#followers i am once against asking you to get into Medias

[egg-on-a-legg]

befuddled by the fact this hasnt been redrawn yet

(ty to the squad for letting me steal your guys to use as bg characters gjdfgkfd)

[cameronsprincess]

— summary: you meet up with your favorite biker guy to backpack him for a day, and things get very heated very fast.

— CW: 18+ only! meeting up with a stranger (don’t do that), putting out for a stranger (oops, i’d fold if it were biker!rafe too), biker guy!rafe, semi public sex (it’s at the top of a parking deck thing😭😂), fingering, hair pulling, male receiving oral, unprotected sex, ass and pussy slapping (like once), lots of dirty talk and praise.

— a/n: ah fuck. my obsession with biker men got the best of me here. my wet fucking dream. likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

❥ ride — r.c

I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. I had been following him on Instagram and TikTok for months, and he lived in my town! So when I finally found the courage to send him a DM on Instagram joking about backpacking him for a day, I never in a million years imagined that he would actually respond — and say yes!

I’m finishing up the final touches of my makeup in front of my full length mirror that sits in the corner of my room when I hear my phone go off, letting me know I have a text.

Standing from the floor, I make my way to my nightstand and grab my phone. I open it to see that he has texted me.

Rafe: Hey! I’m out front whenever you’re ready.

I smile at the text and type out a quick response. Pocketing my phone, I rush to slip on my high top converse and grab my hoodie, tossing it over my head and rushing out of my bedroom and front door.

Making my way down the steps I come to a stop at the bottom, my breath catching in my throat when I see him leaned against the side of his bike. He looks deliciously good today. He wears a pair of tight, black jeans and a fitted white T-shirt. He pairs the outfit with a pair of white Nikes with a black Nike check in the middle of either side.

He doesn’t have his helmet on, and the sight of his bright blue eyes sparkling under the sun has my thighs tightening. He never shows his face on his social media, only his eyes if he flips the visor of his helmet up, and he rarely does that. He has the most perfect full lips, a defined jawline and his hair sits messy on top of his head. This man is the epitome of perfection.

“Y/N, right?” He asks, his low voice pulling me from my trance.

I swallow the saliva that’s built up in my mouth from looking at him and nod my head quickly. “Yeah, that’s me! Rafe, right?” I ask. But I already know. The bike he came to pick me up on lets me know it is in fact him.

He smiles widely. “That’s me. You ready? Have you ever rode before? Even just on the back?”

My hands begin to slightly shake, all of a sudden clammy. I’m nervous. But who wouldn’t be? This gorgeous man, with a large following on social media is here to pick me up, and take me riding with him for the day. Any woman in my position would be nervous too. Well, not all women, but the women like me.

“No.” I answer honestly. I watch his lips quirk up into a smirk, and I internally fist pump that he didn’t change his mind. Happy that he didn’t say “never mind, it’s not worth the hassle of teaching you”

He takes a step toward me, reaching his right hand out for me to take. I place my hand in his and pray that he can’t feel how nervous I am. He leads me toward his bike, releasing my hand and grabbing the extra helmet he’d brought with him. He turns, and when his blue eyes land on mine again, I swear I feel my heart skip a beat.

“I’m just gonna slide this on you, that okay?”

I smile and nod. “Yeah that’s fine.”

He nods once and then moves to slip the sleek black helmet over my head. Once it’s on good, his fingers move down to the straps under my chin. When his fingers brush across the skin, a shiver runs through my body. Once he has it strapped in place, he steps back and lifts the visor so he can see my eyes. “Fits perfectly. You look cute in that.”

I laugh nervously. “Thank you.”

He gives me one last smile before turning and grabbing his own helmet, placing it on his head and strapping it in place. He turns to face me again, and my panties grow wet at the sight in front of me. I don’t know what it is, but him with his helmet on is so fucking sexy.

“‘M just gonna press this button on your helmet, it’ll allow you to hear me while we’re riding.”

I nod my head and stand still as he steps toward me again, pressing a small button on the helmet I didn’t know was there. He steps back and asks, “Can you hear me?”

I giggle. “Yeah, I can hear you. That’s so cool!”

I hear him chuckle and the sound makes butterflies erupt in my stomach. “Yeah, me and my friends bought these so we can communicate while we ride, if we get separated and can’t use our hand signals. Plus, it’s fun to fuck with them this way too.”

He turns back to his bike and grabs a pair of black and white riding gloves from a drawstring bag, shoving them on his hands before turning to me once more. He claps his hands together and begins explaining the basics of riding on the back.

“So, I’ll hop on and you’ll sit on this seat behind me, and place your feet on these pegs.” He pats the seat and points to the foot pegs. “While we’re riding, wrap your arms tightly around my waist, and if I lean in a certain direction, you lean with me. It makes it easier to navigate turns and what not.” He pauses again, thinking of what else he needs to go over. He finally speaks again. “Oh! And if you get scared or want me to slow down, just tap my thigh. It’ll let me know to slow down for you.”

I nod my head and let him know I understand. Satisfied with everything he’s told me, and knowing I’m comfortable he tosses his drawstring bag onto his back and climbs onto his bike, starting it up. The engine roars to life and he turns his head to face me, nodding it toward him to let me know I can get on. I swing my right leg over the back of the bike, setting my ass onto the seat and wrap my arms tightly around his waist like he’d said to do.

I hear him through the speaker in the helmet as his hand taps my thigh. “Ready?”

“Yes!”

-

An hour later, Rafe is pulling up to the top of a parking deck. The two of us had rode non stop for the last hour, and to say it was one of the most exhilarating and memorable experiences of my life would be an understatement.

He pulls the bike to a stop, shutting off the engine and putting out the kickstand before he climbs off. He keeps his hand on my thigh to keep me upright as he gets off the bike, and then he grabs at my left hand and helps me off next.

I pop the clip of the straps under my chin, letting them fall loose before I pull the helmet up and off my head. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to tame the knots that had formed during the ride. After a few seconds of — and actually failing — trying to tame the knots, I finally decide to just toss my hair into a high ponytail.

As I’m securing the ponytail holder in my hair, Rafe’s voice catches my attention. “So, was it everything you thought it’d be?”

I finish putting my hair up and turn to smile at him. “Absolutely. That was… So much fun.” I breathe out.

He smiles and takes two long strides toward me, making my breath catch in my throat and my thighs tighten. This man is so fucking sexy it hurts, and the fact that I’m alone with him, it has my heart pounding and my pussy throbbing. But we don’t know one another, nothing would ever happen between us. He was just being nice today, allowing me to ride with him. I bet he does this a lot. I’m nothing special.

Once he stands directly in front of me, I swear my knees almost give out. His intoxicating scent fills my nose, the warmth radiating off his body envelopes me. He reaches his right hand out, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“I gotta say, you looked absolutely beautiful on my bike.”

My heart begins pounding rapidly in my chest, my hands shaking. I swear, this man is going to be my downfall. If he asked me to drop to my knees right here, right now, I don’t think I’d have the strength to tell him no.

I laugh nervously. “Thank you. You don’t look to bad yourself on there.”

A wide grin spreads across his lips, and the sight alone takes my fucking breath away. He cups my cheek with his right hand, brushing his thumb across my skin. “Can I kiss you?”

My eyes go wide. Did the Rafe Cameron just ask if he could kiss me? I have to be dreaming right now. My eyes find his, searching for any sign that he’s just fucking with me. But I never find it. His blue eyes are darkened over, and hold nothing but seriousness in them.

I feel my legs turn to jello, and the only thoughts running through my mind are his lips on mine. His cock buried inside my wet cunt, down my throat. My eyes flick down to his plump lips and back to his eyes. He takes my silence as an invitation, dipping his head down and pressing his lips with mine.

The kiss starts out softly at first, but then he quickly deepens it. His tongue glides across my slightly parted lips, a low groan emitting from his chest before he forces his tongue in my mouth. Our tongues brush against one another, fighting for dominance before he finally wins. My entire body is on fire, my thighs tightening and my arousal soaks my thong. Fuck, I need more of him.

When he finally breaks his lips from mine, we’re both breathing heavily, chests rising and falling as his lust filled eyes search mine. I decide to be bold, the worst he can do is shove me away, right? My right hand slides between our bodies, finding his hard cock and palming him through the rough fabric of his black jeans. He hisses in a breath. “You’re playing a dangerous game, baby. You sure you want this?”

A shiver runs up my spine at the low, raspy tone of his voice. Sexual tension is thick in the cool fall air, making it feel warmer than it is outside. My entire body screaming at me to let him have me, while my mind is screaming to run the other way. I don’t know him. I only follow him on social media. But he’s so fucking sexy. He’s so confident in himself, and I need to feel what it’s like to have him. Even if it’s just a one time thing, even if he is a stranger to me, my body fucking craves him like a drug I can’t get enough of.

My eyes find his and a mischievous smile forms on my lips. “I’m sure.”

I feel his cock twitch beneath the fabric of his jeans, and I smile knowing that it’s me who has this man all worked up. He slaps my hand away from his hard-on, his own hands quickly working the button and zipper of his jeans. He slides the black material down his legs, before shoving his boxers down as well, the material pooled at his feet. His strong hands grip my shoulders, shoving me down to my knees.

I wince when my knees hit the hard concrete beneath me. I shake away the feeling of the rough ground digging into my knees through my jeans, and focus on the hard, long and thick cock that stands erect in front of my face. I bite at my bottom lip before lightly grasping the thick base of him in my right hand. I stroke him softly, running my hands up and down, from the base to the swollen pink tip. Removing my hand, I gather saliva in my mouth and spit down into my palm before gripping him again.

I stroke him softly, toying with the head of his cock before running my hands back down the base. He growls in frustration, his hands falling to the back of my head and gripping at the high ponytail I’d put my hair into. He yanks my head up, forcing my eyes on his. “You like playing games? Suck my fucking cock, baby. Or else I promise, when it comes time to please you, I’ll play the games right fucking back, and you won’t like it when I win.”

I smirk up at him, letting out a small whimper at the tone in his voice and the feeling of his hands in my hair. He loosens his grip on my head, allowing me to drop my head back down. My tongue darts out of my mouth and I lick up the vein that’s on the underside of his cock. He moans when my tongue reaches his tip, now red and angry as precum leaks from it. I slide my tongue over the slit on the tip of his dick, gathering his precum onto my tongue. I close my eyes and hum in appreciation. “You taste so good, Rafe.”

He growls, his fingers wrapping around my ponytail once more and shoving my mouth onto his cock. He shoves himself all the way down my throat, pulling a small gag from me. I look up at him through my lashes, his head is thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. His adam’s apple bobs in his throat when he swallows. Slowly, he pulls my head back, strings of my saliva coating his dick.

“‘M gonna fuck this pretty mouth, then, I’m going to bend you over this fucking bike and take you from behind. Alright?”

I whimper in response and he lets out a dark laugh. I suck in one more breath before he shoves himself back in my throat. Tears fill my eyes as I breathe through my nose. His thrusts are harsh and sloppy, his tip repeatedly abusing the back of my throat. But I don’t fucking care. This man can fucking ruin me, and I’ll thank him when he’s done.

The sounds of my gags and his grunts fill the air as he continues to abuse my throat. His thrusts begin to grow sloppier, his dick swelling in my mouth. I feel him twitch inside my mouth and then he’s yanking my head back, spit attached to his dick and my mouth go flying at his roughness.

I suck in an appreciative breath of air, my hand over my chest as it heaves up and down. He wraps his fingers around my left arm, pulling me to my feet and turning me so my back is to him. “Jeans down, now.” He demands, and I quickly obey.

My jeans are pooled at my feet, the only thing left covering me from him is the black lace thong I chose to wear today. I gasp loudly when I feel his hand slap harshly against my ass, the sting it left behind delicious. He runs his fingers over my clothed pussy, and I can’t contain the moan that slips free. “You’re fucking soaked, baby. All f’me?”

I nod my head, tears falling past my lower lashes. “Yes. Fuck, yes. All for you, Rafe.”

His fingers slide my panties to the side, baring my soaked pussy to him. I hear him groan from behind me. “Such a pretty pussy, baby. I can’t wait to feel it squeezing my cock.”

He runs his fingers through my wet folds, gathering my arousal on them before he shoves to inside me without warning. I cry out, my back arching and allowing him better access. He slowly pushes two thick digits in and out of me, his thumb pressed firmly against my clit and rubbing lazy circles around it. “So fuckin’ tight, baby. Gotta stretch you out before I shove my cock inside you, think you can handle a third finger?”

I whimper, my head falling forward and dangling over the other side of the bike. “Yes.” I say breathlessly.

He lets out a low growl before adding a third finger into my sensitive pussy. “That’s it baby girl, take my fingers. You’re almost ready for my cock.”

Whimpers and whines fall from my lips, my hips roll against his hand, fucking myself onto his fingers. The squelching noise my pussy makes while his fingers fuck me have my mind going fuzzy and my toes curling within the confines of my high top converse.

I feel myself clench tightly around his fingers as that warm feeling builds inside me. My orgasm nearing. I clench around him again, my legs shaking uncontrollably as I come undone around his fingers.

He quickly pulls his fingers from inside me, the hand that was just fucking me slaps harshly at my now overly sensitive cunt, making me scream. “Fuck me, Rafe! I need you inside me, now! Please..? Please fuck me.”

He chuckles, and I turn my head to see him with the three fingers he just fucked me with shoved into his mouth. He sucks and licks them clean, pulling them out and giving me a mouth watering smirk. “Taste so fuckin’ good. Gonna have to take you home with me after this and devour that sweet cunt of yours.”

I sigh in frustration, wiggling my ass back and forth, silently begging him to fuck me. I hear him step toward me, and then I feel his swollen head running through my slick folds. His head teases at my entrance before he slowly pushes it inside me. “Fuck!” I shout, and he chuckles. He slowly pushes himself inside me, inch my inch until he’s buried inside me, his balls lightly brushing at my sensitive clit.

He groans. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight. Pussy feels s’good wrapped around my dick.”

I let out a soft whine when he slowly pulls himself from inside me, slamming himself back in seconds later. His hands find my hips, gripping them tightly as he begins to roughly fuck himself into me. My tits are smushed against the seat of his bike, my head dangling over the other side as my hands grip at the foot peg in front of me for balance.

Each push and pull of his cock has me seeing stars, my legs turning to jello once more. A feeling of pure euphoria washes over me, and I know my second orgasm is about to explode from me. “Goddamnit, Rafe! ‘M so close, so fuckin’ close!”

One harsh thrust has the band snapping and my pussy pulsing. My second release washes over me. I lift onto the tips of my toes, screaming his name out to the world as I come undone around his thick cock.

He doesn’t let up, he continues pounding into me ruthlessly. My body goes numb, my brain foggy and blood rushing to my ears. All I can hear are the sounds of his balls slapping against my pussy and the wet, squelching noise my pussy makes with each push and pull of his hips. He lies his front on top of my back, his lips ghosting over my ear as he whispers. “Hope you’re on birth control, ‘cause I’m coming in this sweet fucking cunt.”

I whine, my eyes rolling into the back of my head when I feel his cock swell inside me. He places a hot kiss on the sweat slick skin of my neck, his teeth sinking into the skin when his dick twitches inside me. He lets out a low groan, thrusting forward once more before he still inside me, letting the hot, white ropes of his cum spill inside me. Marking me with his seed.

He lies on top of me for a few seconds, breathing heavily before he slowly pulls himself from inside me. A shudder wracks my body at the feeling of his thick cock sliding out, leaving me feeling empty and suddenly cold.

He pulls something from his bag, bringing it between my legs and wiping me clean. I look at him from behind my shoulder, and give a small smile. Once he’s finished cleaning me up, I fix my panties and lean forward to pull my jeans back up my legs. It’s awkwardly silent, and that alone makes me uncomfortable. Does he regret what we just did? Does he wish he didn’t have to make the awkward ride back with me back to my place?

All the thoughts running through my mind vanish when I feel his lips on mine. “Stop that.” He says once he pulls away.

I frown. “Stop what?”

His hands cup my cheeks and he smiles down at me. “Thinking. I can see it written all over your face.” He pauses, kissing the top of my forehead, and the act alone has my stomach erupting with butterflies again. “I meant what I said, I’m taking you home and devouring that sweet cunt, you got a thirty minute ride to prepare yourself for a long night baby.” He says with a wink, and then he turns to get us ready for the ride back to his house.

RAFE TAGLIST: @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @lizcameron @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @anqeliclust @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @biggesthat3r @wearemadeofstardust

rafe cameron masterlist | taglist form

[eccentricwritingbaby]

cooking up some fun with the sainz’

dad!carlos sainz jr x wife!mom!reader

summary - y/n sainz is a successfully famous chef with her own restaurant and ever since covid, she has been cooking on instagram live once a week. fans adore the sweet interactions between her and carlos and their little baby girl. 

masterlist

-

“mi amor, i am about to go live while cooking dinner,” you nod over from behind the kitchen counter, towards your husband whos sitting on the couch. he sets down his phone and turns to face you while you continue, “if you could just keep up with santana while i’m doing so, you know i still don’t want her face all over the media, porfa,”

“por supuesto, cariño. but you do know you don’t have to ask me to watch our child,” he lets out a chuckle as he stands, sauntering over to the kitchen where you are finishing wiping down the counters and adding extra tidiness to your lived-in kitchen. he slowly grabs both of your hands from the counter, removing the cleaning spray and rag, and intertwining your fingers. you inched closer to him and rested your head against his chest. carlos plants a soft kiss onto the top of your head as you begin your reply, “i know, carlos, but i just don’t want her running around the kitchen which is dangerous or having her face pop up more onto my screen than it already has. she’s four, she doesn’t deserve to be subjected to our lifestyle just yet,” you let out your vulnerable admission as carlos lets your left hand go and steadily strokes the back of your head instead.

“i know, i’ll keep a close eye on her,” your husband looks down at you with a quick smile before he eases you more, ”you have nothing to worry about,” with his last word he begins to bend down in order to place a kiss onto your lips.

“EWW!” your four year old yells out from the bottom of the stairs. she had very obviously just woken up from her nap with her dark hair flying in all different directions, her favorite meerkat plushie hanging from her grasp, and most importantly, a very happy piñon trailing behind her. ever since she was born, the dog followed santana absolutely everywhere. call it protection or just puppy love, it was still the cutest part of your little family. 

“and when did you wake up, señora?” you pull apart from your husband with a laugh in order to look at your daughter properly, but don’t miss carlos’ pleading gaze to ignore your daughters wishes and give him a kiss. you took one more glance back at him and kissed his cheek to meet in the middle as he released his signature smile and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. 

“ahora,” she responds while rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand and slowly beginning to trudge over to the couch. 

“mama is about to begin dinner, mija. why don’t you and i find a game to play while she does?” your husband proposes.

“okay, papi,” she says quietly before she gains some energy, “but only if we get to play hide and seek!” she squeals out in excitement. carlos laughs as you move around his hold to set up your phone and put away your cleaning supplies. 

his voice graces a higher octave, one saved particularly for your pride and joy, while matching her adorable enthusiasm, “hide and seek! santana, that is a great idea! how could i not have thought of it?” he laughs along with her as she pulls herself to stand up on the couch, legs bouncing underneath her.

“no se, papi! but i thought of it! so we do it?” she asks, looking up at him with her big, brown, wide eyes inherited from the man himself as he strolls over to her place. your husband easily scoops her up into a fit of giggles as he runs her into his office in order to plan out their game. you take this brief moment of quiet to begin the live, and continue to pull out your necessary ingredients as people begin to join. 

once enough people had joined, you share a bright smile and begin your discussion, “hola, everyone! today we are venturing over to italy for our dinner, and making some homemade pizza,” you begin to take out tomatoes and slice them as you carry on, “it sounds very simple, yet you can make it anything you want with toppings, which is the magic of cooking,” you glance up at the camera to notice the brief display of comments and continue to explain, “everything is going to be homemade here, the sauce, the dough, and the cheese! it’s a great meal especially when you have a little one who is just now becoming a bit picky,” you let out a chuckle as you think on to the many ‘no’s’ that came from your four year old as you presented her with different cuisines. one that never misses will always be pizza. 

“okay! i already made my dough last night since i knew i’d be pretty busy today, but i do have a video on how to make that if you want to know, it’s on my story in the highlights of my 'how to's',” you finished chopping up all your tomatoes and threw them into the pan with a bit of oil, “now we’re working on the sauce, so i just chopped up maybe a cup and half - ‘measure with your heart’ - as my abuela always told me, of tomatoes and toss it into a low/medium heated pan with some olive oil to cook it down,” you were about to continue, but instead were interrupted by a little giggle at your feet. you looked down at your smiling daughter as she reached a finger up to her lips in order for you to keep her location a secret. you shot her a wink and then pretend to zip your lips and throw away the key. your peripheral caught your husband sneaking around and looking near and far for the little fit of laughs that was sitting on your feet. 

“next up that i’ll work on is the cheese, we’re making mozzarella so im just going to start by putting some milk on heat using m-” 

“psst” carlos cuts you off from behind the camera, attempting, attempting, to not interrupt. once you give him a confused look he begins to mouth out ‘donde?” while confusion etches his face as well. you stifle a laugh and give him an obvious glance down to your feet in order to hint. his head falls back with a smile and he rounds the corner of the counter to catch his daughter. you view the scene playout and begin to stir around the wilted tomatoes on the stove, santana screeching in joy as carlos comes onto the screen of your live, picking up his daughter while reciting the chant, ‘i’ve found you, mija!’ ‘i’ve found you!’ and you just look on in awe. 

the comments begin to fly by at lightning speed due to the domestic bliss your family carried onto the screen. carlos, still holding a giggly santana, checks you over while looking between you and your phone, “lo siento, amor,” he stretches his puppy dog eyes towards you and you can’t help but swoon, “it’s okay, enjoy hiding from this little detective next, baby,” before carlos could even respond, a resounding sound of disgust is let out from the four year old and she squeaks out, “i your baby mama! not papi,” she holds onto her pout and crosses her arms tightly as she looks between you two. you turn the heat low on the stove for both your projects and head over to where your husband and baby are, slowly repeating back to her, “you are my baby, princesa,” bringing your hands up to her tummy you begin to make her emit her loud and infectious laughter to you and carlos. 

the comments poured over on your phone as you left your love-bubble to take a look at them, one stuck out and you replied, still holding a slight laugh in your voice, “yes, we are very happy,” and you went back to smiling at your beautiful family. 

[honeybeedewdrops]

Photo Gone Wrong | L.Norris

Summary: McLaren ask Y/N to take a picture of Lando and Oscar holding their first and third place trophy. What could go wrong?

Warnings: mention of a bloody nose

______________________________________________________________

The McLaren garage was the place to be after the Singapore Grand Prix. "Y/N" Someone called as you walk out of the garage. You stop and see one of the social media managers calling you over, Oscar and Lando close by her side.

"hey what's up" you say walking over to them. "Would you be able to take a picture of the boys holding their trophies for the McLaren socials." You nod and start to get your camera out. "Sure any particular way" You ask. "yeah were thinking like this one" the social media managers says getting out her phone and showing you a picture the boys had taken a few weeks ago.

"oh uh ok" you says not so sure about this picture many things could go wrong. "What? What's wrong you seem hesitant" the social media manager asks "I just what if one of them drop the trophy and break my camera or worse me" you state "come on Y/n don't you trust us" Lando says "You not so much. Oscar he's fine" Lando rolls his eyes. "Come on Y/n" Lando begs "i'll make sure he doesn't so anything" Oscar says "fine" you agree. You get down on the ground and point your camera up "Ok lean in" you say. Lando grips his trophy and nearly drops it causing you to squeal and turn away. Lando started laughing, "Lando" you complain "alright alright i'm serious" he says as the two lean in.

You snap a couple photos and before anyone could react Lando had dropped his trophy. He scrambled to catch it but even with his fast reflexes it was too late. The trophy came to a crash against your face the end hitting just perfectly in between your camera and cheek hitting your nose full on. You toss your camera aside not caring about it and sitting up grabbing your nose, crying out in pain. Blood started to gush out. "Oh my gosh Y/n I am so sorry I didn't mean it" Lando panicked. "I think, I think you broke my nose" you says as tears started to pool and fall. "We need a medic" Lando calls and Oscar takes off towards the medical center at least that's where you hopped he was going. "I am so sorry. what can I do?" Lando asks "Can you maybe get me a towel or something?" you ask holding your bloody nose that was really hurting. Lando looks around and spots a bag a few meters away he opens it and hands you a shirt. A crowd started to form and you started to get embarrassed. You tried not to put too much pressure as if you did it hurt.

A few minutes later Oscar came rushing over a few of the medical team right behind him. At that point your hands and the t-shirt you had were covered in blood. "Hey can you tell me your name" one Medic asks "Y/n" she says as the medic takes the cloth away. "ok that looks pretty bad" He says going into his bag and removing the t-shirt the medic poked around your nose making you flinch any time he'd touch a tender spot. "I'm sorry" he'd say.

Once the medic was finished he handed you some tissues to catch the blood. "Ok now we are going to get you onto the stretcher and get you down to the center" you nod as the three medics helped you up and then onto the stretcher. Lando walked up to you "Y/n i am so sorry" Lando apologies once again. "It's fine Lando I'll be fine" you said as they wheeled you away Lando following close behind.

They get to the medical center where you are put on some heavy medication to help with the pain as well as a blood thinner to help with stopping the bleeding. "Y/n we are going to take you to the hospital to get you checked out and make sure it's not a serious break from the looks of it you'll be fine will just have to wear a splint for about 2 weeks" "ooookkkk" you nod lazily the pain meds really doing some work.

The medic leaves to get the ambulance ready. "Sorry about your shirt" you said holding out the bloody McLaren shirt. "It's ok it's not even mine" he said pushing it back into your lap "oh good" you say and closes your eyes. "Y/n" Lando says "mmhm" "I am so sorry" you groaned tired of hearing him apologise "ugh stop apologising" "I can't help it. I feel really bad" you sighs "I'll be fine Lando" the medic comes back and start loading you into the van. Lando once again by your side. In the ambulance the bleeding had finally stopped and your nose was really swollen and starting to bruise.

Once at the hospital the doctor did confirm you had a broken nose but it wasn't severe enough that you needed surgery just needed to set it back and keep a splint on for 2 weeks.

Lando was very sweet the entire time, he waited the entire time. Even after you begged him to leave to celebrate his win with the team he didn't.

Luckily for you there was a 3 week break in between Singapore and Austin. When the Austin race did roll around you didn't have to wear a splint anymore and the swelling had gone so now it was just really bruised, but many still asked what had happened. 

[goldfades]

PARDON MY EMOTIONS / I SHOULD PROBABLY KEEP IT ALL TO MYSELF ── 𝐉𝐁⁵

❪ requested -> "jude angst to fluff WITH PLOT!" ❫

─ pairing | jude bellingham x fem!reader

─ word count | 1.7k

─ warnings | lots of angst to fluff, miscommunication (kind of), jude being an ASSHOLE but making up for it.

─ ev's notes ! | i'm now in my football kick due to the euros and copa america so please send in requests!!! 🤗🎀

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP with England's star football player had its ups and downs.

You got to be a WAG, enjoying the glamorous lifestyle that came with dating Jude. From attending high-profile matches and exclusive events to traveling the world and mingling with other footballers and celebrities, life was never boring. The media attention was overwhelming at times, but you learned to navigate the spotlight and maintain a sense of normalcy.

However, that was the problem. You longed for a sense of normalcy, that was all you wanted was for your relationship. The glitz and glamour of being a WAG was only fun for a bit, not it seemed like you never got a moment to yourself. This was the root of all your relationships, somehow ─ Jude never understood why you wouldn't like all the media attention.

"It's overwhelming," you muttered as you played with the bottom of your of your coffee cup, the warm ceramic providing little comfort. Jude sat across from you, his expression both of concern and confusion.

"What do you mean, overwhelming?" He replied, his gaze locked on you. "This is part of the life we have. The attention, the media... it's just something we have to deal with."

You sighed, looking out the window at the city outside. "But that's just it, Jude. I never wanted this. I love you, and I support your career, but I miss having a private life. I miss being able to go out without cameras following us or people recognizing us everywhere we go."

"Overwhelming for you?" He sighed, his expression hardening. "How do you think I feel? Look, I'm not asking for much ─ I've given you the best life I can,"

You scoffed, he wasn't listening to what you were saying. "This isn't about you or-or what you've given me. I'm grateful, I really am-"

"Doesn't sound like it," Jude cut you off, his voice rising in frustration. "It sounds like you're not happy with anything I've done."

You felt a surge of anger, the words bubbling up before you could stop them. "That's not fair, Jude," you sighed. "I've been by your side through everything, and all I'm asking for is a little understanding. I need space, I need to feel like my own person, not just an accessory to your life."

Jude stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "So, what? You want me to quit football? Give up everything I've worked for?"

"No!" You stood up as well, your heart pounding. "I don't want you to give up anything. I just want you to see things from my perspective for once. I'm losing myself in all of this, and I feel like an accessory you just get to show off."

"Well, you know that's not true," his eyes softened for a moment, but then the frustration returned. "I thought we were a team. I thought we were in this together. But it feels like you're just... giving up."

"I'm not giving up," you said, your voice breaking. "It's hard for me too, like I'm just a pretty face with no dreams or aspirations. That's what they think-"

"Who cares what they think? I know you're more than that, everyone you care about knows that." Jude let out a huff as he glared at you.

"Well it's always just been about you, Jude," you didn't mean it to come out so harsh ─ your tone hard and cold. "Moving to Spain and-and all this, it's hard on me too."

That seemed to hit a nerve because Jude's eyes went wide before he scoffed. "You think this has been easy for me? You think moving to a different country, dealing with the pressure of a new team, and trying to keep us together is all about me?"

You flinched at his words, but your frustration was too strong to back down now. "That's not what I'm saying, Jude. I just want you to see that I'm struggling too. I left everything behind to be with you. My friends, my family, my life — everything."

Jude's face softened slightly, but his jaw was still tight with anger. "I need you to understand that this life comes with sacrifices. We both have to make them, this is what you signed up for."

"I know that, Jude," you said, tears welling up in your eyes as you sniffled. "But sometimes it feels like I'm the only one sacrificing. I feel like I'm losing myself, and I don't know how to fix it."

You wiped away a tear before continuing, averting your gaze from Jude. "I just need to feel like I'm more than just your girlfriend. I need to feel like I have my own purpose."

"You are!" Jude snapped, before sighing.

You sent him a glare as you sighed loudly, getting tired of not being heard. "Don't raise your voice!"

"You're being ungrateful, I've given you everything! A nice house, a nice car, you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?"

That was the last straw. Your mouth was slightly agape as you took in his words. Ungrateful? How could he say that after everything you've sacrificed to be with him?

"Fuck," you sighed as you looked up, meeting his gaze. "Is that how low you think of me? Fine, then. Let them have my position, since apparently, you think I'm just here for the perks," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and anger.

Jude's face fell, a mixture of regret and panic crossing his features. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just frustrated. I love you, and I want us to be happy."

You shook your head, taking a step back. "That's not enough, Jude. Love isn't just about the nice things or the glamorous life. It's about understanding each other. And right now, I don't feel understood."

"That's not what I meant," Jude sighed as he began rubbing his temple. "Jesus, I need some space from you."

You glared as he grabbed his keys from the counter and you watched him walk out of the room, feeling your stomach twist in anxiety and hurt. The sound of the door closing echoed in the silence, leaving you standing alone in the kitchen. Tears streamed down your face as you sank into a chair, feeling the weight of the argument pressing down on you.

You sat there for a while, trying to process everything that had just happened. The love you had for Jude was undeniable, but the constant feeling of being misunderstood was taking its toll. You needed to find a way to reclaim your sense of self, to feel heard in your relationship.

After a few moments, you wiped your tears and took a deep breath. You needed to do something, anything, to clear your mind. You decided to go for a walk, hoping the fresh air would help you think more clearly. Grabbing your jacket, you stepped outside and started walking aimlessly through the streets of the city.

As you walked, you reflected on your relationship with Jude. There had been so many beautiful moments, but lately, it seemed like the challenges were overshadowing the good times. You loved him deeply, but you needed to find a way to communicate better, to make him understand how you felt without it turning into a fight.

After a while, you headed back home, feeling a bit more centered. When you entered the apartment, you heard the TV and sighed. You took off your jacket and made your way to the living room, your gaze landing on Jude was too immersed in the show he was watch to realize you'd come home.

He finally met your gaze and instantly muted the TV, the tension palpable as you walked toward him.

"Hey," you whispered as he gave you a small smile.

He tapped to the spot next to him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitated for a moment before joining him on the couch, the silence between you heavy with tension.

"Hey," he said softly, his eyes filled with regret. "I've been thinking about what you said."

You nodded, your heart aching at the sight of his earnest expression. "Me too. I just... I need you to understand how hard this is for me."

Jude took a deep breath, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. "I know I've been incredibly fucking selfish, and I haven't been listening to you. I didn't realize how much you were sacrificing and how it was affecting you until now and... and I'm sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of relief. "I appreciate that, Jude. I love you, but I need to find my own way, to have something that's mine."

He nodded, squeezing your hand. "Yeah, I get that. And I want to help you find that. We can work on this together, maybe you can look into things that interest you here, find something that makes you happy."

A small smile tugged at your lips. "I’d like that. And maybe we can set some boundaries with the media, try to keep our private life a bit more private."

"Yeah, absolutely," Jude agreed, his eyes shining with determination. "I'll talk to my manager and see what we can do about that. Your happiness is important to me... you are important to me."

You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling a sense of reassurance. "Thank you, Jude. I just want us to be happy together, without all the pressure and stress."

He kissed the top of your head, his arm wrapping around you protectively. "We will, I promise."

"I love you, a lot," Jude continued, his voice soft. "I didn't mean anything I said earlier, I was just angry. I don't know..." He trailed off, before pausing. "I don't know what I'd do with you, baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his brown ones, and you could see the depth of his feelings for you. "I love you too, Jude," you whispered, your heart swelling with emotion.

As you cuddled together on the couch, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you, you felt a sense of peace.

"How about we start fresh tomorrow?" Jude suggested, his voice gentle. "We can spend the day together, just us. No media, no distractions. Just enjoying each other's company."

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief. "I'd love that. It sounds perfect."

He smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection. "Good. It's a date then."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[taliseby]

There is No Hurry

First Time Together Headcanons

Inc. Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento, and Kamo Choso. Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ I am not responsible for your media consumption.) This is first time TOGETHER not first time in general. This is written with Chubby!Reader in mind but I don't think I made any specifics in this.

Gojo Satoru:

When you tell him you're ready he makes it a whole event. He takes you shopping, dinner, and a nice drink at his place to help calm any nerves you may have. He is such a gentleman about it all, but inside he's just itching to get his hands on you and it shows. So many subtle touches all night. The way he stares at you when you're trying on clothes and showing them off makes it look like he wants to eat you alive. All throughout dinner he’s holding your hand, rubbing your skin anywhere his hand falls.

Once you're leading him to the bedroom, feeling up his chest and undoing his suit he's grinning wide. He teases you for how eager you are, as if he hasn't already thought about all the positions he wants to put you in. 

The moment you give him the green light he's so touchy and can't keep his lips off you. Your own lips, your jaw and neck; anything he can reach. He's tugging on your clothes. Loves peeling the pretty little dress he bought you off. 

He gets you on his bed and spreads your legs. He fucking moans at the sight of your glistening cunt on display for him. He can already feel his cock twitching eagerly to get to you. 

Uses his deliciously long fingers on you first, taking his time to tease and stretch you out. He loves how warm and wet you are for him and can't help but lean down and press a kiss to your clit. You whine and wiggle for more from him and its music to his ears. 

“Are you needy, baby? I said I'd take care of you, do you think I wouldn't follow through on that?” He teases. He marvels at the way you shiver when he slides his digits out. The wide eyed look you give him is just too divine to deny. 

He grips his cock and teases your clenching entrance until you're practically begging him to just fuck you already. He eases that first inch in and he swears he saw heaven's gates. The way you greedily suck him in has him shuddering and closing his eyes to concentrate. When they open again he’s absolutely blessed by the look on your face, contorted between discomfort and pleasure as your pussy stretches to accommodate him. 

By the time he's fully buried inside you, he's panting and whimpering against your ear. His pace starts slow and careful but he's so hot and desperate he picks up pace once he knows you're okay. As soon as a little plead for “More.” escapes your parted lips, he’s granting your request with enthusiasm.

His aftercare is so soft. He cleans you up and asks you what you want from the kitchen. He's so cuddly after the fact too, still an absolute yapper tho. But the praise is insane, whispering against your temple how good you did and how happy he was that you wanted him like this. Refuses to leave your side the rest of the night, clinging to you like velcro.

Geto Suguru:

So happy when you come to him and tell him you're ready. He feels like he's being given the greatest honor possible. He gives you a teasing smirk and kisses your cheek. “I'd be more than happy to take you to bed, angel.” 

Dating Geto meant you've had many make-out sessions and heavy petting before this. The feeling of his hands and massaging at your body was familiar at this point. He plays with your body like a perfectly tuned instrument. Even just kissing him feels so intense and intimate.

He gets you undressed and on the bed. Just when you think he's going in for the main event he settles between your legs and pushes them up. “I can't spend another day without knowing how your pussy tastes, baby.” 

His flattened tongue licks from your hole to your clit so agonizingly slow, making you feel dizzy as he gathers as much of your arousal on his tongue. His arms wrapped around your thighs to keep you still and spread open. His face is already flushed as he latches onto your clit and sucks, making your back arch. Suguru eases two of his fingers into your pussy, slowly working you open for him. His dark eyes stay locked on your expression, not once looking away from a sight he’s sure he’ll never forget. His tongue works you over and a harsh suckle on your clit finally pushes you over the edge of your first orgasm. He guides you through it, pressing a kiss to your clit once you’re coming down. 

He's so gentle when he finally has his cock lined up with your cunt. He's taking the time to visually worship your body while he waits for you to give him the go ahead. He slowly pushes the head of his cock into your squeezing walls, pupils dilating as he watches you gasp from the beginning stretch. He coos praises, encouraging you as he feeds each inch slowly into your cunt. He slowly rocks his hips to work you open and get you used to his size as he waits for those tell-tale signs that you want more. His pace isn’t rushed but does pick up, keeping steady and smooth. 

His hands are anchored down on your hips, allowing you only a bit of movement as he drives you both closer to your peaks. His brows furrowed in concentration as he focuses on working you up and up, higher and higher till you’re practically delirious. “Come on, angel. Cum on my cock, lemme feel it. Goood, so fucking good.~”

His aftercare is SO attentive. He massages any muscles you may have stressed. His voice a soft purr as he asks you what you need, already having grabbed you a water bottle beforehand so he didn’t have to immediately leave you. He kisses your face and neck, thanking you for letting him have you so intimately.

Nanami Kento:

THE gentleman. Oh, the way he blushes when you tell him you're ready to finally be intimate is a sight to SEE. A light pink dusting his sculpted cheeks despite his serious expression. “If you’re sure, dear, I’d be honored.” 

He romances you SO good. Makes you dinner, lets you talk about whatever you feel, bantering back and forth. You wouldn’t even know he’s imagining how you’ll look and sound once you're spread out under him. His hand taking yours, sitting on the table as he admires you completely. 

He’s so respectful, letting you guide him to your bedroom before he’s stripping you down. His hands caressing you with each layer he removes, admiring the lingerie set you picked for the occasion. “How pretty, honey. You know how much I like this color on you.” Though it doesn’t last long as he peels them off, hiding a smirk at the wet patch on your panties. He guides you back to the bed and lays you down before taking off any piece of clothing you left him in. If he’s honest, he’s a little embarrassed to be bare in front of you for the first time, but doesn’t dwell on it long as he looks at you. He’s mapping out every inch of your skin, any marks and imperfections though he thinks they're more than perfect.

He starts out slow, kissing you and letting you feel him up as well. He shivers when you touch him, so in love with your hands being anywhere on him. He chuckles at how eager you are, trying to bring him closer. “Patience, honey, I promise I’ll make you feel good.”

He brings a hand to your core, letting his fingers slide through your sopping folds, feeling how much he affects you. “Is this for me? I must be quite charming to get such a reaction from you.” He eases in one finger, slowly working it in and out, in and out, watching as you whine and beg for more. He grants only another digit, letting it stretch you open a little more. He melts at every little reaction you give him, kissing you all over as he makes you cum. 

“Are you ready? Come on, I need to hear you.” He encourages, wanting to hear you squeeze out a plea for him to “Please, Ken. I need you so bad.” Before finally sliding his cock into your cunt. His breath hitches as he feels your velvety walls enclose around him, drawing a deep groan from his throat. He gently eases in bit by bit, rocking his hips a bit to make the adjustment easier. Once he’s settled deep inside you, he pauses, face flushed and eyes hooded. He marvels at how you look beneath him. It’s better than anything he could have imagined or dreamed up. Seeing you already worked up and messy from his cock is better than any praise he could get. 

He lets you decide how fast or slow he goes, lets you pick down to the force and rhythm of his thrusts, he wants you to enjoy this more than anything. “I’ll feel good regardless, dear, please, tell me what you need. I’ll give you anything.” 

His aftercare is gentle and loving to its very core. He cleans you up and runs you a bath, joining you so he can help ease any tension left over. Even as you relax his hands are gently massaging and caressing your body, admiring how wonderful you are for him. “I love you, darling. Thank you for loving me like you do.”

Kamo Choso:

This boy has very little experience as is, so your first time together is gonna be slow and intimate. He wants to learn everything about your body and how you want to be pleasured. He loves hearing your voice, and even if you're quiet he tries to coax you to talk to him through it all. His goal is to make you feel good and that's exactly what he plans to do. “Does that feel good?”  “Here, baby?”  “Like this? Do you like it like this?” 

He's absolutely feeling you up every second. His hands are always in search of new places to touch and squeeze. His favorite place to hold you by is your thighs. His fingers dig into the flesh, admiring how it dimples under his touch. 

He lets you set the pace. He wants you to ride him so, so bad. He'll look up at you like he's witnessing a goddess right in front of him. He can't keep his eyes off the faces you make and the way you move. His hands continue to wander as he tries to keep from thrusting up into you, so overwhelmed by how tight your cunt squeezes him. The kind of soft sex that is just so intense you could cry. He wants you kissing him through it all. He’s constantly pulling you back down for another kiss, another chance to push his tongue into your mouth and taste you.

More times than you can count do you catch his eyes lingering on where you two are joined. His face is so red, his mouth hangs open as moans and whines spill from him between excited panting. He feels so dirty but loves the sight of your pussy sliding along his dick, making it shiny and wet. His brows knitted together as he commits the sight to memory. “So pretty. Lovely, you’re so pretty down here. Pretty all over.~”

His lips latch onto the skin of your neck and chest, licking and sucking all over, unintentionally leaving marks all over. He gets so overwhelmed and excited to be so close to you. It’s all he’s ever wanted. 

His aftercare is pretty simple but no less effective. He helps you clean up and lays with you, cuddling up to you and reminding you how much he loves you and how lucky he feels to be with you. He wants to stay close, huffing when you get up for any reason.

Requests are open!

[shurisasthmaticgf]

the curls are curling: lando norris x black social media influencer fem! reader

summary: the secret behind why his curls have been consistently looking perfect is revealed.

authors note: i am still very new to formula one so please don't jump me if there is some slight inaccuracies. i did my best to look things up if i wasn't sure about them. this fic isn't based off of any grand prix in particular either. also, this is a work of fiction meaning it's not REAL so please remember that as well! constructive feedback is heavily encouraged and very appreciated 🫶🏽

heat pooled through the open windows of the house as you ran around to try and get yourself ready for the long day ahead. you woke up an hour ago to give yourself two hours to get ready because today was a race weekend. usually, you only needed about an hour to get you and your boyfriend out the door but today you'd gotten up earlier to film a vlog.

the whole social media influencer thing was still fairly new for you, only having started to consistently vlog and post a few months ago. before you'd started dating lando you were posting here and there about your day to day as a university student and intern for a large company in the city. every so often one of your videos got a couple hundred thousand views but you didn't really mind that your other content only got a few likes...that was just how tiktok's algorithm worked.

once you graduated from university and your internship ended you didn't have much to vlog about until you decided to film a race weekend and post it. what you didn't expect was the video to get millions of views and likes overnight. a massive influx of fans followed but you didn't really pay too much mind to the number, this was just something you liked to do and people also liked to watch. with time you ended up opening a youtube channel where you posted longer vlogs and other videos, and tiktok became a place where you posted 1-3 minute clips of your longer videos. one thing you never really did was center your entire vlog around your boyfriend. sure, lando was the entire reason you ended up at races but you were also your own person...that and lando was oddly camera shy when it came to your vlogs so he often wanted you to edit him out if he happened to end up in the frame.

which is how you ended up in your bedroom with your tripod pointed the camera directly at you. you smiled widely, hoping that it masked the fact that you were nearly half asleep, "good morning everyone! it's race day and i'm gonna be taking you along with me. everyone's been asking for a longer race day vlog so i'm here to give you all what you want. first lets get into the fit- these pajamas were sent to me from Brooks Avenue, if you like them you can use the code Y/N for a little discount on your purchase!" you backed up to show off your pink and green pajamas that would have definitely cost an arm an a leg if they hadn't come in a PR package. the matching pink and green satin bonnet on your head slowly slipped down your forehead leaving you to push it back up with an annoyed huff. you explained to the camera once more, "okay and first i'm gonna brush my teeth then do my skincare routine...he's in the shower right now so the lens might get fogged up, sorry in advance." you knocked on the bathroom door to let your boyfriend know you were coming in before pulling your skincare products out of your travel bag. quickly you brushed your teeth with until you felt like you'd gotten rid of every trace of morning breath.

just as you finished your skincare routine, the shower turned off and you slipped out of the bathroom. while lando finished in the bathroom you sat back down at the vanity and situated the camera back in front of you. slowly you slipped the bonnet from your head and untied the silk scarf under it, letting the large twists in your hair fall against your shoulders. to the camera you explained, "it's gonna be really hot today so i'm just gonna pull the twists back with a ribbon and call it a day i think." you pulled a jar of edge control and a brush from your bag and began styling your baby hairs, effortlessly into swirls and swoops. a laugh fell past your lips as you admitted, "honestly the only reason i still do this is so my forehead looks slightly less...megamind-esque in pictures." when you finished you tied another scarf messily around your hairline and began gathering your twists into a ponytail to secure it with a holder and ribbon.

the bathroom door opened and lando walked back into your room, fully dressed but his button down left wide open exposing his bare torso. in his hands he held a blow dryer and two bottles, one leave in conditioner and a gel you'd bought for him a few weeks ago. you finished tying the bow around your ponytail then took the two bottles from him and plugged the blow dryer into the wall. a hand gently pulled on your hand and you looked up to see sleepy smile grace his lips, "good morning, beautiful." you drew closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him pull you in by the waist. his head nuzzled into your shoulder as your hand found the back of his head, stroking his hair softly with your fingers you murmured, "hi baby." you could feel the shy smile he wore against your shoulder until you pulled away from him. you pulled a robe from the back of the door and told him, "put this on." he knew most of the reason was so he didn't stain his shirt with hair products but another part of it had to be the fact that his shirt was wide open.

lando sat in front of the camera and you laughed at how awkward he looked compared to normal. you prompted, "baby, say hi to everyone. they ask for you all the time." he stiffly waved a hand in front of the camera and you sighed, "i don't know why you act so funny around my camera but everyone else it's fine." he mumbled a soft, "because it's you..." but only the mic on the camera caught it. he sat on the bench in front of you and slightly leaned back into your body before letting his eyes flutter shut.

meanwhile you showed the leave in conditioner to the camera, "this is the kinky curly knot today leave in-" despite his eyes being shut lando let out a small laugh and you asked, "what?" he mumbled cheekily, "kinky." you let out a exasperated sigh, "oh god you're like a child...anyways i was saying, i put a little of this in his hair but not too much just a tiny amount to add moisture." squeezing the leave in conditioner into your palm then applying it to his hair you hummed along to a sza song that ran through your head. the gentle work of your fingers running along his scalp nearly lulled lando back to sleep. you worked through his hair with a practiced ease, adding product and coaxing the curls atop his head to take perfect shape. not wanting to disturb his peace, you silently showed the matching brand's curling custard and then applied that lightly to his hair. once you'd finished you turned on the blow dryer, accidentally jump scaring your boyfriend under you. a soft melodic laugh fell past your lips and one hand fell to his shoulder before you leant down and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, "my bad babe." the camera didn't miss the way he leaned into your touch, pushing his cheek closer to you with his shoulders dropping further in relaxation.

not even half an hour later you were done and the light brown curls on his head were perfectly defined. you wiped your hands on the hand towel you'd slung over your shoulder earlier and laughed when you realized your boyfriend literally fell asleep. you gently cupped under his chin and pressed another kiss to his cheek. just above a whisper you mumbled, "all done, bubs. " he opened his eyes and smiled while you mused, “my pretty boy.” his cheeks flushed slightly, “thank you” and you brushed a few curls into place before looking at his reflection, "of course." he stood up and pulled you out of the frame to gave you a quick kiss before going downstairs where you'd meet him when you finished getting dressed.

the white and navy blue floral sundress you wore was both nice and simple enough to wear for today. simple gold jewelry and a pair of white sandals finished off your look and you grabbed the camera to show your reflection in the full length mirror on the wall, "all dressed so i'm gonna go meet lando downstairs and i'll see you all a little bit later!" you stopped recording and went downstairs to find your boyfriend sitting and ready to go, his cheeks burning pink when he laid eyes on you. a subtle fluttering erupted in your stomach at the familiar gaze, the one that made you feel like the only girl in the world.

*extra*

you scrolled through your social media accounts, something you never really did if you didn't have to. the first thing that came to your attention was the flood of pictures and comments that were about your boyfriend's hair. for the past few races you'd been doing his hair and more and more fans were noticing it looked better than normal. honestly, you found it amusing that people were bringing it up and so much at that, so you decided to add to the conversation just a bit:

fans reactions to recent vlog upload:

[disneyprincemuke]

midnights * mv1

since your breakup, max hadn’t thought of you. until he stumbled home by himself in the middle of the night.

pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader

warnings: honestly just heartbreak all around

notes: i started writing this when i found out my ex-boyfriend was dating someone new, and now here i am 💀 and i fear i am on my phone once more; i will credit the gif in the morning when i get to school

(next)

the lock clicks as max turns his key, the sound echoing in the eerily empty hallway behind him. he turns the knob and was greeted by his empty apartment.

max hasn’t been home in almost 2 weeks. the races and his media commitments, topped by other projects just made it so rare to find the time to come home. but that’s not the only reason he’s avoiding the confinements of these four walls.

he flips the switch in the entryway, slipping his shoes off. immediately, he notices the vast difference in the way his apartment looks — how strangely lifeless it feels.

he can’t exactly pinpoint what it is and it takes him a second to realise.

you’d emptied his apartment of your belongings.

the breakup happened in the 2 weeks he was away from home. it actually took place a night before his race. he’d grown tired of it too, the neverending misunderstandings and the fights.

so he let you walk away; you hopped on a flight back home.

he hasn’t exactly had the time to think about you since then. you’d only texted him once: two days ago to tell him that victoria will be the one with the cats until he comes back. he’d only replied with a simple ‘okay, thank you’.

he didn’t really know what to say either. he stared at your text message for 5 minutes before daniel called him over to start filming a promotional shoot. that was all he could come up with.

max walks further into the apartment you’d once shared. his eyes are darting all over the place, taking mental notes of spots that look different from the way he had left it.

the framed picture of you with the cats is gone, your magazines on the coffee table, the bowl of your collection of scrunchies as a ‘conversation-starter’ centrepiece — it’s all gone.

his apartment didn’t even feel like home. all of the things that made it feel like home just isn’t in here anymore.

max turns his body, taking a glance at the entryway. even your house slippers aren’t where they usually are. it’s as if you were never even here.

he takes a walk further in, glancing at the sofa. it seems so lifeless now without the teddy bear you brought in, and the blanket that you insisted was only for the living room.

he admits he misses the teddy bear. though, he was opposed to the idea at first, claiming that it’s taking up precious space that you could both be maximising together. it proved a lot more useful when he found himself hugging it when he’s on the sofa watching a show with you.

the remotes for all the appliances are no longer scattered over the furniture mysteriously. they are all lined up neatly on the edge of the coffee table, grouped accordingly. you hated arranging the console remotes for the simple fact that you were too lazy to reach forward an inch to start playing.

and it finally hits him, that in the moment of pride, and simply protecting his peace at the moment, he has now lost you.

for good, it seems.

max drops himself on the couch. he’s still looking around, desperately wishing that this was some cruel dream he’s in. he will wake up with you by his side, your hair in his face with his arm draped lazily around your body. he will wake up and you are still his, and he is yours.

he can only sigh. audbily, at the predicament he has found himself in. at the time, it didn’t occur to him to fight for you; to ask you to stay. he didn’t have it in him to ask you to find reason within yourself to change your mind.

then he hears a soft meow, followed by sounds of pitter patter against the floor of the apartment. before he knew it, the couch dips ever so slightly and then there’s jimmy climbing onto his lap to greet him.

then he hears actual footsteps, slippers dragging against the floor. he turns his head slightly, his one hand patting the feline’s head, and meets victoria’s eyes.

“max?”

“victoria.”

a set of lights by the windows are turned on, granting him a look at his younger sister. she’s standing by the door of the guest bedroom with a jacket hanging loosely around her shoulders.

she has a frown on her face, and a look that screamed she didn’t know what to say to him.

and then his heart breaks. instead of walking through those apartment doors hand in hand with you, giggling from the high you’d get from the bar in his private jet, he is sitting her all by himself. met by his younger sister, who would be gone by morning to go back to her family.

max can only smile sadly at her. he shrugs. “we broke up.”

“i know,” she answers softly, nodding understandingly. she approaches him cautiously with her arms slightly held up. “i’m sorry.”

“me too.”

max scrambles from his position and gladly takes in the hug that she’s offered him. he suddenly feels so small, his heart aching in his chest and his throat closing up. he feels the tears in his eyes as he hugs his younger sister slightly tighter.

she rubs her back up and down, hugging him even tighter when she feels his chest stagger slightly. now he’s sniffling and hands are moving up to his face to wipe the tears falling from his eyes.

“give it time,” victoria whispers, swaying slightly in an attempt to comfort the driver. “i promise everything will fall back into place. slowly, but surely.”

max sighs deeply. “i don’t know why i didn’t stop her from walking away.”

she pulls away from the hug, then tugs his hands towards the couch when he chases her embrace. she leans back, pulling max in for a tighter — and slightly more comfortable — hug.

“i know it sucks now,” she rests her cheek on the top of his head, squeezing his shoulder empathetically. “but let things sort itself out. it will be okay.”

there, in his sister’s arms, he cried for the first time since your breakup. he had been so busy that he hadn’t been able to process the whole situation at all.

the way you had shot daggers at him through your eyes that night, how he snapped at you when he noticed and how the fight had erupted from something barely of significance.

it was just over a cup of coffee — how you had made it with 2 sugars instead of 3.

from there, the topics of contention had evolved into something bigger. in the haze of both of your anger, past arguments were brought up and new ones were created just in that night.

then both of you grew tired. you ended up next to him on the couch of his driver’s room in silence. and you said, “i can’t do this anymore, max.”

and he had said to you, “i’m tired.”

but what he should’ve said was: “i’m sure we can find a way through this.”

but that’s not what he said to you. he stayed silent when you brought it up: “i think we need to break up.”

frankly, he didn’t really know what to say. at first, he was dumbfounded at what you said. never did he think, that when you first start dating, that a breakup would ever present itself.

max told himself, about 4 months into the relationship that there’s absolutely no way he’d end up with anybody else except you.

now, it seems he’s going to have to go through all of this by himself. start the whole thing all over again, unless something changes.

[wileys-russo]

‘April fools!’ Arsenal dressing room/ field

april fools II arsenal wfc

"kyra hurry up!" you hissed at the younger girl who was fussing about, tossing a boot at her head as it connected. "hey! thats not helping me go any faster dickhead." kyra huffed hauling it back as you ducked and it clattered against the lockers making both your eyes widen.

"nobody is coming." laia stuck her head out of the change rooms and gave you both a thumbs up behind her back, the dedicated lookout in this little mission.

"if we get caught in here all of this is for nothing." you warned, eyes darting to the door and bouncing nervously on the balls of your feet. "yeah yeah yeah just make sure nobody comes in then!" kyra rolled her eyes and turned back to it.

"come on ky lunch will be done soon!" you groaned quietly as finally kyra closed the last locker door with a click. "done! god relax you're gonna go grey." the australian teased ruffling your hair as the three of you collected the evidence and high tailed it out.

"whats our excuse again?" kyra stopped you once you'd disposed of said evidence, a hand on both of on your shoulders. "my hamstring was tight, we went to physio, nobody was there so you helped me tape it." you echoed, lifting the edge of your shorts to how the horrendous home taping job that solidified your story.

"that is so bad." laia shook her head at kyras efforts with a frown making you chuckle and kyra push at her shoulder. "didn't see you offering to help codi!" the australian rolled her eyes at the catalonian who shrugged.

"i only agreed to be the lookout." your friend reminded pointing her finger at the pair of you. "yes and if we get caught, you were never involved." you patted the taller girls shoulder condescendingly.

"good. now just don't look suspicious!" kyra poked at your cheeks as you smacked her hand away with a scowl, following after you as you grabbed your trays, the three of you sitting at different tables.

"what have you been up to?" you'd barely sat down at a table before leah appeared, dropping into the seat beside you and sending you a firm look. with a mouthful of food you rolled your eyes and lifted your shorts to show the taping job.

"who did that monstrosity?" leah scoffed eyes raking your leg as you swallowed. "kyra, we couldn't find the staff." you shrugged, stephs eyes narrowing now across the table at the mention of her own national teammate.

"you were with kyra?" steph questioned clearly suspicious. "yes. am i not allowed to hang out with kyra?" you shot back, squirming as leah pinched your leg, shoving your national captain away from you with a glare.

"the pair of you are nothing but trouble." steph shook her head as you scoffed. "steffy you told me to befriend her and make her feel welcome when she signed!" you argued, shoveling in another forkful of food, well aware your window of time to do so was dwindling.

"because you're both the same age and i wanted her to feel part of the team! leah told you the same about making laia feel welcomed." steph argued as you huffed and swallowed your mouthful.

"which i did. so what im hearing is i did what i was asked and the only people who seem to have any issues with it...are the two people who asked me to do it? makes perfect sense!" you rolled your eyes again.

"she makes a point." lia chimed in with a shrug as you shot her a grin, the swiss woman near always taking your side. "you would think that." leah groaned at her best friend who stole a tomato off your tray with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

thankfully the topic seemed to be dropped, you hardly contributing to the conversation as you busied yourself eating, ignoring the warnings that you were going to choke yourself as time dwindled down and the girls all started to group up and head to the media room.

finishing your food you returned your tray, following after lia and steph who'd kindly waited for you while you finished. a third person joined you, arm setting over your shoulder as she fell into step with you.

"you've done something today. what did you do?" alessia asked quietly, knowing you all too well having played alongside you for years now before she'd made the move to arsenal.

"nothing! why does everyone keep saying that?" you huffed trying to shrug her off but the taller girl didn't budge. "because you're a little shit, and you've been far too well behaved recently." alessia stated honestly with a snicker.

"god you pull a prank one time and get a reputation!" you groaned with a shake of her head. "one time!?" alessia scoffed in disbelief, tugging at your ear with a roll of her eyes. "alright, maybe a few times." you smiled innocently as the two of you entered the media room, kyra waving you down where she'd saved you a seat.

"not a chance." leah grabbed the back of your top and tugged you into the seat in front of her, sitting you beside laura as alessia sat down on your other side and you heard kyra groan as steph took the seat she'd saved for you.

without kyra or laia to chat with your attempts to distract yourself during the media briefing failed, leah having no problems shoving your shoulder in warning from behind anytime you tried to speak to those around you.

eventually you gave up all together, crossing your arms and sinking into your seat, alessia chuckling in amusement and you glared at her as she spoke quietly with lotte, leah of course making no move to tell her off.

you'd honestly forgotten all about your earlier activities by the time media finished and everyone started to head back to the change rooms to collect their belongings.

but you were swiftly reminded as now without many of the older girls around, all too eager to get home to bother with supervising you, laia and kyra fell into step on either of your sides, the three of you hurrying as to not miss any of the action.

you made it just in time, the first glitter bomb going off as laia subtly hurried to grab all three of your bags, the least suspect of your trio as you and kyra hovered by the door ready for a hasty escape.

as everyone was staring at a glittery vic and teyah in shock, alessia was the next victim opening her locker and getting a faceful of glitter, jolting backwards and letting out a cry.

but right as the three of them started to look around a change room filled with laughter for the culprit, things took a slightly less favorable turn.

you hadn't realised that steph had hung back to talk with jonas, lia offering to grab her keys and bag since they had plans to go and get a coffee and go for a walk with calvin after training, leah of course inviting herself as she stuck to her best friends side.

similarly caitlin had ducked off for a quick shower, katie stepping in to pack up her girlfriends bags for her so they could head off once she was done.

so right as alessia's eyes found yours and narrowed, jaw clenched and fists balled as she started toward you, the other two glitter bombs went off but did not hit their intended targets.

"april fools!" laia cheered happily not reading the room as kyra winced and you smacked your hand against your head, the catalonian looking at you both with a confused frown at your reactions.

now seven glitter covered woman advanced toward you, leah, alessia and katie looking particularly vengeful as you laughed nervously and felt kyra grab your hand.

"it was all her idea! codi run!" but you gasped as kyra used your interjoined hand to shove you forward, now grabbing laia and sprinting off to safety as you scrambled back to your feet.

"come on! its washable glitter its harmless, nobody got hurt!" you pleaded clasping your hands together and backing up as they continued to advance toward you.

"nobody got hurt...yet." katie warned seriously as your eyes widened and you tried to dart out of the room, but kyra's getaway scheme had worked as you didn't have enough time and hands grabbed at you, your body hauled up and over alessia's shoulder.

"hey hey hey where are we going!" you struggled in her grip, leah and katie following now as you were carried out of the room and everyone else hung back to shower.

"to the ice baths. we're gonna see if you can beat stina's record kid...seven minutes for seven victims seems fair." leah grinned as alessia kicked open the recovery room door.

"what come on its fucking freezing today and i did not act alone this isn't fair!" you groaned punching alessia's back before katie grabbed your hands rendering them useless as alessia piped up next, and you'd unfortunately forgotten she was your ride for today.

"and then you can walk home in the rain and think all about your beloved april fools."

[sparkrls]

simple questions

MASTERLIST

Summary: in which Harry is eager to makes his girl happy and she just wants answers to simple questions

Author’s Note: a blurb i wrote based on these Harry pics because I am NOT over it

Word Count: 2.6k words

•••

Her boyfriend was an idiot. That’s what Y/N resolved as she watched him stumble over his words as he was asked a simple question of, “Who’s the girl you’re with?”. It wasn’t even anyone important asking, just a fan who’d noticed Harry and felt brave enough to ask for a photo, albeit with hands that shook as she passed over her phone.

It had started as Y/N’s idea. She knew she was entirely at fault for Harry’s nerves, but it wasn’t even completely her idea. She had just asked him, “Have you ever had a public outing with a partner?”

It was an innocent question, asked due to pure curiosity, not with any ulterior motive as Harry suspected. He had given her a look, trying to get a read on her intent behind those words. He tended to do that a lot. Doubt people’s words, like they had some double meaning, and they were trying to trick him into making a fool of himself. She had a tough time getting him to trust her enough as to not doubt her as much, but the trust issues slipped through every once in a while.

Harry then stumbled over his words, the way a newborn doe might trip and fall as it clambered onto its frail legs. Simple questions were never his forte. He could answer you deep, philosophical questions and ponder them in his mind without hesitation, but it was the simple questions that tripped him up. A whole conundrum, if you asked Y/N.

Eventually, Harry admitted, “No.”

She’d stared at him with a deadpan expression, because it had taken an extraordinary amount of ‘um’s and ‘uh’, along with some weird humming sounds to get a one-word answer from him.

So she followed up with, “Don’t you wanna?”

“Do you want me to do it with you?”

“Well, no, I was just asking because-“

“I’ll do it with you,” Harry rushed to say.

Sometimes he tended to rush himself into doing favors for people he didn’t really want to do. A tendency lots of overly kind people had. And he’d always have this particular warm, soft tone when he did. And she loved that little tone that indicated he was feeling kind. But lots of times he regretted agreeing to those things and would stumble home to her apartment, grumbling and griping about whatever stupidity he’d been forced to do. So it grew into a strange mixture of adoration and disdain for that tone. Because she never liked to see her boy tired to the bone because he was too polite to back away from a promise. (Although she did love running her fingers through his soft hair until he fell asleep with his head on her lap)

This time, however, Harry wasn’t using that warm tone. It was a much different one, a bit of a higher pitch, and with a much sweeter undertone. It was a tone he used when he was trying to win the favor of his girlfriend.

She chuckled, “Baby, I didn’t ask you to-“

Harry had one arm rested on her waist and the other underneath the pillow she rested her head on. “But I wanna,” He said with a small pout, an almost whiny quality to his words. His cherry lips looked so kissable when they stuck out that way. “Wanna show the world you’re mine.” He leaned up until his nose was nuzzling her neck, and his lips brushed against her collarbone. “Mine and only mine.”

His lips clamped down on her skin, sucking at it for a moment before allowing his teeth to nibble lightly. Sharp stings followed wherever his teeth sunk in so deliciously, sending sparks throughout her whole body.

Y/N had learned early on that Harry had a very possessive side to him. He’d spent years feeling that everything he was belonged to the public, including all the dirty details of his personal life and his friends and partners. And now he had regained that privacy (he’d had to pry it by force from the unfailing grip of the media), he wanted to claim everything as his own.

It was why Harry was so fiercely protective of his friends and loyal to a fault. He felt the incessant urge to always stick by their side. He finally knew what it was like to have something belong to him, and it was his greatest fear to lose it.

After a lot of therapy, communication and compromise, Harry had not only found a healthy balance for himself but for his relationship with Y/N as well. A certain possessiveness that she wouldn’t deny him because she could never refuse anything he asked, and it was just part of who he was. But a harsh line as to not become controlling or overprotective as Harry had threatened to do in previous relationships.

The habits snuck into their daily lives, as Harry had a tendency to leave marks where everyone could see them. Therefore, the hickeys on the neck which Y/N always had to cover with concealer because she despised turtlenecks with a passion.

“Love, I’m not doubting your choice,” she began to speak, interrupted by Harry leaving open-mouthed kisses from her jugular up to the base of her jaw. And it was getting hard to think straight when his lips were on her and his tongue was tracing delightful patterns.

Y/N cleared her throat trying to focus. “However, I don’t want this to be an impulse decision. Think it through.”

Harry separated his lips from her skin long enough to murmur, “I’m sure. I wanted to make it public to everyone soon anyways, might as well go out together.” As he spoke, his warm breath grazed against her sensitive skin, causing goosebumps.

“Go out where?”

“The Man U match, obviously.”

And that was why Y/N spent the next week fussing over her choice of hairstyle, whether to leave her natural waves or straighten it or straighten it and then create strategically messy waves. And then freaking out on the phone to her best friend about whether her outfit was a good choice or not. Because of course, she had to look stylish for her first public appearance with Harry- those photos would be circulating the internet until the day she died- but she also had to dress for the unforgiving winter and plan for rain. Even if she was going to be in the VIP suite with Harry, the entrance and exit could possibly have rain, and she couldn’t always count on an umbrella. She’d learned that the five times she’d gotten stuck in the rain while waiting at a too-full bus stop in peak traffic in London.

The point was, Y/N didn’t want to let down Harry nor the fans by wearing the wrong hairstyle, clothes or makeup. Resulting in overthinking every tiny detail down to the jewelry.

The morning of, it was Harry who soothed her nerves saying, “Love, if you don’t want to do it we don’t have to. It was always a choice.”

“I want to, but it’s just…” She looked up at him with a shaky breath. “It’s scary.”

“We can wait,” Harry replied, placing her face in his hands, his thumb caressing her cheek. “We’ll stay home and watch the game on the telly, we’ll wear our sweats and I’ll order in some food from that Thai place you’ve been wanting to try.”

Taking a good look at Harry from top to bottom, from those dress pants that clung to his thighs in the most delightful manner, and the button-up that tragically hid his well-sculpted biceps to the sweater vest he’d bought the first time they’d gone shopping together. He looked so soft and warm, yet so confident and sure of himself. Like a scale that had finally found balance.

Harry had an energy that screamed youthful, but he’d recently settled into the warm feeling of peace that came not with age, but the realization that chaos wasn’t necessary to be happy. He wasn’t afraid of his career always being on the chopping block, or the precarious opinions of outsiders. He had found himself, and with it, found an inner peace he’d never had before.

And it showed. From the way he dressed, to the courage of him showing up to their hotel room with the surprise of a shaved head one day, to the way he carried himself so firmly. He was centered. He was calm. And he was happy.

This was the first time everyone else would get to see Harry after the latest stage of his self-discovery. And Y/N wouldn’t be the one to hold him back. “No, I want to go,” she said firmly. “But I want you to pick my outfit.”

To no one’s surprise, Harry picked an outfit that was primarily made up of clothing from his own closet, completely shoving aside the outfit she had previously picked out for herself because, “Babe, I have better taste than you.”

Y/N didn’t have bad taste, but when it came to fashion, she laid her trust in Harry… most of the time.

The only thing he kept were the jeans she’d picked out, a new pair she’d gotten recently which flattered her figure. They were high waisted and cropped at the ankle, the color a grayish tone of the classic denim. Most importantly, they highlighted her ass. The one thing that no matter how insecure she was, she always loved. And Harry did as well, if the way he swatted her ass playfully a couple of times a day was any indication.

He paired it with a long-sleeve white top that clung to her skin, a green sweater on top that was slightly baggy on her figure as it was one of his and one a black coat that would keep her warm. Harry was careful to make sure all the layers would keep her warm even in the winter air, as he knew she tolerated much less cold than he did.

“Cute,” Harry said with a dimpled smile when she finished putting on the outfit and gave him a twirl to showcase it. “You’re really pretty, darling.” He hooked his fingers through her belt loops and yanked her forward until she almost toppled into his chest as he sat on the edge of his bed. He gave her a soft smile, the kind he gave her right before a heartfelt message- “And ten times prettier because I chose the outfit.”

Y/N swatted his arm playfully at his joke, and he simply laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. “It’s a basic outfit.”

“Aw, don’t be mean because the outfit I picked out is better than the one you did.”

“You’re such a bully.”

Harry grinned at her. “Is that so?”

She nodded in mock earnestness. “Yeah. I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Harry replied simply.

“No, I don’t.”

With a couple of more kisses which included wiping the lipstick from Harry’s lips, the couple got into the car and held hands as the engine started and drove them to the stadium.

“So, we’re cheering for Man U, right?”

Harry sighed heavily. “Love, do you even know me?”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” She said with a chuckle, raising her hands defensively. “Man U for football and Green Bay Packers for the other football.” She gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry baby, but I know nothing about football.”

“I’m going to be explaining all the rules, aren’t I?”

Y/N’s silence was enough of a response.

But then it was time for the most dreaded moment of the day, when they entered the stadium hand-in-hand, walking past press and media and paparazzi.

Harry laced his fingers between hers and gave her a small squeeze before opening the car door and stepping out. He was quick, making her almost jog to catch up with his long strides. He’d warned her he would move hastily as to avoid lingering around the cameras longer than necessary.

There was one quick snap and a small flash and then-

They were inside the stadium and no press could chase them in any longer.

“Wait, that was it?” Y/N asked, glancing at the door they’d just walked through as their pace slowed down.

Harry glanced at her quizzically. “Did you expect more?”

“Well, you always describe it all huge and dramatic, flashing lights and a billion cameras and a huge crowd of screaming lunatics-“

“Football matches are different,” Harry said, chuckling as he interrupted her rant.

“I got worried over that?” Y/N signaled over her shoulder, her jaw dropping. “Seriously?!”

Harry laughed. “What do you expect me to say? You’re an overthinking maniac?”

She huffed, “This is your fault.”

Harry kissed her when her lips pouted. “Love you, darling.”

“Love you too,” She grumbled as they made their way to the VIP suite.

And that’s the full story of how they’d ended up at the Man U match- which they won, thank god, because Harry would’ve teased her relentlessly for being bad luck- and with a fan asking for a photo and asking who Y/N was.

“Um, well- she- we met- me and her-“ Harry couldn’t seem to form a train of thought, so she rolled her eyes and took control of the situation.

Holding out a hand for the fan to shake, Y/N said her name and said, “I’m Harry’s girlfriend. Nice to meet you, babe.”

The fan’s jaw dropped. It was a bit hilarious, but out of sheer politeness, Y/N held back her laughter. “You are definitely hot enough. Cool. Bye.” Turning on her heel, the fan walked away.

Harry seemed in shock as Y/N laughed, turning to him, completely bewildered. “You hear that? I’m ‘hot enough’!”

Without a care in the world of the dozen of cameras probably pointed at them, Harry grasped her face in his hands and gave her a deep, loving kiss.

Y/N scanned his face, a giddy smile on her own, “What was that for?”

“For being my girlfriend,” Harry replied before pulling her back in for another kiss. So maybe she’d allow her boyfriend a celebratory kiss or two or maybe five before they had the decency to move out of sight of the cameras. And just maybe, it wasn’t their last football match together.

Two years later, Y/N and Harry would return to the very same stadium for yet another Man U match, a bit older, a lot more mature and their love stronger after growing roots for so long. The tree flourishing with branches extending to the deeper reaches of her heart, she had never felt so fulfilled. Like the world was so much lighter and easier to endure even with the extra weight of a diamond ring on her finger, and a white gold band identical to the one on Harry’s hand.

“Who’s the girl you’re with?” The fan asked, a 15-year-old girl with her hair dyed blue and a Love On Tour shirt on, her curious eyes scanning Y/N, a flicker of familiarity in them.

Harry smiled, looking his wife up and down, admiring the outfit he’d carefully chosen for her earlier that day. He inhaled deeply, and for once, he didn’t trip over his words as he replied firmly, “This is Y/N. I’m her husband.”

[isaidlandowecanbeworldchampion]

I’m sorry, I love you - Lost the Breakup Part 2

OP81 x reader, ex!LN4 x reader

Warnings: swearing, slut shaming, poorly written angst

A/n: hi, I'm sorry it took so long for a part two, I wasn't expecting part one to do so well and I hadn't decided where I wanted to take it .

Previous part // Next part

You shuffle into the kitchen around 7am. Oscar is sitting at the breakfast bar drinking a protein shake. 

“Morning.” You mumble, still half asleep. 

Oscar chuckles lightly and stands up. He grabs you a mug and pours a coffee for you.

“Milk? Sugar?” He asks gently. You shake your head and pull the mug towards yourself.

Oscar fiddles with the hem of his shirt before sighing. “So uh…” He rubs the back of his neck. “Can we just forget about what I said last night? Not the winning for you part, I, uh, meant that bit, But the other stuff. It was just a lot of adrenaline, you know? And I-” 

“It’s fine, Oscar” You cut him off, “Already forgotten” 

He smiles and nods. “I’m about to go on a run, but if you want to put a list together we can do some groceries later?”

“Can we stop by my old place? I need to grab some stuff.” You ask, sipping the warm coffee. 

“Of course”, Oscar heads for the door, “I’ll see you later.”

–

You slide into the passenger seat of Oscar’s Mclaren Artura, one of the perks of his job. In one hand you hold a list of groceries and the keys to your and Landos flat, in the other is your phone. Oscar seamlessly steers the car onto the road heading towards the closest grocery store. 

You glance down at your phone fiddling around to avoid saying anything to Oscar. Things had been tense since last night, despite Oscar’s apology this morning. 

Oscar glanced towards you. He cleared his throat. 

“So I need to give you a heads up about something, “ He began, focusing on the road. “Someone managed to get some photos of me dropping you off at the airport and the media is making it seem like something it’s not.” 

Your head whipped towards Oscar but he didn’t look back at you. 

“I am so sorry Oscar” You looked towards your hands on your lap, “I never should’ve gotten you involved. I can move out and find a hotel. You don’t need to be dealing with this on top of everything with Mclaren and the championship battle.” You began to pick at your nails absently, pulling up hotels on your phone. 

“Hey, whoa whoa, I never said you had to move out. I just wanted to tell you so that you’re not blindsided.” He reached over and squeezed your knee. “ I don’t care what people think. You’re my friend, I'm not going to leave you homeless.”  

Oscar smoothly pulled up outside your old apartment building. 

“Do you want me to come up?” 

You shook your head and opened the car door, “I’ll be quick” 

– 

The flat was quiet when you opened the door, maybe you got lucky and Lando was out.? You heard footsteps approaching and you knew that you had no such luck.  Lando leant against the doorframe to the living room. 

“Are you done fucking my teammate then?” 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, making your way towards the bedroom. “I’m not going to even answer that question, given how ridiculous that accusation is.”

It was Lando’s turn to scoff, following you towards the bedroom where you had dragged a suitcase out of the closet and were now shoving the contents of your wardrobe into it. 

“I think it’s a perfectly reasonable assumption” He snarled, “There are photos of you basically sucking his face off and you moved in with him before we were even officially done.” 

You stood up straight and stalked towards him, “ Last I checked, I wasn’t the one who called their girlfriend who has only ever tried to support you -” Your hands come up in quotation marks. “- exhausting …on live television nonetheless  You were barely a foot away from him now, your voice seething with rage, “For your information, I have no interest in Oscar that way, but even if I did, It’s not your business anymore because we are done.” 

“Whore” Lando hissed. 

“I’ll ask you once not to speak to her in that way, Norris.” Oscar stood behind Lando, the look on his face showed that he’d heard what you said about him. 

“Or what, Oscar? You’re behind me in the championship,” Lando seethed, “and now you’re fucking my leftovers. Guess you’ll always be in my shadow, huh?”

Oscars fist cracked across the side of Lando’s face and he doubled over in pain, “Fuck!” 

“I asked you once not to speak to her in that way.” Oscar turned to you,  “Are you done? What else do you need?” 

You nodded, “I’m okay, I have everything I need”

Oscar gently took the suitcase and carried it towards the door. You bent down and lightly touched Lando’s cheek. 

“I’m sorry.” He murmured, “I love you.” 

“No,” You reply, gently “You don’t. If you loved me you wouldn’t have said it” 

You stood up and followed Oscar out the door. 

Please send a ask or comment if you want to be added to tag list

Tags:

@amz824 @cmleitora @herexpertcollector

[fxrmuladaydreams]

Here's a Lando nsfw for you

"I'll take care of you, an orgasm for every night we were apart" - when he comes back from the race....or the triple header (imagine)....

send me thoughts/blurb requests (sfw & nsfw) for lando weekend

notes: i genuinely don’t think anyone would survive that many orgasms after a triple header, but i do think that lando would definitely need to you two to fuck like rabbits when he gets home from one

warnings: !!CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI!!, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, slight cum play

His lips traveled along the slightly damp skin of your torso. He was grinning like a mad man at you as he crawled back up your body to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his tongue, understandably so seeing as he had just spent the better part of the last hour with his head between your thighs.

You were both disappointed when you told him you wouldn’t be able to join him for the race this last week. Lando looked forward to seeing you in his garage during the race week, cheering him on. But your job needed you to stay for the weekend, so you sent your pouty boyfriend away without you.

You still managed to watch his practices, his qualifying, and the race at work. You kept your phone tucked next to your computer playing the race while you worked. You longed to be with him when he crossed the line, scoring yet another podium finish.

When he came home he was all smiles and soft touches, keeping you locked to him in a hug, refusing to let you go anytime soon. You managed to slip away from him long enough to cook some dinner. The two of you ate while he told you about his weekend, about the media stuff he filmed, about getting to be on the podium again, and once again winning driver of the day.

“Well it’s not surprising. You’re my favorite driver.” You tell him as a soft blush covers his cheeks.

He softly pulls you towards the bedroom once you’ve finished your meals, telling you that he missed you, that he needed you.

You end up laying on the bed, with him on top of you, your lips locked in a passionate kiss. He rolls his hips against yours and smirks when he feels you tug on his hair.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you. How about an orgasm for every night we were apart?”

You nod your head, and moan when he pushes his hips against yours again.

“Four then. My favorite number.”

And he had kept his word.

He gave you two with just his tongue, his arms holding your legs apart as he devoured you like you were his last meal. He moaned into your folds as you gave him your first release, the feeling sparking another to follow not far behind.

Then he gave you one with his fingers. He knew how much you loved his hands, they were strong, the veins occasionally more visible than usual. His fingers were thicker than yours, so when he pushed three into you, it was no surprise that you were thrashing on the bed, practically begging him to make you cum.

He licked his fingers clean after the third time, which led to now. He pulls his shirt over his head, then his pants and boxers down. He’s got a decent girth to him, even his three fingers might not have been enough to prepare you to take him.

He strokes himself a few times before leaning down to kiss you again.

“You think you’re ready?” He asks, even three orgasms in he wants to make sure you’re comfortable.

“I am.” You tell him.

He notches the head of his cock at your entrance, just barely brushing against your clit. He pushes himself into you slowly, allowing you time to adjust to his size and him to how much you’re clamping down around him.

He stills when he bottoms out, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. The feeling of your bare walls around him, all soft and warm and wet, could very easily throw him over the edge before he really even got to fucking you.

“Move Lando.” You you whine, shifting your hips to get some movement.

He pulls himself back and forth, pushing himself deeper into you with every thrust. You wrap your legs around his waist pulling him closer. Your nails dig into the skin on his back, leaving long red trails where they’ve been.

It doesn’t take long for either of you to feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Lando uses one of his hand to play with your clit while he fucks himself into you, determined to make you cum before he does.

He succeeds, but is quick to cum when you clamp down around him tightly, practically milking his release from him.

He pulls out of you with a groan, and watches as his cum starts dripping out of you. He swirls it around on his finger, then pushes it back inside you. You yelp, closing your legs.

“Don’t want to waste any of that.” He says.

He refuses to move for the rest of the night, not letting you get up either. He’s spent the whole weekend away from you, now he’s going to keep you in his arms for as long as he wants.

[fuck-hamas-go-israel]

No matter what, don’t lose your humanity.

I see this rhetoric very often, that if you call for the release of the hostages and condemn Hamas terrorism and the atrocities they’ve committed, then you automatically “must support the death of Palestinian civilians”.

Conversely, those who claim to care about the Palestinian civilians don’t seem to call for the release of hostages, never acknowledge the rape, torture, and murder of civilians on Oct 7. In fact, they seem to celebrate death of who they perceive as “Zionist”.

I saw this play out before my eyes on TikTok. A singer named Cat Janice was dying from cancer, and she asked her audience to use her song in their videos as she had willed the proceeds to her young son who is not more than 7 or 8 years old. People labelled her a Zionist because she apparently was following an Israeli account on Instagram.

It was a very tragic story and her family was going through a hard time dealing with the aggressive cancer that was slowly weakening her body.

But as we’ve seen:

They don’t care about people who are suffering from terminal illnesses and will harass them anyway.

In her videos of her giving updates on her situation and pleading with people for empathy for her young son, they flooded her comment section with spam:

Unfortunately, Cat Janice passed away, BDE. But that didn’t stop the harassment. In fact, some celebrated her death and even lauded it as a good thing as there is “one less Zionist” now.

Yes, there are people like this out there. This shouldn’t come as a surprise as they’ve been violent, they’ve been sending death threats, they’ve been chanting for violent “resistance” and “intifada” and the death of Jews and Israelis, as well as their allies. They celebrate violence in the most disgusting and dehumanising way possible.

Just look at the comments in this video of a Jewish creator saying that in Berlin, a Jewish student was attacked:

Meanwhile, we chant “Am Yisrael Chai”. We call for life, we focus on saving all lives, no matter who.

As the leaders of Hamas said in an interview, “The Israelis are known to love life. We, on the other hand, sacrifice ourselves. We consider our dead to be martyrs.”

Every innocent death is a tragedy, Israeli and Palestinian. Death IS a tragedy. The killing of Hamas terrorists, albeit deserved, is a tragedy because of the terroristic path they chose in life and what horrific crimes they had committed in order to warrant death as a means of justice.

As much as I wish that one day, those people who have spewed those vile, antisemitic, inhuman things will feel guilty for what they have said, I doubt they will. The perceived safety and anonymity of social media coupled with their complete absence of humanity, compassion, and empathy evaporates any drop of guilty conscience they may have. All we can wish is that fair and just consequences for their actions will be meted out to them one day.

But my fellow Jews, my fellow zionists, my fellow allies, please never, NEVER stoop to that level. It goes against everything we are about.

Once we lose our humanity, we’ll become dulled to the suffering of others. That’s not what we want, and it directly goes against the spirit of Judaism and Israel.

Continue to mourn the death of innocents, continue to get angry and weep for tragedy and injustice, continue to celebrate new life and lives saved. Continue to feel like a human being. Don’t be like them.

Don’t. Lose. Your. Humanity.

[cressidagrey]

You are the best thing that's ever been mine - Part 4

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)

Summary: Sao Paulo 2024. The Dutchman delivered a defining drive…but maybe there is a relationship that could also use some defining. 

Warnings: Jos Verstappen, angst, crying, mention of pregnancy, mention of sex and sexual acts, physical confrontation

Author Notes: Hi, hey, hello! Apparently I write F1 Fanfiction now?! Also this is the first time I am trying a social media au so my Canva Skills were put to the test. (Disclaimer: I kinda put legibility over authencity, so twitter doesn't look like twitter and messages looks like...something) Also huge thanks to @onebigfangirlworld and @leodette for holding my hand with this 😘)

Max let out a small sigh, his hands falling from her side. He got up from the couch, pausing for a moment to look at her.

Ariel’s face was still a little pale, her eyes tired, but her smile was bright, and he felt a pang in his chest at that. He hated to leave her, while she was unwell and miserable, but she was right. He had just won a Grand Prix. 

He should get his goddamn trophy.

Max leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. Then he turned around and headed for the door, his footsteps measured and steady. He looked back one more time, his gaze lingering on her figure.

Then he went through the door, closing it softly behind him.

Max did get his goddamn trophy.

He accepted congratulations and claps on his back from various people, but his mind was wholly on Ariel.

But the smile on his face was real for once, even when as soon as all the handshakes had been done and he had managed to hand that trophy off to Christian...he was back to the driver's room, where Ariel had bundled up in one of his hoodies.

He knew it was his, because it swamped her.

There was no denying the warm feeling of belonging that came over him, at the sight. 

"Let's get out of here," she told him with a warm smile, having already packed up all the things. He took her bag from her, pulling the hoodie’s hood over her bright red hair and then tugged her against her side, one arm around her shoulders, as they made their way to the car. 

Of course there was press there, waiting. He had expected that, but it still pissed him off. 

Max ignored their shouted questions, the click, click, click of the cameras, only caring that Ariel would get into that car as quickly as she could, as she used the hood of the jacke to shield herself from the media glare. She climbed in first, scooting through and he followed, pulling the poor door closed with far more force than strictly necessary.

As soon as the door was slammed shut and they were safely out of sight from the media, Ariel let out a sigh of relief, relaxing into the seat.

She looked tired and pale, her eyes half closed. The drive back to the hotel would probably lull her to sleep.

Max reached over and took her hand in his, his fingers stroking gently over her knuckles, as the car started moving.

He pulled her against his side, putting his arm around her, pressing a kiss against her hair. He could do that now.

He could do that now.

He couldn’t believe that. 

She smelled like strawberries, he realised weakly.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her softly.

She leaned into his side, snuggling into the crook of his arm, letting out a weak huff.

"I'm tired," she mumbled, nuzzling her face into his shoulder. "And I still feel nauseous but it's better."He tightened his arm around her, rubbing his hand over her arm.

"Just try to sleep, Schatje," he said quietly, his voice low and gentle. The term of endearment slipping from his tongue as easily as breathing. "I'll wake you up when we get to the hotel."

It would only be an half-hour drive, but if she could get at least some rest it would probably do her some good.

The steady rumble of the car and the warmth of his embrace combined lulled her to sleep quickly, her breathing growing steady and deep.

Max knew he should be feeling exhausted from the race and all the interviews afterwards, but all he could feel was absolute contentment.

He could hold her, touch her, love her.

His grip tightened around her a little more, pulling her even closer, his thumb caressing her arm gently.

She mumbled something unintelligible, subconsciously nuzzling against him, pressing her face into his shoulder. He looked down at her. Ariel looked so peaceful like that, so calm and serene.

He continued running his thumb over her skin, a silent, soothing motion.

Max had never allowed himself to imagine this, holding her after winning a race, feeling her body against his in a way he had been dreaming about for so damn long.

The feeling of euphoria, of satisfaction and pure happiness was still buzzing all over him. He had just won a damn race, and the girl he was in love with was currently sleeping soundly against his side. 

It almost made him giddy, a smile tugging at his lips.

God, was this what happiness felt like?

The rest of the car ride passed in silence, Ariel still asleep, her head resting against his shoulder. He just sat like that, holding her against him, watching the landscape outside the window. He was tempted to run his hand over her hair, through the the long messy curls that had escaped her usual braid. 

But he didn't want to risk waking her. She needed the rest more than she needed him playing with her hair, as much as he longed to do it.

He woke her up as they arrived at the hotel, to the two interconnected suites they had taken that time. 

A shower later, he found himself reclining back onto a stupidly comfortable couch in his room with Ariel pressed against his side, resting against him, a blanket wrapped around her. 

It was better than any kind of celebration. Better than anything he ever had had before. 

Including the fact that Ariel wore pyjamas that literally featured Jimmy and Sassy all over them.

He raised an eyebrow at the sight of her in those pyjamas, a little amused. Of course she would buy pyjamas with the goddamn cats on them. He couldn't help the little laugh that escaped him.

"Jimmy and Sassy pyjamas?" he said, a teasing grin on his face. "You are such a cat lady, Schatje."

She shrugged, snuggling up to him on the couch and burying her face in his shoulder. "Hey, they are cute," she defended herself half-heartedly.

He couldn't deny that, especially paired with the way her hair was half-tied up in a messy bun, strands falling around her face. The pyjamas were cute on her, but then she could wear anything and he would think that.

"Feeling better?" he asked her as she tucked herself against his side, reaching out for his hand.

"Much," she said with a happy sigh.

He smiled, lifting their joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.

"Good," he hummed, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles gently.

She felt better, looked better, and all he wanted to do was pull her into his lap and kiss her silly. 

But not yet. She was still unwell and weak. No matter how much he wanted to hold her close against his chest, he knew that his desire didn't matter in this case.

What she needed right now was to rest, not get smothered by an overly eager racecar driver.

"You should probably go to bed," he said quietly, although it took a herculean effort to get those words out.

What he wanted to say was 'stay up with me, curl up in my lap, let me hold you', but he knew she needed to sleep, more than she needed his cuddles.

"No," Ariel said, her voice soft. "I'll stay right here."

Max was selfish enough to simply hum his agreement. "Here, at least have some water," he said softly, reaching for the bottle on the coffee table. "You need to hydrate."

"I'm fine," she protested stubbornly, and he had to hold back a soft snort.

She was so damn stubborn, she always had been. Especially when it came to refusing help, or not admitting when she really wasn't okay.

He lifted his eyebrow. "Schatje," he said, his tone firm, "It wasn't a suggestion, take a damn sip."

To be honest, he was the same way. Stubborn to a fault, and even the worst illness or injury couldn't make him admit when he wasn't okay.

But damn it, she was his to look after and take care of.

Ariel wouldn't take care of herself, so he would just have to take the reins and do it for her.

"I like it," she told him suddenly. Max tilted his head in confusion, his expression curious.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his hand still holding hers, his thumb caressing the back of her hand.

Ariel was being oddly vague, he was half expecting her to say something along the lines of 'liking him taking care of her'. 

"When you call me that," Ariel admitted, a blush high on her cheeks as she did take a drink from that bottle.

His eyebrows rose in surprise, a small wave of heat spreading through his chest.

She liked him calling her Schatje??

"You do, huh?" he asked, a smirk spreading on his face.

He was never going to get sick of calling her that now.

God, she was blushing.

He could swear his heart skipped a beat every time her cheeks reddened like that.

It was an adorable sight, her face flushed with a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment, and a rush of possessive heat went through him.

She was so damn adorable, and she was his.

He chuckled softly, his arm tightening around her waist, pulling her closer.

"Noted, Schatje," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave lower.

The term of endearment rolled of his tongue as easily as his own name.

He shifted a little, getting more comfortable and pulling her more snug against his side. He was enjoying the feeling of having her so close to him. She fit in his arms like she belonged there.

Until there was a knock at the door.

Max sighed.

"Who are you betting on?" he asked her drily.

"Probably Gemma," Ariel said with a sigh. "This is a PR nightmare."

Ariel was right. As usual. 

As Max moved to open the door, Gemma Roberts, Red Bull’s long-suffering PR manager was waiting for him.

"How's Ariel doing?" she greeted him, holding out a plastic bag for him. "Saltines, Bananas, Ginger Ale...pretty much everything we could think off."

He took the bag from Gemma, nodding his thanks.

"She's doing a little better, still unwell though," he said, gesturing for Gemma to come in with a tilt of his head.

"I can't believe it hit her this hard," Gemma said as she entered behind him.

She was an incredibly efficient woman in her mid-thirties, and an absolute professional, but even now Max could see the hint of worry on her face.

"It's the perfect storm," he said grimly.

His father wasn't enough. Oh no. Food Poisoning at the same time too.

Max ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "She's barely slept or eaten anything since breakfast," he told her. "I'm getting her as rehydrated as possible, but she is still unwell and exhausted."

“I do need to talk to you both,” Gemma said with a grimace. “I would wait till tomorrow but…”

Max's eyebrow raised, and he nodded. "Sounds ominous," he grumbled, already regretting whatever the hell she was about to tell him.

He led the way back into the living room, where Ariel was still sitting on the couch, sipping her water.

"Ariel," Gemma said in greeting, and Ariel looked up at her with tired eyes.

"Hey," Max's girlfriend said, giving the PR woman a tired smile.

"Gemma brought you a few things that might help," Max explained and held out the bag of food and drinks. The ginger ale would hopefully be something to settle her stomach. He opened one of the cans and handed it to Ariel, exchanging a look with Gemma behind her.

"Thanks," Ariel mumbled. Max could hear the exhaustion in her voice, see it in the way she couldn't help but lean up against his side, his arm still around her shoulders.

He kept his arm on her, a silent comfort and support as he listened to whatever his PR manager had to say.

“I talked with legal about the…incident in the garage today. If you want to sue, it would be a cut and dry assault case,” Gemma said carefully. “We literally have the whole thing on three different cameras and have around 4 dozen witnesses.”

Max's jaw clenched in anger at the reminder of what had happened.

He was tempted, so damn tempted to press charges. 

He felt Ariel lean into his hand and he found himself exhaling.

"What do you suggest?" he asked Gemma, his voice steady but strained.

"I know you want to," Gemma said bluntly, reading his mind almost like a pro.

He couldn't deny it, he wanted to press charges, he wanted to do anything possible to keep that bastard away from Ariel.

But she was right. The press would be all over it, turning it into a goddamn circus.

“No,” Ariel said flatly.

His gaze flicked to her, he could sense the firmness in her voice, the determination.

He knew she didn't want him to press charges, he could tell from how she was keeping herself firmly against his side, her hand tightening its grip on his.

He let out a slow breath, resisting the urge to just wrap her in his arms and keep her close to his chest, away from the press, away from his dad, away from everything.

“I was the one he hit. It’s my choice. And I am not going to press charges,” Ariel said calmly.

“Schatje,” he choked out.

His heart was thumping frantically in his chest.

He couldn't deny her, he couldn't make her change her mind when she was being stubborn like this.

But the thought of doing nothing about his bastard of a father, the thought of letting the whole incident go, of letting that bastard think he could get away with hurting Ariel. The thought of his father possibly coming near her again…

"Why on earth not?" he asked, his voice strained.

Her hand came up to cup the side of his face, her touch immediately calming him.

"It's not worth it, Max," she told him quietly, her eyes on his, and he felt himself deflate a little. "It's not worth the headache and the fallout."

He wanted to argue, he wanted to fight her on this, but damn it, she was right. It would be nothing but a massive clusterfuck, and she didn't deserve to be put through that, especially not after today.

“Regardless of what happened today, regardless of what I feel towards him, he’s your father,” Ariel said softly.

He hated how she was being so understanding, so calm and reasonable when all he felt was anger and frustration.

He let out a bitter sigh, his arms tightening around her.

"He hurt you today," he gritted out. "He hurt the woman I love. And you want me to what, forgive and forget?"

"No, not forgive and forget," she clarified, her words still firm but somehow gentle at the same time.

A part of him knew, logically, that she was right, but the other part, his stubborn, possessive, protective part was itching to do something, anything to make his bastard father pay for hurting her today.

“I am saying that… you can use today to get him to do what you want,” Ariel clarified.

Max raised an eyebrow again, his mind racing as he thought about what she was suggesting.

He could see where she was going with this, and damn it, she had a point.

He might not be able to press charges, but he could use this to his advantage, to pressure his father into backing down, to stay the hell away from him and Ariel.

He could force his father to do what he wanted, and to leave Ariel alone.

“Besides, I doubt think Christmas dinner will be a nice occasion with the in-laws otherwise,” she quipped. He could just stare at her.

In-laws.

Her words hit him like a freight train, and he found himself staring at her in disbelief for a moment. 

She had referred to his family as her in-laws.

She said it as a joke, so easily and casually, yet...

It made something warm go through his chest.

“So if I never wanted to see him again…” Max trailed off, turning to Gemma.

Gemma understood what he was getting at, and she let out a low, impressed whistle.

She had seen what happened, had seen the incident first hand, and she knew damn well that it would be better for everyone if his father just stayed away.

She nodded slowly. "Blackmailing then," she said. "Leverage he can't just sweep under the rug. I like it."

“Max,” Ariel said quietly. “Are you sure?”

His gaze flicked to her for a moment, before he let out a grim chuckle.

He was damn sure. He was absolutely, totally, one hundred percent sure.

If this was the only way to protect her, to make sure that bastard would never touch her or hurt her again, he would do it, no questions asked.

"Yes. I'm sure," he said firmly, his arms pulling her closer against him, protective and possessive.“It was your suggestions,” he said drily.

“My suggestion wasn’t to cut off all contact with your dad, Max,” Ariel said carefully.

He let out a tired sigh, letting his arms tighten around her a little.

He hated how exhausted she looked, how she should have been in bed, getting rest, and how she was instead here, trying to defend his damn father of all people.

"So what?" he said, his irritation still clear in his voice. "I'm supposed to maintain a relationship with a man who assaulted you? I am supposed to let him near our children?!” He gritted his teeth, his jaw clenching tightly.

The thought of his father getting anywhere near their future children…

His father had gotten to shape him into the perfect river. He was not getting a chance to do that to Max’s children. 

It made his blood boil.

It was a miracle he didn't just let out a loud, irritated growl.

"No," he said firmly. "God no. I'd rather break my own legs than allow him near our children."

He felt Ariel lean into his side, and he let out a slow breath to try and calm himself.

There was a complex mess of emotions there, a tangle of anger, disappointment, resentment, and even love.

He had been…a difficult father, but he had still been Max’s father. Had still been his father.

He knew she was right, it was a complicated mess of emotions swirling inside him.

His father might have been a shitty, cold bastard who had never cared a damn about him, who had put pressure on him from a young age and had forced him to be the ideal heir to his empire...

But still, he was his father.

He had to make a decision.

He didn't want to choose between his father and Ariel.

But when it came down to it…there was no real competition.

His relationship with his father had been strained, cold and distant from the very beginning.

He had always been nothing but a tool to the man, a tool to be used to further his goals.

But Ariel...

Ariel had been the one to thaw the ice around his heart, to make him actually feel things again. To make him feel alive.

He loved her more than he had ever loved anything, she meant everything to him.

Compared to that...his father was nothing.

It was simple. His choice was simple.

He could choose his father, choose to forgive him and try and maintain a relationship with that cold bastard who had never actually cared for him...

Or he could choose her, choose the woman who had become the most important person in his life, the woman he wanted to build a future with, the woman he loved more than anything in the world.

The choice was a no-brainer.

And so he chose her.

He would choose her, over and over and over again.

He would choose her, because that was all he wanted.

His future, his happiness, lay with her, with the beautiful woman sitting next to him on that couch. And who, even now, was trying to find a way to make it easy for him. 

Make it easy for Max. 

Ariel was willing to put her own feeling on hold so that he could get what he needed. 

But the thing was…he didn’t need his father. 

He needed her. 

His heart belonged to her. He belonged with her.

He would do anything for her, and his father be damned.

She meant more to him than anything. More than his racing, more than 3 world champion titles. 

He had spent so long focusing on his racing, focusing on beating his rivals and on winning races. 

He had focused on the things that didn't matter, on all the meaningless, frivolous bullshit that surrounded him like a noose, all in the name of being the best driver on the grid.

But it was her who mattered. She was the one that gave his life meaning.

She was the woman he loved, the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

He would protect her, cherish her, give her everything he could.

She was the woman he would marry, the woman who would bear his children.

He would fight a thousand battles for her and for their family.

And God help anyone who would try and come between them.

"That settles it then," he said in a firm, resolute voice. "No contact with my father."

It would be difficult, to cut off what little remaining connections he still had with the man.

But he would do it.

For her.

For their future together.

The moment the words left his mouth, he felt the tension in his chest release, and his body relaxed slightly.

It was the right decision, the only decision he could have made.

His arm tightened a little more around Ariel's side, pulling her gently closer against his side.

He could feel the weight of his decision settle into him, the knowledge that he had just chosen her over his own father. And the thought that he didn't regret it one bit, that he didn't have a single shred of doubt in his mind...it was like a massive weight off his shoulders.

He pressed a small, gentle kiss to the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her hair, relishing in the feel of her snuggled up at his side.

In that moment, with her so close to him, her warmth and comfort surrounding him, he was reminded once again how much she meant to him.

How much he treasured her.

How she was his whole damn world.

Next Part

[wingzie]

Speaking to the media as a UK Army

Earlier in the week I mentioned in a local group chat that the UK’s attitude towards BTS and KPOP overall had changed. It felt like everyone was excited during Dynamite and then interest was quickly lost. Things got worse after the Festa Dinner. Because of previous experiences with a certain boy group, it was reported that the members would never return. These stories were soon edited, but it was obvious that there was a certain bias against the members now. The previous hype posts for them and their new releases were less present. Instead, we have gone back to having to do everything ourselves during chapter 2. 

As I am sure many of you are aware, it has already been a tough week for UK Army. We found out that MUSE had inclusions, making it harder to chart. We got backlash from solos for something that wasn’t our fault and the emails we sent were ignored or received weird responses. We are a resilient bunch though and we continued to promote and gain more funds. I figured that things for us couldn’t get any worse. I was wrong. On Sunday I was sent an article from the BBC by a friend. They asked my thoughts on it and I quickly understood why. Something else worried me though. I recognized the journalist. He is someone that we have history with. He kindly wrote about Persona and Wembley in 2019, but he also sneaked in a line that he thought that the members were miming through the concert. At the time, a few Army tried talking to him about it on Twitter and he was receptive to the feedback. I decided to try and do the same and to do it privately in the DM’s. Something which he told me himself that he appreciated. I spent a good amount of time drafting my message. I made sure that it was polite, but also included the reasons why a certain part of the article was troublesome. During this, a friend of mine also made a detailed thread correcting the misinformation. Once the message was sent, I went on with my day and waited to see if I would get a reply. Much to my surprise, I did indeed get a reply. I don’t have consent to share our messages, but we replied back and forth a few times and he said that he would look into changing the wording. I quoted my friend's thread, explaining that I messaged him privately and that he was working on it. As someone who posts about Jikook on a regular basis, you could say that I am used to getting unnecessary abuse. However, I was not fully prepared for the response to this. As more hours passed and there weren't any changes made, the more anger and hate I received. This greatly confused me, as I wasn’t the one who wrote the article itself. I just wanted to try and help and we had to be patient. 

A day later the edit was made. I messaged the journalist again to thank him and he responded back, explaining that the reason it took so long was because there was a debate internally about the best way to respond. I then shared on TL about the edit being made. It wasn’t the best edit, but that’s all we got. Unfortunately, the hate towards myself increased even more. Some said that the article was my fault, that I failed BTS or that I was an anti. Plus a few words that I daren’t repeat here. Some saw what was happening to me and sent kind support. These included people who I have never interacted with before and I will be forever thankful for that. I also spoke with some about the response of the general public towards the article. The article was heavily advertised so there were discussions in relation to Seventeen going to Glastonbury. This hasn’t been done before so some were curious and some were confused. It was interesting to see the reaction to it, even if it was poorly written. I was personally exhausted though.

This whole ordeal started on Sunday and I woke up on Tuesday still feeling a bit wary of receiving more hate. On top of this, I had gained around 300 more followers from all of this and didn’t know how they would react once I started posting Jikook. If I’m honest, I felt a bit uncomfortable with everything going on. What did shock me though, is that some of these new followers were going through my “pinned” post and liking the threads on Jikook. It made me a bit self-conscious, but I didn’t want it to overcome me and Jimin’s promotions though, so I came up with an idea. 

July is my Birthday month and to celebrate I am doing a giveaway for other UK Army. This gives them a chance to get any albums they currently do not own and to try and boost sales for Jimin at the same time. The UK fanbase don’t really want to be associated with me because of my account, so I decided to do everything myself. To help boost morale, positivity and the community spirit that Army has. Overall, I do not regret reaching out to the journalist. He was rather difficult to speak to, but an edit deserved to be made for the way in which it was written. I appreciate the discussion we had and those that supported me. My focus will continue to be on Chapter 2. Look after yourselves and each other. 

[nakylvr]

hii can i request the fluff prompt “is that my shirt?” and one bed trope with manon saying it?? (fem reader) thank youuu

i love the one bed trope so bad thank you so much for requesting this 🫶

— STUCK ON YOU

manon bannerman (katseye) x fem!reader

summary: fluff prompt ("is that my shirt?") + fluff scenario (one bed trope) from my 100 follower event OR during your first asia tour, you and manon are roommates in the hotel, only to discover that there's one bed

warnings/tags: one bed trope, confessions, fluff

main masterlist | katseye masterlist

"oh my god i am so tired!" you groan, walking with manon to the hotel room.

"oh come on, we're right here," manon says, stopping in front of the door and unlocking it with the key.

the two of you drag your bags inside the room and onto the small couch, and you turn on the light. the second your eyes adjust to the light, your met with the sight of the nice room, and the bed. one bed.

you feel a wave of anxiety rush over your body at the sight, and when you glance over at manon, you just barely miss her breath hitching and the gulp she takes before clasping her hands together.

"this is...this is fine," manon says, looking around the room. "right?" she looks over at you.

"yeah, yeah," you answer, clearing your throat and nodding. "i mean, we shouldn't complain, right?"

"right," manon nods. there's an awkward moment of silence that fills the room before she speaks again. "well, then i'm going to take a shower real quick. you can take one after me, 'kay?"

"okay," you give a thumbs up. you stand awkwardly as manon grabs things from her bag before going into the bathroom, and when the door closes you drag your hands down your face and let out a quiet groan. "oh my god why did this have to happen?" you mumble to yourself.

you open your own suitcase and pull out your nighttime clothes, deciding to just change quickly before sitting on the edge of the bed while on your phone scrolling through social media. you hear the bathroom door open, but you don't look up from your phone until you hear manon speak.

"is that my shirt?"

your heart drops to your stomach at the sudden question, and when you look away from your phone and down at yourself, your face heats up as you realize it is one of her shirts. you packed your things before being told who was rooming with who, and you didn't think to put it back once told you would be rooming with manon in the hotel. you look up to see manon walking towards you, and you put your phone down next to you.

"uh i erm i-i mean uh yeah," you stumble out words, staring up at manon who's standing in front of you.

"mm," manon hums, nodding her head. "it looks good on you." she adds, "you should keep it."

"what?" you let out without thinking. "i-i didn't realize it was yours i mean i-i have a shirt just like this so i c-can give it back to you and-"

"hey, it's fine," manon's hands land on your shoulders. "seriously, you look super cute in it." she smiles at you, pushing some of your hair out of your face.

"you think i'm cute?" you ask, not realizing the way she's getting closer and closer to you until her face is inches away from yours.

"the cutest ever," manon answers, her eyes glancing down at your lips before back to your eyes. she can see you do the same thing, and her smile grows slightly as she moves her hands from your shoulders to cup your face. "would you be mad if i kissed you right now?" she asks quietly.

you quickly shake your head at her question. "not one bit," you answer in the same voice.

the second you respond manon is pressing her lips against yours, smiling into the kiss when you reciprocate. your hands grab her waist and gently pull her closer to you, trying to fight back the smile growing on your face. when you two part from the kiss, both of you are smiling brightly at each other.

"i really like you, manon," you say in a whisper, as if you were afraid to say it.

"i really like you too," manon replies. "i have since i first met you."

you let out a giggle. "wow, that was cheesy," you say jokingly. "but i'm glad to know i have such a good impression."

"hey! i only say cheesy stuff when i care!" manon retorts, laughing lightly.

"yeah, yeah," you say, smiling widely as you lay down on the bed and drag her down with you.

manon lets out a short yelp in surprise as you pull her down onto the bed, but is smiling brightly at you as she lays beside you. "so...do you think we should like, try this out?" she says.

you smile back at her as you lay next to her on the bed, and her question has you pondering it. "well, i mean, we could try, i think. if you want to, that is," you respond after a few moments.

"i want to," manon replies instantly while nodding. "do you?"

"i want to try," you nod.

manon grins at your response. "let's do it then."

"okay."