiee @hoelesslyt @tincanhat @scenesofobx @james-bucky-barnackle @angvl3tears @belledawnidk @millietozier @vrsluts @chimmysoftpaws @brathwaite444 @urmanicpixieangelgirl

[astonmartinii]

i still miss the smoke | ollie bearman social media au

pairing: ollie bearman x fem singer ex reader

where there’s smoke, there’s fire and maybe we miss the warmth

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

y/nfanpage

liked by kimiantonelli, user1 and 102,309 others

tagged: yourusername

y/nfanpage: folklore is finally out and i say for everyone: thank you y/n!!!! another banger i believe, what did you guys think?

view all comments

user2: my ears have been BLESSED

user3: she really looked inside my brain and created the exact thing i needed

user4: and THIS is why i have a parasocial relationship sorry!

user5: you can tell she's been writing this a long time because she still sounds so in love

user6: i don't want to be that person that makes all her music about the men but like she's so obviously still in love with ollie

user7: she put the songs invisible string and the 1 on this record and didn't think we would see that she's so in love still

user8: maybe she's hoping that he'll listen and call her?

kimiantonelli: HE BETTER FUCKING CALL JESUS CHRIST

this comment has been deleted

user8: why did an account with over a million followers just reply to me and then delete his comment?

user9: babe that was soon-to-be mercedes f1 driver kimi antonelli (he's ollie's current teammate)

user8: WHAT?

user10: surely this is a sign?

user11: mum come pick me up they've made up yet another conspiracy about y/n and ollie getting back together

user12: 1. they're still in love argue with the wall 2. fuck ur mum

user11: excuse me?

user12: i said what i said, kimi commenting has proved the fact ollie clearly misses y/n as much as folklore proves she misses him

user13: as an f1 fan it still actually boggles my mind that ollie was actually with Y/N Y/LN

user14: no it's crazy because when he got called up in saudi arabia the first thing charles said to him was 'why didn't you bring y/n we wanted to meet her'

user15: also like the way the viewer count spiked for saudi with all the y/n fans watching

user16: well some of us didn't leave so now i have another expensive hobby and an unhealthy attachment to both of them

olliebearman

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 409,300 others

tagged: kimiantonelli

olliebearman: back to the action this weekend

view all comments

user17: thank you for my daily dose of bearnelli

user18: i can't believe both will be on the f1 grid next year 😭

user19: i hate that they won't be teammates

user20: you can't separate them they're like bonded cats

charles_leclerc: so when are you growing some balls and calling y/n?

olliebearman: huh?

charles_leclerc: answer me quickly oliver or you're not getting my car in FP1

olliebearman: i don't think you can do that?

charles_leclerc: do you wanna find out the hard way?

olliebearman: i know we have this cool father son thing going and i love that but STAY THE FUCK OF MY LOVE LIFE

charles_leclerc: i don't appreciate your tone young man

charles_leclerc: and i loved folklore and want my vinyl signed :P

olliebearman: go to a meet and greet like a normal person?

charles_leclerc: JUST CALL HER FOR FUCK SAKE

user21: so everyone lost their minds over the summer break i see

user22: well i hate to say it but they have a point - y/n is in the likes

user23: they're feeding my delusions i fear

kimiantonelli: we look like a couple here.... which reminds me ... you could be in a relationship ... if you just PICKED UP THE DAMN PHONE

olliebearman: do you fucking mind?

kimiantonelli: don't speak to me like that :(

olliebearman: this is my instagram page?

kimiantonelli: you keep fucking moping and it's bringing the mood down so do something about it for the love of god

olliebearman: stop airing me out online? I SAW UR TWEET

kimiantonelli: and yet she's still in your likes THERE'S STILL TIME JACKASS

user24: we're trusting these fools to drive f1 cars?

yourusername: i can see all of these comments?

this post has been deleted

f1insider

liked by user25, user26 and 21,843 others

tagged: olliebearman

f1insider: ollie meeting fans this weekend - one fan has stated that when she asked ollie to sign her y/n y/ln shirt he was more than happy to and said that his favourite song from the new album is invisible string and said "i'm still holding my end"

view all comments

user27: so he's freaking out about charles and kimi airing him out in public when he's spouting poetry to random f1 fans

user28: I WAS THE FAN and let me tell you bro was GOING THROUGH IT

user29: how so?

user28: well first of all he did a double take when he first saw my shirt and took time to properly look at it before signing - he knew in less than 5 seconds what his favourite song was and had this far off loved up look when he said about the invisible string

user29: oh he's so down bad

user30: the way i just know kimi was there groaning up a storm

user28: you would be correct

user31: someone needs to get that dude some compensation for real

user32: bro is coming into his f1 career known by the wider community as the guy who is the eternal third wheel to a couple who have been broken up for six months

user33: i'm sorry he can't say he's still holding onto the invisible string and just expect us all to be normal about it ?

user34: you can tell he's been with y/n though because before that the most eloquent thing he's said is when he sent carlos his condolences like he DIED

user35: we can't even say he's doing it for her attention because how did he know that the fan would run to social media

user36: based on how kimi is right now i'd put a lot of money on him going on like this at all times

user37: all this to say i hope they get back together because i think seeing y/n at an f1 race would send me into cardiac arrest

user38: she'd be up there for best ever wag i won't lie

user39: i do think she'd be the best but that's also because arguably ollie is more her wag

user40: they've mastered the lovestruck look of watching the person you love doing what they love

user41: we're all going to look so dumb if they never get back together

user42: SHUSH

yourusername

liked by kimiantonelli, olliebearman and 3,209,577 others

yourusername: you thought i was done? my bonus track 'the lakes' is out now!

view all comments

user43: STUNT ON THEM HOES

user44: this is such a funny comment in the context of how the music actually sounds

user45: okay well she's stepping on the girls' neck and hearing the snap like autumn leaves on the ground

charles_leclerc: amazing song once again y/n!

yourusername: thanks charles :)

charles_leclerc: now, what are we doing about this heartbroken son of mine?

yourusername: excuse me?

charles_leclerc: don't play coy with me miss, i know you're just as pathetically sad as him so why don't you get ur head out of the sand and call him up !!!!

yourusername: you know i saw all of your comments shouting at him to do the same thing

charles_leclerc: i'm standing on business - he was the one who deleted the post

yourusername: does he know you're doing that on my post as well then?

charles_leclerc: don't be stupid i know that fool still has your notifications on i can hear his phone buzzing every time you reply - he's trying to play it cool in the engineering meeting

yourusername: and you don't have to?

charles_leclerc: i told them it was a family emergency

yourusername: charles ????

charles_leclerc: whether you like it or not you are my grid daughter in law and so it does personally pain me when you IDIOTS don't see what is right in front of you - it's not like you have to use messenger pigeons, you can make it work

user46: i know ollie is going to have a heart attack when he finally reads this comments

charles_leclerc: he just snuck to the toilet and i could hear him drop his phone from the meeting room

olliebearman: STOP ARE YOU INSANE

olliebearman: also this is not "family drama" i was genuinely worried something had happened :/

yourusername: come on ollie you should know not to trust that man by now

user47: i know ^^ this is crazy but like bro THE LAKES ??? i swear in an interview y/n spoke about it was her and ollie's dream to spend christmas by the lakes?

user48: WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK

user49: plus the replies??? basically remarried

user50: genuine question for everyone in the comments talking about her getting back with this mystery man - why did they even break up?

user51: ollie was starting his f2 season that was going to secure him an f1 drive and y/n was starting an album cycle and finishing a tour so they broke up because of distance :(

user52: NOT FOR LONG :P

olliebearman

liked by charles_leclerc, kimiantonelli and 1,204,377 others

tagged: yourusername

olliebearman: i took her to the lakes where all the poets went to die (i didn't let her die)

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user54: WE HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE BACK

user55: shout out to kimi antonelli, you survived king

yourusername: you're such a cutie pie

olliebearman: just for you

yourusername: thanks for pushing me in the water and insisting on giving me mouth to mouth .... i think it might have been a front to kiss me tho

olliebearman: sue me, i've missed it :(

yourusername: you'll never be without it ever again

olliebearman: yay 🥳 🎉 😀 !!!!!!!!!

user56: why is he such a fucking nerd when his gf tells him she loves him

user57: he's so fucking real

charles_leclerc: FUCKING FINALLY

kimiantonelli: don't pretend you were on the front line old man

charles_leclerc: old man???? i'm 27

kimiantonelli: okay grandpa do you need directions to the nursing home

charles_leclerc: coming at me when fernando exists is a choice

kimiantonelli: i don't see fernando here complaining up a storm ?

fernandoalo_oficial: i am not taking sides here but the one time i have had a full conversation with ollie this season was during the pre-race parade and he spoke about y/n the whole time

yourusername: awwwww that's so cute bear :3

olliebearman: i told you i am obsessed with you

kimiantonelli: you don't say

olliebearman: just because you can't make references to bearnelli being real now

kimiantonelli: it's not real /??????????

yourusername: ???????

user58: just got her boyfriend back and is immediately has to battle his homoerotic situationship with his teammate

yourusername: i will never be free

olliebearman: he's just a funky lil guy babe, it would be rude to leave him out

kimiantonelli: yeah i'll take it!

kimiantonelli

liked by lewishamilton, olliebearman and 731,044 others

tagged: olliebearman, yourusername

kimiantonelli: WAR IS OVER

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user59: the way this man will never let them forget anything about this

user60: i know he's getting his evidence for his best man speech

kimiantonelli: you make a great point

olliebearman: that's a bold assumption that you would be my best man?

kimiantonelli: do not piss me off this morning oliver

yourusername: you can be my man of honour kimi :)

kimiantonelli: score !!!

olliebearman: how did we get here?

yourusername: i am weaponising your homoerotic tension against you

olliebearman: sure, you got me there

user61: are these people ever normal?

user62: nope!

user63: i know the merc and haas PR teams are shaking in their boots

user64: tbf i think haas will be welcoming it - i mean all the y/n fans will probably get the ollie merch next year ?

haasf1team: WE LOVE YOU Y/N 🥰

haasf1team: new wheel guns here we come - thanks y/n fans!

yourusername: thanks for being our lil messenger pigeon for these rough six months, we love you kimi <3

olliebearman: we're so lucky to have someone like you in our lives, forever grateful

kimiantonelli: i know i complained the whole time, i love you guys and i'd go through this weird three way conversation all over again

charles_leclerc: okay now this is all done @yourusername when are you coming to the paddock i have a lot of vinyls for you to sign!

yourusername: you've been very loud throughout this whole situation, why should i?

charles_leclerc: BECAUSE I LOVE YOUR MUSIC

charles_leclerc: and plus i do really want the best for both of you so i let kimi play nice cop

kimiantonelli: you were NOT in on this?

charles_leclerc: YOU'RE WELCOME 😉

olliebearman: let's all smile and wave

yourusername: 😃

kimiantonelli: 😃

yourusername

liked by kimiantonelli, charles_leclerc and 4,298,400 others

tagged: olliebearman

yourusername: i knew you were still the 1 for me x

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user66: back to flexing their love on us again

user67: i am cripplingly lonely but i am so happy for them

user68: honestly i think i've been through this breakup with them i also deserve compensation

yourusername: i only got so many hampers i'm sorry gal

maxverstappen1: is now an okay time to ask for tickets to the tour?

yourusername: yes! i'll grab you at a race and we can discuss what shows you want (spoiler alert it mostly lines up with the f1 calendar)

yourusername: also @charles_leclerc take notes on how to ask for things

maxverstappen1: schooled again bozo @charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc: EXCUSE ME I AM NUMBER 1 Y/N FAN ON THE GRID I AM ALLOWED TO BE INSANE ABOUT HAVING YOU IN THE PADDOCK

olliebearman: .... you're the biggest y/n fan on the grid?

charles_leclerc: you of course don't count

yourusername: you know what? sure! i'm just confused at this point

user69: i think this six month breakup rotted all of our brains at this point

user70: charles being a y/n fan makes a lot of sense tbf

user71: at least he didn't do the corny thing of just pretending his gf is a fan

olliebearman: i did say i'm still holding onto the end of the invisible string

yourusername: and if i told you i never let go either

olliebearman: then i know we were always meant to be

yourusername: ugh i love you

olliebearman: i love you more

kimiantonelli: i love you guys too :D

yourusername: 😭 😭 😭 we love you too kimi

olliebearman: we love you kimi :3

fin.

note: my ass finally finished a draft GOOD LORD and a first one for OLLIE !!!!!!!

[paarksunghoon]

what about childhood best friend hoon who has always seen you as the sweet and innocent kind until he accidentally stumbles upon your dirty mind and fantasies

this just did something to me

***

“What the fuck?!”

“Sunghoon!” your cheeks and neck feel like they’ve been set on fire. You mumble a quick apology and goodbye into your phone and end the call. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

“Your mom said you’d be home and I just got back into town.” He looks at you, frowning.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Sunghoon steps through the threshold of your bedroom wearing a black muscle tank and sweatpants. It’s a bit unfair how beautiful your best friend is with perfect biceps and an abdomen that can be seen through the fabric of his tank top. Sunghoon doesn’t have to try that hard and people will still fawn over him.

He looks at you like he’s seen a ghost. You see his duffle bag still in his hand but his grip seems to loosen the longer he looks at you. Sunghoon gulps and hesitantly takes a step inside of your room.

“You…I overheard you talking.”

“Why did you talk to my mom before coming come?” You ask, deflecting Sunghoon’s words in an attempt to pretend he heard nothing. “Did you drive home from school? Why is my apartment the first place you go to instead of your parents’ house?”

“Y/N.” Sunghoon’s throat feels a little too dry.

“You’re awful for not texting me before coming over.” He watches you turn around and put your phone on your table. “Anyway, how was your drive?”

Sunghoon drops his duffle bag. “I thought you were a virgin.”

You sputter. “A-A virgin? Why in the world would you think that?”

A part of you already knows this answer. Unlike you, Sunghoon’s not afraid to talk to you about his sex life and started hooking up with girls the second he left for college. He told you he lost his virginity the second he got home and updates you every so often about his sexual escapades, though not in great detail. He doesn’t press on about your sex and you don’t make it a point to bring it up because you aren’t as shameless as him.

The two of you don’t really have the dynamic where talking about sex is on the table. Or rather, he’s more open to the idea and doesn’t pry any information out of you because you’d shot him down when he asked about your virginity before you had sex for the first time. Sunghoon, for the fear of making you uncomfortable and losing his best friend, kept his mouth shut and generally always thought of you as a pretty innocent person.

You get a bit warm in the face when a sex scene in a movie comes on or whenever he plays songs that have sexual undertones to them in his car. Sunghoon has always thought you were a bit on the innocent side and figures the farthest you’ve ever gone was kissing Lee Heeseung in the eleventh grade.

But right now, his perception of you is distorted. Upon coming over after your mother told him where the spare key was, Sunghoon stood outside hoping to surprise you when he overhead you talking to your friend about a recent hookup.

“No amount of porn or book smut could really describe the feeling of a guy cumming inside of you. I had to practically beg him to take the condom off because he was worried it would be risky. But I’m on the pill so he agreed and fuck, it felt so good.”

He stands there, dumbfounded by the revaluation but can’t stop picturing you with your legs spread open for him on the bed next to you like he has for the past few weeks. Sunghoon’s face is red, no doubt.

“You’re looking at me funny.”

He whips his head to look at you. “I’m not acting funny. You’re acting funny.” Sunghoon watches you scoff and get up from your desk.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised that I fuck, Hoon.”

He sputters. “I don’t think about it.” That’s a lie.

“You don’t have to.” You shrug it off like it’s no big deal. “Do you use condoms?” Sunghoon chokes.

“No.”

Your wicked grin makes his cock jump.

“Me either.”

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! xx

[mggslover]

No Strings Attached

In which reader is on a mission to get her boss to relieve some stress, not realizing he'd end up doing the same for her.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: smut (18+) x fluff Content warnings: porn with plot, jessica and jack make an appearance, no mention of haley, hotch smiling (lol), reader being sad and a bit insecure bc she hasn't got laid in a while, mentions of drinking wine, no strings attached (but not really bc they're obsessed with each other), soft!dom hotch, praise, breast play, ass worship, oral (f receiving), p in v sex Word count: 4,7k A/n: first time writing a fic dedicated to Hotch and i fear i'm obsessed... also i had to do some acrobatics to make sure these positions work (they do) so give me a heart for the effort your feedback and support are highly appreciated!

Aaron Hotchner is a busy man. And these days, even more so. The responsibilities of being Unit Chief were always demanding, but they seemed to multiply now that he was balancing the weight of single parenthood as well.

As a profiler it was obvious to you how much he struggled with juggling between these professions, even though he always tried to hide it from the team. You noticed his slightly furrowed brow when he thought no one was watching, and the slow drag of his steps as he moved between meetings and paperwork.

Since you’d joined the team, you'd developed a deep respect for Aaron. Where others saw a hard-nosed, no-nonsense boss—a “drill sergeant” in Morgan’s words—you saw a man who held himself and his team to incredibly high standards because he believed in their potential. You saw a man who cared deeply, even when his personal life was slowly suffocating beneath the pressure of it all.

Even if he would never admit it, no human being can go through the difficulties he goes through without ever catching a break, without getting any help. So tonight, as you passed his office, a light still flickering inside, you decided to do something about it.

Your knuckle made contact with the door, knocking three times as you waited. When there was no immediate response, you quietly creaked the door open.

The sight of him behind the desk was familiar. His shoulders were hunched and his brows furrowed in concentration, as he scanned the endless stacks of paperwork that seemed to breed faster than he could handle them.

"Hey," you greeted softly, offering a small smile as you stepped into the room.

Hotch looked up from the pile in front of him, his gaze flicking from the documents to you. There was a slight exhaustion behind his eyes that he didn’t try to mask.

"Hey.” His eyes dropped to his wristwatch for just a moment, his lips curling into a subtle frown. "It’s late. Why haven’t you gone home yet?"

You waved off his concern. "I’m about to. Had to send a few more emails for the lab reports."

He nodded, but didn’t immediately return to his work. Instead, he watched you with that signature intensity of his, silently observing you.

"I- uh, I wanted to ask you something.” You hesitated for a moment as you moved further into the room, the door gently clicking shut behind you.

His brows rose slightly, an almost imperceptible shift of interest in his posture. "Go on."

You cleared your throat, your hands instinctively clasping behind your back. "You’ve been working a lot of late nights."

“That’s not a question.” He stated in an amused tone.

A small smile played on your lips. "I know, but it’s a… concern," you said. "And I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help you out."

He looked at you, his expression unreadable. His hands folded neatly in his lap, and he leaned back in his chair. It was hard to tell whether he was considering your offer or mentally debating the logistics of it.

"You want to help me out?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

“Yes.”

Aaron grabbed a stack of papers, knocking them into a neat pile on his desk, then looked back at you. "So, this is something you’re interested in?" His tone was laced with amusement as he nodded down at the amount of paperwork in his hands.

You winced at the sight of it. "Uh... not exactly," you said, trying to keep your tone light. "I was thinking more along the lines of taking care of Jack," you added, raising your voice slightly on the last part, unsure of how he’d react to your suggestion.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Taking care of Jack?"

"Yeah.” You met his gaze, trying to sound confident despite the uncertainty creeping in. "Just on the days we don’t have a case. I could go to your place and stay with him until you get home."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You know Jessica’s there," he said, referring to his ex-sister-in-law who had taken on the role of taking care of Jack when he had to work.

“Don’t you think she deserves a break every once in a while?”

His expression shifted, becoming slightly defensive. "She offered to take care of him.”

"I know," you responded quickly, knowing he’d never force her into it. "But I’m offering too. I babysat all through university, I know what I’m doing."

He gave you a tight-lipped smile, his eyes flicking back to the papers in front of him. "That’s not necessary, but thank you," he said, his tone closing the conversation.

You weren’t ready to let it go yet. You stepped closer to his desk, hoping to draw his attention back. "Please? I want to help you."

He didn’t look up. "I don’t need any help," he stubbornly replied, his eyes still glued to the paperwork.

“Then let me put it this way,” you pressed on. "I want to help the team, because no offense, your stress is affecting all of us. And on top of that, I want to help Jack."

He glanced up at you, the wheels in his mind turning, and you showed him your best puppy eyes.

"Did you learn that from Reid?" he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Is it working?" you grinned back.

He chuckled breathlessly. "Alright, fine. One night. Let’s see how it goes."

You fought back a victorious grin. “Good. Just you wait, Hotchner. Once you see how great I am with kids, you’ll never let me go."

—

A week later, Hotch took you up on your offer. Jessica had a wedding to attend, and you’d agreed to look after Jack for the evening.

Though you’d spent plenty of time with Jack when he visited his dad at the office or at events outside of work, Hotch insisted on driving you to his place for a proper handoff.

He held the door open for you as you entered his apartment. You were immediately greeted by Jessica, dressed in a stunning outfit with a purse ready in hand.

"I’m late, I’m late!" she panicked, almost running as she headed for the door. But when she saw you, her demeanor softened.

“There’s my saving grace,” she said with a relieved smile. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

You waved her off with a grin. “It’s my pleasure. You look amazing, go have fun.”

She offered a final smile, then said her goodbyes to Hotch before quickly heading out.

“Hi, Dad!” Jack’s voice rang out as he bounced into the living room, his excitement palpable. You smiled, watching the little boy as he ran toward his father.

“Hey, buddy.” Hotch lifted him into his arms with a small groan. “You’re getting bigger every day.”

Your heart warmed at the exchange. Hotch was a completely different man when he was at home—more relaxed, more playful, the kind of father who carefully kept work and family separate.

He put Jack down, introducing you to him.

“I know who she is, Dad. We colored together. She’s really good at drawing Spider-Man.”

Hotch raised an intrigued eyebrow at you.

"I have more hidden talents than you know,” you playfully shrugged.

You turned to Jack, crouching down to his level. "Want to grab the crayons? We can make some more drawings."

Jack’s eyes lit up, and without hesitation, he scampered off in search of his favorite colors, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll find the red one!”

You chuckled at his enthusiasm and straightened up, turning back to Hotch. “You’ve got a sweet kid,”

Hotch’s eyes followed Jack as he rummaged through the drawer. There was pride in the way he looked at his son, but you could see the hint of anxiety that always seemed to lurk beneath the surface when it came to Jack.

You placed a reassuring hand on his arm, giving him a small, comforting squeeze. “He’s in good hands, Hotch. You don’t have to worry.”

He met your eyes, and for a brief moment, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lift. His gaze softened with unspoken gratitude. “I trust you,” he spoke sincerely.

“Good.” You gave him a small smile and gave his bicep a final, reassuring pat. “Now get some work done. You might be able to make it in time for dinner.”

With a final glance at Jack, he turned to leave. The door clicked softly behind him, and you were left on your own with the mini version of him, who was already showing off his new crayons.

—

That evening marked the first of many. When you weren’t out on a case, you found yourself naturally heading to Hotch's after work—sometimes taking over from Jessica for the day or picking up Jack from school yourself. You often stayed well into the evening, even after Hotch came home, enjoying dinner together, playing games, or simply talking. There were even times where you stayed the night, sharing a quiet drink after putting Jack to bed. He’d insist you sleep in his bed while he took the couch. In the mornings, the three of you would share breakfast, with Hotch always ensuring the fridge was stocked with your favorite foods and knowing exactly how you liked your eggs.

You knew your colleagues would lose their minds if they’d ever find out, but for you, it never felt strange. It felt right. Comfortable. And whenever you were back on the field, you’d slip back into your professional roles—the accidental first-name slips the only sign of the bond you shared.

Being at their place made you realize how much your work had tangled itself into every aspect of your life. You’d moved away from family, struggled to maintain a personal life, and watched every attempt at dating falter because of your job. Despite how fulfilling your work at the BAU was, you’d forgotten just how deeply you craved a sense of belonging—a place where you were appreciated for more than just your professional skills or your ability to handle a weapon. Around Aaron and Jack, you could simply let go and be yourself.

Today was another day at the Hotchner house. You had spent the entire afternoon with Jack playing soccer in a nearby park until he was utterly exhausted, you practically had to drag him home. This time you didn’t mind though. Today has been a painful reminder of how single you were. The park had been filled with happy couples—some picnicking, some feeding the ducks, and others nervously sharing their first kiss.

You were grateful for how Aaron had allowed you to wiggle your way into his little family on days like these, but still it wasn’t yours. You still longed for one to call your own one day.

So, here you were—alone on the couch, watching a rom-com wishing you were starring in it, and finding comfort in the warmth of his house and the glass of wine in your hand.

You were so absorbed in the movie that you didn’t notice the door unlocking until Hotch stepped inside.

“Hey,” you greeted, reaching for the remote to pause the film.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, putting down his bag and hanging up his jacket. He loosened his tie and walked over to the couch, settling on the opposite end.

“Sorry, I opened a new bottle of wine”

He waved it off. “I’m glad that you did. It would’ve just collected dust on the shelf.”

You take another sip. “It’s a good one. Rossi’s?”

“You know it,” he replied with a soft smile, getting comfortable in the cushions as you put the movie back on.

The screen flickered with a romantic scene: a couple dancing in the rain, the male lead spinning the woman around in circles as they laughed.

“I miss that,” you murmured, a wistful smile tugging at your lips as you watched them.

Hotch glanced at you, a smirk forming. “It’s raining outside. Be my guest.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully dismissing the comment. “That’s not what I meant. Just look, Aaron,” you pointed at the TV, where the couple gazed at each other lovingly, before he pulled her in for a passionate kiss. “I don’t remember the last time someone looked at me like that.”

“Sometimes, I feel so desperate that I think about saying yes to the first guy who comes along, just to feel wanted again.”

Hotch straightened, concern flickering in his eyes. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“I know, Dad,” you teased, trying to ease the tension. “I’m unfortunately fully aware of the creeps out there.”

“On top of that, I’m not even sure anyone would take me up on it,” you added with a breathless laugh, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. “I haven’t exactly gotten much attention since joining the team. Maybe I’m not considered attractive anymore.”

“People can tell you know how to handle yourself,” he profiled. “Some find that intimidating. But you’re just as attractive—if not more so—than before you joined the team.”

You almost spilled your wine at his confession, the sudden heat in your cheeks betraying the flutter in your stomach.

“You don’t have to say that,” you mumbled, not wanting him to feel pity for you.

“Am I lying?” he asked, his voice steady. You met his gaze—his posture was open, his shoulders relaxed, and his eye contact was unwavering. It was textbook honesty.

“No,” you admitted quietly, feeling the truth of his words sink in.

“I don’t think you need some stranger or a serious relationship to get what you’re after.”

You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him right. “No?”

Hotch leaned in just a little, his voice lower now. “I think we could give each other what we need... without it being complicated.”

Your heart skipped, and you tried to process what he was suggesting. Your mind raced, the words hanging in the air between you.

“Are you suggesting a no-strings-attached relationship with me?”

He gave a small, wry smile. “I’m trying to be subtle about it, but it’s not going so well.”

You laughed, caught off guard, trying to mask your surprise as you saw the seriousness in his expression.

“How will this work?”

The corners of his lips lifted as you acknowledged thinking this through. “We would just… enjoy ourselves. Just when we’re here. Just when it’s the two of us.”

Enjoying yourself with Aaron Hotchner definitely wasn’t how you’d imagined this night going.

You stayed quiet, thinking it over. After a moment you slowly nodded your head. “Okay.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, waiting for confirmation.

“Yes. I am,” you responded, the words coming easier now.

You licked your lips nervously as he moved closer to you. His cologne enveloped you, making your pulse quicken.

As he continued gazing into your eyes, you decided it was your turn to make the next move. Carefully, you reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble against the palm of your hand. A small prayer passed through your mind, hoping you wouldn’t regret your next decision.

Then you kissed him.

The moment his lips met yours, the cliché of ��fireworks” suddenly made sense—the feeling was intense, electric, a rush that left you breathless. His hands moved to the sides of your waist, pulling you closer. Before you could think, you were settled on his lap, the world around you narrowing to the heat of his touch.

A small, desperate whimper escaped you as his tongue brushed against yours. It had been so long since someone touched you this way—especially someone as strong and attractive as Aaron. You could feel his heartbeat beneath your fingertips as your hand slid over his chest, the other wrapping around his neck. He deepened the kiss, and the feeling was so overwhelming that it almost made you cry in relief.

He brushed his hands over the smooth curve of your waist and down the swell of your thighs, digging his fingers into the clothed skin.

Your soft moans were swallowed by your kisses, and you couldn’t help yourself as you moved your hips against his, feeling yourself get more aroused with each movement against the thin fabric of his slacks.

He let out a low grunt as you repeatedly rolled your hips against the hardening bulge in his pants. His large hands roamed up beneath your shirt, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You placed your hands over his, ready to take your shirt off, but just as quickly his hands closed around your wrists, stopping you gently.

“Not here,” he warned. “Let’s move to the bedroom.”

His words sent a rush of desire to your core, and though your legs trembled, you stood from his lap and followed him across the room. As he moved, Hotch unbuckled his belt with one swift, effortless motion. You paused mid-step, breath catching at the sight of the leather coiled in his hand, hypnotised by how seductive the image looked. You blinked a couple of times to get out of your trance, before hurrying after him, your legs trying to catch up to his confident pace.

You stepped into the bedroom, moving until you stood at the foot of the bed as he locked the door behind you. A flutter of nerves stirred in your stomach at the reality of what was about to happen.

Hotch walked toward you, slowly closing the distance. His eyes were dark as they took you in with a look of pure lust—one you’d previously never seen on him.

“Turn around for me.”

Maybe it was because you were so accustomed to his authority in the field, or perhaps it was the undeniable fact that you'd let him do anything to you at this point, but without a second thought, you obeyed, turning your back toward him.

His hands reached out to rub over your shoulders in slow circles. You instinctively leaned into him, your eyes closing as you let yourself melt into the comfort of his touch. He presses in closer, his chin resting against your shoulder.

“What is it that you’ve been longing for?” His voice is a soft, sensual whisper, his breath warm against your skin.

A shaky breath escapes your lips as his hands delicately trail over your collarbones, carefully moving lower, inching toward your breasts. The moment his palms cup them, your nipples harden.

He hummed, still awaiting a response.

“You,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible through the thick need.

You feel the faint curve of a teasing smile against your skin. “You already have me,” he murmured. “Tell me how I can make you feel good.”

His thumbs flick over your nipples, and you arch your back into him, feeling the solid press of his body against yours, the hardness in his pants meeting you once again.

“It’s been a while since-” your words dissolve into a moan as his fingers pinch your nipples.

“Since what?” he teased, his lips tracing the curve of your neck, each kiss setting your skin alight.

You swallowed. “Since… since someone’s gone down on me.”

“Is that so?” he hummed, the sound rich with interest. His tongue slides up your neck, before turning it into a kiss.

“Aaron, please,” you begged, grinding your hips into him.

“How can someone like you have been deprived of pleasure for so long?” he thought out loud, and he finally grabbed the material of your shirt, pulling it over your head.

His hands glide softly over your back, before he unclasps your bra with one smooth motion. Your breasts spill free, and he immediately cups them in his hands, holding them as if he wants to keep you warm and covered. The pleasure is even more delicious now that the contact is skin-to-skin.

His hands roam over your stomach, until he reaches the button of your pants, undoing it. He sinks to his knees behind you, his fingers curling around the waistband of your pants and panties, easing them down. A low curse escapes him as the fabric slides over your ass and down your thighs, revealing more of you inch by inch.

You held onto his shoulder for support, as he steadied your leg, guiding you to step out of your pants. The second he tossed the fabric to the side, he placed his hands steadily on your thighs, leaning in to press a heated kiss to your ass. You let out a moan, bucking forward, but he holds you firmly in place as his lips trail wet, lingering kisses over your cheeks.

“Place your knee on the bed for me,” he tenderly instructs.

You followed his order, lifting one knee onto the bed, your upper body arching slightly as it hovers just above the mattress. The cool air brushes over your exposed pussy as you’re displayed in front of him.

A loud moan leaves your mouth, as his tongue makes contact with your folds. The pressure is just right, each flick of his tongue drawing a sharp gasp from you as he licks up and down in a deliberate rhythm.

“You taste like heaven,” he groans, the deep rumble of his voice vibrating through you as he speaks, “dripping down your thighs already.” His lips trail lower, and he laps up the wetness that has gathered on your inner thighs, his stubble tickling against your sensitive skin. You grip the sheets, desperate for something to hold on to.

Aaron’s tongue returns to your pussy, the tip of it firmly pushing inside, curling upward as he slides in and out, hitting all the right spots, sending waves of pleasure through you. Each thrust makes you cry out.

You let out a small whine as his tongue retreats, pressing a delicate kiss to the tender skin. “Don’t get me wrong,” he starts, licking his lips clean, “I love hearing you, but you can’t be too loud.”

You silently nodded, your breath hitching as his finger unhurriedly traced your sensitive folds. Just as he was about to enter you, you stopped him.

“I- I need your cock,” you whined, your hips pushing back toward him, desperate for more.

“Yeah? You need it that bad?” he teased, as he rose to his feet behind you.

You crawled onto the bed, glancing back at him. His lips still glistened with the trace of you, and his eyes were locked onto yours, filled with predatory focus.

“I need it, Aaron,” you repeated, biting your bottom lip as your gaze lingered on the hard outline of his length pressed against his thigh.

He groaned, his hands quickly pulling at his tie, tossing it aside before he began unbuttoning his shirt. His movements were confident—like a private performance just for you. You leaned back on your arms, your feet planted on the bed, allowing him to see just how much he was making you ache for him.

As he removed his shirt, the muscles in his broad shoulder flexed, and the trail of dark hair down his stomach led your eyes straight to what you craved.

He wasn’t shy as he pulled his pants down, eager to show you just how worked up you’d made him. His length stood hard, the tip flushed red and glistening with precum. You instinctively pressed your thighs together, giving you a soft release of tension.

He joined you on the bed, lying on his side and pulling you flush against his chest, spooning you. His lips crashed into yours in a deep, hungry kiss, his groans vibrating against your mouth. His hand explored your front, squeezing your breasts, while his arousal pressed insistently against your ass.

You moaned, your leg draping over his as you shifted, opening yourself up to him. He reached down, gripping his length, positioning it against you before slowly pushing inside, stretching you inch by inch.

You took a sharp breath, adjusting to the feel of him inside you. His cock throbbed, as if begging for you to move. Slowly, you rolled your hips, taking more of him in, and Hotch’s low growl rumbled in your ear.

“That’s it,” he praised, his voice rough with pleasure. “Taking me so well.”

He was fully inside you now, filling you completely, and his hand slid down to your exposed clit, his fingers moving in slow, rhythmic circles. His thrusts matched the pace, deep and deliberate.

Every movement sent shockwaves through your body, your breath quickening as the familiar knot of pleasure tightened in your stomach.

“I’m close, Aaron,” you whimpered, and he moaned in response, placing soft kisses along your jaw before sucking at your neck, marking you.

His fingers moved faster, pushing you closer to the edge, and your body twitched as your orgasm crashed over you. His arms held you tight, anchoring you as the sensations slowly subsided.

When he withdrew his hand from your clit, it slid down to your knee, bending your leg to spread you even wider. Without warning, he began pounding into you, the sudden change in speed making you cry out, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips.

“Be quiet for me. Don’t make me tell you again,” he warned. You involuntarily moaned at the way he commanded you, and he grunted in response.

With a swift motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, your body pressed flat against the bed. A sharp gasp escaped you as he grabbed your thighs, lifting them to raise your ass in the air, before entering you again.

One hand pressed firmly into your shoulder, holding you down, while the other gripped your hips, forcing you to meet each of his thrusts. The new position did its job—your moans were muffled into the pillow, leaving only the wet slap of skin and the sound of Hotch’s deep, guttural grunts with each push of his hips.

“They're so stupid for not wanting you,” he groaned. “You have me now. I’ll give you everything you want.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. After feeling this, you knew you wouldn’t ever be satisfied by anyone else. You would want no one but him.

“I’m going to come inside of you,” he breathed, bending over so his chest pressed against your back, his warmth enveloping you.

“Oh-“ Your breath caught as the sensation in your core tightened again. “Yes, please. Inside of me, please.” You couldn’t form a full sentence as the heat inside of your core builds up again.

He reaches under you to touch your clit, and the instant his fingers make contact, you come undone. Your legs tremble, giving way beneath you as the rush of pleasure takes over. Hotch pushes into you two more times before you feel him spill inside, the sensation sending you into another, deeper orgasm.

He presses soft, tender kisses to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers in your ear, “I’m sorry I got a little carried away.”

You hum in satisfaction, a pleased smile tugging at your lips. “I’m glad you did.”

—

You weren’t sure what time it was, but you had a quick shower together—Hotch giving you one more orgasm—and were now laying in bed, your clean bodies tangled under his sheets.

“Will you stay the night?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand as he held you close.

It was endearing how gentle and shy he sounded, a stark contrast to what the two of you had just shared.

“Only if you promise to not move to the couch,” you mumbled sleepily, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

You turned your head to him, noticing the quiet that had settled between you both.

“What is it?” you asked, tracing absent patterns to his skin.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I was thinking… maybe we can attach those strings a bit more.”

You chuckled. “Maybe,” you playfully teased, pressing a final kiss to his lips.

[emthimofnight]

Name ✨Stellar the Hedgehog✨

Age Varies based on what age I draw her, but let's say 16!

Pronouns She/Her

Basic Description The product of Project Stellar—a secret government operation aiming to perfect Project Shadow—Stellar is a genetic experiment combining the DNA of the Ultimate Life Form and the fastest thing alive. Designed to be a living weapon, Stellar was born in a hidden facility where she would have been raised to be an unstoppable weapon for the military. Thankfully, Shadow the Hedgehog (with help from Rouge the Bat) discovered her existence, destroyed the lab, and rescued her as an infant. Shadow then went on to begrudgingly inform his long-time rival, Sonic the Hedgehog, of their newfound child, seeing as she was technically just as much Sonic's problem as she was Shadow's. From there, the duo (along with help from their friends) raised Stellar as their daughter, sheltering her from the knowledge she was created to be a force of destruction for her masters. Along the way, Sonic and Shadow found themselves truly falling for one another, dissolving the barriers they had placed between one another as rivals, finding new appreciation for each other in their new parental roles.

Stellar herself is a bright, warm-hearted person. She has a strong sense of justice and never shies away from standing up for what is right. She takes after Sonic in personality, always cracking jokes and finding it hard to sit still. Despite this, she inherited Shadow's finesse and ability to plan out her choices, not to mention his abilities to utilize chaos energy. She has a love for figure skating, ballet, and make up (thanks to Auntie Rouge!), but don't let her feminine side fool you, she is not afraid to get her hands dirty! She would love nothing more than to spend her day smashing badniks into the ground with her skates if her dads would let her! Stellar loves both of her parents dearly, but sometimes wishes that they wouldn't be so protective of her. After all, what could they possibly have to be worried about?

Extra ✨Stellar's favorite color is red. ✨Her favorite food is chili dogs. ✨She is bisexual. ✨Her favorite flower is lavender, because it reminds her of home! ✨She learned how to skate from Shadow. ✨She calls Shadow "papa" and Sonic "dad". ✨She desperately wants to make her family and friends proud. ✨Her best friend is Camellia the Cat, the daughter of Blaze and Amy. ✨She loves racing Sonic, but is frustrated he always lets her win. ✨She can be VERY impulsive when angered, much like both of her parents! ✨She is SUPER dense when it comes to romance. She has no idea Camellia has been in love with her since they were little! ✨The inhibitor rings she wears keep her powers under control, but they also prevent her from truly mastering them. ✨Her powers are designed after collapsing stars/black holes. Extremely destructive to both herself and everything around her. ✨She has no awareness to the extent of the latent power inside her.

[jinxificada]

reserved affection

jinx x fem!reader

summary: while jinx deemed to be careless and independent, your devotion breaks down the walls.

notes: nsfw, mdni, wc 1,4k. SO apparently alot of u are pathetic needy losers like me since u liked that blurb sm i thought of writing it a bit more extensive heh. enjoy.

ཻུ۪۪ ༄࿐༉⁎ ⁺

her heavy steps echoed through the dark hallway, leading you to her hideout. you carry a big box of mechanical tools and pieces for her work as she grunts and complains under her breath.

she just left a meeting with silco and sevika, you weren’t allowed to be present but you still could hear the commotion from the outside. apparently, jinx made the tiny mistake of leaving a door unlocked in one of the shimmer factories, permitting a couple of addicts to get in there and steal very few rations. it could’ve been worse, that’s why she was scolded.

jinx was reckless, impulsive and a bit messy. but it wasn’t usual for her to make big mistakes, and if she did, she can take care of them just fine. you prefer not making a big deal out of them, specially because she got very sensitive after these situations.

she almost slammed the door closed on your face, well, she did, but your own feet stopped it. struggling, you followed her inside and rushed to leave her stuff. jinx was talking to herself, to the voices. you sighed and carefully approached her.

“jinx…” you called, your voice soft as well as your touch, though she still flinched when your hands reached for her shoulders from behind. “don’t worry about it, nothing major happened.”

“still—“ she huffed, not pulling away but neither reciprocating your affection as her own hands were busy gripping her own hair. “it was a mistake, the door— i forgot the lock and— shut it! he talked to me with that tone, sevika was there!”

“she dealt with it, forget it, it’s in the past now.” you tried again, walking to stand in front of her and gently take her hands, making her frown at you.

“you don’t get it, you never will.” she harshly said, “if i keep making mistakes he won’t let me go anywhere, i want to participate! i’m useful!”

“of course you are!”

she huffed again, skeptical. “you’re just saying that.”

that made you pout, even after years of devotion, she still doubted your words?

if someone knew jinx, it was you. having met her in the peak of y’all teenage years gave you the perfect panorama of her person. at first she was just a cool looking girl for you, someone who could bring a thrill to your depressing, boring life.

it was hard getting close to her, to convince her that you weren’t a threat and to break down her walls to know her story and see some vulnerability. in jinx’s defense it was an accident, you caught her guard down. and then, when you didn’t leave nor use any information against her or her father’s business, she kept you around.

in the end you were just a puppy following her around, you were just happy to be there for her. even though she treated you, well, like shit. but sometimes, you noticed she grew fond of you. she started to need you, your reassurance and your desinterested affection.

you showed a loyalty rare to find in zaun, and she appreciated it deeply.

“i’m serious,” you whined, fixing her disheveled hair and rubbing her cheeks. “you’re super smart, the cause will be lost if you don’t participate. silco needs you.”

your words combined with the soft caresses only fluttered her heart. warmth creeped up her chest and she pushed you away before you could notice her blush, walking to her work table to pretend being busy with something.

you don’t hesitate to follow, sticking to her back to hug her by the waist. “you’re perfect~” you hum, moving her braid to hide your face on her neck.

“you’re annoying…” she muttered back. jinx found it hard to push you away, she got scared the first time she felt comforted in your arms, breaking any chance of intimacy with sudden attitude towards you. but that was long ago, now she couldn’t help herself. she turned around with another murmur, “don’t leave a mark.” she warned, tangling her fingers in your hair to keep you close and try to guide your kisses. you were successful to distract her today.

“i won’t, i promise.” you shamelessly lie as you keep savoring her neck.

you wanted it to last forever. forcing your weight against her as soon as she lets you touch her. you gripped her waist, eagerly kissing and biting her pale skin.

“mhm, you taste so good…” you groan in delight, listening to her breath quickening and the quiet gasps.

“s-shut up.” she let you push her against her work table behind her, leaning her head back to give me even more space. “you’re smitten, hm—“

“f’course i am.”

there’s no shame in your voice, just pure devotion. you wanted her, you needed her. like air to breathe, you wanted to consume her.

her little puffs of breath only encouraged you to keep going. your lips smooched her neck and clavicle, urgently pulling at her top in an attempt to take it off.

“fuck—!” she huffed, obviously feigning annoyance again as she eagerly maneuvered to pull it off, exposing her chest for you. you moaned in unison when you took her nipple between your lips, you don’t lose a second to dig into her small breasts and worship every inch.

“lemme taste you, please,” you begged, “please please let me.”

“d’you deserve it, though?” she smirked, trying to control her quiet pants. you could only whine, rubbing your nose on her neck again as you hug her tightly, maybe this way she’ll soften up. “please, please, please.” you muffled pathetically.

you gasp when she pulled your head back from your hair, taking your lips in a deep, wet kiss. her tongue took control and you felt like melting.

you’ve kissed her many times, always needy and softly. she usually kisses back lazily, letting you have your way with her as if in obligation when in reality she craved the contact. but this was different, from the second she initiated it, she moved her lips fervently against your, forcing her tongue into your mouth.

and you easily submit, humming softly while you squeeze her bare waist in your hands. jinx surprised you again when she takes you to the old couch, pushing the couple of plushies and pillows to the floor to lead your back on the surface.

“oh— jinx?” you sighed, both eager and expectant to see what was she doing. you were about to look away when she stripped of her bottoms, but you found yourself hypnotized by her naked body.

“you wanted to taste me, baby?”

you sighed again, gazing at her with wide eyes as she accommodated herself on top of your stomach, “yeah.” you nodded, biting your lower lip in anticipation when she moved again to straddle your head, promptly about to sit on your face.

she doesn’t have to say anything else because you’re already sticking your tongue out, even raising your neck a little to finally reach her pussy. she was already wet, her silk folds opened easily as you mouth started to work for her pleasure. what a treat, you thought.

it wasn’t long before jinx squirmed on top of you, trembling and breathless moans echoed in the room as she rode your face with a neediness you’ve never seen from her. your hands tried to grip on her thighs to try and maintain a pace, but she was impatient and controlling. she looked down at you with a scrunched face, ready to complain, but the sight of your mesmerized eyes and the feeling of you tongue lapping and circling on her clit greedily…

her thighs trembled against your head, squeezing you tightly but you didn’t mind, doing your best to hold her to keep her from falling off, you kept working on her pussy as she lazily grinds down on you until it felt too much.

you almost whine when she pulled away, making space for her to drop on the couch next to you. you reached for her own underwear to clean the mess in between her legs, wishing she let you do it with your mouth again.

“feeling okay?” you softly murmured, seeing her twitch every once in a while in aftershock, jinx was extremely sensitive after the intensity of her orgasm.

“m’fine.” she whispered, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. she leaned her body to your chest and you don’t hesitate to cuddle her, moving her body to half sit on you for comfort. lovingly, you pepper her face with kisses, “dumbass,” she tried to keep up the cold façade, but it was useless. her soft smile gave her away, she enjoyed your affection and she craved it.

good thing you had tones to offer her.

[sondersil]

the gender dysphoria is getting really bad again lately.

i just wish that i had been born different. it would come with it's own challenges, of course. but?

not having to get (top) surgery? not having to yeet some organs to live in peace? being spared the expense, the pain of all if that?

i just can't wait to finally get a proper job to.. take care of it.

i definitely appreciate being able to be female-presenting some (most) days. i appreciate the softness of it. i also hate it, because it's hard to be perceived as anything else. on the days when that perception of my particular existence is the last thing i want.

what i.. really don't appreciate is being a different person once a month. hating the way i look because i can't get rid of them. feeling so ridiculously gross about it. feeling so misshapen, uncomfortable and ugly. fearing the process of finding a doctor who'll 'allow' me the procedures i want to get.

because the possibility of something i'll certainly never want is more important to them than peace within my own body. everywhere you go you have to fight tooth and nail to be taken seriously.

it's horrifying and i'm still scared and i'm just glad that in my country, if it truly came down to it.. i would at least still have a choice. that doesn't ease the fear. i would still have to make that choice. i tell myself it would be easy, but would it really? i doubt it.

it's just so tiring. to even think about.

it takes so much goddamn effort to take care of a female body, or at least my body, for it to not be uncomfortable or in pain and i hate it.

[itaipava]

— forms of non-sexual intimacy with f1 boys.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

kind of intimacy where you guys do things together that lead to inside jokes and private memories; a beautiful feeling of closeness that comes from working in unison. sometimes it's so subtle and unexpected, it's like the two of you lose your way going somewhere the two of you have never been and one is responsible for the driving and the other for the navigation. maybe a bit of a fight here and there, but both  still working together to reach your destination and knowing you’re never really lost as long as the other is around.

˒ ⌕ GEORSE RUSSELL

kind of intimacy where actions speak louder than words. making - or at least trying - each other's lives a little easier, a little lighter, a little smoother, a little prettier, and a little more bearable. having breakfast ready so you don't forget it when you're in a hurry. wash and dry dishes together after dinner. leaving little love notes in your things to make you smile. the little things he would do only for those he is really close to.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

his favorite form of intimacy is where the two of you give each other undivided and unique attention when you're together; being as busy as he is and having a lot to think about, there's something so beautiful and comforting about focusing on just one person: you. that means ignoring notifications and anything that bothers him aside when he's with you. leaving certain places earlier to spend more time with you. looking adoringly into each other's eyes at random moments where you can swear there are only the two of you in the world.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

distracted physical touches, usually out of habit. when you are watching tv; he reaches out and strokes your hair, plays with your earlobes, or nudges you gently with his foot. and even when you are in public or with other people, he finds himself playing with your hands, your fingers, tracing patterns on your palm or the back of your hand with his thumb, all while casually conversing with another person.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

bathing together; the form of intimacy in which you fully discover yourself and can appreciate every physical aspect while sharing a genuine and loving atmosphere. him gently washing your body with care and delicacy, as if he had all the time in the world to discover every little universe hidden in your body; he leaves soft kisses on your shoulder and neck as he washes your hair, which makes you smile because together with the little ripples of hot water they tickle your skin. being totally comfortable in each other's presence is what he's always wanted for the two of you since the beginning, and seeing your love growing every day makes his heart race with happiness in his chest.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

the form of intimacy that grows on common interests and activities. for him, there's nothing quite like coming together because of a mutual love for a particular tv show, or during an animated monopoly game or mobile games, or an underrated book. thinking about each other whenever see or hear about it. simple but precious memories resulting from losing sleep because you were too excited at that show or playing together all night.

˒ ⌕ LIAM LAWSON

the kind of intimacy that only grows and flourishes with time, the true meaning of “making life” together. the kind where the two of you help each other grow in every aspect of life; supporting and rooting for each other's victory but also being there and taking care of each other in defeats. it's when you start to know each other's thoughts, times and patterns as if there is an invisible bond that grows each day between the two of you; like it always connects the two of you even when you're not physically together. it's the form of intimacy where you only know and understand each other on a very deep level.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

a kind of pure, genuine intimacy that encourages each other; listen to each other's dreams, fears, stories and secrets without judgment and show that no matter what, you will be there for each other. always cheering and supporting each other's hobbies, which always makes your heart warm to remember that someone is genuinely rooting for you and that even if you fail, that person will not give up on you.