#carlos young and eager

[odeliba]

carlos as mikel's emotional foil fic when

[cutielando]

vacations with osc | l.n.

synopsis: in which Lando finally agrees to go on vacation with Oscar and Lily

a/n: based in this request! i'm really sorry if it sucks, but it was really rushed and i did my best

my masterlist

Lando had always had a great bond with each of his teammates ever since he joined Formula 1. 

He was always the younger one in the team and he was always taken under Carlos’ or Daniel’s wing. 

When Oscar joined the team, Lando was more than happy to play the big brother for the young Aussie, making sure his transition into F1 went as smoothly as possible. 

The dynamic between the two of them was refreshing, too. Oscar was very introverted and quiet, which is the complete opposite of what Lando was, talkative and loud and energetic. They balanced each other out perfectly, and you had noticed Oscar slowly coming out of his shell as time went by and he got more comfortable around your boyfriend.

They weren’t best friends, but they had become friends, maybe even close friends at that. 

Which is why it didn’t come as a surprise to you when Lando told you that Oscar and Lily would be joining you in Mallorca for 1 week during the summer break. 

To say that you were excited to spend some time with Lily was an understatement. You two had become the beloved McLaren wags, always together whenever Lily would have some free time and would join Oscar for races.

She was the sweetest person ever, her personality fitting Oscar’s perfectly, and she was such a kind person to talk to. She made the weekend more fun for you because you constantly had someone to share opinions with that wasn’t part of the official team of mechanics.

When it was time to finally leave for Mallorca, the 4 of you flew there together, which meant utter chaos on the plane from Lando and Oscar.

“Osc, that’s not how you play, mate” Lando was raging out over playing UNO with Oscar, the both of them operating on their own set of rules.

“Don’t tell me how to play UNO, mate. The rules say that I can put down a +2 over your own +2” Oscar argued, staring incredulously at your boyfriend.

You and Lily were both silently watching your boyfriends bicker and fight over the cards, snickering and whispering quietly so they wouldn’t hear you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Oscar so worked up about something before” you whispered to Lily, watching the heated exchange between them out of the corner of your eye.

She giggled, nodding her head.

“He’s really passionate about UNO, so he basically turns into a menace whenever he plays” she explained, making you nod.

A couple more minutes passed and the boys had finally come to an agreement, now silently analyzing their cards. 

Lando was not the best player when it came to UNO or any card game in general, but he was damned if he was going to let Oscar beat him at something.

The rest of the flight was spent in the same manner, the boys arguing over game rules and you and Lily just gossiping away from the chaos.

Upon touching down, the four of you got into different cars that had been waiting for you at the airport and drove towards the villa you had rented for the week.

As soon as you stepped foot into the house, both Oscar and Lando immediately ran upstairs, screaming at each other about who was claiming which bedroom. You and Lily looked at each other, shaking your heads at the little children you both called your boyfriends.

After you girls unpacked your suitcases and put on your swimsuits, you dragged Lando and Oscar down at the beach, which was a mere 2 minute walk from the house you had rented, eager to not waste any time to get some sun.

While walking towards the shore looking for a good spot, you fell into step with Lando behind Lily and Oscar, taking his hand into yours.

“It was nice of you to invite them” you murmured quietly to him, making sure your friends were out of earshot.

Lando smiled and nodded, looking at the young Aussie with fond eyes.

“He’s a good kid. I know how tough it is to be the new guy, so I wanted to make sure he felt welcome and he was comfortable with me. We do have to help each other, at the end of the day, for the sake of the team” he explained, making you nod in understanding.

It was true. Even though on track it was everyone out for themselves, Oscar and Lando had massive respect for each other and, at the end of the day, they both had to do their best for the team, make sure that even though they were competing against each other, they didn’t forget to work together when necessary for the benefit of the team.

And you were glad they got along as well as they did. 

The way went by as smoothly as any vacation day would.

You and Lily spent the entire day enjoying the sun and tanning while the boys joined you or played in the water for a while.

But they both mainly just watched the two of you, engaged in a passionate conversation about the latest books you’d both read, Lily’s studies and her work, gossiping about what you’d heard in the paddock and catching Lily up with everything she had missed.

It was a sight to behold for the two young men, who were both thinking the same thing: how did we get so lucky with them?

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

REQUEST HERE

[amirasainz]

Hi I love your work. I was wondering if you could write one where baby sainz only likes being around Rebecca and Alexandra when she's not with her family.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

Safe space

Carlos leaned against the garage wall, arms crossed as he watched his sister, Amira, from a distance. The bright lights and buzzing atmosphere of the paddock seemed to envelop her like a whirlwind. Even though she was shy by nature, her presence radiated a kind of quiet charm that made her the center of attention wherever she went. It wasn’t just the fans; drivers, team members, journalists — everyone wanted to steal a glance, get a smile, or hear a word from the younger Sainz.

But despite the admiration, everyone in the paddock knew Amira was reserved. She preferred to stay close to Carlos, rarely venturing far from him or their father during race weekends. Her wide, doe-like eyes would search for him in the crowd when she was overwhelmed, and Carlos would always be there to reassure her with a warm smile and a gentle squeeze on the shoulder.

Over time, however, someone else had started to catch Amira's eye — someone who wasn’t family but felt like she could be. Rebecca, Carlos’s girlfriend, had gradually earned Amira’s trust, giving her the kind of warmth and protection that the young woman craved amidst the chaotic world of Formula 1.

It started with the little things. Amira would glance around nervously, lost in the crowd, and there Rebecca would be, standing beside her, a reassuring hand on her arm. Rebecca was older and had an innate calmness about her that soothed Amira. She made sure Amira was comfortable, brought her a warm jacket when the paddock got chilly, handed her bottles of water or small snacks, and kept eager fans at bay with just a polite but firm look.

And then, there was the incident.

Amira had gotten separated from Carlos after a press event. The fans were closer than usual, crowding around her, each person trying to get a piece of her attention. She felt her pulse quicken, her breath shallow, and she looked around for Carlos, desperately.

But before Carlos could even move toward her, Rebecca was already there. She stepped in, wrapping her arms around Amira and pulling her close, creating a bubble of safety between them and the crowd. Amira didn’t resist; she melted into Rebecca’s embrace, burying her face in the older woman’s shoulder, finding solace in her presence.

“I’ve got you, darling,” Rebecca whispered softly, gently running her hand up and down Amira’s back. She was calm, commanding, effortlessly making it clear to the people around that Amira needed space.

Carlos finally reached them, concern etched across his face. “Hey, Amira,” he started, relieved but worried. “You okay?”

Rebecca tightened her hold just a little, almost protective, and gave Carlos a playful, challenging look. “I don’t know, Carlos. I might just keep her with me for a while.” She spoke softly to Amira, her voice dripping with warmth. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Amira looked up, her face still close to Rebecca’s. She gave a small smile, one that hinted at gratitude, and shook her head slightly. Carlos raised an eyebrow, amused but appreciative. His little sister had finally found someone outside the family who she could trust implicitly.

As the day went on, Rebecca kept Amira close by her side, arm casually draped over her shoulders. She made sure Amira was comfortable, offering her drinks, snacks, or a warm scarf when the breeze picked up. Amira felt protected, almost treasured, in a way that was new yet familiar. She glanced up at Rebecca occasionally, shy but grateful, the same way she looked at Carlos or their father.

And from then on, it was an unspoken understanding in the paddock: Amira Sainz was family, and if Carlos wasn’t by her side, Rebecca would be. Fans and drivers alike watched with quiet admiration. They knew that the young woman who once seemed untouchable and distant now had someone by her side who wasn’t bound by family, but by a deep, gentle care.

Carlos often caught glimpses of Rebecca tucking Amira’s hair behind her ear or shielding her from the more intense crowds with an arm around her shoulders. It was a bond that had formed quietly, a connection that had grown so naturally that it almost surprised him.

One evening, as the team celebrated in the paddock, Carlos watched his sister resting against Rebecca’s shoulder, her eyes half-closed with a content smile on her face. He caught Rebecca’s eye, and she gave him a gentle, knowing smile. There was no need for words; they both knew Amira was safe, cared for — a princess of Formula 1 who had found her protector.

[norrizzandpia]

Reckless Driving (LN4)

Summary: When McLaren thinks its funny to put Y/n in a sports-car with her boyfriend and a set of question cards. Spoiler Alert: She doesn’t!

Warnings: Absolutely none. TOOTH. ROTTING. FLUFF. ⚠️⚠️ (but if I missed anything lmk)

"Hi, everyone! Today, I am out on the Silverstone Circuit with none other than my beautiful girlfriend, Y/n!" Lando's calming voice brought Y/n nothing but anxiety as she waved to the camera. To say she was nervous for their planned youtube video for Mclaren would be an understatement. She had lost sleep over this. Even though Lando had assured her he would keep her safe, she still couldn't shake off the weariness.

Lando smiled down at her pale face before continuing, "As requested, Y/n and I are going to be taking out onto the circuit a new Mclaren and while I drive, she will be asking me questions which I will answer." He flashed his charming smile at the lens of the camera facing them, "She may be nervous, but it's happening!" He smiled mischievously at her as he grabbed her hand and led them toward the car a few feet behind them.

When they reached the passenger seat and Lando gestured for her to get in, she froze. Standing there with her arms glued to her side and her eyes trained on the seat staring back at her, she felt Lando's presence come closer before his hands landed on her arms and his lips came to rest near her ear.

"Baby, it's going to be fun. Trust me, you know I wouldn't put you in any danger. When you get in that car, your wellbeing will be my responsibility and you know I won't jeopardize it." He whispered for only her to hear.

His words and grounding hands were able to soothe her rapidly beating heart as she took a step into the passenger side of the sports car. Looking back up at Lando, who was bent at the waist and resting his arm on the roof so he could meet her gaze, she found his big smile and a look that said he was proud of her. Leaning into the car more and crowding her space, he laid a kiss on her lips, something the crew were eager to pick up on the footage and give the fans what they wanted.

"Thank you, my love." He said against her lips, his breath fanning out around her face and making her feel warm on the inside.

He soon was pulling away and shutting her door, jogging around the car with rosy cheeks to get to his side. Once he was in, he met her eyes again and laid a hand on her thigh, giving the soft skin a firm squeeze. Before their intimate moment could go any further, Lando's assistant was knocking on Y/n's window and gesturing for them to lower it.

With the cracked window, she was handing Y/n the question cards and reminding the couple to keep it as PG-13 as possible.

"Lando, I'm looking at you. Our usual audience with you is young girls, so please don't pull what you did in the last video where you wouldn't shut up about Y/n's body." Charlotte's words made Y/n blush furiously and Lando laughed hysterically. That video had been filmed two weeks before this one and for some reason, as Carlos and Lando tried Japanese food, he couldn't stop talking about how hot he thought his girlfriend was. Carlos found it amusing as well, but the boys were scolded soon after for making the video risky to post with all the pre-teens who followed them. Nonetheless, the video went viral and everyone was fawning over how cute their favorite F1 couple was.

"I can't make any promises." His comment earned him a glare from Charlotte whose eyes alone could have sent him lying six feet under. "Okay, okay! I won't make any comments like that!" He exclaimed as he raised his hands in surrender, his palms beginning to sweat under her intense stare.

Finally, the couple was left alone to have a conversation while Lando went over 100 miles per hour. If she wasn't nervous before, Y/n was nervous now. She felt like she could puke all over the front of the car once the engine started and Lando's foot came to step on the pedal.

He started out slow, wanting to maneuver his way onto the track before fully stepping onto the gas. Once he made it to the entrance, he stole a glance at Y/n who was clearly alarmed by his hesitation.

Lando sighed as he leaned over the center console and planted a kiss on her shoulder, "We don't have to do this if you're too nervous, Y/n. Seriously, they have so many other youtube ideas to fill this one with. Darling, if you don't want to do this, we don't have to. No one's going to be upset with you."

She smiled at him as her head rested on the seat beneath her, "No, let's do it. I trust you and I know, with you, anything can be fun, even a death ride."

Lando laughed and nodded his head, retreating back to the steering wheel and putting the car in drive. Before he could give her time to go back on her answer, Lando was speeding off and reaching 80 miles per hour in seconds.

The first thing that came out of Y/n's mouth was not the questions she held in her hands, but an ear piercing scream that had Lando laughing hard.

"Y/N!" He exclaimed, "You can't scream like that!" He said through all his laughing as she braced one hand on the window and another on the roof of the car.

He heard her breathe loudly before muttering "Okay, okay" to herself and reading the first question, "What is your least favorite part about being an F1 driver?"

Lando didn't have to think twice about his answer as he rounded a corner and Y/n let out a strained, unidentifiable sound, "My least favorite part is how much it keeps me away from you. I'm always traveling and even though you can come with me sometimes, I'm still away from you more than I would like."

Even through her anxiety, Y/n's heart warmed at his words and she smiled to herself as she read the next question, "What was the first thing you noticed about me when we were first introduced to one another?"

As he went down a straight, Lando stole a suggestive glance at Y/n. The two knew exactly what his answer was considering they had talked about it multiple times over the few years they had been together. When they first met in a club with their mutual friend, Y/n had been wearing a tighter dress that showed more cleavage than she would have anticipated, and since Lando was taller than her, his first glance at her wasn't her face, but her boobs. His continuing glances throughout the night hadn't gone unnoticed by Y/n and if it wasn't for his charming personality, she would have been put off. Lando had since apologized profusely if he made her uncomfortable with his inappropriate eyes, but because of how much she loves him and the fact that he means well, she didn't take it seriously.

Meeting his gaze from the seat beside him, the couple let out a few giggles and when Lando was about to answer honestly, he remembered what Charlotte had warned him about earlier, "Your bod- um, I mean, your eyes?" His statement sounded more like a question which made Y/n keel over with laughter. However, her laughter was interrupted when Lando sped up and took a narrow left turn. With another scream and plea for Lando to slow down, Y/n asked the next question.

"What's been the best thing that came out of your F1 career?" She white-knuckled the handle on the door.

"Well, there are a few things," Another turn of the steering wheel, "Being able to work with amazing drivers has been surreal, fulfilling a lifelong dream, being able to do what I love for work, and, last but not least, meeting the people that introduced me to you."

With a quick glance, Y/n and Lando were smiling widely at each other, "Baby, you are so sweet." She said as he blushed at the pet name and praise.

At the next question, Y/n laughed, already knowing the answer to it, "Have you ever lied to get out of a work meeting or PR event or anything of that sort?"

Lando's jaw opened and closed, "Oh god, I'm going to get in so much trouble. Yes, I have." Y/n was about to speak when he beat her to it, "BUT, it was only because you were really sick and I didn't want to leave you bed-ridden for hours."

She remembered that week very vaguely considering she felt like she was knocking on death's door. She did, however, remember Lando coming into their bedroom in a full tuxedo rambling on about how he wasn't going to his event because he was too worried about her. She had been so out of it, she let him take off his suit jacket, tie, and shoes, so he could unbutton a few buttons on his white shirt and roll up his sleeves to get into bed with her. If she hadn't been so sick, she would have refused his help and sent him off to his event, but once he got under the covers and wrapped her in his arms, she couldn't allow herself to try and push him out of bed.

As he came up on the last straight, Y/n asked her last question, "If you could, what would you change about your life?"

"I would marry you." His answer came out quickly and Y/n had to make sure she heard him right as he came to a full stop in front of the crew.

Lando's nerves took over as he studied her blank expression, although they disappeared when her face broke out into that smile he loved so much.

"I would marry you too." Each of them stared at the other as they laid their heads on the back of the seat. The cameras around the car caught the couple's dazed, lovesick look, something the fans would obsess over in the coming weeks.

To be honest, neither of the two could have anticipated how viral the video would go after it was released. Millions of people viewed and shared the challenge which introduced more people to F1. The clip of Lando saying Y/n's body for what he noticed first about her was an ongoing meme that, thankfully, the fans didn't take too seriously, and the clip of Lando saying he would marry Y/n was posted by millions, saying how it called them single in multiple different languages.

The only con that came out of the video was that, because of its incredible popularity, Y/n was asked to drive in a sports car with Lando all over again.

[mirohlayo]

SUCH A SIMP

( The monegasque driver has no problem showing himself to be particularly affectionate with you )

warning : fluff, charles spamming you with messages (but it's cute)

note : race week again bby

word count : 2.2k

Oh. It's funny how the monegasque who seems so confident turns into a real man unable to breathe properly when he's away from you.

A young woman who has only just taken her first steps in the incredible world of F1. You were able to apply for the red team, the italian Ferrari team. A great and majestic racing team whose name demands respect and recognition, especially for Italians. And you had just joined these motorsport gods in F1.

Finally, you are not in charge of the most difficult and relentless job either. You were recruited as a new social media manager, certainly with a lot of tasks to carry out, but undoubtedly a little less important than those of the racing engineers and strategists. However, the media is a source of content that fans of the sport love and your ultimate goal is to create the best videos and content possible for Ferrari.

So little by little, you appeared in the Ferrari motorhome. Your colleagues were starting to remember your face and your name, and after a good three weeks on the job, a lot of things had radically changed.

Firstly, you had integrated well into the Italian team. Good relationships and understandings with your colleagues. And secondly, and not least, a new form... of friendship - if we could describe it that way - was formed between you and the famous Monegasque Ferrari driver. Charles Leclerc.

The young man found himself curious about you, interested in this young new woman of his age who, despite the difficulty of the work, completed the tasks required in no time, a fairly perfectionist quality. It must be said that we can clearly see that she really likes this job. And this had intrigued Charles, who often found himself looking for the young brunette.

With the support of his teammate Carlos, who pushed him to take the plunge to try to approach you, Charles ended up introducing himself to you - as if you didn't already know him in this environment. He approached with a shy, almost nervous smile, while he could not hide his completely admiring, almost affectionate look. He struggled to form his sentences, far too dazzled by your sublime beauty and presence.

You seemed quite shy and reserved at first, and that was the case in everyday life. But that's what made you so charming, and Charles felt his heart beat harder and harder every time he managed to make you smile or laugh, a blush that appeared on your face and that he loved more and more.

You blink suddenly, as you start walking with your shoulders straight again in the paddock. You were so lost in your thoughts, remembering how this friendship between you and the driver had blossomed, that you hadn't noticed that the Ferrari motorhome was right in front of you.

The automatic doors open as you enter the small cube, shyly greeting the employees and your colleagues. “Hey, Y/n.” Carlos smiles at you kindly, happy to see you there. You hadn't set foot in the paddock for 2 weeks already, the team had offered you the opportunity to work remotely. You jumped at the opportunity, the chance to spend some time with your family during the week.

“How were your two weeks away from us? I bet you missed us” He winks at you, knowing deep down that a part of you was eager to get back to work there. "It was great. I got to enjoy a little bit with my family." You smile sincerely, remembering the activities you shared with your parents. “But it’s true that I missed working within the stable itself. And then, I couldn’t wait to see you again.”

Carlos' smirk is evident, his arms crossed over his chest as he smiles more and more. You raise your eyebrows slightly, intrigued by his reaction. "Is something wrong? Did I say something funny?" Finally, he chuckles weakly as he shakes his head. “I’m just thinking about how a certain man here was also very, very excited to see you again” He purses his lips, narrowing his eyes, leaning down to your ear so he can speak in a low voice.

“And although I really like you Y/n, that man isn’t me. Besides, I’m sure he’s currently complaining about how much he misses you.” He stands up straight and gives you another wink, followed by another smirk. You feel your cheeks heat up, blush violently. You try to look away, embarrassed.

You know very well who Carlos wants to talk about. You wanted to deny it, to tell yourself that it wasn't true and that it was only your conscience playing with you, but after Carlos' words, all these questions seem true. "Come on, go. You must have a lot of work, just like me. See you later, Y/n!" Carlos pats your shoulder as he walks further behind you.

You don't know how long you stood there in the middle of the motorhome floor, but long enough for you to think about what just happened. Carlos is always honest, and when he saw you in the presence of Charles, he did not hesitate to make some embarrassing remarks to you, like that the monegasque looked at you with hearts in his eyes or that he particularly liked to seek physical contact with you.

These remarks made you blush and Charles always seemed to become embarrassed, more shy than before as he begged Carlos to leave you alone. Because the Monegasque driver knows that his teammate is aware that he has a weakness for you. More than a weakling, he's literally a simp for you. But he really doesn't want you to know.

Or rather, he would like to but he's afraid of rushing you or of you not feeling the same way. After all, three weeks might be too early for you, but for Charles it was enough to make him completely lovesick for you.

You finally come to your senses, and after checking that your face is no longer completely red, you sit comfortably on the chair in your office. You finally got to work, responding to the last email you missed. A notification vibrated your phone, and glancing at the screen, you saw Charles' name.

You really wanted to continue working seriously, you had promised yourself to get back to work but the notification and the message from Charles were running through your head. So, despite yourself, you grab your phone and open your messages to click on the driver's message. Your gaze softens as you read it, your heart racing.

Charles Lec

I heard you finally arrived to the circuit. can't wait to see you again, miss you y/n :(

see you at the 11 o'clock meeting

The message makes you blush again, more lightly this time. But just with a simple message, Charles knows how to make your heart beat and put you in all your moods. He is charming, funny, and caring. Of course you had to fall in love with him. And Carlos' words said earlier secretly gave you hope. Hope for something deeper.

You were about to respond, but your eyes drifted to the messages he had sent you earlier in the month, specifically during your two weeks of remote working. And reading the messages, that's where Carlos' words took on their full meaning.

Charles Lec

07/06

i just learned that you are remote working, that's why I didn't find you at the paddock

i'm sad that you're not here but you also need to rest during these two weeks :(

miss u a lot

09/06

hello you ;) hope everything goes well.

i don't know if you saw the qualifying but I'm starting the race p11

the race will start soon, I hope you can still watch it

can't wait to see you again, gorgeous

still miss u

12/06

it's not race week but I would have liked to spend these few days with you but you work and you must surely enjoy your family

eat well and don't stay up too late, pretty girl

have a good day :))

14/06

i miss u y/n

i feel like it's been forever since I last saw you

I have already planned a few little things to do when you come back, call me back when you can :)

15/06

hello youu

In 1 week I'll see you again but I can't wait any longer

i think I'm gonna die if I don't talk to you right now

can i call u please? :(

16/06

i did a little workout today and I will continue next week

we see each other again in less than a week and all I can think about is that

take care sweetheart

miss you a lot lately :(

not just lately, miss u always, every single minute of the day

Everything seems to fit together like a puzzle. So Carlos was telling the truth, the man who is so eager to see you again is definitely Charles. Come to think of it, he texted you almost every day. To tell you how much he missed you and that he wanted to see you again, not forgetting to add a few pet names here and there.

This kind of revelation changes everything. Your feelings, the way you think and behave. You were still surprised at the idea that Charles could potentially love you the same way you love him. But there is no doubt about it, after everything that has just happened in a few minutes. And you didn't know if you were looking forward to going to the meeting or not.

But there you are, in front of the door to the small interview room. And as you enter, a little late, almost everyone is there. You can feel several eyes on you, but one is undeniable. Charles is there, sitting, his gaze completely glued to you, totally absorbed and attracted by you alone. He follows you with his eyes, completely in love, while your angelic beauty completely takes his breath away. Oh, he missed your face so much.

You move towards your chair, painfully avoiding meeting his burning gaze. But after all, it's impossible. Why would you want to avoid him, when he certainly feels the same way as you.

So, calmly, you sit down, you take your pen between your fingers, and taking a deep breath, you end up laying your eyes on him. You meet his gaze and there, time seems to stop for a moment. His eyes burn into your face, and your breath catches. But a shy smile, which ends up widening, takes its place on the driver's face. And, shyly, you smile back.

And during this meeting, you couldn't help but glance at each other a few times. And in Charles' head, everything was panicking. He wanted to hold you in his arms and never let go. He wanted to spend every next minute by your side, making you smile and laugh until you lost control. He wanted to stay for hours admiring you, listening to you speak with your sweet voice. He was finally able to live and breathe properly.

The meeting ends, you take a strangely long time to put away the few things you had brought with you. And Charles strangely seems to take care to say goodbye to each of the people who leave the room. So that in the end, you find yourself alone in the room. No one speaks, your gaze each focused on the corners of the room. And finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Charles finally approached you.

So close, that he ends up wrapping his arms around your waist, nestling his face in the crook of your neck. You practically melt in his embrace, as you return the favor, your hands gently caressing his back. “I missed you so, so much.” His voice is muffled. You giggle weakly, and just that little laugh melts Charles' heart.

"Carlos informed me that a certain person here was very eager to see me again, hmm?". Your shy nature wasn't the type to tease people, but seeing Charles like this made him absolutely adorable and you couldn't help but tease him a little. He groans, because he knows that as soon as he meets Carlos again, he will make him understand that he, on the contrary, will never look forward to seeing him again. But for now, he's just enjoying the moment.

"If it's to be able to stay in your arms like this, then yes I assume that this person is me. And now that you are here, you are certainly not going to leave me." And in an overconfidence, he pulls back just enough to place a soft, long kiss on your cheek, while his hands gently squeeze your hips. The sudden touch makes you jump slightly, and your face doesn't fail to show your embarrassment as it turns a pretty pink.

Which absolutely makes Charles laugh, totally captivated by you. But he absolutely didn't expect you to kiss him back, on his cheek already crimson from the contact of your lips on his skin. The room is suddenly filled with giggles, while the two secret lovers, or rather the two idiots in love who see their relationship blossom into something more beautiful, remain there for a while longer, in each other's arms.

And Carlos, who wanted to make his way into the room to collect his Ferrari cap, had observed everything from the doorway. A huge grin on his face, he finally rolled his eyes, amused. “Such a simp.” He whispers these words, which, without a doubt, perfectly reflect reality. Because yes, Charles is just a simp for you.

[hemmingsleclerc]

Karting ┃CS55

summary: where carlos and his daughter go karting

It was a beautiful evening in Madrid and the sun reflected on the karting track while Carlos Sainz stood next to a small, elegant kart. Her daughter Camila was next to him, enthusiasm and curiosity shining in her eyes. The distinctive sound of engines roaring and tires screeching filled the air as they watched other young drivers speeding down the track.

"Are you ready, Cami?" Carlos asked, smiling at his daughter. Camila nodded enthusiastically, her small hands gripping the steering wheel with determination.

Carlos bent down to her level and explained the basics of karting. "Remember, Camila, it's all about control and precision. Start slowly, get familiar with the kart and little by little you pick up speed. And most importantly, have fun."

Camila nodded again, paying attention to every word her father said. Carlos helped her put on her helmet, carefully adjusting it to ensure a perfect fit. As she adjusted the straps, she could see the mix of excitement and nervousness in her daughter's eyes.

The engine roared and Carlos walked next to the kart while Camila drove cautiously towards the track. The air was filled with the smell of rubber and the exhilarating sound of engines. Carlos shouted words of encouragement to Camila, guiding her through the initial laps.

With each turn, Camila gained confidence. Carlos watched with pride as his daughter understood the fundamentals of karting. His eyes lit up with excitement and a wide smile spread across his face as he felt the gust of wind against his helmet.

When Camila felt more comfortable, Carlos motioned for her to stop. She approached the kart and crouched down to her level again. "You're doing great, Cam! Now, let's work on taking those turns a little faster. Remember, use your body weight to change the balance of the kart."

Carlos demonstrated the technique, leaning into an imaginary spin. Camila nodded, eager to try. The engine roared once more as they resumed their turns, Camila now executing the turns with new skill.

Time flew by and soon the sun sank behind the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the tarmac. Carlos and Cam sat next to the kart, without helmets, sharing a moment of achievement and joy.

"You did fantastic, Cam," Carlos said, ruffling his messy hair through his helmet. "You have the makings of a great racer."

Camila smiled, her eyes shining with pride. "Thank you, Daddy! This is so much fun! Can we do it again?"

Carlos laughed out loud as he realized that he had just introduced his daughter to the world of racing. "Of course, amor. This is just the beginning. Who knows, maybe one day you'll be on the big circuits, making a name for yourself."

''Do you think that one day I will be as good as you?''

''I know you will be even better than me darling''

[lovelytsunoda]

F1 DRIVERS AS CHARACTERS FROM MAGIC MIKE

aka the best shitpost that has ever shitposted from lovelytsunoda on tumblr

JENSON BUTTON as DALLAS

He’s been around the block a few times. The seasoned veteran that holds our group together. Semi-retired, Jenson is now the touring MC and the owner of the club where our favourite boys perform. He’s still got it though, and that’s evident by the women that hang off him like shirtless white dudes are going out of style and they’re desperate to grab the last one. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and just how to please a woman. Looks incredible in a cowboy hat.

LEWIS HAMILTON as MIKE

He's got dreams, visions of a life where he can put his male stripper days behind him. Despite himself, he takes a new young talent under his wing, while he prepares to leave and create a humble new life for himself. Ladies everywhere know his name, and he's always the title performer. The other dancers are jealous of his street cred and wish they could all be him. There will never be another Lewis.

LANDO NORRIS as ADAM

He’s young, he’s eager and he’s attracted by the idea of swimming dollar bills and all the chicks he could possibly want. Lando Norris is green in the gills and needs someone to take him under their wing. Enter Lewis Hamilton. Lewis teaches the kid everything he knows, and eventually The Kid becomes a bigger star than he is.

CARLOS SAINZ JR. as BIG DICK RICHIE

Do I really need to explain this one? Ladies man with two sides: romantic and scandalous. Insecure about the size of his package, as it tends to scare the ladies away. Lover of MILFs. The ideas man of the group, tired of doing the same routines over and over again. No fashion sense at all. when he finally gets laid, you know damn well everybody is going to hear about it (and it might be with a middle aged mom).

CHARLES LECLERC as TITO

He's like a hyperactive puppy with a heart of gold. Brings a certain kind of swagger to the stage, but is easily distracted offstage. Has tried (and failed) to create different products and startups, but thinks whatever hairbrained idea he has come up with next is the one. Wants to go on Shark Tank. I love him your honour.

FERNANDO ALONSO as TARZAN

He's been in the game longer than some of the younger dancers have been alive. Nobody is sure why, but the ladies love him. A sweet and gentle soul who would do anything to go back in time and settle down with the one who got away, Fernando has more depth than expected.

OSCAR PIASTRI as KEN

Thinks they should 'stop giving women what men think they want' and start 'asking women what they want'. Certified sweetheart, the ladies love him. Will give you a lap dance while serenading you with love songs that stopped being popular in 1986. The baby of the group, sometimes it takes a few tries to be taken seriously. And did I mention women love him?

VALTTERI BOTTAS as TOBIAS

He may not be a good stripper, but he's the number one supporter (and the driver, and the DJ). When Jenson fucks off to Monaco, it's Valtteri who takes over as MC. Will totally win an impromptu drag race because he is just that bitch.

YUKI TSUNODA as ANDRE (magic mike xxl)

Certified sweetheart. Will put on his little fedora and suit jacket and make up a song about how wonderful you are. Because sometimes, the shy girls in the audience need a bit of love and attention as well. Even if his music career were to take off, he'd probably still keep stripping because he loves making pretty girls smile.

[shootingstarwritings]

A Beta makes, an Alpha takes

TW: homophobic slurs

Eduardo Garcia was a content creator who, like many others in his field, lived in the SolCal area. He was a self-described ladies man and an amateur pick-up artist. Most of his videos and livestreams focused on giving life advice for men. That night was the same as it always was, with Ed saying his catchphrase, “A beta makes, an alpha takes,” to his impressionable audience.

Once the stream ended and he counted his donations, Ed made his way to the bar. It didn’t take long for him to find another girl to screw. His type was always the same: eager young women new to town and looking for something deep and steady.

After a long and sensual session, the girl whose name he forgot asked if what Ed wanted for breakfast that morning. She had wanted to cuddle, but Ed’s protests kept her at bay. Ed pretended to think for a while before saying, “I’ll treat ya. It’ll be a surprise,” before kissing her.

Around five the following morning, Ed snuck out of her apartment having lost zero winks of sleep that night. ‘Not my fault there’s so many suckers in this town,’ he thought to himself, grinning the whole way back to his apartment. ‘They wouldn’t fall for fellas like me if they had a lick of common sense. I just do what I do. If they don’t wise up then it’s on them.’

That morning should’ve been like all the other ones for Ed. He was in a fantastic mood to grab a quick bite and then spend some time in the gym after scoring as hard as he did the night before. However, just as he reached the floor his apartment was on, he caught sight of his neighbor standing unusually still.

Carlos was exactly everything that Ed hated about the SolCal area. They were in the same field as influencers, but Carlos focused more on “Affirmations of the self,” and “Queer rights,” and other stuff Ed had long-since forgotten about. Carlos had gone to great detail to explain, but Ed had mostly tuned out whatever didn’t relate to Carlos’ follower count or the cash he was making. Knowing the two would never get along, Ed preferred to avoid Carlos altogether, even if he did secretly wish the two would collab so that Ed’s follower count would grow.

Yet, on that morning, Ed couldn’t take his eyes off of Carlos. He stood in front of his apartment door, staring blankly ahead. A few moments passed, but the man didn’t even blink. Ed knew he should just leave him along and mind his own business, but a nosy part of him urged him forward.

“Hey man,” Ed called out, “You okay? You’ve been standing there for like an hour or something.”

Carlos’ head immediately snapped towards the direction of Ed’s voice, causing the latter to nearly jump out of his skin. “I was unable to court another female,” said Carlos in a stilted, unnatural tone. “I was reviewing what I did wrong. Forgive the intrusion.”

‘Court another female. So the fag’s trying to get with chicks, now?’ thought Ed before being struck by a genius business idea. “Good on ya, man!” Any prior concerns about Carlos’ odd behavior were discarded to the wind as Ed wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed. “Good to see ya swinging for the right team. ‘bout time you dropped all that fag shit,” he said, pointing a thumb to the pride flag hanging on Carlos’ door.

“Fag shit…?” echoed Carlos, but he didn’t offer any resistance as he was guided to Ed’s apartment.

“You came to the right place, my friend. Nobody knows how to pick up the ladies quite like this lady-killer.”

“You kill them?”

“Ha-ha! Aw, ya crack me up, big guy. C’mon, I’ll give ya a few pointers.” For Ed, giving Carlos several of his lessons and even showing him the streaming setup was an investment. He was gaining much money from doing this, but all he needed was to win Carlos’ trust over and he’d be swimming in new subs and a brand new market to sell. There just had to be guys who played for both teams on Carlos’ faggy audience, he assured himself.

After about half an hour of coaching, Carlos repeated Ed’s lessons like a college student cramming for a final. “A beta makes, an alpha takes.” For whatever reason Carlos seemed particularly fond of that phrase.

“We’re the men. The providers! That’s why we gotta remind this pussified society who’s really in charge. The alphas,” said Ed, flexing his bicep to punctuate his point. His body was one of the few things he had worked honestly for. Steroids and diets were a frequent topics in his online rants. To Ed, if one couldn’t get a body like his naturally, then they couldn’t call themselves a real man.

“And this has worked to acquire mates?”

“Mates? Bro, I’m swimming in pussy. And soon you will too,” said Ed. He lightly tapped Carlos’ chest. “With a bod like this? It’ll be even easier. Stick with me and I’ll get you laid. Just, uh, don’t forget ‘bout that collab I mentioned.”

Carlos, after what seemed like an eternity of stone-cold stoicism, finally cracked a smile. “Yes, I would love to collaborate with you.”

“Awesome! Lemme get something to celebrate.” It was still early in the morning, but it was always five o’clock somewhere, right? Ed made hi way over to his fridge and pulled some of the quality beer. The cheap stuff was reserved for those rare moments he had a girl over. “We gotta celebrate this new friendship of ours, my man. I got--!”

Carlos tackled Ed as he walked back to the living room. The two crashed onto one of his couches in a mess of struggling limbs. “Yo, what the fuck, man?!” cried Ed. He tried to push Carlos off, but froze as he saw Carlos’ body convulsing and his eyes rolling up, showing the whites. Seizure? Stroke?

Before Ed could reach for his phone in his pocket, Carlos leaned forward and locked lips with him. As soon as the two made contact, a slimy creature flowed from Carlos’ mouth into Ed. Once the substance made contact with Ed, his body began unresponsive. He tried to struggle and push Carlos off of him, but his arms remained heavy and limp. More and more of the slime pumped into Ed until Carlos’ body, unconscious yet still convulsing rolled off of the couch.

Ed couldn’t move but he could still feel a chilling sensation spread throughout his body, filling him up. The slime crawled down his throat and began to expand inside of him. Most of it traveled down his esophagus and began to assimilate his core, arms, legs, and toes. Each limb seized and shook as it became corrupted by the invader.

Ed tried to scream as it fell the creature fill his head and coating his brain, yet he could do nothing but endure the sickening yet pleasurable feeling. It was filling him up, and for whatever reason, Ed couldn’t help but enjoy the way the creature dominated him. His body, still unresponsive to his pleas for help, merely humped the air and sensually moan as it was taken over.

Eventually, Ed blacked out. The last thing he perceived was his hands touching his face and his own laughter.

~~~

‘Please, give me my body back,’ whined Ed.

“Give it a rest, Ed,” the creature possessing Ed said, grinning to himself. “Thank you for providing this impressive specimen, by the way. I quite enjoyed the takeover.” He tilted his head as he read the magazine. “Hmm, you are well-endowed, indeed. Perfect for my mission.”

A few days had passed since the creature slithered into Ed’s body. Ed had woken up to see his body piloted by some kind of foreign invader. Despite Ed’s pleads, it refused to give up control, saying, “I’ve been needing a strong and virile specimen to breed and spread.”

‘You can’t fucking do this to me! It’s not right,’ Ed begged from the recesses of his own mind. ‘I’m a human being. I don’t deserve this!’

“Your mind is intact, is that not enough for you?” the creature said as he jerked Ed’s cock in the couch. “You could have ended up like my previous experiment. Right, Carlos?”

“Right you are, my alpha,” said the thing inside of Carlos. Ed tried to look away from Carlos’ naked and puppeted body, but the creature didn’t have the decency to give him that.

Carlos was not the creature’s first victim, but it was the first that didn’t suffer massive brain damage from the creature’s invasive efforts. However, the creature still hadn’t quite managed to access Carlos’ memories and personality. It had managed to figure out the basics and just needed one more attempt to do a proper possession. Ed was the creature’s first success, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“What else do you wish, my master?” said Carlos as he eagerly marched over to Ed, swaying his hips and sticking his ass out as he spoke. “Do you want to breed me once more? Fill me up with more of your spawn so I may go and spread?”

While Carlos hadn’t suffered brain damage, but the trauma of the invasion caused him to become catatonic. To remedy this, Carlos was the first one to received the creature’s spawn. The creature, riding high thanks to Ed’s disgust at the homosexual act, fucked Carlos’ body and let one of its children pilot the still-living husk.

“Please, act a bit more like your host would. Keep reviewing the videos.” Ed mentally screamed to himself as his invader forced him to say that. Even if the creatures had little idea as to how to blend in society, the sheer amount of content that Carlos and he made would guarantee that they had plenty of references for impersonating them. “Later, I’ll pump you full. I just… need to explore this body of mine a bit more.”

Carlos cleared his throat before giving a sweet, nonchalant smile. “No prob, my man. Later we should go out, though. Get familiar with the area.” He winked and said, “Later,” just as Carlos always did.

‘Please, let me go,’ Ed tried once more. The idea of the creature doing this to his friends and family, acting like him the whole time, was a hell he couldn’t bear. ‘I-I’ll even hook you up with another better. Better bodies, just please let me go…’ Ed internally sobbed.

“You’re quite pathetic,” the creature sneered as it violated Ed’s body once more. “Where’s your bravado, Eddie~? You were swimming in pussy just a few days ago. Now you’re pounding men and craving cock.” Ed’s body let out a malicious laugh as ropes of cum erupted from his stolen dick. “It’s like you always said. A beta makes, an alpha takes.”

[lecsainz]

Secret Crush

pairings: 2022 grid x driver!reader / fabio quartararo x driver!reader

warnings: grid of 2022, drivers being gossipers and acting like older siblings, seb as the father figure of the group and pierre being intrusive.

authors note: i started watching motogp not long ago, but I think it turned out great, and i can really picture this scene of them bothering Y/N and wanting to know who the boy was. just imagine them helping her get ready for the date and interrogating fabio about his intentions with Y/N. and I tried to include all the drivers but it's almost impossible 😭

word count: 2.6K

Y/N had always been a fan of Fabio Quartararo, the young frenchman who was making waves in the MotoGP world. So when she got a message from him on Instagram, she was over the moon.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, he just messaged me!!" Y/N exclaimed to herself, pacing back and forth in her motorhome at the paddock.

She quickly composed a reply to Fabio's message, trying to sound cool and casual, but her hands were shaking so much she could barely type.

Y/N: "Hey, what's up?"

She hit send, then collapsed onto her bed, heart pounding with excitement. A few moments later, her phone buzzed with a reply.

Fabio: "Not much, just hanging out at home. Saw your race last weekend, you were amazing! How's the f1 life treating you?"

Y/N couldn't believe it, Fabio had actually watched her race! She started pacing again, muttering to herself.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, he thinks I'm amazing! What do I even say? I have to be cool, I can't sound too eager."

She took a deep breath and composed another reply.

S/N: "Thanks! f1 life is treating me well, but it's tough out here on the road. How about you? How do you deal with all the travel and pressure?"

Again, she hit send, then waited anxiously for a response. It came quickly.

Fabio: "I know what you mean, the travel can be exhausting. But I just try to stay focused on the racing and not let the other stuff distract me. You seem to be doing a great job of that too!"

Y/N couldn't stop grinning he was being so nice to her! She paced around her motorhome again, feeling giddy.

"Oh my god, he's so sweet! Maybe he's interested in me too? No, no, don't get ahead of yourself, Y/N. Just be cool, be cool."

She took a deep breath and composed another message.

S/N: "Thanks, that means a lot coming from you. Maybe we could grab a drink sometime and chat about racing?"

She hit send, then waited nervously for a reply. It came a few moments later.

Fabio: "Sure, that sounds great! I'll be in town for the next weekend race, how about we meet up then?"

Y/N couldn't believe it, she was actually going to meet him in person! She let out a squeal of excitement and did a little victory dance around her motorhome.

"I can't believe this is happening! This is going to be the best weekend ever!" she said to herself, grinning from ear to ear.

As Y/N read his message, she started to hyperventilate. She had just asked him out on a date, and now he was actually interested in meeting up with her. She looked up from her phone to see the other F1 drivers staring at her in confusion.

"What's going on, Y/N?" Charles asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yeah, you look like you've seen a ghost." Lando chimed in.

Y/N blushed and put her phone down, trying to act nonchalant. "Oh, nothing, just messaging with someone." she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

But the other drivers weren't fooled. They crowded around her, trying to get a look at her phone.

"Who are you texting, Y/N? Is it a secret crush?" Carlos teased, poking her in the ribs.

"None of your business, Carlos," Y/N replied, trying to hide her smile.

"Ooh, it is a secret crush!" Lando chimed in, winking at Y/N. "Come on, you can tell us. We won't judge."

Y/N shook her head, still trying to keep the conversation vague. "It's nothing, guys. Just catching up with a friend." she said, hoping they wouldn't push the subject any further.

But the other drivers weren't going to let it go that easily. They bombarded her with questions and guesses, trying to figure out who the mystery person was.

"Is it a driver? A mechanic? A fan?" Yuki asked, grinning.

Y/N swatted his hand away and rolled her eyes. "No, it's just Fabio Quartararo." she said, trying to sound casual. “But please don't make a big deal out of it." she said, biting her lip.

The other drivers looked at each other in confusion. 

"Wait, Fabio Quartararo? As in the MotoGP rider?" Pierre asked.

"Yeah! And I just asked him out on a date." Y/N said, blushing even harder.

The other drivers erupted into laughter. "Y/N, you little devil! I had no idea you had it in you." Daniel said, clapping her on the back.

Y/N frowned at them. "It's not like that! He just wants to talk about racing." she protested.

"Sure, sure, we believe you." Checo said, winking at her.

Daniel suddenly spoke up. "You know, Y/N, our little sister is growing up so fast. It seems like just yesterday you was learning how to drive, and now you’re all grown up." he said, grinning.

Y/N groaned, "Oh god, please don't start with that 'little sister' crap again. It's bad enough that everyone else sees me that way."

But it was too late. The other drivers had already caught on to Daniel's joke, and they started to join in. "Yeah, I remember when we used to have to keep an eye on her in the paddock. Now she's all independent and texting boys." Pierre laughed.

As the group continued to tease her about her crush on Fabio, Y/N suddenly felt a wave of panic wash over her. 

"Guys, stop, please. It's not like anything is going to happen anyway," she said, feeling uncertain.

"What do you mean?" Charles asked, looking at her curiously. "You've got a date with him, right?"

Y/N nodded, feeling her stomach churning with nerves. "Yeah, but I don't know what to do. I've never been on a real date before."

The other drivers looked at her sympathetically, their teasing forgotten. "Hey, don't worry about it." Alex said reassuringly. "Just be yourself and have fun. It's just a date, not a marriage proposal."

Esteban added, "And whatever you do, don't order spaghetti. That's just asking for trouble."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

Esteban shrugged, "It's messy and hard to eat. Not exactly the most attractive thing to do on a date."

The other drivers nodded in agreement, giving her thumbs up and high fives and Y/N couldn't help but laugh at their silly advice. 

Sebastian noticed Y/N looking a bit nervous and approached her with a gentle smile. "Hey, Y/N, can I give you some advice?" he asked, sitting down next to her.

Y/N nodded eagerly, grateful for his guidance. "Please, Seb, I could use all the help I can get." she said.

Sebastian chuckled. "Well, first of all, just be yourself. Don't try to impress him by being someone you're not." he advised.

Y/N nodded, taking his words to heart. "Okay, I can do that." she said.

Sebastian continued, "And remember, if he's not interested, it's not the end of the world. There are plenty of other guys out there who would be lucky to go on a date with you."

Y/N smiled, feeling a bit more confident. "Thanks, Seb, that means a lot to me." she said.

Sebastian patted her on the back. "No problem, Y/N. You're like a daughter to me, and I want to see you happy." he said, with a warm smile.

Y/N felt a surge of affection for the veteran driver. "Thanks Seb, that means a lot to me." she said, giving him a quick hug.

The other drivers, who had been listening in on the conversation, teased Sebastian. "Aw Seb, you're such a softie." Daniel teased, winking at Y/N.

Sebastian rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a small smile. "Just trying to help out." he said, with a shrug.

Y/N grinned at the group of drivers. "Thanks, guys, you're the best. I'll let you know how it goes." she said, feeling more confident than ever.

But as Y/N was walked away, Daniel and Pierre couldn't resist teasing her a bit more. "So you finally going to make a move on Fabio?" Daniel asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Y/N blushed and rolled her eyes. "You guys are ridiculous." she said, trying to hide her smile.

Pierre joined in, "Yeah, and don't forget that we see you as our little sister, so we need to approve of any guy you date."

Y/N groaned, "Oh great, like I needed more pressure."

Max laughed, "Hey, we just want to make sure he's good enough for you. And if he's not, we'll beat him up for you."

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at their antics. "Thanks, guys, but I think I can handle it." she said, shaking her head.

Carlos gave her a playful nudge, "Well, just remember that we're here for you if you need us."

Y/N smiled gratefully, feeling lucky to have such supportive friends. 

Y/N couldn't help but mutter to herself as she walked back to her motorhome, "Ugh, I bet the entire paddock already knows I'm interested in Fabio. Gossip travels so fast around here."

As if on cue, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see George and Lewis walking towards her. "Hey, Y/N, heard you're causing quite a stir around here." George teased, grinning.

Y/N felt her face turning red. "Oh god, please don't tell me everyone knows." she said, feeling embarrassed.

Lewis laughed, "Sorry to break it to you, but word spreads pretty quickly in the paddock."

Y/N groaned, "Great, now I'm going to be the laughing stock of the entire grid."

George put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Nah, don't worry about it. We've all been there before. In fact, I could tell you some stories about Lewis and his love life." he joked, giving Lewis a playful nudge.

Lewis rolled his eyes, "Ha ha, very funny. But seriously, Y/N, don't let it get to you. Just be confident and be yourself. And if it doesn't work out with him, there are plenty of other fish in the sea."

Y/N smiled, feeling grateful for their support. "Thanks guys, I appreciate it. I'll try not to let it get to me." she said, feeling more confident already.

She was relaxing in her motorhome when her phone suddenly beeped with a notification. She quickly picked it up and saw that it was a message from Fabio.

Her heart started racing as she read the message, feeling both excited and nervous. But before she could even finish reading it, she heard Daniel's voice behind her.

"Ooh, who's that? Let me see." he said, trying to peek over her shoulder.

Y/N quickly swiped her phone away, "None of your business, Danny." she said, trying to hide her smile.

But before she could even respond to Fabio's message, another message popped up from him. "Uh oh." she thought to herself, knowing that it couldn't be good news.

Fabio: Hey again! Y/N, I heard something interesting today…

Y/N: Oh really? What's that?

Fabio: Well, Pierre mentioned that he thinks you might have a little crush on me.

Y/N: Oh no, he didn't!

Y/N: 🤦‍♀️ I can't believe he said that. I'm so sorry.

As she read the message, she felt a surge of anger and frustration. Pierre had told Fabio about her crush on him, and she was not happy about it.

"Where is that little weasel?" she muttered under her breath, storming out of her motorhome in search of Pierre.

Daniel and the other drivers watched in amusement as Y/N charged through the paddock, looking like she was ready to murder someone.

"Uh, should we be worried?" Lando asked, raising an eyebrow.

Daniel shook his head, "Nah, she's just on a mission to kill Pierre. Nothing new there." he joked, grinning.

Just as they were all laughing, Pierre suddenly appeared, running in the opposite direction with Y/N hot on his heels.

"Run, Pierre, run!" Charles shouted, laughing.

As the group continued to joke and tease each other, Seb suddenly walked up, looking slightly confused.

"Hey guys, what's going on?" he asked, looking around at the group.

George grinned, "Just Y/N chasing Pierre around the paddock. You know, normal stuff." he said, chuckling.

Seb raised an eyebrow, looking slightly concerned. "Should we do something? Is everything okay?"

Mick shook his head, "Nah, they're just goofing around. Y/N's not actually going to hurt Pierre." he said, smirking.

Seb watched in amusement as they ran past, shaking his head in disbelief. "You guys are all crazy." he said, but there was a hint of a smile on his face.

Seb chuckled, watching as Y/N finally caught up to Pierre and tackled him to the ground. "You know what, I'm actually rooting for Y/N to get Pierre," he said, grinning.

The other drivers laughed, but there was a hint of agreement in their voices. Despite their teasing, they all knew that Y/N was a great catch, and Pierre would be lucky to have her.

"Alright, enough of this." Lewis said, clapping his hands. "We have a race to prepare for, remember?"

The drivers all nodded, reluctantly tearing their attention away from Y/N and Pierre's antics.

As the drivers walked towards their motorhomes, Y/N's phone started ringing. She looked at the caller ID and saw that it was Fábio. Her heart started racing as she debated whether or not to answer.

The other drivers noticed her hesitation and couldn't resist teasing her. "Go on, answer it!" Charles said, grinning.

Y/N shook her head, feeling flustered. "I can't, I don't know what to say!" she exclaimed.

The other drivers laughed, finding her panic amusing. "Just answer it and see what he wants." Lando said, patting her on the back.

Y/N's hands were shaking as she tried to answer the call, but just as she was about to hit the accept button, the call suddenly dropped.

"NO!" she shouted, frantically trying to call Fabio back.

The other drivers watched in amusement as Y/N paced back and forth, muttering to herself in frustration. "Why does this always happen to me?" she said, shaking her head.

Daniel grinned, "Maybe he's just not that into you." he joked.

Y/N rolled her eyes, "Shut up, Daniel." she said, playfully punching his arm.

Y/N chuckled as she read his message, feeling her phone vibrate in her hand. She quickly typed out a response, trying not to seem too eager.

Fabio: Don't be sorry! I actually thought it was kind of cute. Is it true? 

Y/N: Well, maybe a little bit...I mean, I do think you're pretty amazing.

Fabio:  Well, I think you're pretty amazing too. In fact, I was planning on asking you out, but you beat me to it! I was so happy when you messaged me first.

Y/N: Really? I had no idea.

Fabio: Yeah, I was trying to work up the courage to ask you out, but then you beat me to the punch. I guess great minds think alike, right? 😉

Y/N: I guess so! I was actually really nervous when I asked you out too. It's funny how even race car drivers can get butterflies in their stomachs.

Fabio: Yeah, I know what you mean. But I'm really glad you did, because I've been wanting to spend more time with you. You're always so focused on your driving that I didn't think you had time for anything else.

Y/N: Well, I do have time for you. I think you're worth making time for.

Fabio: That means a lot to me, Y/N. I feel the same way about you.

Just as she hit send, she noticed the other drivers watching her with grins on their faces. She rolled her eyes and held up her middle finger, playfully flipping them off.

"Hey, that's not very nice." Lewis teased, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Y/N just laughed and shook her head. "You guys are lucky that I love you." she said.

[fanaticsnail]

Chapter 8

Masterlist Here, Moodboard Here

Sapsorrow Masterlist

Word Count: 10,700+

"Whom so ever fits the ring becomes wed to the warlord who owns it" Themes: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, forced proximity, lord and subordinate, one bed trope, apprehension, mutual pining, obligation, slow burn, eventual love, protective, "where is my wife" trope.

Starlight

(Image Source: https://www.pinterest.com.au/pin/462322717990096069/)

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Notes: Thank you to @i-am-vita for her banner! Oh, boy. This is a big chapter. Next chapter will be MDNI, 18+. Thank you for your patience with me working at this. Two more chapters to go!

Song Suggestions: Young and Beautiful - Je suis Parte & Por Una Cabeza - Carlos Gardel

The ship swayed over the cloudy swell of darkened waves, shepherding the vessel away from the Kuraigana port and to a location your captain deemed appropriate for a newlywed bride to be hidden away from her husband. 

Captain Buggy D Clown was not one to shy away from anything, especially not when something as interesting as causing drama and theatrics at the expense of Lord Dracule Mihawk was present. He was eager to present this challenge, whether you or Mihawk were also eager was a completely different tale entirely. 

Within the Captain’s quarters aboard the Big-Top, you struggled with the back of your dress: uncinching the rigging your ward managed to tie for you to keep your body contained within its material. A huffed and agitated smile awoke on your face, picturing this struggle in comparison to the one to come after your starlight ensemble. If the moon was as difficult to rid from your body, you could not imagine how taxing the sun would be over your skin and concealing you from your husband.

Husband. You have a husband now. A husband that would be more than agitated to know you were now out to open seas and venturing to unknown horizons, away from the celebration he carefully curated for you. 

“-Everything alright in here, Starlight?” the nasally crack of Buggy’s voice cut through the wooden door, “‘Ya need help?” You chuckled darkly, attempting to pry the material from you to no avail. 

“Actually, Captain,” your voice held a frantic wave within its tone, “I think I do. The back is snagged, and I can’t get the damn thing off of me.” The door slowly creaked open, after a gentle rap alerted you he was to do so. You turned yourself away to conceal your exasperation from him, the stutter in your hands giving away your agitation as you continued to fumble over the ribbons at the rear of your dress.

“Do you trust me, Doll?” you heard his voice alarmingly close to your body, enough to cause a hitch in your throat. You glanced over your shoulder, witnessing Buggy’s teal eyes glancing up through his eyelashes and lips parting in concern. 

“Considering you have robbed me of my wedding night with my beau,” your warning tone cut through the air as swift as a guillotine, “Spirited me away from the unity celebrations, and-,” you huffed, turning back around and glaring out of the bay window, “Confined me to spend this time alone and isolated from all those I hold most dear: I hardly deem you worthy of my trust presently, Captain.” 

Buggy’s gasp was melodical and pitched up two octaves higher than his usual cadence. You could feel the waves of anxiety rising within his shoulders and expressed through several strangled breaths. 

“I-I’m sorry, Lady Dracule. I didn’t think of it from your perspective and how my actions would-.” Whatever else Captain Buggy D Clown spoke after the first four words meant very little to you. Your mind looped them repetitively, the call and roll of the words felt both surreal and magical, you could hardly think about anything else. 

“-Would’ve rather stayed on shore, it would be less flashy and make the chase all the less desperate. We could turn back if-,” Buggy’s words halted as he glanced back into your eyes, noticing the distant expression with a melancholy sorrow eclipsing your painted features. “...-Are you alright, my Lady Dracule?” he asked you.

“Lady Dracule,” you repeated, your brows forming a pillar at the center of your forehead and causing a small swell to mist your eyes, “I’m Lady Dracule, now.” Buggy took a moment to glance over your features, noticing this shift of emotion permeating through your stance. 

Apprehensively, he reached his hand forward and gently caressed your shoulder. The gentle squeeze broke you out of your circulating mind, looking down and meeting the eyes of the cerulean-haired captain. 

“Can I help you out of this dress and into the assortment I crafted for you, my lady?” Buggy asked softly, watching as you nodded in affirmation for his fingers to set to work. 

“I’ll get this off in just a minute,” he whispered, his index fingers hooking through the loops in your back and slowly releasing the garment’s hold over your body, “And then we can think about your hair, and retouch your makeup. I’ll get Cabaji to bring us a bottle of the wine we swiped from the reception, too.” 

You allowed a soft giggle to fall from your parted lips, the relief from being rid of the tightness of your dress while knowing you were in capable hands. As Buggy’s fingers aided you in being free from your garment, while respectfully aiding you into the new dress, your mind wandered to your husband and what he was doing in this moment. Did he notice your departure, or was he enjoying your joint celebrations in solitude? 

-

“Where,” Mihawk’s yellow eyes glared accusingly around the guests through narrowed lenses, “Is,” he advanced, Yoru drawn with the pointed tip threatening the jugular of the Captain of the Red-Force, “My wife.” 

Lord Dracule Mihawk, distracted momentarily by his guests and acquaintances upon exiting the ceremony space, sought out your hand to claim within his. He blindly reached beside him, outstretching his desperate hands to shepherd you to his side, his fingers brushing nothing but air in its wake. 

He noticed your absence immediately.  

“Easy now, mate,” Shanks raised his arms, noticing several members of his crew withdrew their concealed weaponry and aimed it at the enraged former warlord, “Easy, easy. She’s safe, I swear this to you.” 

“Where is she?” Mihawk spat, his feet sliding into an assaulting stance, interweaving his body to draw closer to the red-head’s teasing face, “What have you done with her?” 

“She’s with Buggy- Oi, relax,” Mihawk’s pupils narrowed, his eyes wide and wild at the knowledge departing from Shanks’ lips, “She’s safe, it’s all a part of appeasing the tradition.” Shanks attempted to soothe over the growing temper Mihawk was steadily elevating, gesturing for his crew to holster their weaponry. 

“What tradition?” Mihawk barked, pressing the sharpened tip of Yoru deeper into Shanks’ neck, not quite puncturing the skin. 

“We just wanted it to be perfect, Hawk-Eyes,” Shanks’ hazelnut eyes bore with no utterance of mistruth within his orbs, “And you’re a native to Kuraigana, born and raised here. This is us following your traditions to the absolute letter: crossed ‘t’s and dotted ‘i’s, mate.” 

“Y-You’ve,” Mihawk stumbled over his words, darting his frantic eyes between Shanks’, “You’ve kidnapped my bride?” 

“You want the map to her, Lord Mihawk?” the rational voice of Shanks’ first mate rumbled through the tense air, “I had the clown make one up, for all our sakes.” Mihawk snapped his eyes away from Shanks’ to bear into the soul of Benn Beckman. As their eyes met, Beckman fished out the tanned envelope and offered it out gruffly towards the broody and aggravated newlywed groom. 

“And, are you all to just sit here and wait until I bring back my bride?” He barked at the Red-Hair crew, “Or are you coming to witness me suffer through this act of degrading humiliation?” Mihawk growled, eagerly searching through the crowd to see any contenders to refute his beckoning challenge. 

“You should take your wards,” Shanks suggested, weaving his body away from the steely tip of Yoru’s point, “Your two witnesses to view your wooing.”

Zoro leant down into Perona’s ear, his brow knit with puzzlement and concern. 

“I don’t follow, what is going on? Where’s our governess now?” Zoro quietly grunted into Perona’s ear, a giggle arising with her retort.

“Are you truly not following, or are you just saying that to be an imbecile?” Perona smirked, glancing up into Zoro’s serious eyes, “O-Oh, you’re serious? Okay!” Zoro patiently awaited his promised explanation, Perona thinking of the simplified version of this complex tradition to relay to him.

“In Kuraigana culture, the bride is either stolen or whisked away at a point in the evening - generally after the reception feast so the food doesn’t get cold. It looks like it’ll be a while yet before we get something to eat-,” Perona’s train of thought was broken with a growl from the green-haired apprentice.

“-Get on with it, Perona,” Zoro’s voice cut through the air gruffly, his eyes darting the surroundings for a clue of his governess’ whereabouts. 

“Oh, alright. Sorry, Zoro,” Perona giggled, shaking her head and preparing her words to present once again, “The bride is then hunted by the groom and they share a moment where he must perform a task or a demonstration of artistic skill to woo and entertain his new bride. Considering she is no longer under the shroud of her own family name, but a whole new person in this case: Lady Dracule, he must win her heart under this new banner and usher her into her new life with him.” 

“So, what? Is he gonna dance or something?” Zoro asked, puzzled and taken aback by the absurdity of the tradition, “Or is he gonna challenge her to a sword fight? What can he do that would woo her?” 

“Zoro-...” Perona again giggled, shaking her head with a warm smile drawing her cheeks up beneath its radiance, “...-Mihawk sings.” 

“Mihawk sings?” Zoro snapped his eyes over to Dracule Mihawk, watching as the lord of Kuraigana’s lips curled into a sinister snarl and brows furrowed deeper into rage. 

“Two witnesses, no more,” Mihawk growled, placing the mighty blade upon his back and rolling his neck, “And we shall return within the hour.” 

“Only if she’ll have you, mate,” Shanks’ grin playfully split his face, “You have to woo her. Humble yourself before her. This is your opportunity to actively pursue her,” the redhead stepped forward, clapping his right hand over Mihawk’s left shoulder. 

“You never got the chance. Use this time to show her how much you want her, and then,” Shanks’ grin turned sly, glancing at Beckman who shook his head and fished out a cigarette from his breast pocket, “That’s when we can show you how radiant she is, all wrapped in sunlight.”

Mihawk’s rumbled growl cut through the air, turning on his boot heels and gesturing to Perona and Zoro with his index finger, “You two, with me. Let us depart and reclaim my bride.” 

“Aye, sir,” Perona and Zoro spoke in unison, immediately springing into action and readying themselves for a short journey to find, woo and claim you with your title as Lady Dracule. 

Mihawk’s fuming rage catapulted him into a near frenzy, working with haste to unroll the sails and weigh anchor, using the tide to carry his small ship and snarling at the crudely crafted map.

“This better be accurate for your sake, clown,” Dracule Mihawk spat, scrunching the map and thrusting it into his shirt pocket with his left hand. Upon withdrawing his hand from his pocket, he hovered it above his face, staring at how delicately the band of unity was glimmering under the light of dusk.

It felt balanced, as if this broad band was awaiting the day he would finally wield it atop his finger. As if his life was waiting for this moment to start, for this new role and purpose for his life to fulfill. He hardened his resolve, throwing off his outer coat and withdrawing his sleeves to his elbows. He will find you, and find you quickly. 

And when he does, he will woo you. 

-

If the moon-dress was the prelude to a masterpiece in composition, this dress would be a symphony to stand the test of time. Material as pastel as the celestial rocks littering the night sky sporadically danced across the midnight material depicting the sky at nightfall. In the dim light within the cave Buggy had chaperoned you into, the dress almost looked as if it was producing its own light. 

“This is the most extravagant thing I have ever done with my life,” Buggy huffed a chuckle through his comment, “And that’s truly saying something, my lady. I’ve never done anything like this, and I’m almost jealous that I won’t be the one wearing it.”

“You’re more than welcome to borrow it for a performance, Captain,” you giggled, looking down at your arms that had been ornately decorated with chained droplets of beaded glass, “It is simply breathtaking.”

Glancing over at yourself in the reflective walls of the cave you had found yourself in, your hair was now softly falling in waterfalls against your back and your makeup retouched by the clown and his enthusiastic crew. You could hardly recognise the woman gazing back at you. 

“As breathtaking as you are, my lady,” Buggy whispered while adjusting your hair over your shoulders, “And hopefully enough to get me back into your good graces?” He shifted his eyebrow upwards, glancing hopefully over your shoulder with widened eyes and fluttering eyelashes. 

“You’re not out of the thick of it yet, dear captain,” you playfully taunted him, nose scrunched and smile growing, “It’s not only I you need to appease.” 

As if on queue, a small commotion was occurring outside the cave. Elevated voices, a shuffling of feet and the clang of harsh metal meeting rock reverberated within the cave mouth: silence following such an abrasive sound. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” Buggy repeated hurriedly, excitement and anxiety dancing in a dangerous fight for dominion over his cadence, “You take a seat on your throne and look all pretty,” he gestured with his hands flailing outwards, “I’ll finish lighting the candles,and then I’m gonna flee as fast my legs can carry me to give you two some privacy.” 

You laughed at his excitement, turning and drawing up your heavy skirts to fan out atop the velvet-covered throne Buggy had placed down for you. Frantic clicks of flint and steel, a string of nasally curses, and a shifting of boot-heels tripping over themselves as Buggy set the final elements of his role in the ruse awaiting your spouse. 

“Okay, I’m gonna-... woah,” Buggy’s words halted as he turned to view you on your throne, sitting with the elegance and radiancy that you had drilled into your many students over your career as a governess.

“‘Woah’, what, Captain Buggy?” you huffed out a small laugh, watching his eyes shifting over each element of your ensemble. 

“Y-You know,” he stuttered, shifting his feet as if under the spell of hypnosis, “You’re not technically married if you haven’t consummated your union. You can always run away with me if you want to-.”

“Buggy,” you scolded him, your laughter now falling unwithheld from your lips, “For one: I am not cut out for a path of traveling piracy,” your smile continued to decorate your lips with its radiancy, “And two: I am in love with Dracule Mihawk, my husband.” That final confession shocked you, not admitting those words aloud to yourself or another before this very moment. 

“Right, right, of course,” he laughed at himself, studying his handiwork as your skirts pooled over your feet and down the slight elevation over the rocks. The voices within the mouth of the cave continued to draw ever nearer, the agitation and anger almost tangibly felt the closer they came. 

“This is where I take my leave, my lady,” he nervously chuckled, looking to the cave mouth with his lips split into a straight wincing line, “If I stay, the broody asshole will likely attempt to take my head and throw me into the sea.”

“In that case,” you smiled, bowing your head low to the clown, “This is where I thank you for the part you played in ensuring this day was a possibility.” Buggy gasped at your bow, taking a final moment to study you as you rose from your seated curtsey.

“You are so beautiful, my lady,” he whispered, bowing to you before turning on his heels and uttering a final sentence before picking up his sprint, “Congratulations on your successful ceremony. Save me a dance at your reception.”

Chuckling at his fleeing form, you were left in only a butterfly’s wing of solitude before three figures almost stampeded within the decorated hollow of the cave. Each of them halted, eyes wide and jaws slack as they took in their surroundings. 

The ground was littered with candelabras, all lengthy wicks lit. Lighting a pathway towards the throne, tealights scattered the floor beside a long stretch of the softest white carpet. Upon the edge of the carpet, the material of your skirts pooled and the unnatural light of several stones attached to the hem illuminated the floor. Dark material shifts into soft lights at each subtle movement from your body, the stones on your arms providing a small ringing melody as you offer them a small, coy wave.  

Perona’s smile rose on her cheeks, recovering the fastest of the three as she offered you a similar wave in return for your own. Zoro snapped his lips shut, smirking as he glanced between you and your beau who continued to be stupefied beneath this new radiant presentation. 

“I have found you,” Mihawk whispered after taking a small moment to recover, “My bride, my beloved.” You smiled wider, taking a moment to study your husband as he began taking small and intentional steps towards you. 

Perona hastily and quietly ushered Zoro over to the side, taking a seat on a large boulder and tapping the surface beside her in a gesture for Zoro to sit beside her. Without removing his eyes from the scene unfolding before him, he quickly sat on the stone and awaited Mihawk’s every chosen moment. 

Electing to remain silent, you watched and hung onto every movement, utterance and breath produced as he continued on towards you. Before he fell within your proximity, he halted and inhaled a shaken breath as he humbly knelt with both knees on the floor, his hands laced and placed within his lap. Your breath hitched, eyes darted between his honey-coloured eyes which then immediately snapped shut. 

He deeply inhaled a breath, his eyes remaining closed as he focussed on his movements. He lilted a rumbled hum, a tune unfamiliar to you produced from his nose and serenading you with its melody. Mihawk was singing, and he was singing for you. 

“Never I’ve known love like this,

As vibrant as the seas.

I’ll sheathe my blade, and disarm my shield,

For a chance just to please.”

His eyes remained shut, lips almost cautiously relaying the lyrics as he produced them. After the small verse produced, his words waved more confidently through his lips and enunciated each spoken lyric. 

Perona attempted to silence her elation by slapping her hand over her lips, her other hand finding Zoro’s knee and giving it a firm squeeze to express her excitement physically. Zoro was not faring much better, his own shock written on his face he could barely notice Perona’s hand on his knee as he gripped his thighs to stifle his surprise at Mihawk’s skillful melody. 

“The way your lips summon me,

The way your eyes hold promise,

May your bed never be empty,

Should dawn be upon us.”

Mihawk’s eyes opened, his breath hitching as he witnessed the longing gaze you were offering to him. Your eyes swelled with emotions, lips parting and drawing up in a melancholy smile. Mihawk offered you a small, bashful smile as he continued to sing to you. 

Your eyes never left Mihawk for a minute, watching as he knit his brows together and continued to utter promises through melody towards you.

“I will share my days with you,

For this to you I swear.

Nightfall I be by your side,

For it’s not yours alone to bear.”

He rose his knee from his kneeling into a lunge, bowing his head down and removing his hat from his head. A final promise uttered lyrically from within his skilled melody, you holding onto each word. 

“The seas and sword were my first love,

The training alone be vast.

Although you were not my first to love,

May we both be each's last.”

Mihawk sucked in a baited breath, awaiting a small reprimand or disciplinary comment regarding his abilities. He was no singer nor composer, the lyrics produced alongside the melody were spur of the moment. His skills were of the sword, not of poetry and lyricism. 

“Do my words and melody please you?” Mihawk whispered, his eyes holding firm to the floor as his dark curls bobbed to a lower bow, “Will you allow me the luxury of my heart, my body and my soul joining with yours, Lady Dracule?”

He elevated his head, his eyes softening and rapidly blinking to stifle the rising beat of his heart as he remained in his humility. A man such as he was not accustomed to humbling himself before anyone, doing precisely as he pleased and when he pleased to do it. With you, this was uncharted and untested waters. He was in love, and would spend the rest of his days romancing you should you ask it of him. 

Truthfully, he was prepared to offer his adoration, praises and romance to you at all hours whether you asked it of him or not. 

“You may have me, I am yours,” you answered him after several moments of pregnant pause, rising to your feet and offering him your right hand to take with his left, “Just as you are mine.” Mihawk released a breath he did not know he was withholding from his chest, the weight rolling off his shoulders and having him relax beneath your admission. 

He took this moment to study your carefully painted lashes, noticing the subtle hints in tints and hues decorating your skin at the hands of the genius jester. The stars were reflected in your eyes, the pigments complimenting the change in darkened material pooling over your dress. 

“C-Can I,” he fell over his words, closing his eyes and mentally scolding himself for his stumble, “Can I kiss you, my lady?” A small squeak from the corner of the room had you both break from your illusion that this corner of reality was not yours alone to share. You also had two witnesses. 

Mihawk snapped his eyes over to the two words sitting happily on the boulder beside the decorated floor, scolding them with a single pointed look. At his momentary shift of focus, you used the opportunity to rise from your sitting position on the throne Buggy sourced for you and stooped down to collect Mihawk’s chin between your index finger and thumb. 

You shifted his face back, witnessing the momentary shock as he gazed into your eyes. With a soft smile, you lowered your face and collected his lips with your own. Although he was kneeling, Mihawk was a tall individual. This position did not have your neck aching at its stoop, but was comfortable as you slowly pressed more of yourself against the former warlord. 

Mihawk wrapped his arms around your waist, bunching the fabric within his hands and holding you firmly pressed against him. He parted his lips, his tongue darting out to dampen your bottom lip as he squeezed your hips within his wide fingers. You hummed against his lips, your fingers raking over his beard to entangle within his curled locks. He smiled into the kiss, rising from the floor and fully bracing himself against you with his forearms circling your waist. 

The ruffles of the skirts below you illuminated several of the rocks littering the material, a gasp fleeing from Perona the longer she stared at the balled objects adoring the fabric.

“The rocks light up when they move!” she hushed her whisper to Zoro who waved his hand to silence her as he witnessed the loving embrace between his lord and lady. Although Zoro would never admit it aloud, he was enjoying every minute of witnessing such joy between two people he held most dear. 

Breaking from the kiss, your eyes half lidded as they gazed up at your husband. His expression mirrored your own, gazing lovingly down at you with a soft smile gently creasing the corners of his eyes. 

“Let’s go home,” Mihawk whispered, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead and hovering his lips over your skin as he cradled your head against his chest, “I hope Shanks and his crew have left as some wine.”

“I’m more concerned about the food,” you giggled, prompting Mihawk to break away from your forehead and smooth his hands over your hair, “All I’ve had to eat and drink today is that single piece of honeycomb, a glass of wine for breakfast, that small sip of unity wine shared with you, and a glass of wine with the clown when he prepared me in this ensemble.” His eyes widened, looking into your smiling face in shock. You laughed up at him, raising your hand up to caress his cheek.

“You’ve only had wine and honeycomb for the whole day, my beloved?” his tone held a small air of caution within.

“Yes, my heart,” you huffed out a small sigh of laughter at witnessing his agitation. Although his anger never left, the small twitch of his lip and hitch in his breath indicated his pleasure of receiving such a high honor of that title. 

“Well that will simply not do,” he growled, shifting you in his grip to slip his arm around your waist and usher you through the cave mouth, “I have some sourdough and salted butter on the ship. We’ll break into that before we partake in the reception feast.” You smiled up at your husband, watching as he wordlessly gestured for your two wards to follow behind you. 

Where Perona could not stop staring at your dress, the only thing within Zoro’s focus was how you looked up at Mihawk, and how Mihawk looked down at you. The love you held for each other within that expression alone had a pang sound within his heart, and caused soft doubts to shift his perspective. 

Whether spoken aloud to you or not, Zoro’s quest in becoming the world's greatest swordsman would one day rip this fresh union apart. He would kill Mihawk to claim that title, and that would surely mean the destruction of your happiness.

As you made your way through the sandy coast and onto Mihawk’s vessel, Zoro continued to seek out different ways to achieve his goals and leave you both to thrive in your happiness. 

-

From the peaceful drift into the Kuraigana port, to the reunification with your guests, Mihawk would not allow you a moment to break away from him. Hollars and cheers at your arrival were quickly silenced as they took in the next aspect of your ensemble. 

Now exposed under the light of the moon, at each small movement of your legs beneath the dark skirt, the illumination of bioluminescent rocks shook and roared to life. The fanning material danced at your feet, the weight of the many layers of broad skirts heavy upon each footstep. You truly appreciated Mihawk’s presence at your side to enable you to lean against him for support each time the gown pulled at your waist and hips.

Your bodice was encrusted with similar trails of glassy stones, the overlaying chains from your neck to your waist forming the unity of constellations between both yours and Mihawk’s birth signs. Buggy had put an excessive amount of thought into such a piece, pooling all his knowledge to provide you the best reiteration of starlight he could truly muster. 

The outdoor reception space was littered with soft strings of light, a circular wooden floor elevated a step up as a makeshift dance area. Several clusters of seats were available off to the sides of the wooden floor they were standing on, where a small quartet of musicians lay off to the side of the area and softly painting the air with their melodical portraiture. 

Mihawk paid his guests little mind, other than a curt nod or a subtle smile to your former students. The many staff continued to present platters of bite-sized ensembles, each small taste of food attuned to both yours and Mihawk’s refined palates. Each time a tray was presented to you, you would break your conversation away from your guests and thank the staff with a warm smile on your face.

As he showcased you to his guests, he watched as the fatigue of the day was slowly catching up with you. The little stumble of your feet under the weight of the dress, the small waver in your smile when you assumed none were watching, the way you clung to his side: he was observant of your every moment and there at your side to catch you should you fall. He was yours to do with what you will, clay awaiting molding into the husband you desired him to be. 

Music began to play at a more elevated volume, the guests encouraging you with a soft cheer to get you to open the dance floor together. Mihawk looked subtly off to you, noticing you were struggling beneath the layers of your skirts. No matter how vast your training in becoming a debutant yourself, nothing could have prepared you to carry the amount of weight from rocks of various shapes and sizes. 

“Beloved, are you-,” Mihawk began, his short question being stolen from him by the nasally interruption of Captain Buggy D Clown. 

“-If I may, my lady Dracule,” Buggy’s broad, painted smile laid brilliantly over his lips, “I have a small surprise for you.” 

“Oh?” you asked, brows elevating up your forehead in curiosity. 

“Your resume presented to the world government several years back indicated you were an excellent dancer, trained the best of them attending here today, in fact,” he complimented you bowing in a low and crouched stoop.

“I am a competent dancer, yes,” you admitted, eyeing him curiously as he picked at your hem with his gloveless fingers, “And I do enjoy the movement when the moment is called upon.” 

“Then it would be such a shame should the moment be taken from you under the weight of this dress, my lady,” Buggy smirked up at you, a silver object playfully juggling between his fingertips. Before you realized what the object was, Buggy precautioned both you and Mihawk, “Bird-Boy, stand back. My lady, close your eyes and hold your breath.” 

Immediately doing what you were told, you heard the ignition of a flint-lighter and the warm flash of open flame illuminating your eyelids to a deep crimson color. Gasps and screams from your guests informed you of all you needed to comprehend at this moment.

Captain Buggy D Clown had lit your dress on fire. 

A wild rush of heat expanded over the base of your skirt, the tongues of blaze lapping at your skin and immediately cooled with bursts of icey air. As you felt the rising warmth begin to die down, you opened your eyes to witness the small, illuminant rocks burst and break to soothe over the licks of flame. Upon each burst of impact, the color of your dress would change to a crisp white, to a warm blue, down to a dark hue of red, all the way to a dim purple. 

At the last burst of rock sparking and spurting over the gown, the arrangement that remained was a softer, pale dress that halted just below your knees. The slit from the hem on your left side tastefully elevated to just below the angle your thigh met at the curvature of your hips. The dress fanned out, dipping in at your waist and cinching in your bust. There were no remaining rocks nor combustive fabric on your body, much to your delight. 

After you adjusted to your new weight distribution, feeling lighter and more energetic already, the picture you were left with standing before you was Buggy’s throat being impaled on the smaller blade formerly hung around your husband’s neck. Your eyes widened and your body moved faster than your mind did to halt the scene unfolding before you. 

“First you kidnap my wife, now you light her on fire?” Mihawk barked, slashing at his throat while Buggy stuttered over his words, “It seems as if you are trying so desperately to get me to kill you, Clown. I should have you flogged and cast into the seas for your idiocy-.”

“-My heart, I am unharmed,” your voice broke him away from his heavy threats, his hands immediately withdrawing from the clown to cradle your cheeks within his palms. You kept your face calm, reassuring him with your expression alone that you remained unaltered and unharmed. 

He floated his eyes between yours, briefly dipping to your lips before withdrawing back up to your eyes. You nodded within his hands in an act to reassure him further, your smile never faltering. After a hushed moment’s pause, Mihawk could no longer contain himself.

Hastily, he dipped his face down, lips colliding with yours and drawing several cheers from your guests. He hungrily consumed your lips, molding and shaping them beneath his with the desperation you were yet to see its equal. He swooped his hands behind your head, collecting the soft waves Buggy had created for you in fistfuls as he desperately joined his lips with yours. You slowly raked your hands over his waist, holding him close and reassuring him with soft circles against his body with your thumbs. 

Squeaking against his lips at a small tug of your hair, Mihawk immediately loosened his aggressive grasping of your against you, and softly traced his fingertips over your jaw and set to cradle the scruff of your neck. The world faded from existence the longer Mihawk held you against his lips, folding himself against you and holding you in momentary blissful stasis. 

Withdrawing his lips from yours, he gazed into your eyes while briefly panting to catch his breath. Shock eclipsed your features the exact moment you broke away, the cheers from your guests ignited the silence within the ringing of your ears. 

“That was a good ‘en, Hawkie!” Shanks swayed in his speech as he slurred in his stupor, “Do it again!” 

“Quiet down, Captain,” Beckman grunted, gently clapping Shanks on the shoulder, “That’s our exterminator you’re talking about. She deserves a little more respect than you’re offering the both of them presently.” 

“Right, right. I’ll switch to water for a bit, Becks,” Shanks nodded, looking over at his crew and gesturing to the water barrels with his tankard. Mihawk never strayed his eyes from your features, constantly ensuring you were unharmed from the prior blaze. 

“May I dance with you, my beloved?” Mihawk quietly offered, removing his hand from your neck and apprehensively outstretching his hands to you. You smiled at his soft gesture, immediately placing your right hand within his left and allowed him to chaperone you onto the dance floor. 

At the swell of music, you hastily pressed your right hand against Mihawk’s left shoulder while he elevated your right hand to extend to the side. His left hand found the middle of your waist and pulled you against himself. 

You carefully extended your left knee over Mihawk’s leg, the slit withdrawing itself tastefully to reveal your thigh to your guests. At that gesture, Mihawk immediately readjusted his stance: shifting to claim the base of your thigh within his hands as he awaited the appropriate rhythm to dictate his momentum.

“The Clown read your resume,” Mihawk smirked down at you, beginning to shift and maneuver you effortlessly within his arms, “But alas, I have not.” He nudged you with his left hand, following his lead by twirling your body within his arms and releasing his hold over you. 

Both legs now firmly on the ground, you shifted your hips and began to rhythmically follow the melody rising with your feet. Holding your arms perpendicular to the ground, Mihawk collected your left hand and pressed a small kiss atop your wrist before raking his digits over your forearm. 

“You never read my resume before you hired me?” You called over your shoulder, as he raised your left hand to cradle his neck behind you. 

“Never,” Mihawk smiled, placing his right hand over your right and his left over your stomach. He began ushering you both with a rapid sway of his steps, a maneuver you flawlessly followed with each stride. He twirled you away, holding contact with your right arm before reclaiming it in his left hand. 

“Then,” your puzzled expression remained atop your features as you once again faced Mihawk, “Why was I hired here? What drew you to me?” Your beau’s smile elevated, his eyes cracking at the corners as his nose scrunched upwards.

“Truthfully, my beloved,” he confessed, leaning forwards to indicate for you to fall backwards in your steps, “I am not certain what drew me to you. A feeling, I suppose.”

“A feeling?” you elevated your eyebrow and smirked up at him, “Something as simple as a feeling?” 

Mihawk chuckled, twirling you away from him and catching your forearms within his grip, ushering your back to meet his chest. You huffed out a small exasperated breath, shaking your head and swaying with him to the rhythm.

“A feeling,” you repeated in a whisper, attempting to not allow your disdain from presenting too prominently against your features. Mihawk released your right arm, leaning forward and collecting your chin between his thumb and index finger. 

“Allow me the luxury of rephrasing, my beloved,” Mihawk whispered, drawing your forehead to press against his while he moved his body from behind yours to face you once more. 

Drawing up his left hand, he collected your right and his right hand found your back once more. His smile continued to highlight his face, a smile you had come to adore painted on his face beneath his mustache. 

“From the moment I met you all those years ago, I adored you as a skilled governess,” he confessed, stepping backwards while you followed with your forward step, “The way you managed a variety of individuals: debutants, gentlemen and all those in between. Even the witless marines-.”

“-Mihawk,” your warning tone was broken with a small laugh, your smirking reprimand forming a smile over your lips, “Be kind.”

“Apologies, my beloved,” he snickered out a small chuckle, ushering for you to step outwards before hooking you back into his arms, “I never assumed you would accept a job at such short notice in the first place.”

“I had a lull in my waiting list,” you shrugged, turning to face him with a broader smile on your face, “And the stuttering scribbles were intriguing.” Mihawk laughed at your reference to his original summons for you to begin your tutelage of the two wards under his care. 

As the melody swelled, he sighed out a breath, once again placing your forehead against his own and furrowing his brows. In a low whisper, he relayed his final confession to you. There was no room for humor, nor was there a place for the utterance of a lie within his breath. 

“Before there was a possibility of joining with you in matrimony, I simply thought: ‘that was that. Time to live my life as an unmarried swordsman until the next generation rises up to claim that title from me’,” he smiled, halting his movement as the music ended its swell,  “I never thought I would be training that aforementioned generation to take my life, nor did I imagine this twist of circumstances leading you to be within my arms now.” 

You smiled a melancholy smile, only half elevated on your face at his confession. Trailing your hand over his shoulder, you extended it up to collect his whiskered cheek within your palm, soothing over his bottom lip with your thumb. 

“And is this the life you wanted for yourself, Mihawk?” you whispered up at your beloved, searching his eyes for more truth within, “To live in momentary matrimonial peace before Zoro claims your title alongside your life?” 

“This is the life that I have forged for myself,” he whispered against your thumb, pressing a kiss against the padded tip, “And I will hold onto it with every breath I still use to sustain my lungs. I love you, my wife. I am yours, and you are mine, for as long as we both shall live,” he withdrew your hand from his lips and circled it over his neck, “And for whatever comes next.” 

“For whatever comes next,” you mirrored back with closed eyes and lips parted, “Sounds like an awfully exciting adventure, my heart.” Reopening your eyes, you witnessed the smile once again return to Mihawk’s lips. 

At the music’s end, he swooped down to claim another kiss from you. Applause rang through the air, prompting you to part from the oscillation as hastily as you had it begin. The Red-Hair pirate crew and the Buggy-Pirates had begun offering each other their outstretched hands to lead them onto the dance floor. 

You felt a small tap on your shoulder at the exact moment a soft, pale hand with pink-polished fingernails brushed with Mihawk’s own shoulder. You shook your head, confused as you were ushered into the awaiting arms and broad shoulders of Roronoa Zoro. 

His smile was shallow, his mind plagued behind it with the smog of heavy thoughts. Extending out his hand, you took it and curtseyed as he bowed with you. Ushering you to circle the floor with a practiced waltz, Zoro continued to twirl you in silence. 

“You have gotten much better, Zoro,” you complimented him, met with only a single hum in acknowledgement. You furrowed your brows, glancing between his bourbon-hued orbs while he refused to draw his gaze up to meet yours. 

“Did you enjoy the drinks? I have yet to sample the wine presented at the reception-,” you were cut off as Zoro’s thoughts spoke atop your own.

“-I am going to claim his life from him, do you understand?” he gruffly commented, glaring over at Perona and Mihawk as he spun her within his arms with a broad grin and her unwithheld smile mirroring in return, “I intend to kill lord Dracule Mihawk.” You almost stumbled in your dance, recovering quickly as he continued to twirl you. 

After taking a moment to collect your rapidly lashing thoughts, you inhaled a large gulp of breath and extended your exhale slowly through your lips.

“If that is what your destiny is leading you to fulfill,” you reached up your hand and collected his cheek, turning him to meet your eyes, “It is not for me to understand, nor is it my desire to halt you from achieving your goal.” He gasped at your words, stumbling over his feet and barely recovering.

“You won’t ask me not to?” Zoro’s breath hitched on his exhale, searching your eyes for any cause for further stumble, “You won’t plead for me to find a new goal? To settle for being second best and remain that way until we’re all cracked and graying?” 

Giggling at his comment, you extended your arm out and circled it over his head: twirling the conflicted man within your arms.

“I married the ‘World’s Greatest Swordsman’, Dear,” you noted, your smile never wavering as you rejoined him within your arms, “It is an occupational hazard.” 

Zoro’s surprise lingered on his features, his eyes misting over with the swell of emotions he did not prepare himself to express this night. 

“And between us-,” you leant up to his ear, using this opportunity to draw him into a warm and encumbering embrace, “-I would rather it be you. You are someone we both trust,” you withdrew him from your arms and smiled whimsically up at him, “Someone who will grant him the luxury of a swift and merciful departure from this life, should you both be ready to take that step.” 

Where you assumed he would grunt out a gruff groan, you were shocked when he leant further into your arms and circled his forearms around your waist. He nuzzled into your neck, his shoulders beginning to sink against the weight of his confliction. 

“You trust me?” he choked within his soft whisper, “You trust me to give him an honorable death?” His shoulders shuddered within your arms, you immediately drew your hands up to caress his moss-coloured locks. 

“Of course I trust you, Zoro. Just, if you were to grant me one simple favor,” he withdrew from your embrace, continuing to hold your waist as he stared down and awaited further instruction, “Please don’t kill him tonight?” Zoro’s laughter cut through the air, drawing many eyes over to your location as you joined him in his unbridled laughter. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my lady,” he chuckled, briefly joining his forehead against your own and scrunching his nose with his smile. 

“Good boy,” you complimented him with a single tap on his shoulder, “And your dancing really has improved.” You nodded to his feet, noticing how effortlessly he was shepherding you throughout the movements.

“I learnt from the best, my lady,” he winked down at you, his golden drooped earrings glinting within the refraction of the lights. 

As the melody crescendoed from one song into the next, you twirled from within Zoro’s arms and immediately met your right hand against a cool piece of metal, curving beneath your fingertips. 

“If I may, my lady,” the cool rumble of Sir Crocodile reverberated within your chest and shot a tingle up your spine. Although no malice was withheld in his tone, the danger was always present with a man such as he. 

“Sir Crocodile,” you nodded, focussing your body on allowing him to lead you throughout the floor, “I would like to take the opportunity to thank you for your beautiful dress you crafted for me.” 

“I do plan on collecting that debt from the both of you, my lady,” he smirked down at you with a broad grin. His eyes held a bored malice within his purple orbs, hunching down to claim your body within his arms. The impressive height he towered over you had you feeling smaller within his grasp, an advantage you planned on gaining back from him with your wit. 

“And what would you ask of me, Sir?” you smiled up at him, twirling within his arms and circling your body around his back. You drew your fingers over his flesh, watching the visible shudder arising beneath the movement, “I am a simple governess-.”

“-You are Lady Dracule, now,” he retorted, gazing down at you through the corner of his eyes, “A lady who has sway and leverage over a lord. A lady who holds the heart of such a man as he, the ‘World’s Greatest Swordsman’. A lady who-.” You hastily pressed your fingers atop the golden hook, your eyes baring dangerously into his own.

“-Who was and forever will be-,” your low tone had Crocodile taken aback at your statement, “-A simple governess.” 

“And what would a simple governess be able to offer me?” his amused grin parted his lips and elevated his brows. The silvery mark over his cheeks and nose had the purple hues holding more danger within their orbs, “Music and dance lessons, I have hardly a use for.” 

“A governess who has done all a governess could do here,” you smiled up at him, leading him into a twirl, your spin prompting almost a laugh to fall from his lips, “Tamed and trained two unruly youths, along with having one of the world’s most powerful men fall to their knees and beg to claim me as their own.” 

The smirk of Sir Crocodile rose on his lips, his words beginning to form behind his teeth only to be halted by a final word of warning from you.

“Whenever you desire such a woman to perform such an impossible and improbable task as this,” you silenced him with your words, “You know where I will be.” 

At that, you bowed a low curtsey to him and attempted to flee from his arms, only for the hook to catch the crook of your elbow and tug you back into his arms for his final words.

“An expert tamer of unruly individuals,” he whispered in your ear, the ghost of his last cigar lingering on his lips as his breath met with the shell of your ear, “I shall keep you in mind for when such a purpose arises.” Unclasping your arm from within his hook, Sir Crocodile took his leave of you with a final bow. 

You shook off his words, the next partner finding themselves within your arms whipped their cerulean hair against your cheek as they spun you on your toes three times in a circle. 

“I truly am sorry about the kidnapping, my lady,” Buggy uttered with a warm smile, “And I am only partly apologetic for the glorious blaze.” Although you had met both Buggy and Sir Crocodile at the same time, you felt much more comfortable being wielded within his arms than the experience prior.

Buggy released you, clapped his hands three times and stomped his feet rhythmically to the music. You laughed, mirroring his posture and his rhythm back at him. His eyes widened, heart swelling at you matching his exaggerated movements and prompting him to produce some far more elaborate motions. 

He was a joy to dance with, his own starlight shining within his teal eyes and reflecting back onto his various assortment of formal attire. Although no longer wearing a frill-neck collar, his cravat had just as many ruffles fluffing at his jaw. 

“I am not sorry in the slightest for either,” you admitted, your own nod and spin on your toes keeping Buggy mirroring your movements first before stepping in again to claim you in his arms. 

“Not even the kidnapping?” he winced out a small apprehensive grin.

“No, it was an enjoyable experience,” you confessed, laughing in his arms as he assumed the waltz position and stepped in time to the swell of music, “I especially enjoyed the wine.”

“Then you have found the perfect match in Mihawk,” he nodded, scrunching up his nose at the thought, “Personally, I don’t know how you both drink that vinegary piss. I prefer the sweets to compliment and mask my saltiness. Rum is best.” 

“I thank you for your compliments, captain,” you smiled at him.

“About the vinegary piss?” his brows furrowed in confusion, his smile scrunching into a soft pout. You laughed at his comment, shaking your head at him.

“About the perfect match,” you confessed, feeling the end of the music calling to you. Buggy chuckled, offering you a small bow before dismissively waving his hand at you and uncharacteristically turning on his heel. 

You were puzzled at that final gesture, not understanding where such an expression was necessary before you felt a hand clasp around your waist.

“‘S not you, love,” the voice of a red-haired captain uttered beside you, “He still is hung up on our old childhood rivalry.” 

“Ah,” you gasped in understanding with a curt nod, turning in his arm to face him. Dancing with Shanks was an occurrence you were privy to experiencing from time to time aboard the Red-Force with his crew. His attitude was always playful and light with you, always a gentleman. 

“You truly look spectacular tonight, Vile Exterminator,” he complimented you, shifting his dancing position to usher you with his right hand in light of his missing left hand. Joining now both of your right hands, you both stepped in and out before twirling under his arm. 

“Thank you, Red-Haired Rat,” you smirked at him, feeling a pair of eyes watching you dance within Shanks’ arms. 

“I think the big man wants a word,” Shanks confirmed your suspicions, nodding over to his steel-haired first mate, extinguishing his cigarette with his boot heel against the gravel road beside the dancefloor. Shanks twirled you twice more before you were flung from his arm and into the awaiting and ill-practiced hands of Benn Beckman.

“Sorry, my lady,” he uttered, his legs awkwardly swaying him from side to side with you within his arms, “I’m no good at this formal dancin’. I don’t do this.” 

“I know, Benn,” you smiled at him with a soft, close-lipped grin, “But I do appreciate the effort.” He hummed with a curt cough in response, truly feeling out of place with this genre of dance. 

“About what’s to come,” he gruffly coughed, attempting to spin you on the dancefloor as easily as he could ask his body to perform such a skill, “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” You sighed out a small huff of breath, shaking your head at him as he continued to explain to you.

“There’s a lot of knots,” he confessed with a winced, grimacing smile, “I mean, a lot of knots.” 

“I trust you,” you shrugged, feeling his tension rising in his shoulders and stance. You halted the elaborate dance, ushering him off to the side of the dancefloor and opting to sway with him to the beat while he aired his concerns.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with the experience,” he confessed, the gray tint of his eyes holding you firmly within his vision, “Some of the knots are in-... -a few key places.” 

Your rapid and unwavering blink told Beckman all he needed to know regarding his apprehension. 

“It was my own fault for asking this in the first place, Benn,” you confessed again with a shrug, “And, I reiterate: I trust you. We’ve known each other for years, and of all those aboard the Red-Force,” you feigned a small hum of deep thought, before smiling up at the burly first-mate, “I do trust you the most.” 

“I hope your trust isn’t misguided, my lady,” he grunted, your left hand being claimed by a presence at your side. The small, almost invisible smile, from Beckman informed you that the Rat was once again at your side. 

“And, she’s mine again,” Shank’s playful tone cut in, peeling you away from Beckman and onto the dancefloor once more. He ushered you into a skilled twirl, your smile once again returning to your face as the swell of music reached the peak and began its crescendo towards the final. 

As Shanks made to draw you into another embrace at his chest, you felt the tug of your waist pull you back within familiar and comfortable arms. A warm smile and a flush rose to your cheeks, humming as you lent into his chest.

“Missed me, beloved?” the man behind you held an air of confidence, turning you within his arms as you looked up at him through half-hooded eyes.

“Always, my heart,” you retorted, elevating your arms to seek out the nape of his neck. He hummed at your confession, mirroring your adoration down at you, “Shall we have a rest? Enjoy some mead and begin the fire?”

“A fire?” the elated voice of the cerulean-haired clown-captain called out in joy, “We’re having a fire like the good old days?” Shanks hesitantly walked beside Buggy, offering him a small smile and confirming with him.

“Just like the old days,” Shanks nodded, looking between Buggy and Mihawk, “Back when Roger made us collect the wood, but wouldn’t let us near the flint and steel.” 

“And look who’s got the spark now, boys!” Buggy’s crackled cackle and his powerful stance prompted laughs to rise among the guests. Beckman shook his head, wordlessly directing the Red-Hair crew to begin building a fire for you and your husband to enjoy. 

You nuzzled into the warm and exposed chest of your husband, feeling the weight shift from you against him as he slightly elevated you off your feet. 

“I think sitting down is a good idea,” you confessed, looking down at your worn shoes and rapidly swelling feet from the elaborate dancing and carrying the weighty dress.

“Then that is what we will do, my beloved,” Mihawk smiled softly down at you, pressing his forehead against your own as he enjoyed the feeling of holding you in his arms once again.

-

Sitting within the arms of your husband, the crackle of the fire illuminated the guests that remained behind at the castle, some setting up bedrolls and pitching tents within the surroundings. 

Mihawk hooked his arm around your shoulder, drawing you against himself and pressing soft kisses against your temple while whispering sweet phrases and poetry within your ear. His beard tickled at each short utterance, prompting a giggle to fall from not only the words, but the feeling of his beard against your skin.

Shanks was the first to notice the small lull in atmosphere, a fiendish grin finding purchase against his lips as he refilled his tankard from the barrel of mead. 

“Alright, you lot. According to the customs of Kuraigana,” Shank’s stumbling and partially inebriated voice slurred, “We all know what comes next for you two. We’ve ‘gotta follow all of the traditions of the land. You know, so the ghostly hag is happy.”

“What are you implying, Red-Hair,” Mihawk’s prior warm tone cracked under its now icey exterior, “Surely you don’t mean-.”

“-Why the ‘Bedding Ceremony’ of course!” Shanks attempted to rise to his feet, stumbling backwards and momentarily sitting upon the lap of his first mate, who apprehensively caught him. “Thanks big man,” he mumbled, rising successfully to his feet and thrusting out his tankard, “You go up there with your Sunshine bride, and we wait out here and make as much noise as we can while you perform your husbandly duties.” 

A warm flush rose to your cheeks, littering your face with the warmth of blood swelling to the tips of your ears. You could feel the rapid pulse beating in your eardrums, your heart stampeding your racing mind of all thoughts of what was yet to come. 

“Then you come and rejoin us as one flesh,” Shanks concluded, saluting Mihawk with his broad tankard, “And we drink to the happy couple, and carry off our celebrations into the wee hours of the morn.”

“Is this truly a custom of this land, my heart?” you uttered quietly to the broody bearded man at your side, his attention snapping over towards you. His eyes softened as his heart swelled, lips parting while drawing up his right hand to caress your cheek.

“Unfortunately it is, my beloved,” he whispered with a half-smile, “And a custom we need not adhere to should you find discomfort in such a feat.” 

You allowed a small giggle to fall from your lips, leaning into Mihawk’s gentle caress and pressing a soft kiss on the heel of his palm.

“It could be worse,” you allowed the giggle to rise in volume as your smile broadened, “In Germa-Kingdom, the guests watch the act while they throw sugar-coated almonds at the newlyweds in the hopes it will aid in producing male offspring.” You placed your hand over Mihawk’s, his still holding your cheek as his smile mirrored your own. 

“I suppose this custom is not so bad, then,” Mihawk chuckled, rising to his feet and offering you out his hand, “Shall we, my beloved?”

“I suppose it is time,” you smiled in return, placing your hand within his and allowing him to hoist you up from your position on the log. Mihawk’s brows creased, mild agitation forming at the center of his forehead. Before you could ask him what was bothering him, he turned his head to Beckman: who was already rising to stand. 

The blush returned as your eyes widened, almost forgetting what you had requested of the cursed moss-agate ring on your unity finger. 

“Beckman,” Mihawk’s agitation growing in depth as the hoarse growl rumbled in his throat, “In light of the fact this is part of the covenant pact forged with the ring-.”

“-I would not lay a single finger unnecessarily on your wife, lord Mihawk,” Beckman’s whiskey voice hummed as he inhaled his cigarette to the filter end, “Would you prefer it be Shanks in his current stupor using his right hand and teeth?”

“Absolutely not,” Mihawk barked at the suggestion.

“Then I will make it quick and precise,” Beckman reassured him with a curt nod, “Follow up in twenty minutes, and your bride will be awaiting you to unwrap her within your marriage bed.” 

Beckman outstretched the crook of his elbow, a satchel containing what you presumed to be your sun-dress shrugged over his shoulder. You apprehensively withdrew your hand from Mihawk’s, giving him one more longing look before you allowed yourself to be ushered into the halls of Castle Kuraigana. 

You both walked in silence, unsure of what words needed to be spoken between you before you engaged in this next aspect of your night together. The silence was peaceful, the soft tranquility you had not experienced since beginning this venture of matrimony. You were almost thankful this moment was granted to you to share with one of your most respected acquaintances in your time as a governess. 

He chaperoned you into the halls, finding the door that led into the suite allocated to both you and Mihawk as the lord and lady of Kuraigana. In the wake of the soft tranquility, anxiety at the anticipation of what’s to come awoke within your chest. Your heart elevated its rhythmic thundering, your mind beginning to swirl and race as the anticipation only grew.

“Take a moment, my lady,” Beckman’s soothing voice hummed at you, “All the time you need, alright? It’s a lot of changes to adjust to, and I would never dream of rushing you.” 

“Thank you, Benn,” you exhaled, rolling your neck and attempting to stifle the rise in your anxious thoughts. After a few small breaths, you reopened your eyes and smiled to yourself as you felt finally ‘ready’ to begin this new chapter of your life. 

The door shut behind the first-mate of the Red-Hair pirates, you made your way behind the dressing screen. You silently thanked Buggy for ensuring this garment was easier for you to remove than the one prior, but anticipation rose in your chest as Beckman revealed a satchel to you. 

“This is going to be extremely difficult to do whilst blindfolded, my lady,” he gruffly chuckled, retrieving several golden strands of linked chains from within the canvas bag, “Are you certain this is adhering to the covenant you made with the aetherial pest?” 

“To quote my own words, Benn,” you shook your head and straightened your shoulders, “‘Sunlight: a dress that meets the intensity of the sun with its rays of gold and copper. An accumulation of material so outrageously forbidden, it be intended for your eyes alone with its purpose. A dress so scantily designed that you will find none to ever match its equal in both color and provocative appearance’.” Your voice mocked your own recollection, prompting Beckman to chuckle at your tone.

“Well then, there may be a small hiccup in our plan,” he shrugged, taking out a strip of lengthy material and beginning to fold it in half. Upon measuring the half-width, Beckman used his canine teeth to puncture the fabric and tear it into two, thick strips. 

“What do you mean, Benn?” your eyes followed his movements with both intrigue and curiosity.

“For his eyes alone,” he quoted back at you, chuckling as he handed you one of the strips, “Looks like I won’t be the only one experiencing sensory deprivation in this little encounter, my lady.” Taking the fabric from his outstretched hands, your brows knit together before the realization hit you. 

“You’ll have to wear a blindfold too.” 

[lecl3rcw]

Omg love the idea!! I’m thinking she surprises him at the silverstone gp? Like his mum brought her to come see him and she runs down the paddock to him and he spots her and crouches down and showers her in kisses and its just all fluff😭 She gets introduced to drivers, being a little shy, but opens up to one specifically? So cute!! Maybe shes like 5/6?

STARSTRUCK | LANDO NORRIS

Pairings: Lando Norris x sister!reader

Summary: Lando’s younger sister surprises him at the silverstone gp!

Warnings: I don’t really think there are any loll.

____________________________________________

“So Lando, how does it feel to be racing at your home grandprix” Lissie asks,

“I’m very excited, the support that I get at silverstone is unlike any others and I have my whole family here to watch me, well not my whole family, my younger sister Y/N will be missing but yes I’m excited to see what the race holds for me” Lando says, his smile widening at the mention of his younger sister.

“Wonderful! Good luck for the race” she says as he walks away waving at the fans. Little did he know, his family had a surprise planned for him.

As Lando walks in the garage, he spots his family, their backs were turned to him but he could spot her pigtails from miles away. When the girl turned around she immediately let out a squeal as she forcefully freed herself from her father’s grip to embrace her older brother.

“Y/N!!” He says lifting the girl up into the air, a giggle escapes her as her arms cage around his neck, her body resting on his hip. “I missed you so much” he says nuzzling her cheek with his nose, “I missed you too!!” she says tightening her arms around him.

“We just wanted to surprise you, Y/N missed you a lot” Adam says as he squishes his little girl’s cheeks to which she giggles at. Lando interacted with the rest of the family with his sister still resting at his hip. The little girl had always been on the shyer side and everyone around her knew that.

“Do you want to go meet the other drivers Y/N?” Lando asks her, her eyes immediately brightened up, “Yeah!” She says, he chuckles as he kisses her cheek.

Lando carried the young girl out of the hospitality and into the very lively paddock, it was the first time her family brought her to the paddock so it was natural for the young girl to feel overwhelmed by all the people, and the loud clicking of the cameras.

“Hey mate” someone calls out to Lando, as he turns around he sees Carlos, “Hey Daniel!” He responds as the girl shyly waves at the older man. He chuckles as he pinches her cheek, “and who’s this cutie here?” He asks him, “this is my youngest sister, Y/N” he says, a smile adorning his face, any one could see the love he held for his baby sister.

“Hey Y/N, it’s so nice to meet you!” Daniel exclaims, the girl shyly burries her face in her brother’s neck making both the men chuckle,

Soon enough a bunch of drivers had gathered around her, but she was in search of one driver, and once she spotted him, she screamed his name out.

“Lano! Look it’s Carlos” she pointed at him, Y/N has always been fond of Carlos considering he’s the only driver she’s met before. “Yeah it’s Carlos!” He says as he takes the eager girl to meet her second (1st) favorite driver.

“Hey Y/Nie!” Carlos says as he immediately takes the girl from Lando’s hold, “oh my, you’ve grown so big” he coos rocking the girl back and forth which made her giggle.

“I played golf” she says pridefully thinking back to the time when she saw her brother and Carlos playing golf, which made her want to play.

“I’m so proud of you! You’re better than Lando I’m sure” He whispers in her ear which makes her giggle, Carlos decides to play mind games on Lando, so he looks at Lando and whispers something in the little girls ears to chick she giggles again and nods.

“Ok Carlos that’s enough, give me my sister back” Lando says rolling his eyes, Carlos chuckles before transferring the girl back Into her brother’s arms, “remember what I said Y/Nie, good luck today Lando” He days before walking away to his hospitality.

“What’d he tell you Y/N?”

“I’m not telling”

“Oh cmon you little traitor”

“Nope”

“I’ll give you a strawberry macaroon”

“…..Fine”

[cutielando]

hiii could you please do dating head cannons with ollie bearman? ❤️

dating headcannons | o.b.

my masterlist

sweethearts

sweetest boyfriend ever

so supportive of him in everything that he does

you would take time off of school to be able to attend some of his races

his family always includes you in everything they do, his father always asking you to make sure to keep Ollie under control when they couldn’t be there

besties with everyone at Prema

you would be his biggest cheerleader

he would take you out on dates every chance he got

he didn’t have that much money to spend on you because he was only in F2, but he would take every chance he got to buy you things

he was apprehensive of introducing you to his fans at first, but was very glad when he finally did

everyone loved you, they could see how happy you made Ollie and how down-to-earth you were, automatically helping keep your boyfriend grounded amidst the chaos

you guys were still young, barely 18 years old, but Ollie already knew that he was going to marry you one day

he was down bad, but you were just as deeply in love with him

you were still new to the motorsport world, so you haven’t got used to the stress that came with watching Ollie drive at ungodly speeds every other weekend, hoping that the race would go smoothly and nothing would happen

yours and his parents made everything better, always eager to help ease your nerves whenever you needed them to

you were with him in Saudi Arabia when he was pulled away from his F2 race to drive for Ferrari in F1 in Carlos’ place

when he got the call that morning, it didn’t feel real to either of you

it was a huge step for him, having only driven an F1 car on a couple occasions before, and this was really on short notice and out of the blue

you were very worried, to say the least

the jump from F2 to F1 was very big, F1 being a lot more demanding, hard and dangerous altogether

you knew Ollie could handle it, but you still couldn’t help the anxiety settling deep into your veins as you watched him from the Ferrari garage along with his dad

despite your concerns, Ollie managed to finish in the points, which you swore made your heart burst with excitement

he treated you and his father to a very nice dinner that night, grateful to have two of the most important people in his life with him during those moments

you guys would be a very sweet couple, young, sweet and innocent

but even though you guys were young, that didn’t mean that your love was anything other than serious

you really loved each other

and everyone on the grid loved you

OTP and favorite girlfriend, all the way

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much appreciated!!

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[roseistifosi]

A Night in Monaco (part one) AS 12

-------------------------------------

Words: 1.4K A/N: This is the first fic I ever wrote so please be nice loll, BTW

TW: Pregnacy ?

Monte Carlo, Monaco, 1993

The opulence of Monte Carlo sparkles under the starlit sky, an endless expanse of luxury and extravagance that feels almost otherworldly. You, a young bartender working in one of Monaco’s most exclusive venues, navigate the bustling bar with practiced grace. The clinking of glasses, the murmur of animated conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter create a vibrant tapestry of sounds that is both exhilarating and exhausting.

It's the weekend of the 1993 Monaco Grand Prix, a time when the city’s usual glamour is amplified tenfold. The streets are packed with racing enthusiasts, celebrities, and high-profile guests. Your bar is no exception, brimming with a mix of excited patrons eager to celebrate the high-octane event.

With your striking (your hair color) hair and penetrating (your eyes color) eyes, you move fluidly among the patrons, your uniform crisp and your demeanor friendly yet professional. Your days in Monte Carlo have been a whirlwind of bright lights and fast-paced social interactions, a sharp contrast to the quiet life you left behind in Solna. The energy of the city is a double-edged sword—thrilling yet overwhelming.

On this particular evening, as the bar’s atmosphere buzzes with excitement, a man walks in who immediately captures everyone's attention. Ayrton Senna, the Brazilian Formula 1 racing icon, enters with an aura of intense charisma and unparalleled skill. His dark suit and the confidence he exudes seem to amplify the allure of the Monaco night.

You notice him as he approaches the bar. The usual commotion seems to fade into the background as he steps into your space, his presence commanding attention. His dark, contemplative eyes meet yours with a warmth that contrasts sharply with the cool demeanor of his public persona.

“Champagne, please,” Ayrton says, his voice carrying a soft, melodic accent.

Your hand moves instinctively to retrieve a bottle of champagne, your mind momentarily distracted by the celebrity in front of you. “Of course. It’s quite the night for champagne,” you reply with a smile.

As you pour the drink, your conversation starts with small talk—questions about the race, the city, and each other’s lives. Ayrton’s charm is evident, but it’s his genuine curiosity and thoughtful responses that draw you in. He speaks with an intensity that makes you feel as though you’re alone, despite the busy surroundings.

Hours pass, and the bar begins to empty. The crowd thins, leaving behind a quieter atmosphere that feels more intimate. Ayrton, noticing the change, suggests you take a walk outside. You hesitate for a moment, then agree, feeling a mix of intrigue and anticipation.

The streets of Monte Carlo at night are a far cry from the daytime frenzy. The city breathes softly under the moonlight, and the calmness of the night provides a stark contrast to the earlier excitement. Ayrton and you walk through the serene avenues, your conversation flowing with an ease that comes from genuine connection.

You end up at the Hôtel de Paris Monte-Carlo, an establishment as renowned for its elegance as for its exclusivity. Ayrton leads you to his suite, and the opulence of the surroundings only enhances the sense of intimacy between you. The night unfolds with a blend of passion and tenderness, your connection deepening with each shared moment.

As dawn begins to break, the reality of the situation settles in. You wake alone, the suite’s luxurious furnishings starkly contrasting with the emptiness you feel. The bed beside you is neatly made, and the silence of the room is punctuated only by the soft rustle of paper.

On the pillow next to you lies an envelope, meticulously placed. With a mixture of curiosity and trepidation, you pick it up and carefully open it. Inside is a letter, written in Ayrton’s elegant script.

“Dear Y/N,

Thank you for a memorable evening. I regret that I had to leave before you awoke; my schedule demands I return to my responsibilities. I hope the night was as meaningful for you as it was for me. Enclosed is a small token to ensure you are well taken care of.

With warm regards,

Ayrton S.”

Along with the letter is a sum of money, not as compensation but as a gesture of respect and care. Your emotions are a tangled mix of gratitude, confusion, and a sense of loss. The night was both exhilarating and ephemeral, a fleeting connection that has left a lasting impact.

You read the letter several times, each reading stirring a new wave of emotions. The words, though simple, carry a depth of sentiment that makes the experience all the more poignant. Ayrton’s departure, while expected, leaves a void filled with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia.

You carefully tuck the letter away, deciding to keep it as a memento of a night that has transformed your life in ways you haven’t yet fully understood. The money, though practical, is secondary to the emotional significance of the letter and the night you shared.

Then, about a month later, something happens that will change everything. You begin to feel unwell—persistent nausea, fatigue, and an odd sensitivity to smells that hadn’t bothered you before. At first, you dismiss it as stress or perhaps a lingering flu. But when the symptoms don’t subside, you decide to visit a doctor.

Sitting in the sterile, white-walled clinic, you fidget nervously, your mind racing with possibilities. The doctor, a kind woman in her forties, conducts the examination and then asks you to wait while she runs some tests. The minutes tick by slowly, each one filled with growing anxiety.

When the doctor returns, she has a gentle expression on her face, one that conveys both understanding and seriousness. “Mrs Y/L/N” she begins softly, “I have some news for you. You’re pregnant.”

The words hit you like a freight train. Pregnant. You’re pregnant with Ayrton Senna’s child. The reality of it all is overwhelming. You sit there in stunned silence, your mind reeling as you try to process the enormity of what you’ve just heard. The news is a shock, and your mind races with questions and uncertainties. The reality of raising a child, especially one conceived during a brief encounter with someone as famous as Ayrton Senna, is daunting. You grapple with the implications of your situation, trying to come to terms with the fact that you will be raising a child on your own.

[ferrstappen]

WE NEED MORE DAD MAX PLEASE!!! what about going on vacation with the twins to their private villa in st.barths?

You ask, I deliver 🫡

This is on connection of the Disney World blurb 💘

SAFE HAVEN | MAX VERSTAPPEN BLURB

Beach was never really your thing, preferring other plans rather than sitting on the sand. That was until Max brought you to his little paradise on earth: St. Barthelemy.

It became your safe haven, when you were staying it was the place where you could lay down in the sun, teasing Max about his uneven tan, lazy make out sessions with the crashing waves and orange sunsets as witnesses, with no worries of nosy hotel workers who could leak Max’s location to paparazzi or over eager fans.

It was on the same white sand and Caribbean waves where he got on one knee and asked you to be his wife. A year later, under the same sunset you told him you were pregnant, and hid from the world during his summer break, keeping the growing belly away from everything and everyone, just the two of you, still unaware that not only one, but two mini Verstappens were going to change your lives.

Of course the villa was the place where Luca and Mila saw their first vacations just when they were a few months old and couldn’t take wobbly steps by themselves, you and Max always guiding them. Now, four years later, they knew every door and the space of the private beach just like they did your family home in Monte-Carlo.

It was nearly 8 AM when you heard soft footsteps on the kitchen and the voice of Mila telling her brother to keep quiet as Luca stomped over something, all the conversation in perfect Dutch. Squeezing your eyes, you left a quick kiss on Max’s bare chest. He stirred in his sleep, lowering his body and placing his head on your chest, earning a raspy chuckle from you.

“Wake up, the kids are already up and probably making a mess in the kitchen,” you informed your husband who groaned and tightened his grip and started leaving sleepy kisses very near of your boobs. Asking him to stop his attack, you giggled and left a kiss on his messy hair before getting up and putting on Max’s shirt from the night before and calling for the twins.

Max quickly sat up on the bed and prepared for the twins to jump into the bed, engulfing them on his arms and playfully messing with Luca’s dirty blond hair, while also caressing a mysterious spot on the corner of Mila’s mouth.

“Is this…” Max traced the spot and pretended to taste it. “Is this chocolate? How come there’s chocolate here, M?” He feigned confusion, but couldn’t keep his case as his daughter gave him her best puppy eyes, a foolproof method to get the multiple world champion wrapped around her finger, and even at her very young age, she knew her Papa was her protector and favorite human. Not that she’s ever tell you that.

“Papa, no! Not chocolate,” Mila argued placing her small hands on Max’s cheeks, squishing them making Luca and you laugh as Max’s face contorted and looked like a duck.

Luca quickly contradicted his twin’s words, telling his parents that Mila had eaten the last piece of chocolate cake and before the two could start arguing, you took Mila on your arms, away from Max who quickly got up and placed Luca on his arms.

“How about we have some breakfast and head to the beach a little bit, yes?” You suggested and the twins cheered.

“Come on, Luke, let’s choose the trunks for today” Max placed his son back on the floor and walked him to the closet, professionally handling Luca, taking off his pajamas, leading him to the bathroom and helping him change into his orange trunks. Luca ran away from Max as soon as he knew what was coming.

“No, Luca! You need sunscreen!” Max tried to reason with his child, but the little boy Verstappen was too much like his father, something Max was aware since you never stopped reminding him. It wasn’t just his dirty blond/light brunette hair, it was the way Luca furrowed his eyebrows and wasn’t able to keep his mouth shut when he was being told off.

“No, it’s sticky!” Luca crossed his arms, earning a smile from Max just by looking at his adorable son trying to take a stand against sunscreen.

“Ok, no sunscreen min liefde, but that means no beach and you’re staying inside while your sister and mama go outside.”

Max internally smiled as his carbon copy walked inside the bedroom again, complaining on a low voice, was it Dutch or German? Max made a mental note to talk to the twins in Dutch so they would grow more accustomed to it. All of these thoughts took place as Luca walked away from his dad, stomping and crossing his arms. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Max helped Luca out on a pink UV protection shirt before heading outside.

Like connection, Mila chose her favorite orange swimsuit with pink polka dots, perfectly matching his twin. They quickly threw themselves on the sand, paying little attention to your voice telling them to not leave your sight as they started drawing on the sand.

While keeping an eye on the twins, a hand made contact with your behind, squeezing it like it was his own body, earning a high pitched and surprised whimper from your lips. “Watch it, Verstappen. These kids are a menace just like you, so there’s no alone time today.” You said leaving a kiss on his plump lips, while also sneaking your hand to his behind, making Max smile on your lips.

“M, Luke! Come on, let’s test the water” Max called for his children, both who happily ran towards him.

While on the sand, you happily looked at your family, and the joyous smile on Max’s face as the twins attacked him with a water attack.

St. Barths would always be the safe haven of your little family.

[findingnemosworld]

𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨 - 𝐱𝐚𝐛𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬

(𝐛𝐚𝐬��𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭)

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬, (𝐨𝐫 … 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐢'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐱𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐨)

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐦*𝐭.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!!! (𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐝'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 … 𝐛𝐮𝐮𝐮𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜.)

Her life was quite unique from the very beginning, growing up in Reggiolo as the youngest daughter of Carlo Ancelotti propelled her into greatness from a very young age ...

Her oldest sibling Katia was a communications manager for a popular company in Milan, her second oldest Davide worked closely with her father after he transitioned into management, she on the other hand had opted to venture into music, training quite vigorously ever since she was young, the training had paid off as following her graduation from university in which she had recieved a degree in business-management as well as a minor in communications.

She decided to dedicate her time and focus onto music, and what started as quite a bumpy path given the nepotism accusations coupled with the negativity she consistently recieved online ultimately lead to a thriving career as a fully established pop vocalist at just twenty years old with two successful albums behind her.

However, asides from music, she adored football as it had been the common ground which strengthened her relationship with her father, she'd consistently attend every game he managed in every club he ever went to, however when it came to her personal preference, it was that of the Merseyside club, Liverpool.

At first, she could not exactly pinpoint why she was so drawn to the club -it was only two months into following the club that she realized why she was drawn to them- it was the very moment, her youthful eyes landed on him and then, everything changed ...

Initially she'd chalked it up to a sense of admiration, she loved his style of play, had worn his jersey to every home and away game, cheering him on as much as she could, she'd even gotten his autograph on the jersey, a fond memory she kept to herself, hidden from everyone around her, however as time went on and she continued to follow his career, she knew that what she felt spanned further than admiration, and it wasn't until she learned of her father's transfer from Paris Saint Germain to Real Madrid, just how intense her feelings were to noneother than Xabier Alonso.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

It'd been a year since her father became the manager of Real Madrid, six months since Xabi had made the shift from the Merseyside champions to Los Blancos, and Y/N was definitely thrilled to be able to watch him play whenever she could, along with supporting her father, after having relocated from London to Madrid to broaden her musical horizon.

Carlo, was beyond thrilled -he'd always had a soft spot for Y/N- yes, he loved all of his children equally, however his youngest was the closest due to how eager she was to understand the world of football and in turn, he supported her creative and artistic musical venture, making sure to boast about her every chance he can get -and that's what ultimately lead to his newest player becoming fascinated with his youngest- furthermore, leading to their very first encounter.

Real Madrid had won the Copa Del Rey following an impressive 7-0 bout with Sevilla, and to celebrate -Sergio had suggested a private night at the club full of drinks and a vibrant atmosphere- that night had coincided with Y/N's twenty first birthday, and whilst the team were at the private booth with their significant others downing drinks and chatting amongst one another, he on the other hand seemed far more invested in a particular and alluring sight right across from the booth.

Another booth was occupied by a group of young girls, and amongst one of them was her, he'd recognized her almost immediately -however what drew his attention further, was the ruby red spaghetti strapped dress she had that left nothing to the imagination, coupled with her beautiful hair curled to perfection as well as her makeup and the stunning heels had served to attract him almost instantly, foregoing the obvious fact that he was a decade older than her, and she just so happened to be the daughter of his coach.

Sergio, who was initially chatting with Ricardo had noticed his fellow Spaniard's gaze, he followed his gaze to the booth across from theirs, his brows shooting up in amusement, "Xabi, hermano ..." he chuckled, "Y/N?"

"Huh?" replied Xabi, realizing he'd been caught, he brushed it off and chuckled, "I was just shocked to see her, that's all ..."

"It's her birthday," Sergio replied, "Overheard the gaffer talking to her before the match the day before!"

"Ah! ..." Xabi nods, "It makes sense."

Sergio looked at him for a moment before he asked, "You like her, don't you?"

"No." Xabi replied quickly.

Sergio laughs, "You fucking liar, you are crushing on her ..."

"I'm not," he replies with a defensive tone, before releasing a groan of frustration. "Ok, maybe I do ... but it's not like I'm going to chase her, I won't risk my spot on the team."

"I hear you ..." Sergio chuckles before adding, "Though I won't blame you if you do end up with her, you guys are kind of similar, passionate about your careers, the whole nine yards."

Xabi seemed too focused on Y/N to even pay attention to what Sergio was saying, and it was when Y/N had excused herself to go to the restrooms that he said, "I'm gonna go!"

Sergio frowns, "Where?"

"I'll be right back ..." Xabi states as he stands up, and walks towards the restrooms, right around the time she steps out and bumps into him.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry ..." she said softly before her eyes locked on his, they widened in recognition, "Xabi?"

"Yeah, and you're Y/N?" he replied with a gentle tone.

"The one and only ..." she chuckles before adding with a nervous tone, "I should add though that I'm a big fan of yours ..."

"You are?" he asks, surprised by her statement.

"Uh huh ... I mean, you can imagine how excited I was when I learned that you'd be managed by my dad," she giggles.

"That's flattering, to have the talented Y/N as my fan ..." he admits with a soft smile.

"Um ... I gotta go, but I'll see you around!" she said softly, before adding. "Congratulations on your win, that goal was pretty amazing!"

He smiles, "Thank you."

"Bye," she waved.

"Bye," he waved.

───────────────────────────────

Another year rolls around, and Xabi had settled into his new team quite seamlessly -beloved by the fans, his teammates and Carlo- however the latter was a double edged sword, because as much as he admired the Italian manager, he felt a sense of dread each time he recieved a text message or a call from her ...

Whilst Carlo regarded him as a consistent starter for each match, the fact of the matter is he knew that his chances were on thin ice given his secretive friendship with his manager's twenty one year old daughter, a friendship that he now identifies as a full fledged relationship, at least on his end ...

Xabi had grown so fond of her, her bubbly persona, professionalism when it came to her career and the love she gives beyond her music, volunteering to help charities, donating to hospitals, he knew he was hooked the minute he had heard her sing yet now, he was completely and utterly hers, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it, a few of his teammates had picked up on the stolen looks he'd give Y/N whenever she was in attendance, Sergio had warned him to be extra careful and he was, to an extent.

One afternoon, on a rare free day, he asks her to meet him at the park -an odd request given that they usually spend time either at his house or hers, depending on the day- however, he had other plans as he brought along a small basket full of treats and a picnic blanket, setting things up under one of the trees, he waited for about forty five minutes until he spotted her walking towards him; it was then, he realized that no matter how many times he saw her, he fell in love, again and again as her charm and kindness radiated through her eyes.

"Xabi!" she exclaims with a soft look, "What's all of this?" she gestured to the picnic basket.

His cheeks flush, and he answers with a shy tone. "This is um ... our first date!"

"Our what?" she retorts in surprise.

"Our first date ... I know, the classical thing is I have to ask you out first but you're Carlo Ancelotti's daughter ..." he states, gulping nervously. "His youngest daughter, and that alone freaked me out so I thought being friends with you would help suppress my feelings for you but they never went away, and I know I'm potentially gonna lose my spot for this, but to hell with it! I can't hold back, I want to explore this, this thing between us, because I know I'll regret it, if I don't."

To say that Y/N was stunned would be an understatement, to her belief, she always thought her crush was unrequited and in a way she was content with it, to love him from afar and be his friend -however, to hear him declare his feelings had definitely managed to sway her into replying- "You do know if my dad finds out, you'll probably be benched for the whole season!"

He chuckles, "I'm willing to take my chances."

Y/N proceeded to sit down and say, "Let's get our first date then," she giggles. "I must add that you are attentive ..."

"How so?" he asks, handing her one of the sandwiches he made whilst he poured her a glass of orange juice.

"My ideal first date was always a picnic, so you either stalked one of my interviews or you guessed it on the fly!" she retorts playfully.

"The first ..." he admits with a blush.

She laughs, before retorting. "Remember our first encounter?"

"Yeah, a year ago at the club ... why?" he asks with a confused tone.

"That wasn't our first encounter ..." she chuckles softly. "Our first encounter happened when um ... during your first season in Liverpool, I was thirteen, and my mom took me to one of your first matches, against Manchester United, I stood excited after you guys won and you signed my jersey," she said before adding. "I know it's stalker-ish, but yeah ..."

"Woah ..." he grows silent before his eyes widen, "You mean we met way before."

"Uh huh ..." she nods, "I told you ... I'm a big fan!" she whispers plaufully.

"Well I am still flattered that I have an adorable stalker!" he grins.

A wave of comfortable silence falls between them before she asks, "Xabi?"

"Yeah?" he replies, looking at her.

"You're not ... uncomfortable with our age gap ..." she asks with a hesitant tone. "Right?"

"To be honest, it's a double edged sword, there's going to be a lot of criticism if it goes public, half because of the age gap and the other half because of your father, they'll say I'm dating you to get on his good graces, or worse ... guarantee my spot on the team," he sighs softly before taking a hold of her hand. "I'm willing to take the risk."

Y/N smiled widely before leaning over to press a gentle kiss on his lips. "Then I'm yours!" she whispers.

His face lights up in response, "As am I ..."

It wasn't easy by any means, maintaining a private relationship away from the prying eyes of the public as well as the paparazzi, their meet ups were private as well, mostly in secluded areas or if they're lucky, their houses -as far as the world knew, she was the apple of her father's eye, a beloved singer whilst he was the glue that held the team's midfield together- the consequences of such an affair loomed on top of them, prompting them to be quite careful about how they should handle the pressure of a relationship of this magnitude, and he firmly believed he was able to hide it for a while, until ...

───────────────────────────────

To say it was pure torture to see her standing near her father would be an understatement, she looked absolutely gorgeous in her leggings and oversized t-shirt coupled with the cap was enough to send blood rushing straight to his cock resulting in a groan of frustration to escape him ... Sergio, who noticed his expression leaned over and jokingly said, "Careful not to explode in front of the boss or your Juliet!"

Xabi shot him a deadly glare before his gaze trailed back to her and he noticed her smiling his way which elicited a subtle smile from him, that faded when he noticed Carlo looking his way ... I have to stop or else I'm going to be punished, he reminds himself.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

"Xabi seems to settle in nicely ..." Y/N remarks.

"He is ... his performance in the last few games has been impressive!" Carlo nods before adding, "He's definitely going to start in the upcoming fixture against Inter Milan!"

"He's also cute ..." she murmurs.

"Y/N!" Carlo exclaimed sternly.

"What?" she retorts, "It's not like I lied ..."

"Don't even think about it ..." was all he said before shifting his focus back to training.

Too late ..., Y/N thought to herself as she decided to enter back into the training center.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Y/N was confused by the text message Xabi had sent her stating that they needed to speak and that it was an emergency, they'd both agreed not to speak to one another whenever she paid her father a visit yet Xabi had insisted, stating that he was hiding in one of the storage closets, "Xabi?" she calls out once she spots the closet in question with the ajar door. "Xa-Oh!" she was immediately dragged in and the door was shut behind her, "Xabi ..." she whispers.

He locks the door then turns to her, "I couldn't wait," he grumbles, wrapping one arm around her waist, and the other around her shoulder to pull her in for a kiss. "You looked so beautiful out there!" he whispers hotly before pressing his lips entirely over hers.

She was stunned for a brief moment before melting almost instantly in his embrace, he gently pushed her up against the wall, hoisting her up so that she'd wrap her legs around his torso. "You do realize we're at risk of being caught," she whispers, a soft moan escapes her lips when his lips descend down to the column of her thorat.

"I know ... but you don't understand," he murmurs, his hand slipping inside her t-shirt, crawling up to cup her breasts through her bra and when he felt the lace, a low groan escapes him. "You tease, you're wearing the red lace bra, aren't you?"

"Yeah ..." she replied breathessly, whining when he squeezed her left breast. "Fuck."

"You're so sexy," he moaned in her ear, hiking her shirt up to press featherlight kisses over the top of her breasts, "And you're all mine," he lowered her bra cups to take one of her nipples in his mouth while his index finger and thumb toyed with the other, eliciting the sweetest of sounds from her.

"Fuck ..." she whines quietly.

His lips trail back up to her neck, her jawline, her cheek then her lips as he whispered, with a teasing tone. "How do you think your dad will react if he finds out his precious princess fucked out of her mind until she could only remember my name?" a grin appears across his lips upon noticing her expression. "Oh Querida, look at you, so beautiful!" he murmurs.

He sets her down then hikes her leggings down to her ankles, pushes her panties to the side, pressing his thumb over her clit to tease her, "Let them hear you, let them all hear you so they'd know who's making you feel good."

"Xabi!" the young female whines, "Please."

He slips his hand inside of his shorts, then boxers to pull out his cock, pumping himself before he slowly pushed his cock into her pussy drawing out the softest cry from her, "There we go," he groans, "Moan for me, moan for me ..."

"Xabi!" Y/N moans, "Fuck ..."

"Your dad would kill me ..." he slams his hips against her own, "His little girl and his player, I'll be done but you know what?" he paused, gently nibbling down on her neck. "You're worth it, so fucking worth it."

"Oh ..." she whines, "Shut up and fuck me."

Xabi grins, "You don't have to tell me twice."

He hoists her up slightly, and begins to move his hips against hers, grunting with each thrust, "There we go, such a good girl taking my cock inside her tight pussy," he praised her, whispering hotly in her ear. "Tell me, do you love it?" he growls, "Do you love feeling my cock deep in your slick tight pussy?"

"Yes .. yes ... OH FUCK YES!" Y/N whines, pulling him closer to her, "Harder!" she cried softly.

His thrusts increased rapidly, "I'm gonna cum ..." he whispers in her ear, "You're going to let me cum in you querida, you're gonna be a good girl and let me cum in you."

"Please ..." Y/N moans, "Please ... please ... please ..."

With one last sharp thrust, his cock twitches and he releases a surge of warmth inside of her followed shortly by her pussy clenching around his cock as they both rode off the waves of their orgasm, "Oh god!" she sighs.

Xabi pulls her in for a kiss before murmuring, "You gotta admit this was hot, ..." he chuckles, "Sex in the storage closet."

"Yeah," she giggles.

Suddenly, they hear ...

"Xabi! ... Xabi!"

The pair quickly redress, and Y/N whispers. "You have to go ... I'll walk out a few minutes after once the coast is clear."

"No, I'm not leaving you ... what if it's the boss?" he whisper shouts.

The sounds grows closer, "Xabi, hermano ...?"

"That's not my dad, that's Sergio ..." Y/N replies, "Let's go out, he already knows we're together."

Xabi sighs softly, "Ok ... let's do that!"

The pair bravely step out of the storage room only to be faced with not just Sergio but indeed, her father as well, "Oh boy!" Xabi whispers under his breath.

Carlo looks between his daughter and Xabi, then looks at Sergio. "What uh ... what's this?"

"Boss, I think it's best if ... they explain!" Sergio said, before excusing himself and leaving the trio standing there in an eerie silence.

"So?" Carlo broke the silence with a stern yet calm tone.

"We can explain ..." Y/N blurts out before growing quiet under her dad's stern stare.

"How long?" Carlo asks calmly.

"A year and ten months." Xabi replies quickly.

"Aha ... so for a year and ten months, you've been decieving my daughter." Carlo deduced, nodding slowly.

"Dad ..." Y/N groans, "He wasn't decieving me, I was the one who fell in love first and you know that."

"That does not change the fact that this relationship is immoral sweetheart, he's ten years older than you." Carlo interjects.

"I'm not a child, I'm almost twenty two." Y/N rolls her eyes, "And besides, Xabi and I are in love."

"In love? after almost two years ..." Carlo retorts incredulously, "Absolutely not, I don't approve of this."

"Sir ... If I may?" Xabi began.

"Shut up ..." Carlo growls.

"Dad!"

"Sir, with all due respect ... I'm going to ask you to listen," Xabi seemed to stand his ground as he continued, "I love your daughter, and you're right, she's ten years younger than me, she could have anyone in the world but she chose me, and I'll ever question why she did just that, however what I can also do, is cherish her, love her, take care of her every need, make sure that she's always happy, because to me, she's more than just your daughter, she's my person, she's my ..." he paused, interlocking his digits with her, "My soulmate."

Her heart softened at Xabi's sweet declaration, she then turned to her father. "Dad I love you, and I will always love you, you're the first man I have ever loved," she sighs, "But I love him, and there's nothing you can do about it, I am standing my ground."

Carlo grew silent for what seemed like an eternity before he said, "Are one hundred per cent committed towards my little girl?"

"Yes, for the rest of my life." Xabi said with a soft tone.

"Then you do realize that while you have managed to charm my daughter, it will take a lot more than that to impress me, football skills aside ..." Carlo states before narrowing his eyes at him, "If you hurt her, break her heart or subject her to anything painful, trust me when I say that you can kiss your football career goodbye."

He knew better than to call bluff on it, Carlo was and still is protective of Y/N. "I understand and I give you my word, ... I will protect Y/N with my life."

"Very well ..." Carlo said then added, "Training's back in fifteen minutes!"

"Ok ..." he breathed out a sigh of relief.

Carlo walked away, however midstep he said. "Hey Xabi?"

"Yeah boss!" Xabi replied.

"Fix your shorts ..."

Xabi scrambled upon the realization that his shorts weren't fixed properly, "Shit!"

Y/N remained silent for a brief moment before she said, "Well that could have gone worse."

"Really?" Xabi arched a brow at her remark, "Your father almost saw my cock and that's what you say."

"He could have found us having sex!" Y/N giggles.

"You are unbelievable," Xabi pulled her in for a kiss.

She happily kissed him back, "At least now it's all out in the open ..." she trails off before teasingly adding. "Daddy."

He grunts, "You do realize I'm going to be rock hard once again."

"Well ..." she grins, "That's why god created your right hand," she leaned over and kissed his cheek, "I'll see you later."

Xabi watched her walk away, letting out a soft sight, she is going to be the death of me.

[estiebestieban]

A Dance with Bulls

Charles can’t tear his eyes away from the display before him as Carlos’ hand runs across the flank of the bull one final time before he retrieves his sword from the flesh. It comes back red, stained with fresh blood as it glistens underneath the light of the sun.

A 8.6k Charlos fic on AO3. Prince! Charles x Matador! Carlos. Vaguely set in a regency setting. Rated E. With incredible art by @4rseneart HERE

READ AN EXCERPT HERE, AND THE REST ON AO3.

“It seems that you possess witchcraft, Your Highness.”

Charles spins around on his heels in the middle of the lavish garden in bloom just outside the Arión estate, facing the man speaking to him from the shadows of the setting sun. Had this been his own residence, a place where Charles was comfortable, he would have scolded the man away. But the house and its halls do not belong to him, and he is all too aware of the fact that he is a guest in an unfamiliar country “How so, Mister Sainz. You must delight me with an answer.”

The matador makes his way to Charles, invading his space until they are nearly chest to chest. An improper position to be found in, that much was certain. Yet, Charles does not step back to create more distance between the both of them. He stands his ground, meeting Carlos’ gaze head-on as he delights in the fact that even if they appear to be the same height, he is slightly taller than the Spaniard.

“Well, if you will forgive me for my bluntness — I see you in the ring, and you steal the breath right out of my lungs. What other force on earth could do such a thing, if not witchcraft?”

Carlos’ words are charming, and it is not hard for Charles to imagine the flock of women so surely eager to throw themselves at the man’s feet. Still, he is the second prince of Monaco, and he is destined by his birthright to stand above such a display of suave charm. “Perhaps you have simply forgotten the fine art of breathing, good sir. It must be difficult, to keep your footing as light and your body as flexible as I have seen from you today and still remember to take a breath every so often.”

It comes naturally, the teasing. He is eager to see a smirk return on Carlos’ features, even more so to see the spark of joy lighting up those rich brown eyes. Charles does not long to please anyone, for such is the desire of the masses below him, but he finds himself hoping to do just that in the presence of the matador.

As swiftly as he appeared in Charles’ space, Carlos stepped out of it just as quickly. The ghost of laughter lingered in his absence. Charles is no better than the bull, for he takes one firm step towards the other, before remembering himself and noticing the absence of a red cloth for him to follow.

“Your Highness, I am not a man prone to begging, you can tell, no?” Carlos gestures with his hand to nowhere in particular. Charles’ eyes follow the motion eagerly as if all the secrets of the universe would be revealed to him by the simple act. “But perhaps I am made so by your presence. Seize the use of your magic. A man cannot live long without his breath after all.”

Charles had never seen other men die, but he had overheard the stories of men coming back from battle haunted by the things they had seen. When whispering to one another to recall the exact sounds of dying men, none had accounted for a young prince to be hiding behind his father’s legs. He does not know what it is like, to choke on his own blood, but he finds himself growing far more familiar with the act of choking on his own words in Carlos’ presence.

“Nor can he live without a heart?” Charles retorts as he watches Carlos walk away from him into the direction beyond the world of the Arión estate. Carlos does not give him an answer, for he is not a subject that answers to the royal blood in Charles’ veins. He gets to offer his silence to the prince who would so eagerly leap after the man. All Charles gets is the vision of a light step and the confusion left behind with the parting of the man in question.