#hi hello thank u for pain

[zrllosyn-art]

Arao's fic has done me some damage

[thegreenhordes]

N: What.... the FUCK. Are YOU?

N--- is Aware. N--- is Suspicious. N--- is Afraid.

[pomegranatesarchive]

Hi can u do a smau with max where reader is a doc for f1 and when max unfortunately has an accident she is one of the first responders(dont know what they are called!!!) And he just stares at her and its like love at first sight for him(he fell first and HARDER!!!!!) and everyone online could see it as well

Some teasing from other drivers as well

And proceed how u deem fit

Loved the sister in law one!!!!!!!

doctor lady | max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x doctor!reader

summary: max never thought he would be happy getting a injury that puts him out of racing for three months, but when he has a doctor like you? he can’t help but be a little happy.

liked by landonorris, yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 816,074 others!

maxverstappen1: we are allllm good guys!!!!!!!!!!!!! we are aliveee wnd well babybyvy 🤘AND me and lanHOE (becuare he id a BOE) got a pretty doctory lady 🥰🥰🥰 she’s sooooooooioiiooooo nice and prety AND she made us NOT feel pain so we love her 😍😍😍😍😍

view comments below!

user1: they got him on those GOOD painkillers

user2: we’ve seen drunk max, but drugged max? a whole new level

landonorris: guy our lady doctor is soilioooooooooo prety 😍

maxverstappen1: HEY NO 😡😡 i alreadys called dibs!!!!!! she’s MY prety doctor lady. she game ME her instagran and i’m takin HER on a date!

yourusername: if my supervisor is reading this, i gave him my instagram and agreed going on a date with him because he was being difficult, started crying, and wouldn’t take his medication until i did.

maxverstappen1: HELLO MY BEAUTIFUL LOVE

user2: started crying??? max verstappen started crying???

user3: pain meds do that to you 🤕

user4: i need a video of that right now

user5: he is out of IT. i can’t wait till he wakes up and realizes what he’s done

charles_leclerc: happy you’re okay mate!

maxverstappen1: oh charles i have missed you dearly 🥰🥰 so happy you got 1st!!!!!!!

charles_leclerc: thank you max ❤️

maxverstappen1: i can wait for you to meet my future wife!!!!!!!! you’ll love her! she saved me life ❤️

charles_leclerc: someone please take his phone away

maxverstappen1: NOOOOO I JUST WANT TO TALK ABOUT MY FUTURE WIFR 😡

user6: max, charles is just trying to save you from the embarrassment

user7: when he sobers up, he either won’t give a shit and continue OR he’ll be so embarrassed and he’ll never show his face again

yourusername: everyone, please don’t pay mind to max, he is under very heavy drugs, and is not in a right state of mind. we have tried confiscating his phone, but he starts kicking and becomes difficult.

user8: i know this girl is scared for her job 😭

user9: having max as a drugged out patient seems horrible

user10: literal nightmare material

maxverstappen1: MYYY LOVVER HELLO

user11: good lord #freeyn

danielricciardo: i would say, i hope you recover, but i have a feeling you don’t want to recover?

maxverstappen1: I DONTTTT I NEVER EANT TO RECIVER BECAUSE THAT MEANS NOT SEEING MY BEAUTIFUL LADY DOCTOR SO NO!!! NO RECOVERY FOR ME

danielricciardo: screenshotting all of this for later 🤣

landonorris: i’m hungry, maxie can you tell lady doctor i’m hungry?

yourusername: you can talk to me lando. i’ll go get you something.

landonorris: NOOOO I CABR TALK TO THE LADY DOCTOR MAX SAID I CANT AND HE DAID IF I DID HESS GOING TO KILL ME AND I DONT WANT TO BE KILLED AHHHH

maxverstappen1: YOU FONT GET TO TALK TO MY PRETTY DOCTOR LADY IM GOING TO JILL YLY LANDO

user12: this is genuinely like the funniest shit ever 😭

user13: can’t believe in 10 years from now we’re going to look back at this and laugh

user14: 10 years?? bitch im LAUGHING RIGHT NOW

redbullracing; speedy recovery max! 💓

maxverstappen1: NOOOO NO SPEEDY RECOVERY NO RECOVERY FOR MAX

user15: head injury so bad he lost his love for racing

user16: on a serious note, his injury’s did seem pretty bad, especially his leg…

user17: honestly i’d be surprised if he returned to racing immediately

landonorris: maxie and me got separated :(((( 😞☹️😕😭🥺 lady doctor is is MEAN

yourusername: you two were arguing and disturbing the other patients.

maxverstappen1: DONT CALL MY LADY DOTCIT MEAN!!!!

user18: went from being worried to laughing out loud because wtf is this??

user27; lando and max crashing was NOT on my 2024 bingo card

user28: f1 having a big crash was not on MY 2024 bingo card

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername, landonorris, 619,027 others!

redbullracing: unfortunately, due to last weeks crash regarding lando norris and max verstappen. max has been forced to take a three month leave of absence from racing, as he has severely fractured his lower leg. he has immediately started physical therapy, let’s wish him a speedy recovery ❤️‍🩹

view comments below!

maxverstappen1: what a shame 😕 truly saddened by this outcome 😞

user19: what??

landonorris: take a wild guess as to who’s going to be his doctor for three months?

user20: PRETTY LADY DOCTOR???

maxverstappen1: maybe 🥰

user21: we’ve entered the era where max does not gaf about racing as long as he gets to see yn

user22: does this mean he’s not winning the wdc?

user23: he still can, he just has to win basically every race after the 3 months, which isn’t exactly impossible for him

charles_leclerc; so sad for max!

user24: your ass does not feel sad for max 😭

user25: he has his eyes on the wdc!!!

user26: HE ACTUALLY HAS A CHANCE TO WIN BOW

maxverstappen1: @/yourusername, ready to take care of me for 3 months :D

yourusername: no

maxverstappen1: 😕

user27: HAHAHA

danielricciardo: LOSER

landonorris: HAHAH GET REJECTED

charles_leclerc: EMBARRASSING

oscarpiastri: that hurt to read

maxverstappen1: SHUT UP WHO ASKED YOU

user28: tbh i wouldn’t be excited to have max as a patient for 3 whole months with how he acted that night in the emergency room

user29: that man is secretly crazy and you can’t convince me otherwise

user30: i love how max is clearly like head over heels for yn, but she can’t date him because he’s her patient 😭

user31: she can’t?

user30: NO!!! that’s unethical, she can date him after the 3 months but not during

user32: that not being common knowledge to some people is concerning…

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, yourusername, and 917,027 others!

maxverstappen1: day one of physical therapy a success ✅

view comments below!

landonorris: so, how many times did she reject you today?

maxverstappen1: ZERO.

yourusername: 10**

landonorris: TENN??????

maxverstappen1: i just don’t understand why she won’t say yes 😞

yourusername: because it’s severely unethical and will get me fired

maxverstappen1: so what i’m hearing is that you’ll go out with me when i’m no longer your patient?

user33: let the countdown begin

charles_leclerc: missed you at the race today!

maxverstappen1: no you didn’t

charles_leclerc: no i didn’t! MAX IT FEELS SO GOOD TOO WIN

maxverstappen1: yeah i KNOW.

yourusername: don’t worry charles, he was watching you during his whole therapy session, and cheered so loudly when you won that we got complains from patients on the other side of the building!

charles_leclerc: I KNEW IT!!!

maxverstappen1: you said you wouldn’t tell anyone yn 😕

user34: it’s so…unsettling seeing max be so publicly affectionate

user35: RIGHT?? like why is he so open about this??

user36: he has no shame…

yourusername: i told you to stop taking pictures of me while i’m working

maxverstappen1: but you just look sooooo pretty

danielricciardo: she doesn’t want you bro

maxverstappen1: SHUT UP

user37: she’s stronger then me, because if i had max verstappen down bad like that?

user38: no literally, i would’ve made him mine the same day we met

user39: why is max posting regular pictures?? it’s weird

user40: he’s trying to impress yn

user39: well he’s going about it all wrong. because these photos just don’t match?? cat, hospital, and then a crappy photo of a therapy room?? horrible horrible HORRIBLE

user41: damn…

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 619,017 others!

maxverstappen1: 2 months down…1 more to go!

view comments below!

user42: HE IS COUNTING DOWN

user43: WE KNEW IT!!!

landonorris: i can’t belive you tricked me into going to a photo shoot for you

maxverstappen1: that is not what happened.

landonorris: you told me we were going golfing, next thing i know i’m watching you get your picture taken like 92884 times 😑

maxverstappen1: just say your jealous

landonorris: OF WHAT???

user44: he’s getting better at being aesthetic

user45: he’s learning!!

user46: are we all going to skip past the fact that max, a hater of everything, had a whole as photo shoot for his instagram?????

maxverstappen1: yn told me i should post more photos of myself for the instagram

user47: so you had a whole photo shoot????

maxverstappen1: yes

user48: oh he’s in love

danielricciardo: looking good max 😍

maxverstappen1; thank you for the support daniel!

landonorris: was that a dig to me?

maxverstappen1: yes.

landonorris: I WAS EXPECTING GOLF

yourusername: looking good max

maxverstappen1: really??? you really think so??

yourusername: yes (with the upmost professionalism)

maxverstappen1: 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

user49: why did max just add “yn thinks i look good 🥰” to his bio

user50: LMAOO I THOUGHT YOU WERE JOKING???

user49: no 😭 he very literally put “yn thinks i look good 🥰” in his bio

user51: why does it look like max is in the doctor training room?

maxverstappen1: because i am!!

user51: THEY LET YOU IN THERE????

yourusername: my boss is a huge f1 fan. so he lets max do whatever he wants 🙄

user51: i’m sorry that’s so funny 😭

user52: does max just follow her around all day??

yourusername: pretty much, yeah

user53: you have no idea how much i want to be you

charles_leclerc: wow max looking good

maxverstappen1: thank you charles

charles_leclerc: aren’t you going to put “charles thinks i look good” in your bio?

maxverstappen1: i don’t care about you enough for that

user54: DAMN THATS COLD

user55: those cats are so cute 🥺

. . .

. . .

liked by yourusername, landonorris, and 914,078 others!

maxverstappen1: guys i did!!!! i got a date with the pretty doctor lady 🥰🥰

view comments below!

user56: when he falls first and harder >>

user57; this man is literally obsessed with yn it’s insane

landonorris: beat me too it

landonorris: THIS IS A JOKE PLEASE DONT KILL ME

maxverstappen1: nothing funny. i didn’t laugh. you aren’t funny.

landonorris: 😕

user58: WE CHEERED!!!

user59: i still think it would be funny if she just said no even after the 3 months

yourusername; i thought about it, but he’s rich and pretty so 🤷‍♀️

maxverstappen1: pretty :D

user60: she’s so pretty

maxverstappen1: like i’ve been SAYING.

user61: i’ve never seen a man so down bad before

user62: it’s unnerving

user63: a doctor, pretty, and funny?? max hit the jackpot

user64: they both hit the jackpot 😒 it pisses me off

user65: LMAO WHY??

user64: seeing people live the life i want makes me unexplainably mad

danielricciardo: you’re joking right? she’s not actually dating you?

maxverstappen1: what’s that supposed to mean

danielricciardo: it means she’s too good for you @/yourusername are you being held hostage

yourusername; yes

danielricciardo: OH I KNEW IT. DONT WORRY HELP IS ON THE WAY

maxverstappen1: you guys are mean.

yourusername: this means i can never be your doctor again

maxverstappen1: what if once day, on my way home i crash, and its a big crash with smoke and fire, and i get taken to the hospital but i refuse to let anyone touch me that isn’t you, would you still not help me?

yourusername: there’s just something so undiagnosed about you

user65: HAHAHA

user66: max is just so unexplainable

charles_leclerc: are my eyes deceiving me or did she finally say yes 

maxverstappen1: SHE SAID YES

charles_leclerc: OH YEAH OH YEAH I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT BUDDY

maxverstappen1: OH YEAH OH YEAH

user67: my lestappen heart 💔

. . .

notes: enjoy this while i spend the rest of my night learning how to play the sims

thank you for requesting!!

[a-shade-of-blue]

Whenever Mohammed (@ahmed0khalil) tells me about his situation , it breaks my heart. They are struggling so much financially that they have to borrow money to buy anything! And food in Gaza is so expensive right now. He used to be able to buy a kilo of small sardines for about 50 cents, but now they cost 30 dollars. They can no longer afford food. It's so bad that they are now using spoiled flour full of weevils to make food, because that's all they have!

The situation has become so bad that Mohammed keeps raising the possibility of him being killed lately. "If the Israeli planes kill me...", "if we are not killed by Israeli occupation fire we will be killed by hunger...", "I just hope I can evacuate my family before I get killed"... He is afraid that they will die from bombs, he is afraid that they will die from hunger. Mohammed is only 19 years old, so young, only a teenager! He just wants his family to survive! That shouldn't be too much to ask for!

Mohammed is only 19 years old but now he is responsible of getting enough funds so that his 5 siblings can survive. His brother Fathi is blind, his other brother Abdullah is autistic, and his youngest brother is only 6 years old. They are just children. Please, help them.

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[girlygguk]

DREAM OF YOU | JJK (Prologue)

summary bunnies had always been your favorite; their soft and gentle nature a comfort in a world that could be anything but. this one, however, is not very soft. and he certainly isn’t gentle.

pairing bunny hybrid!jk x human vet!(f)reader

word count 3k

chapter rating sfw

genre hybridverse, s2l, angsty (future fluff & smut)

content jk 24 | yn 25, grumpy bunny hybrid jk, spirited human veterinarian oc, jk doesn't trust humans, his love interest is a human..., brief mentions of fighting, blood & body wounds, cursing, hybrid bangtan, park jimin is an angel cat

updated a/n this was supposed to just be a draft dump, but upon unexpected love for the fic from a few of u absolute sweetheartss, i shall be turning this into a series! haven’t decided onna release date for pt 2 atm, but it’s next on my list for updates!! love you and thank youu x <3

masterlist | join the taglist | banner credit

now playing: camila cabello—dream of you

09 MAY 2022 | 10:31 PM Seo-Dong Animal & Hybrid 24/7 Veterinary Clinic.

You’d gotten used to these quiet hours, where time seemed to stretch and your thoughts kept you company more than the occasional late-night emergency. Stocking supplies and counting inventory had become a routine—one of the many tasks that kept your mind and hands busy in the lull between patients.

That is until the silence was shattered by the sound of the clinic door slamming open, the loud thud of it hitting the wall echoing through the empty space. Startled, you stood up from your crouched position, your eyes immediately darting to the entrance.

The sight that greeted you was a sharp contrast to the quiet evening you’d been having. A blonde boy, his eyes sharp and his features very feline, was half-dragging, half-supporting a taller male into the clinic. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the scene—especially the sight of the second male, whose long, fluffy ears drooped low in a clear sign of distress.

Your hand automatically reached out to close the cabinet you had been rummaging through, and without another thought, you were moving toward the pair, mind racing to assess the situation as you walked. The bunny hybrid—as you determined based on his undeniable features—was clearly in pain. His eyes were shut tight, his jaw clenched, muscles taut with tension. Bunnies had always been your favorite; their soft and gentle nature a comfort in a world that could be anything but. Seeing one in such a state of discomfort made your chest tighten.

“Hi there, I’m Y/N. What’s wrong? How can I help?” you asked, your voice gentle despite the urgency you felt.

The cat hybrid—also self-determined by you—was quick to respond, his voice laced with worry as he glanced at his friend. “Hello, Y/N! I’m Jimin, and this is my friend Jungkook. He’s injured, and if you could please—”

You were already nodding, taking another step closer to Jungkook to try and assess his wound. But before you could get too close, Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, and he took a sharp, defensive step backward, pulling Jimin with him. His dark eyes narrowed as they met yours.

“No,” he grunted, his voice rough with pain and something else—distrust. His nose wrinkled in distaste at the all too familiar scent. Human. You could almost see the thoughts running through his mind. “She’s not a hybrid. Let’s go, Jimin-ah.”

The words hit you slightly harder than you expected, and your extended hand abruptly dropped to your side. It wasn’t the first time you’d faced prejudice in your line of work, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Humans didn’t have the best reputation among hybrids, and for good reason. The history between your species was filled with pain, fear, and oppression. Even now, with the world having come a long way in terms of hybrid rights, there were still deep scars left by past injustices.

You understood his reaction, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t sting. You were just trying to help.

As much as you wanted to let him walk out and take his assumptions with him, you couldn’t ignore the clear signs of pain and discomfort in the way he held himself.

“Okay,” you said, forcing your voice to remain even. “Did you need directions to the nearest open hybrid clinic? It’s about an hour's drive eastbound. Or, my koala hybrid colleague will be starting the overnight shift at 12. You can come back then?”

The words were polite, but there was a frustrated edge to them, one you couldn’t control. You weren’t some inexperienced intern, and you certainly weren’t going to let this bunny hybrid dismiss you so easily.

Jungkook caught the undertone, and his expression darkened further. He gave you a tight nod, clearly not appreciating your condescending offer, and turned to leave, unhooking his arm from Jimin’s supportive grip.

“Jungkookie, please!” Jimin pleaded, his voice rising in desperation. He grabbed the back of Jungkook’s torn t-shirt, pulling him back with more force than you expected from someone with such a lithe frame. Jungkook grunted in pain, the sound low and rough, as the movement aggravated whatever injury he was carrying.

“I’m sorry, Kookie, but you will die if we wait!” Jimin’s words were dramatic, but the concern in his eyes was very real. “Just please, please let her tend to you. I’m sure she’s more than qualified! Why else would she be working here, right?” The cat turned to you, his eyes wide and pleading. “Right?”

You allowed a small, wry smile to tug at the corner of your lips. “Sure,” you said, a teasing lilt in your voice. “Though, I’m not actually a qualified veterinarian - I just sanitize the equipment and clean out the overnight chambers. But our night vet called in sick, so… I guess I could try?”

Jimin’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, his head shaking nervously as he took a step back. “Oh… I-uh, never mind! Uh—I think we’ll actually go to—”

“Aish, Jimin-ah. She’s joking,” Jungkook muttered, his voice laced with irritation at his gullible best friend.

The bunny’s dark eyes flicked to the name badge on your white lab coat that covered your forest green scrubs. Small doodles in thin black marker decorated the corners of the badge—hearts, flowers, and funnily enough, a tiny little bunny rabbit. Below your name, in bold letters, was your title: Senior Animal and Hybrid Veterinary Specialist.

“Oh!” Jimin gasped, relief washing over his features as some of the color drained from his cheeks. “Well, that’s great then! May you please help my friend? He’s a bunny hybrid, 24 years old, and he has a really big bite wound on his lower abdomen! It’s not bleeding badly, but it’s HUGE. It was from this big, ugly Pitbull hybrid! He’s terrifying and from the South side—well, we are too—but he deals drugs and all sorts of illegal things, so who knows what was in his mouth before he bit Jungkook?! But don’t worry, Y/N-ssi, Jungkookie doesn’t back down! You should’ve seen what that no-good mutt came out looking like—”

“Jimin-ah,” Jungkook sighed, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance at his best friend’s tendency to ramble and over share.

“Right, sorry, Jungkookie…” Jimin said quickly, his ears flattening slightly in embarrassment before he turned back to you. “Anyways, it happened about ten minu—”

You nodded along as Jimin continued his detailed description while you walked to the counter with the hybrids following suit, one much more begrudgingly than the other.

Your pen flew over the clipboard as you jotted down everything you needed to know. All the while, you could feel Jungkook’s gaze burning into the side of your face. 

It wasn’t the kind of look you were used to from other hybrids—the possessive, predatory stares that made your skin crawl. This was different. His eyes were sharp, assessing, like he was trying to figure out if he could trust you. 

Two minutes passed as you filled out the necessary sections on the new patient slip, the cat being the one to provide all the details, everything right down to the weight of the bunny. They’re obviously very close, possibly lovers, and you thought it was adorable. A classic grumpy x sunshine trope right in front of your eyes.

You were almost finished when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jungkook’s knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the counter, his balance faltering. His stance had shifted from defensive to exhausted, his body finally starting to give in to the pain and the adrenaline that had been keeping him upright.

“Catch him, Jimin,” you ordered, your voice firm and directed at the cat hybrid, but your eyes were on the bunny.

“Oh, shit!” Jimin cursed, his eyes widening in panic as he darted forward to catch his friend. Jungkook’s knees buckled, his eyes rolling back as his body went limp. He was almost twice the size of Jimin, and the smaller hybrid struggled under the sudden weight.

You were around the counter in seconds, slipping under Jungkook’s other arm to help hold him up. “Help me bring him into the medical suite, please,” you asked, but your tone left little room for argument. Together, you and Jimin managed to half-carry, half-drag the unconscious bunny hybrid into the next room.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

“Y/N-ssi,” Jimin’s voice was curious as he twirled in your spinny chair, watching as you worked on his best friend who lay unconscious on the cushioned med table.

“Hmm?” you responded quietly, focused on pulling another thread through Jungkook’s stitch.

It had been almost forty minutes since you guys had heaved the bunny onto the table, allowing you to finally get a good look at the wound. Jimin had been right — it wasn’t profusely bleeding. However, the edges of the bite were now a dark purplish color, and it took quite a few minutes and resources to rid him of whatever remnants of toxic substance the attacker had laced on his teeth.

The cat hybrid was more than eager to help, and while you insisted it was okay, he all but got on his knees and bowed before you, begging to assist. You ended up giving in, knowing that helping might calm his overwhelming nerves for his companion. You made him glove and gown up before letting him hold the bucket while you flushed out Jungkook’s wound.

It took approximately ten seconds and a bit of discolored pus draining into the container before Jimin dry heaved and looked like he was about to faint. Not wanting to double your current patient count, you bit back a laugh and made the cat put the bucket on the ground and sit down while you finished.

“Are you really a senior veterinarian?”

“I am,” you confirmed, snipping the end of your final stitch with scissors before reaching for the sanitized gauze. “Have I done something to make you question my position?”

“No!” Jimin exclaimed, pulling to an abrupt halt in his spinning on your chair. “You’re fantastic! Really! I don’t exactly know the standards for hybrid medical aid…” You smiled as the cat trailed off, wiping over Jungkook’s now neatly sealed wound. “But I bet you exceed them!”

“You’re very kind, Jimin-ssi.” You gave him a quick glance over your shoulder, and he returned your smile. “Then why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s just…” Jimin trailed off again, a habit of his that you found slightly comical considering his tendency to ramble and over-explain things. Shifting on your stool next to the sleeping bunny hybrid, you gave him your full attention. When the cat looked up and saw your head tilted in curiosity, he continued. “You just look very, uh, young? I’m sorry if that’s offensive. I know you’re not supposed to ask a woman her age—”

“That’s okay, Jimin-ssi. I don’t mind. I’m twenty-five.”

Your response seemed to put him at ease. “Wow, that’s still young to be a senior vet, no?”

“Mm,” you nodded in agreement as you began tidying up the area. “After completing my bachelor’s degree, I started here as a Veterinary Assistant. I was promoted to technician shortly after that, and specialist even quicker... Guess they saw some potential in me, or maybe we were just severely understaffed,” you joked, disposing of the used supplies and taking everything that needed to be cleaned to the sanitization station.

He gave you a Cheshire grin. “Ah, so modest, Y/N-ssi… From what I’ve seen, you deserve all of that and more! And I would know best. I’m older than you, after all.”

You gave the cat an amused hum, dumping the utensils into the sink for washup later. “‘95?”

“Wha—” You didn’t have to look at him to sense the way he perked up in his seat. “How did you know?!”

“The tattoo on your finger,” you replied with a light chuckle as you walked to the storage cupboard.

Jimin’s gaze dropped to the small ‘95’ tattoo encased in a heart on the side of his right ring finger. “Oh,” he mumbled sheepishly. The fact that you had managed to notice such a slight detail about him, though, made the cat inside him purr.

“What size shirt is Jungkook?”

Jimin looked up from his hand to see you now digging around in a large container of what looked to be folded clothing. His brows pinched curiously. “Medium.”

You nodded, your hand already hovering over a black tee in medium, having guessed correctly. When you pulled the shirt from the pile, your foot nudged the container back into the cupboard before you made your way over to Jimin. He gave you a confused look as you walked right past his best friend, who lay shirtless on the table, and held the shirt out to him.

“Um—”

“It may make him a bit more comfortable to be wearing something with a familiar scent when he wakes up.” You explained, wiggling the fabric in your hand, urging him to take it. Jimin let out a noise of realization and took it from you with a nod.

“The anesthesia should be wearing off shortly. His stats are good, so it won’t be long now,” you said with a reassuring smile as you took the t-shirt back from Jimin after he had thoroughly scented the fabric.

Jimin watched silently, a small smile on his face, as you carefully pulled the shirt onto the unconscious hybrid. A frown crossed your features when you noticed his skin was cold to the touch. Concerned, you checked his heart rate on the monitor next to the bed and were relieved to find the stats still within a healthy range. After recording the data, you headed to the medical supply cupboard and gathered everything you needed in a large ziplock bag. You handed it to Jimin, along with a manual on aftercare for stitched wounds.

“I’m just going to finish up the last of the paperwork for the night before my colleague arrives to take over,” you told him. Jimin nodded with a smile, and you returned it, making sure to lower the air conditioning as you left the room.

About 20 minutes later, Jungkook woke up and walked out of the medical bay with Jimin. He was moving better now, but you could tell he was still groggy. The sound of their approaching footsteps caught your attention, and you looked up from your desk.

Jimin’s face was split into a wide grin. “What do we owe you for your magic, Y/N-ssi?”

You smiled as you handed him the invoice, then turned to Jungkook. “Do you have Hybrid Healthcare?” you asked gently.

Jungkook didn’t respond verbally, just shook his head and reached for his wallet in his back pocket, shuffling through some cash.

“Oh, you don’t have to pay all at once. If you’re good for it, we offer payment plans—”

“Are you assuming I can’t pay it all at once?” Jungkook interjected with a glare.

His sharp tone caught you off guard, and your expression shifted from soft to slightly offended. You suppressed the urge to snap back, keeping your voice steady. “No, I offer that to every patient who doesn’t have healthcare—”

Jimin looked up from the file in his hand, his confusion cutting off your explanation. “Y/N-ssi, is this the completed bill?”

You frowned. “Yes, is there something wrong?”

“Well, I saw you use two syringes, not one. And you were stitching for over 30 minutes, not fifteen like recorded. I don’t understand…”

Your heart sank. If Jungkook hadn’t thought you were pitying him before, he definitely did now.

Jungkook snatched the paper from Jimin, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the document.

“Well, I just—” you began, but Jungkook cut you off.

“You didn’t even charge me for the anesthesia,” he scoffed, practically slamming the paper on the counter before reaching for a wad of cash. “I’m not a fucking charity case, but thanks, though.” He pulled out double the amount listed on the bill and slapped it on top of the paperwork.

You were quiet as he did so, your face expressionless as you looked down at the money. Jimin gave you a guilty look, but Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you. “Is that enough? How much was it originally?”

You blinked at him, then nodded wordlessly, taking the bills and turning to the register. Your fingers tapped at the screen before the till popped open and you shoved the cash into the register, closing it a little harder than necessary. When the receipt printed, you ripped it off and handed it to Jungkook without a word.

Jungkook took the receipt in silence, his jaw clenched as he watched you.

“Y/N-ssi—” Jimin started, guilt evident in his tone.

“I gave Jimin your aftercare bag,” you said, your voice robotic as you addressed Jungkook. “Sanitize the injured area twice a day—once in the morning, once at night. Avoid swimming in pools with chlorine and stay away from salt water too. Stitches need to be removed in two weeks; you can book an appointment with my colleague, Namjoonie. He’ll be here in five minutes.”

With that, you nodded politely at the two men before turning on your heel and heading toward the staff office. The door closed behind you with a sharp click, leaving the hybrids in a heavy silence.

Jimin let out a sigh. “Aish, Jungkookie—”

“Shut up.”

[cherry-leclerc]

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: angst, yearning, humor, fluff, journalist!reader, established relationship

word count: 13.2k

There’s a lot of things you’d like to do differently in life. And the weeks leading up to that night is one of them.

inspired by doomsday, lizzy mcalpine , true blue, boygenius , cool about it, boygenius !

cherry here!… hello there. sooo this was supposed to go up a few days ago, but silly me scheduled the wrong date, haha, so this is me formally apologizing for that. on a more lighter note: i’m so excited for you guys to read this one considering this is the re-written version of ‘method acting’ if you guys even remember the original version. love u all very much, and enjoyyy :)

From his boyish smile, to his dominant smirk—you knew it all. 

The way it would slowly start to spread, but always ended with a dimple. You loved many things in life—many, many things—but nothing comes close to him. From the very start, he’s been gentle. A gentle giant, you’d sometimes joke with a teasing voice, to which he’d roll his eyes yet never deny. 

The way he’d start every sentence with—honey—and end with—I love you. The way he’d cradle your face between his hands, kissing the corner of your mouth first before pressing down completely. The way he’d translate for you with all the patience in the world. Everything about him had been so easy to learn, so easy to love.

But here, in a room, staring at each other, you begin to wonder if you ever knew him at all. Because suddenly you don’t know what the frown on his face means. What the furrowed brows with the pinched expression interpret to. You don’t know any of it. 

Why are you so surprised, though?

You caused this, anyways.

-

“I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that you don’t know how to use a USB, Lis. Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know��tech savvy?” 

Lissie aims a harsh glare before tapping her nail against the computer screen as if that might make the process a whole lot quicker. “So what? I lied on my resume. Everybody does it.”

You chuckle. “Who even uses USB’s nowadays?”

“Apparently Grandpa Will. Oh, yay, it's done!” She shimmies. “I’ll see you later, m’kay?” With that, she zips down the paddock without a second glance. You sigh, gathering your stuff and making your way down the busy crowd, heading straight towards Ferrari Hospitality. 

He’s on his computer when you first walk in, keys clicking. He nibbles on his bottom lip, knits his dark brows like he’s in pain. As soon as you tap your finger against the wall, he perks up, all his interest suddenly gone. He grins. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Lis,” you respond, claiming a seat next to him. 

The Monegasque hums, leaning in to kiss your lips swiftly. “Thank you, Elisabella.” You giggle, sneaking a quick peek at his open screen. “Whatcha’ workin’ on? Wait—let me guess. You’re getting your marriage license annulled?”

“To be with you, yes,” he agrees, nodding enthusiastically. “How do you think Joris is going to take it?”

A playful shrug. “He’s just going to have to accept it, no?”

“I suppose.” Snapping the computer shut, he fixes himself, head pressed softly against your lap, closing his eyes. The sight of his even breaths and curved nose makes you smile as you start threading your fingers through his hair. He sighs, tense shoulders instantly rolling back. “Journling, and whatnot. It’s a habit that has a near expiration date, for sure, but is quite nice as of now.”

And though he can’t see you, your neat brows raise up in surprise. “Journaling on an electronic device? Why not an actual journal? You know—something authentic. I actually know of a place back in Portland where they sell some cute ones, ver—”

“I’m not looking for cute. I’m looking for security.” A beat. “I’d lose it in a week, and we don’t want that happening, now do we? My laptop works just fine. Plus, I feel more at peace knowing it’s not something I will just leave behind.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” you declare, enjoying the way his lips twist with a childlike snarl. “Anyways, I’m glad you’ve picked up on a new hobby. It’s good for you, Charlie.”

“Learned from the best.” You blush. “By the way, media shouldn’t last longer than an hour? Wanna go out?”

“Aren’t you tired?” you question, forcing his eyelids open as he squirms, pushing your hand away.

“A little. But I still want to do something with you.”

A tired sigh. “Cute, but I can’t. Lissie and William are out for today, so it’s just me, which means I have to conduct all the interviews by myself.”

The brunette bats an eye. “Why?”

“She forgot she had a deadline—hence why I was busy helping her—and Will still has to look it over. They have to send it in by midnight and it’s���it’s a lot.”

“Why couldn’t she just email it?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” you screech, causing him to flinch and squeeze his eyes. Sheepishly, you pat his head. “He insisted on a USB. Says he wants all work done like the olden days.”

“That sucks,” he mumbles. “And who even uses USB’s nowadays? They’re so outdated.”

“That’s what I’m—” You stop, mid-sentence, lowering your voice when he sits up and scoots away. “Saying,” you finish, whispering. You purse your lips, sending a slight grimace. “You get it.”

Charles nods, standing up and placing his laptop into his duffel bag. “I’ll come back and pick you up, yeah? Meanwhile, I can maybe cook something for us.”

“Honey,” you coo. “I love you, but please don’t.” His face drops. What the fuck? You giggle. “How about take-out?”

“How about,” he mutters, stiff as a statue when you press your lips down onto his jaw, but quickly melts. “Chinese?”

“Sounds good.” Another peck. “I’ll call you!”

-

If you remember—and you do remember—you fell in love with writing ever since you watched The Devil Wears Prada. It was a reset for you because before that you had seriously considered going to law. At first, you started with column writing in your school's newspaper. No one ever read it, you’d always find it on the floor after being trampled on, but you never cared. 

Soon after, you started publishing smaller pieces here and there on your fashion blog that has since been taken down, but that was the moment you knew. Thing was, you wanted to nurture this into a career, you really did, but nothing to do with fashion, rather sports. 

Maybe it had to do with the fact that every Sunday your Grandpa would beg for you to come over to his house and watch the races with him. They were extremely boring at first. Who willingly drives for roughly two hours in loops? Then, it clicked. Everything changed and you were enthralled. 

After that, all you knew was that you wanted it bad. It was hard, studying over time in order to get done quickly and just start working, but it was well worth it. You met Lis the same year she started working with Formula One, so you both figured a lot of things out together, and for two years, it was just you and her, interviewing and writing about the drivers on the grid.

But he noticed you both years ago.

He first noticed the burn on the back of your left leg. He initially thought it was a band-aid by the way it healed, but later found out you had burned yourself with a curling iron back in highschool when you were rushing to get your senior pictures taken. Then he noticed your eyes and the way they always had a glimmer to them, even if something wasn't going your way. He respected the hell out of you after that.

 How do you do that? 

You freeze. Do what?

Stay so…so—optimistic. Happy, I suppose.

You laughed then, and he saw the way your hair fell over your shoulder like a silk curtain. He would have smiled if he wasn’t so stuck up on that. It’s all a facade. They way you see me—it’s not real.

Believe me, I don’t think you’re real.

You blush, looking back down at your journal where you’ve been too busy scribbling prior to his question. You just have to ignore them sometimes, you know? Remind yourself that they don’t know you and you don’t know them. Trust me, it helps.

And after that, you two never stopped talking. 

Whether it was about work, or perhaps even the weather, you two always had something going on. Something everyone noticed, but never brought up. And at one point, you confessed your next dream.

Journalist of the Year, he repeated, a goofy smile slowly itching his skin. Yeah, I can see that.

It’s not that easy, though, you retort, exhaling heavily. I mean, I’ve been doing this for quite a while now and I haven’t even been considered once, which is fine, maybe I’m not good enough, but maybe it’s also time to…I don’t know—give up?

He kept quiet, kept his eyes focused on you, and frowned. If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have. 

Pft, you scoff. Nah. Not this. It’s nearly unattainable for someone like me. Even Lissie has won, and we’ve been here for the same amount of years. Now I’m not saying she doesn’t deserve it, but that just comes to show that there’s always someone better. And I’m just here. You look up. It’s okay, you can laugh.

A beat. I could be a hypocrite to tell you that it’s not good to measure how talented you are or how talented you can be based on some award, but Jesus Chrsit, I do the same thing. I understand. And it’s because I understand that I’m telling you to keep working hard and prove yourself to them. You have it in you—I’ve known ever since we met. You smile. Your time will come, yeah?

And for the first time: you believed it. 

A nod. Thanks, Charles. Yours will too.

About a month later, you two started officially dating. It almost seemed too good to be true at times, but wherever he looked for you in the crowd, you knew it just had to be. 

But the start of your relationship was also the end of something else.

Interviews and articles? 

He nods. Right. None of that.

You follow his actions, nodding numbly as you blink. So, no more working together? Because you want me to have a fair shot?

Yes, he confirmed. I just don’t want you to be nominated—because it’s only a matter of time, I have a feeling—and feel as if they picked you simply because of your dating status. 

Who’s going to do all of that, then? 

There’s plenty of other reporters. Lissie? Will? Maybe even Natalie. He took a step closer, grabbing your hands gently. What I’m trying to say is that I want you to feel accomplished. That what you did was simply because of your work, and not having to do with your connections because trust me, that doesn’t feel good.

But I love working with you. You give his hand a squeeze, tilting your head and smiling sadly. You’re my favorite person to write about and talk to…

And he genuinely seemed to be pained by your words, wincing.

But you suck it up because you know he’s right. I’ll always be your favorite?

Only the best.

A hum. Alright then. You take a step back, extending your hand for a professional handshake. He smiles, taking it and giving it a good tug.

 It was nice working with you, Mr. Leclerc.

-

“I’ll never understand,” Lissie starts, pressing the elevator button for the twenty-fifth floor and chewing on a licorice. “Why you two ever create such a stupid rule like that?” A hard chew. “All I’m saying is that it could have definitely helped you out a whole lot. You probably would have won by now.”

You roll your eyes, but not without thinking how she might be right. You’ve definitely wondered about a world in which you two hadn’t taken this approach, and while it would have been nice, you also know that it would have felt a little less special knowing that being a nepo to Charles had something to do with it. Which is most likely what would have happened, let’s be completely honest here. 

“You came to this arrangement, what? Twenty years ago, maybe fourty? And it’s not to be rude, but you haven't been nominated, so was this really worth it if it hasn’t made much of a difference?”

“Okay,” you grunt, ripping the red candy away from her and throwing it into the nearby trash as soon as you step out of the elevator. She pouts, following along. “I think we get it, I fucked up, very funny.”

“No,” she hums. “I never said you did, I was simply thinking, that's all.” You scoff. “But whatever. I have a feeling this is it. You definitely have it in the bag. They’d be crazy not to add you for a fourth time!”

Spinning, you smile bitterly at the Brit girl. She gulps. “Thank you, Lis, your mild support is very much appreciated.”

You turn back around, walking faster.

“Sheesh, sorry,” she hisses, entering the familiar office with a lost expression.

Carly, your manager runs over, practically jumping onto you and hugging you tight. “Lis, close the door!” You groan at the loud sound against your ear, but she's none the wiser, already embracing you harder. “You did it!”

“I told you!” Lissie shoots smugly.

You freeze, heart racing. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not lying—”

“Why would she be lying?”

Letting go, Carly lets out a delirious laugh. “Everything—all of it—has finally paid off. You did it, you’re on the list!”

“Holy shit,” you whisper in disbelief, playing with your necklace as you pace the spacious office. Lissie and Carly both grin at each other from ear to ear, nodding enthusiastically. You come to a halt. “Are you making this up because I said I would kill myself if I didn’t make it this year because, for your information, I was totally kidding!”

“It’s not a joke,” the redhead squeals, jumping again. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I am too!” Lissie shrieks, running and kissing you face as you try your best to swat her away even though you’re laughing. “Even after what I said in the elevator, I knew this shit was the real deal this time! Didn’t I tell you? Carly, I told her.” She twirls you, making you grin harder.  “You won!”

“Okay, let's touch some grass, ladies,” Carly cuts in. “We can’t forget that this is just a nomination and that there’s still work that needs to be done in order to secure our best chances.”

“Right,” you respond, elegantly fixing yourself and nodding up and down. You freeze. “Wait, what work? I thought this was it?”

Carly shakes her head. “Oh honey, we’re just getting started.” A pause. “You have to write an article.”

“I am—confused. What do you mean by article?”

The Brit takes a seat in a nearby chair, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “It’s their one and only requirement. Show them why they should pick you.”

Carly nods, red hair bouncing. “Shouldn’t be too hard. You’re as talented as they come. Just do what you do, but…better!”

Color drains your face as you go back to pacing. “What do you mean better? This is all I got! There’s nothing left to show, oh God—”

“What are you talking about?” your manager yelps. “There’s always more!”

“Exactly,” Lissie hums, somehow munching on another piece of candy. “There’s always—that, yeah. More.”

Your eye twitches. “Okay, you already went through this and won. How did you do it?”

She pouts, tapping the licorice against her lips before clicking her fingers. “I wrote my piece on fashion and how it’s made its way into Formula One. Wasn’t even that hard. Well. Shouldn't be. Write what you know and it’ll come to ya, they say. Or maybe they don’t, but definitely still do that.”

Your shoulders drop, plopping down next to her and placing a pillow over your face. “Fuck. That’s genius.” It is, isn’t it? she mumbles, slowly chewing in deep thought. Screaming into the pillow, you feel the frustration you didn’t have a second ago finally erupt. “What am I going to do?”

“Sweetheart,” Carly starts, forearms pressed against her glass desk, and stern eyes trained onto you. ���You have got to be one of the most raw writers I have ever worked with.” A beat. “Sorry, Lis.” 

“Screw you,” she snarls, focusing on her phone now. 

Your manager sighs, rubbing her temples. “And please take that as a compliment because it is. You don’t hold back, and you tell it how it is. That’s what makes you one of the best! And if it weren’t for you wanting this, I would have definitely sent an angry email on your behalf because you deserve this more than anyone.”

“Wow,” the Brit muttered, raising her dark brows. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, cringing. “But you’ve won already, Lis, and we supported you, and now…” She faces you again with soft eyes. “We’re doing this for you. You got it, m’kay?”

“But—” your voice cuts off as you blink rapidly, losing focus with the thought of failing, imprinting itself into the forefront of your mind. “I don’t know what to write about, which is weird because I always have an idea, at least. That’s simply a bad sign, that much I know.”

“It’s only bad if you think it is,” Lissie says, clicking her phone off and smiling gently. “But in all honesty, I think it’s actually quite good. That means you know what's at stake, and you know you have to make this the best goddamn article in your entire life.” A beat. “Write what you know, I’m telling you.”

“What she said,” Carly squeaks cheerfully, eyes crinkling as she starts pouring champagne and handing them one by one. “But just so you know, we have to get this in by October thirteenth because they make their decision by the sixteenth.”

“But that’s Charles’ birthday week,” you wail, rubbing your eyes harshly. “Fucking hell—”

“He’ll understand,” Lissie cuts you off, clicking her glass against Carly’s who shrugs, sipping neatly. “All of us know he will.”

“Okay then,” you whisper slowly. You curl your hand tighter against the glass. “Cheers?”

“Cheers, mate!”

-

Entering his Monaco flat, Charles lets out a tired sigh, taking his shoes off and flinging his keys to the nearby coffee table. The loud thud makes him flinch before running over hurriedly. A large scratch lays across the rich wood as he panics, kneeling down to inspect it carefully.

“Are you serious, Charlie?” he hears over his shoulder, jumping to find you with a frown on your lips and hands on your hips. “That was a gift!”

“I’m sorry!” he squeaks. “From your Grandpa, I know, I’m sorry!”

You let out a breath, shrugging. “It’s fine. How was your day?”

He eyes you suspiciously once before getting closer to you and kissing you hello. “Eh. Decent. Yours?”

Plump lips twist before flattening back out. “Decent.”

He squints, noticing the way you play with your necklace. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” you answer quickly. Defensively.

His brows furrow deeper. “Blow me.”

“Blow you?”

“Yes. Right here, right now—blow me.” He demonstrates, letting out a breath as if taking a breathalyzer test. 

You let out a sore laugh, rolling your heels as you stumble back. What? Your laughing stops, though tears run down your face as you try to get your words out. “You mean breathe out, not blow you.” Your giggles pick up once again, making him blush deep red. “God, you need to learn a bit more proper english.”

He looks away, cringing at the sound of his voice replaying, and then turning with a stoic face. “Don’t change the subject.” A pause. “Breathe out.”

You freeze. “Why?”

“Don’t ask questions, just do it.” “I’m not going to do it.”

“Just do it,” he presses harder.

You glare. “No. I’m not.”

Taking one last glance, he leaps forward with zero warning and starts tickling you, making your squeal. Stop! “Breathe!” I am breathing, you twat! “Blow me—God damn it! Whatever! Blow! Breathe! Blow!” 

“Fine, fine, just stop!” you screech, giggles coming to an end as he nods and stares down at you, which by now, you’re laid down on the couch with him towering over. You blush, breathing out lightly, nearly nothing. He rolls his eyes. Blow me harder. “Blow me harder,” you mimic, copying his accent. 

He groans. “You get what I’m saying—”

“I don’t, though,” you joke, laughing harder. As soon as your eyes shut, he smiles down at you affectionately, but when they open again, he reverts his lips back into a straight line. Your lips wobble playfully. Letting out a big breath, he whiffs strongly. “Gross, Cha!”

“You smell like strawberry sorbet, relax.” A beat. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out for me.”

“Okay, this is getting really kinky.”

He aims for a deadpan expression. 

Rolling your eyes, you do as you're told and he lets out a scream. “What the fuck!”

“It’s red!”

“No duh, Charles!”

“Strawberry sorbet. The last pint. You ate it all, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So that's a yes.”

You frown.

“And we always share, but when we don’t it’s because you’re going through something and you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Okay, Sherlock Holmes, we get it,” you grunt, pushing him off as you sit up. He does the same, staring at you, concerned. “By the way, does that upset you?”

“The ice cream? Nah.”

You nod, then yawn. “Why do you have to be so attentive?”

“Because I love you.”

You smile. “I made it onto the list.”

“The list?”

“The list.”

A wide grin dances across his pink lips as he jumps onto the coach, up and down, making you bounce and stare up with a soft look. “The list! Thee list. Holy crap, congratulations, honey!” Landing on the ground, he hugs you, digging his face into the crook of your neck and kissing it over and over. “You smell nice—congrats—is that citrus—wait, this smells really nice—”

“It is citrus,” you giggle as he separates from you. “And thanks. It means the most coming from you.”

Silence takes over for a second or two before his brows knit neatly. “What’s wrong?”

“No. Nothing.” They raise up higher. “I’m not gonna lie—I’m scared.”

Tugging you closer to his chest, he drags so you two are laying back down. You close your eyes at the feeling of his arms wrapping around you like some blanket. “About what? You totally got this.”

“Hmph. It’s just that, I, uh. I have to write an article on a topic of my choice, and—I. Don’t know? I have no clue what to write about.”

Listening attentively, he doesn’t interrupt as your words begin to pour out like a prayer. He doesn’t even interrupt when you say something along the lines of being “at best—mediocre”, even though he really wanted to. You scoff. “It’s a silly problem to have, I’m well aware, but…it’s the truth.”

The Monegasque picks your breathing patterns, mindlessly copying as you cuddle him. “You’ll figure it out.”

You swiftly look up, cheek pressed against his heart beat. “That’s it?”

“What else do you want me to say?”

What do you want him to say? Your lips open aimlessly, then close forcefully. 

He grabs a nearby blacket, covering you both and hugging you the same he’s seen you hug your teddy bear. “I think you need to have a little bit more faith. In yourself, that is. Because your mind…” Green eyes connect with yours as your breath comes to a strong halt. He tends to make your body react that way, quite often. He sends a simple grin. Dimples and all.

“It's the most beautiful thing on this earth.”

-

Abu Dhabi 2021.

It’s been talked about too much already.

Spain 2016.

You’re kidding, right?

Fine. Azerbaijan 2018—

You let out a muffled scream. “Pierre, no! I need something better.”

“Better than all that drama?” he dead pans, genuinely confused as to why his ideas are being shut down.

You exhale, hair flying outward. “I love it too, but I need something new. Unheard of.”

The Frenchman pauses, curling a brow. “I’ve gone blank.”

You bite down on your tongue, shrugging it off. “It’s okay. I should probably come up with my own topic, anyways.”

Getting up, you wave goodbye and make your way to the ice cream truck that’s been rented out for the weekend. Smartest investment, you think to yourself as you twirl your tongue around the lavender spoon. 

“This time I really do mean it—blow me.”

Squinting up at the sun—which so happens to be behind Charles like a halo—you chuckle, feeding him a spoonful. “Good, no?”

“Delicious,” he hums, going in for another. “Have you tried the funnel cakes?” They have funnel cakes? you squeal, eyes shining. He nods. “Want one?”

You deflate. “Later.”

Watching the crowd walk by, you two sit there, switching turns and enjoying each other's company. It’s amazing how no one comes up to Charles, either. Not that he would mind, but it’s definitely a nice surprise. Glancing over, he hands the spoon back to you. “Come up with something?”

“I have a few ideas, but nothing solid yet.”

Pistachio ice cream melts away faster. “I told Pierre to leave you alone, I hope he didn’t bother you too much.”

“He’s actually the reason why I have these ideas. Don’t let him know, though, I would never live it down.”

Watercolor eyes go wide. “Really? Pierre actually helped?”

“Weird, huh?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Don’t stress out too much, honey. You still have time.”

You purse your lips. “But the sooner I figure it, the sooner I can start and just focus, and do the proper research and try and—”

“You have time,” he reaffirms with a knowing look. You cock your head and he sends a sly grin. “Plenty.”

“Plenty,” you copy as he nods along. Extending his arm, he signals to the spoon. You shake your head. “You can have the rest.”

“You’re the gift that keeps on giving.”

-

Write what you know. Write. What. You. Know.

What the fuck does that even mean?

Biting down on your pen, you’re spaced out, staring at the picture frame. In it, Charles and Carlos smile, you can tell, behind their helmets. While the Monegasque’s eyes crinkle sweetly, the Spaniards are dilated and wide. Both nice, but nothing beats those green eyes. 

You can slowly feel your sanity slipping away, day by day. There’d be times where you thought you had it figured out, but then you’d bring it up and Lissie would smile and say—

“Yes! Stick to that one! Start it. Right now.”

It wouldn’t seem genuine because you know she just wanted you to get it done given it’s due in less than two weeks. And even though it was good, it wasn’t good enough. 

“I’m just going to brainstorm a few more ideas.”

She’d given up, mumbling beneath her breath and grabbing her keynotes and headed to her meeting. Well, technically it was your meeting too, but again. Time crunch.

Hence, why you’re admiring the picture and thinking harder than you were a minute ago. The door slides open then, the two Ferrari drivers back from their media duties. You rip your gaze away as soon as they make their way closer. “How does one fake their own disappearance?”

“Oi,” the brown eyed boy warns, toothy grin expanding. “Good question, though.”

“Oi, you,” your boyfriend warns back, glaring at his teammate. “At this point, I’m sure she’d go through with it.” He turns to you. “Honey, you’ve got to decide already, it can’t be that hard.”

“I know that!” you burst out, ears burning as you avoid their eyes. “But there’s just so much! I don’t want to jump the gun and make a mistake, is all.”

Carlos juts his lip, then rolls his jaw. “If only you took someone’s very good proposition.”

A scoff. “I wasn’t going to write about Papaya Rules, Chili.”

“It would’ve been so good, though!” A beat. “What about—”

“Nor multi-21.”

His expression drops, along with his shoulders, and strolls away, flipping you off. I hope you figure it out, then! A low chuckle makes its way as you exhale loudly. “C’mon, what’s the problem this time?”

You bite your lip, brows drawn in together as you gaze back at Charles. “I’m not entirely convinced.”

“Honey…”

“A-and I know I’m running out of time, but I just want it to be perfect!”

He smiles, throwing his arm on your shoulder. “And it will be, but you need a topic.”

“Yeah…” You raise a brow.  “What happened to having ‘plenty’ of time?”

The Monegasque wiggles his brows. “You can’t take up too much advantage.”

-

I’ve decided. 

That’s the lie you settle with because quite frankly, you’re done with the constant questions. If you were going to come up with the best matter to write about, then you need to have a clear head. Carly is over the moon, Lissie is ecstatic, and Charles is proud. 

Great! What’s it going to be about?

It’s a surprise. 

At first, they were all as curious as can be, but later when you insisted that it’d be better that way, they nodded, though the interest was still there. 

Now—with only a week and a half before your due date—you lay, plopped on your stomach, fingers teasing the keyboard as you watch Charles jump into his race suit. You sigh, sitting up. “I think I’m going to stay in here today.”

He fixes the zipper. “Yeah?”

You nod. “That way I can work and watch you.” You point to the T.V. hung up on his room wall. “Is that okay with you?”

“Whatever you need to do in order to focus, baby.” A wink. “It’s fine by me.”

They’re in lap sixty out of seventy-five, the last time you check, and your page remains as white as a ghost and as bare as a newborn baby. It’s both amusing and mind-boggling. Groaning, you hit your head with the back of your hand before running it down your face. Then, to make matters worse, your laptop dies.

Shit, you grit as you look around and spot Charles’ placed neatly on top of a nearby chair. Strolling over, you grab and open it, typing in his passcode and signing into your account. A few seconds later, the blank page resurfaces. Blinking slowly, you spot it. 

Notes. 

You take a look around, but really don’t know why since you’re the only one in his motorhome, and then click onto the App, furrowing your brows with concentration. 

Turns out, you really like to read because one after another, you skim through his journal entries without a second thought. Eagerly, might you add. Some things you know, others you don’t, but nevertheless, you’re caught off guard. How sensitive he is and how it portrays in every word. Not only are you amazed, but you’re completely engrossed. 

And it sparks something in you.

With a large grin, the brunette makes his way back to his room, trophy in hand and handshakes and pats on the back all around. Grazie mille, he beams as he makes his way closer, sending a final wave before opening his door. Finding you with his spare helmet over your head, he laughs. You giggle, opening the visor. “That’s one good looking winner!”

He laughs, placing the gold trophy down and enjoying you the way you struggle to take it off. You let out a loud gasp as soon as he assists you, tugging it off. “Shit.” Another gasp. “How do you wear that thing for two hours?” Fixing your hair, you pat it down as you send him a sheepish smile. “Give me a kiss!”

“No thanks. Too sweaty.”

Pouting, you pinch his ear tenderly before he gives in, pressing his lips against yours. “You were amazing out there, Charlie. You really were, I want you to know.”

Green eyes soften as he tries his best to savor this moment. “Only cause you say so.” You giggle, hugging his waist and he drapes his hands over your shoulders and rests his chin on top of your head. “How far along were you able to get?”

A hum. “Quite far, actually.”

He lets out a whistle, making your cheeks glow. “Looks like we’re both having a good day.”

“Looks like,” you swoon. “Looks like.”

Tilting your head back, you match with his eyes as he sends a dimpled smile. 

Write what you know, you think to yourself as he leans back down to kiss you. His lips greedily crash against your own as you let out a soft moan, playing with his hair, large hands making their way down to your ass. And you, my dear Charlie…

He groans, shuddering as soon as you grind back against his thigh. You smile, admiring his open mouth.

I know you very well.

-

You feel guilty when you start on your first page, but by the time you make it to your third, you’ve talked yourself out of it. You would explain. As soon as you’re done, before you turn it in, you would explain it all to him. Tell him that this is simply because you love him. How he’s your biggest inspiration, and how this wasn’t you using him, but rather you showing others how amazing he truly is.

He notices it right away—the determination. And he admires you for it because he hasn’t seen you like that ever since your writer’s block. So, he tries not to intrude in moments where you’re on a roll, and instead makes sure to have a bath ready for you. He joins you sometimes, too.

Cracking your fingers, you yawn, exhausted, and stretch like a cat. He chuckles, closing his book like a light thud. “Update?”

“Six pages.”

“Wow. You really got it going on.” You blush. “You deserve something sweet. What do you want?”

“But it’s so late, and you have to be up early tomorrow…”

He rolls his eyes, already grabbing your trench coat. “It’s a bit cold out right now.”

You smile.

It’s not that far of a walk, three miles. After buying you a hot chocolate—with extra whip—he takes your mitten covered hand and leads you out the small coffee shop. By now, not many people are out, so it makes for a calm stroll.

“Shhh—ah,” you hiss, tongue sticking out as your face twists with subtle pain. He laughs, eyes crinkling. Drink slowly, he says, voice laced with humor. “The cool air helps,” you murmur, blowing on the hot drink. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?”

He shakes his head. “I just wanted you to unwind.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” you coo, enjoying the way his ears turn pink. You giggle. “Why do I feel like you’re thinking about something, though?”

“I am. You.” A gust of wind dances. “Always.”

You purse your lips, taking a slow sip, lipstick painting the white lid. “I’m serious, Cha. You’ve been quiet ever since you got off that phone call two hours ago.” Neat brows knit together with concern. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he answers, but it’s too quick for it to be the truth.

Giving his large hand a squeeze, you send a knowing look. His breath hitches. “You can talk to me—”

“Are you almost done with your article?” he asks, obviously changing the topic as he stares up ahead, and if not, down at his shoes. Pink nose twitches. “I miss you, and call me greedy, but I was hoping you’d be done before my birthday, at least, that way we could…I don’t know—” He shrugs. “You’ve just been really busy—which I get why, and I understand—but I miss y-you.”

Wincing, you chew your bottom lip a couple times before letting go. “Almost, but.” His shoulders drop, making your stomach twist. You panic. “I feel like I’m missing something. Like the final bang in order for it to be…” A beat. “I’ll be done before your birthday, you can count on that.”

Round eyes finally flicker up as he nods, a more relaxed look evident. “This makes me sound so needy,” he says. “Which I guess I am, bu—”

“Don’t apologize,” you cut him off with a reassuring smile. “But please, tell me what’s going on…”

The Monegasque stiffens. Despite walking, you can tell. You can feel it. Also, it doesn’t take a genius to notice. “They’re not renewing Carlos’ contract for next year.”

You stop walking, making him stop too. He’s still holding onto you, rubbing small circles against cashmere. “W-why?”

“Guess.”

Your mind races. The rumors have definitely been swirling—everyone’s heard—but really? “They’re actually doing it?”

He nods.

“Lewis,” you whisper like it the first time you pronounce his name. “This is, uh…wow. I mean, wow.” 

“Yup,” he says, popping the p. “Wow, for sure.” Letting go, he takes a small step back, but still faces you with an uneasy look. “They brought it up as a possibility, but I don’t know why I never thought they’d be capable of…” He grimaces. “I can’t even begin to imagine how Carlos must be feeling.”

“Weren’t they just praising him last time during your guys’ team meeting?” You curl the cup towards your chest. “That’s fucked up.” Charles sighs, pinching the tip of his nose swiftly. Your eyes fill up with concern. “What about you?”

“I got an extension.”

You let out a breath of relief, nodding. “O-okay, okay. That’s good, Charlie, that’s really good.” When he keeps quiet, you pause all movement and blink feverishly. “Why are you upset, then?”

“I’m not,” he answers. “Only worried.” Listening closely, you silently wait for him to continue. He sighs, rubbing his eyes, suddenly tired. “It’s just that…he. He’s Lewis,” he finishes like that’s enough explanation.

You curl a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A weak chuckle. “It means he’s better, and the team is going to favor him over me.” A timid shrug. “I get it, though. If anyone can bring a Championship home for the team, it’s going to be him.”

“It’s going to be you.”

“No.” The light in his eyes gave out, slowly and painfully so. “It’s not.”

Berry lips open, then close lamely, analyzing him like the world's biggest mystery. Sternly, you narrow your eyes down like knives. “World Champion?”

He flinches.

You click your tongue. “Do you realize how crazy you sound?”

“What?” he says, puzzled.

You nod. “Why are you giving up so easily, huh?”

Sharp jaw clenches. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s because he’s a former World Champion, and I’m not.” He chuckles sourly. “It’s really not that difficult to figure out. I mean, I’ve been working for it for so long now, and look at me! I’m nowhere close to being there!”

Silence. Chest heaves. You never let go of your gaze, and he has no other choice than to do the same. He’s not mad at you—not mad at anyone, really—but he’s frustrated. And yeah. Maybe he is giving up the fight, but anyone else who was in his position would too. No one wants to be the laughing stock, no one wants to be compared. 

“Listen to me Charles Leclerc, and listen to me closely because I’m only going to say this once.”

He waits.

“If it’s something you want, then it’s most likely something you can have.”

Pink lips turn upward as he tilts his head in the slightest of tilts.

Holding his face between your delicate hands, you raise your brows, shivering at the icy air. He can feel your hand vibrate against his skin as he grabs them, brings them up to his mouth, and blows hot air onto them. “I believe in you. Everybody does. Do you believe in that?”

And it takes a moment for him to answer. It takes a moment for it to register. He nods. Sure of himself.

“Only because you do.”

-

“A USB?” He frowns. “I thought you hated those?”

“I do,” you say, combing through your hair, staring at him through the reflection of the mirror. “But I feel like this makes it real. Physically turning it in, I mean. It’s dumb, but…” You check the time, shrieking and grabbing your things. “Carly is going to kill me! Okay, I’ll be back in an hour, and then we can go with your family for dinner, or I’ll meet you there, yeah?” You huff. “Red or white wine?”

“Sparkling water,” he ponders. “Maman is trying to get to ‘quit.’ Which is probably not the right way to put it because it’s not like Lorenzo, Arthur, and I are alcoholics.”

“Oh. Alright then, I’ll just get that instead.” Tippy toeing, you peck his cheek briskly, sweet perfume hitting him. “I love you.”

Adoration fills his watercolor eyes. “I love you, too.”

Who knew?

Who knew that’d be the last time you’d hear those words coming from him?

-

Entering the familiar office, you wheeze, crouching down to catch your breath before sending over a coy smile. Carly laughs, clearly amused, before signaling to the chair that sits right in front of her. “We could have done this any other day as long as it was before the deadline, you know?”

“No,” you pant, heart beat barely switching back to its regular pace. Well. Sort of. “I need to get this out of the way, I promised Charles I’d be free before his birthday. He said it was his one and only wish, could you believe that, he’s so cute, isn’t he?” She blinks. Pink dusts your cheekbones. “Anyways, here it is.”

Looking down at your extended hand, she almost lets out a snicker. “I get I’m older than you, but really? You emailing it to me would have been just as effective.”

“I didn’t want to risk it going straight into your spam folder.” That, and I don’t want to see when you actually read it because I have a funny feeling you’re going to disapprove, which is okay, fair. “Here.”

“Very well, then,” she mumbles, retrieving it. “Why don’t we proofread it together one more time before send—”

Horrified at the innocent suggestion, you leap up from your chair, pushing back. “There’s no need, I checked it about a thousand times.” She raises a sharp brow at your outburst, the defensiveness in it. You laugh nervously. “And I should get going, anyways. Pascale is cooking Cha an early birthday dinner, can’t be late.”

Placing her forearms against the table, she nods slowly, but still unsure. “I won’t hold you back any longer, then. Tell him I said happy birthday.”

Tight lips form a forced smile, uneven breaths expanding. “Of course.”

You’re expected in an hour, so when you should be up forty-five minutes early, Pascale is pleased, but a bit surprised. Hugging you hello, she opens the door wider, letting you in. “They’re out in the back. Dinner should be ready in a bit.”

“No worries. Do you need any assistance?”

She shakes her head, thin blond hair swaying. “I’ve got it all under control, chérie.”

Nodding, you put your things down and start making your way towards the sound, beers clinking. You let out a snicker. “And here you are claiming not to be an alcoholic,” you joke. Flustered, Charles turns to face your soft voice. 

“It’s my first,” he squeaks.

“Third,” both Lorenzo and Arthur shoot, greeting you with a gentle nod. 

“It barely even has any alcohol,” your boyfriend tries defending, but the crack in his voice makes everyone burst out with laughter. Blood rushes to his cheeks. “Weren’t you supposed to be with Carly?”

“I was, but we got done pretty quickly.”

“What’d she think?” he asks, tugging you onto his lap. You giggle, meanwhile Arthur gags and Lorenzo blinks unbothered. “Bet she loved it.”

“I wouldn’t know. I left before she read it.”

He cocks his head. “Seriously?”

You nod. “You said you wanted my full attention.”

“I didn’t say it like that—”

“Well, now you have it.” You kiss his nose gingerly. “Happy early birthday, Charlie.”

The Monegasque smiles deeply. “Thank you.”

“Arthur! Lorenzo! Come help and set the table!”

Arthur groans. “Why just us? What about Charles?”

Poking her head out the window, Pascale aims a stern look, making him dash up. You laugh, ideally going to stand up, but gets tugged back down onto his thigh. You roll your eyes. “I should help, too. But you stay here and relax.”

“I will, but only if you stay with me.”

“Pascale needs my help—”

“Right, but she has both of them already.” He gives your hair a gentle tug. “Stay.”

Sighing, you nod, resting your head on his shoulder as he holds you. From here, you can see the breathtaking view of Monaco’s sunset. The ocean, the trees. Filled with satisfaction in life, you kiss the side of his neck, making him squirm slightly. “Carly says happy birthday. Early. Early birthday.”

A hum. “Make sure to tell her that I said thank you, the next time you see her.”

The sound of waves crashing sings softly. He traces shapes down your leg. “When will I be able to read it?”

You’re sure you stop breathing. “S-soon. After Carly gives me the green light, at least.”

A beat. “I’m excited.”

Your stomach churns. “You are?”

“Mhm. Very. Didn’t you know I was your biggest fan?”

Fixing yourself to look at him, you open your lips, feeling how dry they’ve become. “Charles—”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

A sore laugh. “They’re calling you.”

You reach towards your back pocket, pulling it out. Carly Freeman. Clicking it off, you shake your head. “It’s nothing.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

He wiggles his brows. “Doesn’t seem like it’s nothing. Answer her, it’s fine.”

“She’s going to have to wait until tomorrow,” you announce, standing up and dusting your hands off. “I’m here with you, and she's going to have to wait. Whatever it is, it can’t be more important than this.”

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. 

He sends a worried look. “Are you sure? What if it has something to do with your article? You should pick up—”

“I said I’m here with you,” you affirm. “Tomorrow. She’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Standing to his full height, he sends a gesture towards the house. “Let's go?”

His hand reaches out, waiting for you. You smile, taking it. “Let’s go.”

-

Your phone keeps buzzing and it doesn’t let him sleep.

That, and Carly is a terrible liar.

Shifting in the bed as quietly as possible, Charles reaches for your phone, trying his best not to wake you. “Hello?” he croaks. The line stays quiet, static rolling. “I know it's you, Carly.”

“Charles! How’s my favorite driver?” 

You twist, unwrapping your leg that was draped over him. He freezes, soothing you a bit before you settle down. Climbing off the bed, he walks out, gently closing the door and heading towards the living room. “I know your favorite is Fernando, what’s up?”

She laughs nervously, cursing underneath her breath. “Is my little journalist with you?”

“She is.”

“Great! May I speak with her very quick—”

“But she’s asleep.” She groans. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“Well…”

Sitting down on the couch, he leans back, placing his feet onto the coffee table. Normally, he wouldn’t, but you weren’t here right now, and lucky for him, he wasn’t wearing any shoes. He clicks his tongue. “Does this have something to do with your guys’ meeting today?”

“Yes. And no.” More static. “Do you mind waking her up for me?”

“Um…well I do. Sorry, Carly, but she needs to get some rest, she’s been working non-stop, and—”

“No, no, I get it!” she squeals. “I totally understand. Can you let her know that I need to talk to her as soon as possible? Like—urgent. Please and thank you and have a good night!”

“Wait,” he says, furrowing his brows and pushing the phone closer to his ear. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing to worry about. Too much,” she adds. “It’s just that I need a bit of clarification, that’s all.”

“Clarification?”

“Yup. On a tiny mistake of hers. But we can fix it together, she still has time, and if she hurries then we can still meet the dea—”

“She doesn’t make mistakes, though. Ever.”

A hiss. “It’s a tiny one, Charles—”

“Okay, tell me and I’ll tell her.”

“What? I can’t. I need to speak directly with her first.”

“Carly…”

“What now?” she grits. 

“What’s the issue?” he presses harder. “I’ll let her know right now.”

The line goes quiet. For a moment, he begins to wonder if she’s hung up already, but when she clears her throat, he listens carefully, but can’t decipher her mumbles.

“She gave me the wrong USB.” That’s it? She groans. “Listen to me Charles—the USB she brought to be today only has her title written on it along with a few notes about what it’s supposed to be about. It’s the wrong one and I need the other one now.”

“Okay,” he mutters slowly, nodding. “I’m sure she’ll bring it to you once I let her know, but that’s going to have to be until tomorrow.”

She gasps. “You said you’d let her know right now!”

He winces. “I know I did, but it’s late! Trust me, though. I’ll tell her you called and I’ll even drive her myself tomorrow to drop it off. It must be around here somewhere right…” And it sure is. Sitting nicely on the coffee table, inches away from his feet. He sits up straight away, picking it up as if it were some sort of new discovery. Which in a way, it was. “Carly, why is this so important to you?”

“She’s my favorite client,” she answers without missing a beat. “I only want what’s best for her, and right now we need to fix this little mishap and get this article in as soon as possible.” A beat. “Also, maybe don’t mention the first part to Lissie, she’d totally kill me.”

Analyzing the black USB, he remains stoic, blinking only because he needs to. “Goodnight, Carly…”

“Yeah. I, um—goodnight, Charles.”

Once he hangs up, he’s quick on his feet, retrieving his laptop from the counter and sticking the drive in without a second to process what he’s doing. He shouldn’t. Probably. Definitely not. But the interest Carly clearly has was enough to poke his mind and for him to start wondering what on earth is so significant? 

And it’s so obvious now why.

Charles Lecelrc: The Man Behind the Helmet

His eyes skim fast, narrowing sharply.

Like any other human being, he struggles with depression, though fails to admit. Many sleepless nights, many fights, many canceled therapy appointments, I begin to question: does every praise his fans give him make him think he’s above all these things? The truth hurts, but it's only because it's real. And Charles Lecelrc, you are nowhere close to being as perfect as everyone makes you out to be.

His heart stops, re-reading the last sentence. He wishes for it to say anything but that, but it never changes, and it only mocks him like a school bully. 

Many assume that the death of his late-father, Hervé, and his late-godfather, Jules Bianchi, have made him stronger in a sense. That it has fed the drive in him to succeed. To be the best of the best, but what if that wasn’t true at all? Would any of you be surprised? Probably, but again, no one truly knows him the way I do. So, what feeds his determination? 

The thought of failing the same way they did. 

Anger bubbles up inside of him, grinding his molar until they crunch loudly against his temples. 

But who can blame him for having that fear inherited down onto him? Tabloids also have a part in this, and so do unwanted changes. One way or another, we can relate with the latter, but never in the way he does. Reading and hearing rumors takes a toll on Charles, that much is true, but what can we expect when his next new teammate is a seven-time World Champion. 

I guess the only question that stands in not only our minds, but also his… 

Is he strong enough to come head to head with someone as talented as Lewis Hamil—

“Wake up.”

Groggily, you rub your eyes. “Charlie, it’s dark out, come on. Come back to bed.”

“Stop calling me that, and get up.” In a single movement, he rips the blanket away and yanks you from your wrist, forcing you to sit. You gasp, his change of heart sobering you up from your sleepy daze. 

“What’s wrong with you?”

He laughs. “Me? What’s wrong with me? Are you serious right now or are you stupid?”

You flinch, taken aback. “Don’t talk to me like that, what did I do?”

“I won’t waste my breath explaining.” He drops his laptop on the bed, making you freeze as soon as you spot the familiar USB. “I'll let you re-read it.” 

“Where did you get this from?”

“Really? That’s what’s important to you?” He rolls his jaw, rubbing it until his skin turns a light shade of red. “If you don’t want me finding it, then next time don’t leave it out.”

Your lips go dry, crawling to the edge of the bed, but as soon as you’re about to reach out for him, he grimaces, shaking his head and taking three steps back. “Charlie—”

“No,” he hisses, glaring at you with utter hatred. The sight alone makes your eyes well up. “You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to call me that ever again.” A cry rings through the air as you cover your hands over your face. “A-am I supposed to be impressed by what I read or what?”

“It’s no—”

“Did I do something to upset you or w-why were you talking about me like that?” he questions, genuine confusion taking over as he furrows his brows until they cause his eyes to pinch up too. 

Sniffling, you get up quickly, shaking your head adamantly until you get dizzy. “It wasn’t supposed to come off across that way! Are you kidding me?” Grabbing your heart, you soften your eyes. “I’m your biggest supporter.”

“Yeah? Well, that,” he snarls, pointing at the open screen like it's the most disturbing thing. “That doesn’t make sense with what you’re saying���” A beat. “Why would you do this to me?”

“Do what, though?” you whimper. “Everything I wrote about you is based on what you told me!”

“Exactly!” he shouts back, making the distance between you smaller, making you shrink. “I told you! Just you! I never once asked you to air out my business, and quite frankly, I thought that was common sense.” He lets out a dry chuckle. “You called me crazy and troublesome among other things. Are you my girlfriend or wolves in sheep's clothing? I’m trying to understand your logic here.”

You push your hair back, breathing hard. “You can’t just say that, there’s context behind that, come on…”

“Oh. Okay. My bad. I’m crazy because I talk to my father’s tombstone and Jules’. It's troublesome because I used to do cocaine in order to de-stress. I’m in over my head because I actually think I stand a chance against Lewis—a chance you convinced me I had!”

“That’s not what I meant!” you squeak. “You’re taking it all wrong, Charles, I would never say that about you!”

“But you did,” he states firmly. “And you know? If I’m so unready to face a friendly competition against my future teammate, then maybe I’m unready to face a lot of other things, too.” You freeze, dreading his next words as you plead him silently not to say them. “Maybe I’m not as ready to settle down with you as much as I thought I was…”

That does it. That seems to cut the little oxygen you had, off. Stumbling back, you feel the tears start to form again. “You don’t mean that…” You smile weakly. “You’re just a tiny bit upset right now, okay, fine. That’s fine. But you don’t mean any of that.”

Glaring until it hurts, he maintains eye contact. “Don’t tell me what I’m feeling, you don’t get to do that!”

You flinch. “I’m sorry.” A droplet slides down. “I’m sorry, okay?” More follows. “For all of it. For all of this. If I could take it all back, I would, you have to believe me, Charles, you know I would.”

His gaze lingers for a while longer, taking in your rosy nose. Your swollen eyes. Your wet cheeks. Everything that's supposed to make him feel better, but it doesn’t. “I really did trust you…” You breath hitches. “And I really did want you to win…” Pause. “And I still do.”

Strolling over, he disconnects the USB, making the screen go completely black, and hands it to you. Blinking down, you shake your head, too embarrassed to even look at it. “I don’t want it.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want it either…” Forcing your palm open, he places it down, instantly making your skin burn. “Journalist of the Year.”

You let out a wet sob, shoulders shaking. You don’t know exactly what you’re feeling, but what you do know is that this doesn’t feel good and that your heart breaks with every passing second.

Never in a million years did you think you would experience any of this, especially with Charles. The Monegasque cocks his head, curls following. “I’m glad you’re about to get everything you’ve ever wanted, I really am.” He chuckles softly, eyeing you intently. “I just can’t help but wonder what that must feel like.”

“I was going to tell you,” you whisper meekly. “And you were supposed to understand where I was coming from.”

And if any anger was gone, well fuck that, it all came right back.

“Understand where you were coming from?” he spits out, shocked by your choice of words. “You really thought I would understand? I planned my entire future around you, and this is how you repay me? You went behind my back to write an article I didn’t even know about! We made a choice years ago!”

“No, you did!” you retort, despair rising hard and fast. “You came up with that decision all by yourself, Charles, I never agreed!” You look down. “Not entirely.”

“Huh,” he scoffs, squinting his eyes. “I was simply looking out for the girl that I love given that the internet is a scary place and she probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it, for God sakes, I guess this is my fault now, isn’t it?”

“I would have been able to handle it, but you never gave me the chance!”

“Yeah, because reporting on a driver and driver who's your boyfriend are two completely different things that you can’t seem to comprehend!”

Trembling, you blink carefully, gulping. “I would have done just fine.”

“You think so?” he challenges, a sour smile forming. You nod. “Okay. Sure. Why not?” Closing the final distance between you two, your breath gets stuck as he sends a dirty glare, one that's meant to sting. “You’re not talented. You only have your position because of your dating status, when in reality, your work is utter shit. Everything is handed to you.”

There’s a mix of a whimper and a plea that comes out of you as you screw your eyes shut. “You’re being mean, Charles…”

He laughs, clapping his hands once with amusement. “That’s what the internet is! Maybe I was right, then—you can’t handle it.”

“I could…” you murmur, but it's no use. 

The brunette catches himself wanting to comfort you. To apologize for everything. But then he figures—why? It’s not like he truly did something wrong. 

“You’re the greatest disappointment of my life.”

Something ended the moment those words left his mouth—you both knew it. Sobbing hard, your shoulders vibrate violently as you seemingly gasp for air. He looks away. 

“You know, our life could have been so good. So fucking good. But you went and ruined it.” Green eyes flicker back. “Why would you do this to us?”

“I never meant to hurt you,” you declare with wet lashes. 

“You did a bit more than that,” he replies, wincing, blinking rapidly. He smiles. “If you wanted to write your article on me, you should’ve asked me. You should have talked to me. But no. And the thing is, I would have let you! God. I would have let you write whatever you wanted—but not like this. You stole an interview from me with no right, honey…”

Quickly, you flicker your gaze up at him, hoping to see any trace of  love in that one word, but you’re not surprised when you don’t find any, deflating furthermore. He shrugs. Like what you did to him was no big deal. 

“You took it from me. But I would have given it to you.”

-

“Are you sure you want to do this? You can always change your mind, babe, it’s totally fine!”

“No.” You fix your hair, posture straight. You smile. “I need to.”

Lissie shares a slow nod, nibbling on her bottom lip before handing you her keynotes. “Alright. Good luck.”

The idea first sparked when the Brit girl mentioned how she was the only one granted permission to interview Charles at this year's FIA prize giving ceremony. You had debated back and forth with what seemed like forever, both Carly and Lissie trying to talk you out of it, but you pleaded until they reluctantly agreed. 

You haven’t seen him ever since that day.

It’s insane to think about, sometimes. You knew each other for two years, dated for three, and haven’t crossed paths for another two. And now, you’re here. He’d been upfront that day, didn’t even flinch with his one and only birthday wish, meanwhile you felt the last stab hurt more than anything.

I wish to never see you again. 

Not long after, he grabbed his things and left. But not before turning around, sending you one last glance, dull, empty, and nothing like him anymore. You still recall.

Turn it in, he said, smiling warmly despite his better judgment. Despite not meaning it. Don’t let this all be for nothing.

Shaking your hands, you grin, fixing your silk dress. The Brit girl stares worriedly, but as soon as you wink, she hides it. Not that well, but enough. “He’s going to be so mad at me,” she jokes, but it’s probably true. He has a soft spot for her, and he only gave permission to her. No one else. 

You wince, grabbing her hands delicately. “I really appreciate this, Lissie. More than you’ll ever know.”

Waving goodbye, you make your way to the private conference hall. It’s daunting, actually, the sight of the large table where he’ll be sitting and the small chair where you will. Quite the narrative. His picture is hung in almost every corner, from the beginning of his career to now. The latest one makes you smile as he lifts the trophy high up with a beaming grin, dimples poking out and eyes crinkled just the way you remember. 

You thought about apologizing again. Better this time. Once things simmered down. You really wanted to, but as soon as Carly informed you that the article would need to be published in order for fans to engage with your content and for them to decide on a winner, you knew the gist of him accepting your apology was most likely never going to happen. 

And you contemplated not posting it. Carly did too. Lissie did too. No one thought it was a good idea, but you still did it. Like he said—you couldn’t let all that be for nothing.

The hate came immediately, you expected nothing less. In their minds, you were a loyal girlfriend, but after reading your work, the comments came rolling in. You were honestly quite grateful because you know you deserved every last bit of it. 

But somehow—somehow—you won Journalist of the Year. 

You were shocked to say the least—bewildered. And you could see it in Lissie and Carly’s eyes too. So, while accepting the award with a forced smile, it hit you like a truck.

Did you truly earn this or was it all thanks to him?

Either way, does it matter anymore?

The door gently opens as he steps in, a loopy smile stretched onto his lips before coming to a complete stop. With your heart in your throat, you cough awkwardly, standing up and waving. You cringe, putting your hand down as soon as he furrows his brows, looking around. 

“S-she’s not here,” you say, voice cracking. You blush. “You’re looking for Lissie, right?” Utter silence. He blinks, unresponsive and as stiff as a tree. You lick your lips. “I-I-I can leave if you want.” But you really hope he doesn’t want you to.

The Monegasque’s features strike with something familiar—something you knew not long ago. Then…

He smiles at you. 

“It’s alright.” Carefully, he makes his way closer, scooting his chair right next to yours as you blink, sitting back down and staring with your plump lips slightly open. He cocks his head. “Y-you look the same.”

You giggle. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?” When he fails to answer, you bite down on your lip hesitantly. “You haven’t changed much, either.” 

He clears his throat, averting his gaze. “I don’t mean to sound rude or anything, but why are you here and where is Lissie?”

You flinch. Okay. This was expected. You practiced hours for this very moment. “Don’t be mad at her, okay, I asked her to let me do this. I wanted to…see you, Charles.” The sound of his name leaving your lips makes his heart stop because it's been so long since he’s heard it. Too long. A subtle blush. “I’m here to apologize.”

“Ah,” he winces, scrunching his nose. “Don’t. We’re cool.”

“Are we, though?”

He stiffens. 

Exhaling, you place your things down, pursing your lips. He watches the way your knee bounces up and down. How you play with your ring before covering it neatly with the opposite hand. That catches him completely off guard as he blinks rapidly, thinking he must be mistaken. 

“I know I don’t deserve any of this,” you say nervously. “By all means, I should have been kicked out five minutes ago, but you…” Round eyes soften, lashes batting slowly. “You’ve always been a kind and generous human being, Charles.”

“Stop,” he whispers. You frown. “Saying my name, I mean. You can talk—we can talk, but please, just. Don’t say it.”

“O-okay,” you mumble, stomach churning. “I won’t.”

He lets out a tight smile, tilting his head. Years ago, his hair was a tad bit longer, fluffier even. Now, it’s still the same, but somehow more mature. His eyes are still young and naive, but with a hint of wisdom. He usually would wear mismatching suits, but now it matches. A lot of him has changed, and you weren’t there to witness it.

“Congrats, by the way,” you add happily. “World Champion, eh?”

Pink spreads across his cheeks, slowly but surely. “Thanks. I was close to losing my mind.”

You laugh. “Seven years later, but it’s well deserved. I’m so proud of you.”

And for a moment, he goes completely numb. He’s heard plenty of kudos ever since winning his first title—and they were nice, they made him feel nice—but this. You? It’s the first time it makes him feel accomplished. And that feels more than nice.

Playing with his bracelet, he nods sheepishly. “How have you—how, um…God. I, um, how have you been?”

“Oh.” You let out a genuine smile. Soft. Angelic. And everything he wishes to find in any other girl that isn’t you. It’s not something he should notice. “I’ve been well.” You raise your hand. “Engaged.”

“You sure are,” he mumbles, finally acknowledging the silver band before flashing an easy smile of his own. And maybe it was real, or maybe it wasn’t, but he wasn’t as upset as he thought he’d be. Just a tiny bit bothered, is all. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

You lick your lips awkwardly. “You remember Carly’s son?”

A tide hits him as he internally screams. “Grayson, right?”

You nod. “She, uh, set us up a while ago and we hit it off.” You wince. “I’m sorry, is that weird?”

“No. Of course not,” he replies, shrugging. “You’re allowed to build your life with whomever you want. What happened between us was…” He chuckles. “So long ago. I’m happy for you both, I really am.”

And he means it this time.

Admiring the oval-shaped ring, you swoon as if you’re thinking of the exact moment he proposed to you, and that’s the prettiest sight Charles thinks he might ever see. Even if it didn’t end up being him. Once you look back up, he looks away, feigning interest in anything else stupidly.

“Yourself?”

“Myself?”

A playful eye roll. “Are you seeing anyone?”

A retch. “Ha ha, no! No, that’s not—that’s not for me.” You frown. He winces. “Please don’t be offended, but after you, I sort of lost interest in meeting other people. Pierre calls it trauma, I call it precaution.” A sore laugh. “B-but maybe one day. Never say never, am I right?”

The lights reflect directly towards you, so that lets him see the rosy blotches beginning to hug your cheekbones as your lips wobble. He panics. “N-no! Fuck. I didn’t mean to—”

“I ruined your life,” you wail, throwing your hands over your face. “Oh my God, I wrecked it!”

“You didn’t!” he tries. “I’ve gone on a couple of dates, here and there!”

You’re tiny cries take a quick pause. Sniffling, you shoot him a look, shiny eyes beaming back at him. “You have?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, slowly relaxing against his seat. “Sort of. Kind of.” A horrified expression maps out against your face. He grimaces. “I-It’s just not my thing!”

“I’m sorry, Ch—” You pause, rethinking your words. “I’m sorry.”

The Monegasque shrugs, hoping that’d be enough for you to drop the topic. “It’s okay, really. It’s a decision I made long ago, and I’d like to keep it like that for a while, at least.” You bite down on your bottom lip, nodding halfheartedly. “But please, um, tell me, how far along are you? Heard from Lissie that it’s a boy.”

You let out a wet giggle, wiping your tears away to the best of your ability. “Nineteen weeks. I’m in my second trimester.” Gingerly, you rub your tiny belly before your eyes light up. “Give me your hand!”

“What?”

Leaning in, you grab his large hand and place it down on your stomach, looking up at him to watch his reaction. At first, he’s weirded out, you can tell. He makes a silly face he probably doesn’t realize he’s making, but seconds later his features soften. His green eyes go round, no tension behind them. His brows lay flat, then knit together in amazement. He laughs, rubbing his thumb gently.

“Does it hurt?” he whispers. “When he kicks?”

You hum. “Sometimes it can. But I suppose it’s more discomfort than anything.” You wiggle your eyebrows. “Cool?”

He nods rapidly. “Super cool.”

Pulling away, he can feel his adrenaline as high as a kite, and as fast as his car. He feels different, he notes, as if something has finally shifted inside of him. With this, he takes time to admire you in a way he hasn’t been able to ever since.

Your hair is cut into layers now, glossy and shorter than he remembers. Your lips, round, plump and berry tinted. Your eyes, doe, innocent, and pure in a way he can’t seem to wrap his head around. Smile, even, wobbly, and everything in between.

Your gaze flickers. “Question…”

“Answer,” he replies, studying your body language. 

It’s harder than you had initially thought it would be, asking him what you’d been wondering for these past two years. Was it all that bad? The answer might be yes. Yes, it was. To him, perhaps. But it tugs your tongue, and it burns a bit, but you push through, focusing on him and his watercolor eyes.

“Do you—”

But he still knows you. He can still read you. Before you, it’s always him who understands your train of thought. 

He shakes his head, dimples imprinting like a finger in sand. “No regrets.” 

A peach seed forms as you let out a sheepish laugh. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in life,” you admit, cringing slightly. “Just yesterday, I bought the wrong plane ticket. Got stuck in the airport for three extra hours.” He chuckles. “Totally unnecessary.”

“It happens,” he comforts you, clicking his tongue. 

“I guess so,” you say, sighing. “But betraying someone you love? Yeah. That’s got to be the worst mistake of my life.”

He flinches, an old wound suddenly opening. “Hey, you—”

You raise your hand, pleading with him. “Let me just…” So, he forces himself to sit there quietly, to not intrude no matter how much he really wants to. It’s fine, he wants to say, I’m fine now, we’re fine now, seriously.

A wince. “Do you know how guilty I feel whenever Grayson polishes my award?” A scoff. “He means no harm with his actions, but it makes me feel like shit everytime I walk past it. I’ve begged him to put it away somewhere in the attic, but he’s as proud as can be. Say’s an accomplishment like that deserves to be shown off. That it’s proof of all my hard work.” You smile. “Much like you and your trophy.”

You exhale. “You were right, though.” A hum. “I don’t deserve it.”

“I never said that.”

“Sure,” you give in quietly. “But you did say that if I won, I’d always wonder if I was truly respected for my work or if I was respected because of you.”

He bites his tongue. 

You shrug lamely. “And that’s just something I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life…” Steadily, you ease your eyes back towards him as you find him already staring at you, listening close and curious. “And I want you to know that I’m fine with that.” A beat. “What I’m not fine with is you being mad at me for the rest of your life.”

Charles opens his mouth, feeling his tongue as dry as the desert and his throat as dusty as the highest mountain. “I’m not mad at you…anymore.” He sits up straighter. “I said a lot of things to you that night that I shouldn’t have said, but you have to understand that you hurt me a thousand times worse.” 

Tears well up your eyes as you nod shamefully. He continues despite feeling the need to reach out for you. “I just wanted you to feel what I was feeling, even if that meant—well. You know. And, um…I tried to forget all of that, but I, too, felt guilty, so—I’m glad you’re here. That way I can say…I’m sorry.”

“No!” you wail, raising your arms up. “No, I’m sorry! I broke your trust, and I was a God awful girlfriend.”

“You did,” he chuckles before scrunching his nose in deep thought. “But you were also the best I’ll ever have.”

A wet sob escapes.

“I forgive you.”

“S-shit,” you let out. “You don’t know how g-good it feels to finally hear you say that.”

A gentle smile. “You?”

You giggle, standing up. “I have nothing to forgive you for, but yeah. Okay. I forgive you, as well.” You open your arms for a hug. He blinks. “It’ll make me feel better.”

Tsk. “You used to do this all the time wherever we fought,” he says, a hint of sadness wavering in his eyes before disappearing into thin air. Extending to his full height, he towers over you before going in to close the distance. He halts, coughing awkwardly.

You snicker, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Right. You're hugging two of us now.”

A wave of jealousy pangs his chest for a second. You’ve moved on, and he’s stuck in the year you were still in his life. Still his. He envies Grayson in every sense there exists, but he swallows down that pill because he’d always been a nice bloke the very few times he interacted with him. He needs to move on, too. 

Even if it takes him his whole life to figure out how. 

“The more the merrier.”

Your face has gone completely numb by now from how hard you're grinning from ear to ear. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he goes over your shoulders, you sigh contently as you catch the whiff of his cologne. His heartbeat quickened at the smell of your perfume. 

“Question,” he whispered. You chuckle against his chest. Answer. He gulps, nose twitching. “Would it make me a bad person to say that you’re probably the only girl I’ll ever love?” Silence. He screws his eyes shut, gritting his teeth. Why the fuck would he ever say that—

“I’d only say that I don’t deserve to be her,” you respond. “Anyone but me.”

A flinch. “O-of course. You’re getting married, you’re having a baby, what was I th—”

“Honey…”

He freezes. 

You lean back, holding his face between your hands and smiling. “It’s not your name…”

His voice catches. “It’s not…”

A deeper smile. Nostalgic. “A piece of me will always love you.” A pause. “You know me so well. Better than anyone. You’ve seen me naked. You’ve dressed me. You’ve seen me with makeup. You’ve seen me without. And…well—you’ve seen my good side. But you’re also the only one who's seen my bad.”

His palms quickly get sweaty as he tries his best to not do anything he might regret. And not because he’ll wish to take it back, but because you would. Neat brows draw in together as you graze his stubble with your thumb. As nurturing as a mother, which he supposes you already are. 

“I’d say that makes us pretty close, no?”

“Not as close as I’d like to be.” 

“You’ll find someone.” A beat. “Someone who’ll love you right.”

“You didn’t?” he questions before he can stop himself. “Sorry—”

“My love for you was honest. But I blew it.”

I’m still here, he wants to yell out. If you still want me like I want you, then I’m still here.

But he refrains from doing so.

“You’ve never done me wrong,” he attempts, kissing your palm gingerly before softening his gaze. You send a playful glare. “Except for that one time.” You snort. “But I don’t want to talk about it anymore because—because it doesn’t matter anymore…”

Maybe it's the hormones, you sort of wish it was, but you know it’s due to his gentleness. You don’t deserve his sympathy, you don’t deserve even a fraction of it. Crying, you kiss his cheek, hoping everything you feel transfers itself into the warmth of his skin. And you don’t know, but it does just that.

Closing his eyes, he prays to dream about this kiss forever. Have nightmares, who even cares. As long as he doesn’t forget. 

You step away carefully, taking him in as his eyes flutter. 

“Charles Leclerc, first time World Champion…”

He smiles. You smile. 

His dimples pop out. Your eyes crinkle.

He loves you. You love him.

And maybe it didn’t work out in this life.

But maybe in the next.

“May I have an interview with you?”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna @emmaxdelicate

[unintentionalseductress]

hello!! i really enjoy ur fics, u write the lads and jjk men so well <3 i'd love to request sylus (or zayne if there's an abundance of sylus reqs) with prompt 4 or 17 (whichever suits ur fancy)

apologies for being indecisive 😓💗 thank u and have a wonderful day!

Hello there! Aw, I'm flattered you think so, I try to keep the content accurate to their personality. Went with Zayne for this one and #4 aka clit spanking. Thank you for sending in this request! PS, I'm going through a professor phase again, so that's where this is coming from.

Clit Spanking

--------

You whine as you lay back on Professor Zayne's desk, legs spread apart, you skirt hiked up around your waist. Your panties has bee slipped off and were now being held captive in his blazer pocket. You'd been failing his anatomy class when he'd offered you some lessons. Except this was a much more hands on approach than you'd expected.

You shiver as you feel the edge of the riding crop stroke teasingly up your thigh before it settles on the tatch of hair on your mound. "What is this called?" he asks as your brain struggles to remember.

"M...mons...pubis." You stutter embarassedly.

"Good girl. And this?" The riding crop moves down to the side, tracing the fleshy lip near your thigh.

"Um...La...labia?" you ask, feeling your face flush, knowing your pussy was wet and probably clenching under his gaze.

"Good. That's an improvement. Now...what about this?" The riding crops dips downward and lightly caresses your entrance and you gasp, twitching. "Well?" his voice asks commandingly.

"Um..." You rack your brain, then whimper. "Vulva?"

"Wrong." You squeal as the riding crop is smacked onto your clit, the sudden sting of pain adding to your arousal and humiliation. He strikes it again, the resounding noise of the riding crop smacking your wet skin filling the classroom. You wriggle, trying to soften the blows but he spreads your lips apart and repeatedly brings down the leather until your clit throbs from need.

When he finally decides enough is enough, he supplies you the right answer. "It's the vagina. The vulva is a collective term. But this hole right here-" he suddenly pushes a finger into you and you cry out at the instrusion. "-Is the vagina." He withdraws his fingers and licks them clean before continuing.

"Now, what is this?" The riding crop traces your clit and your breath strangles in your throat. "Don't know the answer?" He hums as he runs the riding crop over the sensitive little nub. "This is something you should be very familiar with."

"Cli...Cli..." You can barely form the words from hear of being slapped again, but also from how turned on you were. "Clit."

The riding crop strikes your clit, but in a much softer manner than before and you squirm. "Close. But let's not use slang hmm?" Zayne watches you with a feral look in his eyes. "What's the full name?"

"Clitoris."

"There we go. See I knew you had the brains. That you weren't just some dumb whore." The riding crop strokes your clit and your hips refelexively move against the movement. Zayne chuckles darkly at the motion. "But right now, you're not a smart whore. You're not even a dumb whore. You're a needy whore."

He issues a series of light slaps on your clit that have you mewling and crawling further up his desk on your back. He steadies you and gives a painful slap as punishment. You cry out, feeling your clit tingle.

"Stop trying to escape. I'm trying to help you. Do you want to cum or not?" You glance up at him and nod.

"Than stop resisting. There is no reward without punishment." He pushes two fingers inside you again, playing into the patch of sensitive, spongy, tissue and all you can do is gasp wantonly. As he does so, he repeatedly brings the riding crop down over your swollen clit and you cry and whimper helplessly, all the while feeling pleasure and heat gather inside you.

"That's it. I bet you'll never forget your anatomy ever again hmm?" His amber eyes bore down into yours as you struggle underneath them, then with a jolt, you feel your orgasm rip through you, causing you sob as the gratifying waves ripple through you, causing your cunt to spasm.

Zayne watches with satisfaction before he gestures to the hard outline of cock visible through his pants.

"How familiar are you with male anatomy?"

You shake your head naively, trying not to smile mischieviously.

"Well then. Guess I'd better give you another lesson."

[doomedmoth]

War is Over

Pairing : Reader x Daniel Ricciardo x Max Verstappen | Poly fem!reader

Warnings : use of y/n, smau, polyamory, queer drivers, reader is around 30

Synopsis : You’re just a mechanic at RedBull, not much more to say. Nothing in your contract says you can’t be friends with drivers, right ? The little lines very clearly says you’re not allowed to show it all though. When your chosen “family” fails you, all you can do is hope your loved ones save themselves too.

Moth’s prophecy💡: Hi cryptids, honestly I have no excuses to give, sorry for the randomness of it all, I just needed to get this out to process with the pain of loosing Daniel. I can only hope he finds happiness away from the shit show that RedBull is becoming. Probably going back to hibernation, see ya !

[Messages] Dumber has sent you a text

*****

[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername : How it started / how it’s going (swipe for my face when I’m not covered in grease). Hello to everyone new here, I’m Y/N, Chief Engine Power Conformity Mechanician at redbullracing ! Based in the never-sunny town of Milton Keynes, but you might see me around the paddock at most races to make sure no one explodes ✌🏻

Liked by redbullracing, F1mech and others

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F1mech little miss mini boss 🫡

yourusername be glad to have me around to do the dirty work

F1mech Yes ma’am very grateful ma’am 🫡

redbullracing Your work is so crucial and we are happy the world gets to know you more !

redbullracing Also it was sunny last we came to MK ???

yourusername nobody tell admin we take out the fake blue sky windows when he comes by

user1 lmao I live in Milton Keynes and can attest we haven’t seen the sun in weeeeks

user2 never wanted to be a redbull neon sign so bad

user3 I can see why they hide her in the shithole that is Milton Keynes, the whole paddock would go crazy over her

user4 she would make such a cute wag omg !!

user5 bet every girlie is on their man’s back whenever she’s around

user6 she works for RB soooo… d’you think her and checo…? 😳

user7 she already has someone guys !! Though we have never seen his face, but I think she’s more interested in the cars than the ones inside them

user6 checo is married and still it doesn’t stop him lmao

user8 are you part of the pit crew ?? Never seen you before ! /g

yourusername I’m not !! I mainly work on the cars before and after the races and practices to make sure everything is in place, not faulty, and compliant to both Redbull’s and the FIA’s standards of security 🤗 but 60/70% of my work is at the factory, and the paddock parts happens behind close doors, so no worries

maxverstappen1 she makes sure nobody dies

yourusername and god knows y’all make it hard sometimes

danielricciardo yeah this second pic is so much better

yourusername oh don’t start me boy

danielricciardo hihihi 🤭

user9 hello Daniel ???

user10 How can I work at Redbull too pls I beg you I’ll even make coffee and mop the floors

yourusername check our offers on the website honey !! Most jobs require some experience or diploma but we also offer internships and graduate programs if you want to make your way in

user10 thank u 🥹

user10 that’s how you got in ?

yourusername nope, I’ve worked on cars forever and in motorsports for years before getting to F1, but we have plenty of opportunities in non-technical fields too!

user11 pretty, kind, works in f1, not single, lemme just Google how to be like you

user12 you okay dude ? Throat not hurting too much from gagging on her dick

user13 lmaoooo yeah seeing her looks that’s probably a daddy’s girl who got put in exec and pretends to know what she’s talking about

user14 wouldn’t be shocked if her “work behind closed doors” is ordering actual mechs around like minions

danielricciardo is your little ego so hurt by the fact that you’ll never be talented enough to get to her place that you’ve resorted to running your shitty mouth online ? Breath getting stinky mate, careful 🤢

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yourusername : Everything’s twice as fun with you

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user15 lover boy lover boy lover boy !

user16 I’m more excited for the face reveal than for my best friend’s wedding

user17 pls get checked wtf

user18 wait isn’t he blonde ? who’s the dark haired one in some pics ? With tattoos ?

user19 you might be new but Y/N always post pics of lover boy randomly, so some pics are old, and he often dyes his hair !

user18 wow damn I need his hairdresser coz this is cleaaaaan

yourbff don’t tell me you let him touch your car

yourusername lmaooo never 💀 tried to teach him to change some parts on his

yourbff and…?

yourusername ended up doing it…

yourbff at least he’s cute !!

yourusername Hey ! That must counts for something !

user20 not them bullying him coz he either doesn’t have socials or is not allowed to answer

yourbff what ? us ?

yourusername Never 😇

user21 oh damn she bagged herself a hottie

user22 HE bagged himself a hottie have you seen her ??

user23 couple goals and we ain’t ever seen his face like

user24 ain’t no need for a face with a body like this

user25 kinda looks like Max on the 6th slide no ??

user26 lmao as if

user27 the man can bag any celebrity doubt he cares for a factory girl

user28 the pic with the RB can lol

yourusername trained him well 😇

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[Messages] Dumb has sent you a text

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user29 replied to the story :

oh yeah I keep forgetting y’all old money rich rich

user30 replied to the story :

so we all forgetting about Horner’s accusation ?? Truly just RB’s bitch in the end

user31 replied to the story :

Is that y/n ?? Didn’t know the mechs were invited to those events

danielricciardo replied to the story :

man I do take amazing pics when the models look so good

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yourusername : vitamin sea 🌊⛱️🐚 Australia, you never disappoint

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oscarpiastri wish we could have hung out more 🥺

yourusername we hung out at your house bby!!

user32 BBY ?? SOMEONE CALL LILY COZ THIS BITCH IS OVERSTEPPING

oscarpiastri we didn’t hang out you repaired my mom’s car while Lily and I were drinking WARM BEERS ON THE FLOOR

yourusername SORRY YOU CAN’T APPRECIATE MY CRAFT LIKE YOUR MOTHER DOES also hi to lils 💕🌸🎀

oscarpiastri DON’T BRING MY MOM INTO THIS she said she misses u 🤗💕✨

user32 oh

yourusername yeah

oscarpiastri yeah

nicolepiastri yeah

yourbff you need to turn off work like for reeeaaaal

yourusername how can I when those two are literally glued to my hip

danielricciardo shocked sad disappointed

maxverstappen1 Lover boy will hear about this

yourusername Are those threats ? Remember I literally have power over your life

danielricciardo not mine anymore lol Lover boy WILL HEAR about this

user33 oh so that definitely erases the possibility of Max or Daniel being Lover Boy

user34 as if there had ever been any evidence of that

user35 Lover boy in the Redbull cap ??

yourusername Yep ! Max gave it to him

user35 daaaaamn he is ripped

yourusername hihi 🤭

user36 no one questioning why the fuck is a mechanician hanging so much with drivers ??

user37 *chief mechanician

F1mech oh shit buddy thank you, we weren’t aware we couldn’t be friends with people we spend more than half of the year on the road with

maxverstappen1 cancel your ticket rn mate, you can’t vacation with us

F1mech come on user36, see what you’ve done ?? Maybe if you hadn’t questioned it I could have gone, fucker

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user38 has replied to your story :

Not you posting this straight after the checo announcement 💀

yourbff has replied to your story :

just saw the news, is Danny ok ?? Pls call me

maxverstappen1 has replied to your story :

Booked you a table at San Marco at 8, sorry I can’t be there tonight…

it’s okay, I know how it is, I just don’t want him to be alone… thx for the restaurant 💕

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

user39 has replied to your story :

omg same

user40 has replied to your story :

IS THAT DANIEL ???

user41 has replied to your story :

the tattoos ??? girl we knoooow

redbullracing has replied to your story :

y/n ?

yup yup yup sorry

This story has been deleted.

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user41 has replied to your story :

lmao miss thing is piiiissed

yukitsunoda0511 has replied to your story :

i can’t find my controller d’you have one more ? 🥺

yes bby just come before your food gets cold

user42 has replied to your story :

She supports Max’s rights but mostly Max’s wrongs

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user43 has replied to your story :

preeeaach 🙌🏻

user44 has replied to your story :

all redbull employees protesting the FIA has me going !! Tell Horner to open his mouth too for once

danielricciardo has replied to your story :

I want this pic as my new lockscreen

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[Twitter] danyfanclub just posted

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[Instagram] danielricciardo just posted a photo

danielricciardo : l've loved this sport my whole life. It's wild and wonderful and been a journey. To the teams and individuals that have played their part, thank you. To the fans who love the sport sometimes more than me haha thank you. It'll always have its highs and lows but it's been fun and truth be told I wouldn't change it.

Until the next adventure.

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redbullracing 🫶🏻

user45 SHUT UP

user46 the audacity

user47 you promised you would treat him better !!

user48 Daniel > Perez

user49 DTS fan

lewishamilton legend 🫂

user50 game recognize game

user51 tell Mercedes to give him a seat

maxverstappen1 Head up ! Many more beautiful moments to come, somewhere you’ll be recognized and appreciated 💪🏻 our time together isn’t over, but I’m glad for all the racing, the laughs, the nights, for you ❤️

user52 wow hm Max no need to make all of us cry

user53 I feel like I’ve just walked in on something very personal…

user54 maxiel 😭😭😭

user55 he was the best mate you ever had, never should have left RedBull

yourusername Working with you was an honor, but getting to know and appreciate you made my whole life brighter, and I can’t thank you enough for this 🌞 no contracts can bring us apart, see you around honey bee 💛

user56 the little dig at RB’s contracts lmao

user57 why does honey bee feel much more intimate than honey badger ??

user58 we haven’t seen this level of emotion for De Vries, yet you were already working for the “RedBull family” if I’m not mistaken ??

user59 maybe because no one gives two shits about De Vries ??

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yourusername : Well, there it is. After 15 years of working on cars, the last 10 in motorsports, last five in Formula 1, it’s time for me to take a break. It was just perfect to finish it off in my hometown Austin, and I’m so grateful to my friends and family who made the trip to celebrate together. I remember my first week at Milton Keynes, my whole life in a suitcase. Abu Dhabi 2021, and those stories we’ll keep for our old days. I was so proud to be part of this, the champagne, the fireworks, the love. The day Daniel came back to us. The people I’ve met, the opportunities I’ve had, none would have been possible without you, ‘Bull. It’s been oh so amazing, but oh so tiring. I’ve reached a point in my life where I need my environment to be aligned with what I want, my values and the people I love and care for. So it’s goodbye.

F1, thank you for everything. I’ll miss you, but I gotta go. ����

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F1mech I solemnly swear to not make anything explode, to always triple check my laces, to never pick Yoshi in Mario Kart because it’s yours, and to forever keep you close to my heart. Thx mini boss, you were amazing 🫡

yourusername Thanks Callum, you’re gonna make me cry now…

user60 US TOO 😭

user61 naaaaah another one leaving RedBull, shit is really going down

user62 where do you think she’s going ? Aston ?

user63 or Ferrari

yourusername Sorry to disappoint but neither ! It’s really a full break, for a while at least, I need to get my head out of the oil and machinery

user64 leaving England then ?? What about lover boy ??

yourusername Lover boy was never British eheh, who told you that ? 🤭

user65 if Lover boy is confirmed to be Daniel I’ll loose my shit

user66 I will always root for Max though…

user67 he has tattoos omg it’s never been Max !!

redbullracing Now it’s pretty sure MK will never see the sun again with you gone 😭

user68 we still hate you

user69 fuck off

yukitsunoda0511 🥺🫶🏻

yourusername 😚🫴🏻💕

yourbff it’ll be hard, but it’ll be good

yourusername thankfully i won’t be alone

yourbff not long to wait

yourusername yeah, soon soon

user70 ???

user71 I have a headache just thinking about everything the soon soon could be about

user72 really doubt Max is staying much longer in RedBull seeing how many engineers are quitting

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user73 has replied to your story :

no yeah we get it this looks much better than the factory lmao

user74 has replied to your story :

Honey bee ?? I’ve heard that one before

oscarpiastri has replied to your story :

Mom said you haven’t gone to see her yet ! Meanie !

user75 has replied to your story :

crazy how Max starts winning again since you’re gone

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F1 : BREAKING : Max Verstappen has announced his retirement after winning his 4th World’s Drivers Championship.

Record breaker.

Late braker.

Legend.

#ThankYouMax

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user76 WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

user77 when I tell you I fell to my knees

user78 screaming crying throwing up

user79 I refuse to believe this is true

user80 what the hell was this season

user81 DTS is gonna have a field day with this one

user80 doubt 10 episodes are gonna be enough

redbullracing There aren’t enough words to describe the impact you’ve had on our history, Max. You’ll forever be a pillar of the RedBull family, and an icon of the sport. Tudududu 🧡

lewishamilton Thank you for the challenges, you’ve always pushed us to go harder. Never thought I would have to see you leave, but we’ll keep your legacy running 👑

user82 Alonso when ???

user83 Who’s gonna take his seat ? Honey badger comeback ?

user84 doubt it, he said in the only interview he gave that he had some friends to go see a few continents away, bet he was talking bout Danny

user85 April Fools ?

user86 In December ??

user87 I really don’t understand why, everything was going much better with the car lately

user88 I think he’s just done with the sport, he said multiple time he wouldn’t force it if he didn’t feel like it anymore

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user89 has replied to your story :

wait, if that’s lover boy, who’s the guy you were with lately ??

user90 has replied to your story :

Sydney airport !!

user91 has replied to your story :

OMG I KNEW I SAW MAX IN SYDNEY THIS MORNING WTF I RECOGNIZE HIM

yourbff has replied to your story :

you did it bby, it’s time to rest now

ily, we will 💕

user92 has replied to your story :

The timing with Max quitting RB is so odd I’m seriously questioning my sanity rn

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yourusername, danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 : War is Over.

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danielricciardo : From sneaking out of restaurants to barricading the doors of our shared hotel rooms, I wish I could have told the world earlier how much I love you. But I’m glad I can now. There’s something magical about finding the one, so when you find the two, you’ll make any radical change necessary to protect them. Think you were right Maxie, the farm life does suit us.

This was the Honey Badger, peace ✌🏻

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maxverstappen1 : Turning off comments coz those two are mine and you can only admire them from afar. I know they’re pretty. They’re mine. And I’ll say it as many times as I want now. Mine mine mine mine mine

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yourusername : Oh, I’m sorry, did I say Lover Boy ? I meant Boys 🤭

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user93 WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

user94 mother is finally letting us out of the cage and none of us can take it

user95 the first pic

user96 I could die

user97 who the fuck even took it

user98 she said “y’all won’t let me post their faces ? I’ll give you the whole sextape”

user99 I knew it I fucking knew it Maxiel nation we won

oscarpiastri so happy for you guys, go be free with the little goats 🥹

yourusername pls try to survive

maxverstappen1 and if RB tries to buy you RUN BACK HOME

user100 oh shit it’s time for no filter Max era

yourusername you’ve had a taste this year, be prepared for the real deal

yukitsunoda0511 finally i can stop pretending to not speak English when asked about you

danielricciardo you were pretending very well if I may say

yukitsunoda0511 thanks !

user101 oh yuki sweet summer child…

user102 don’t tell me in Japan already ??

yourusername you really took a good look at this pic and thought “yeah, those two are straight” ? It’s a you issue honestly

user102 yeah okay fair

user103 7th pic ???

maxverstappen1 Abu Dhabi ‘21

maxverstappen1 tasted better than champagne tbh

user104 oh so y’all are just leaking EVERYTHING now, no fucks given

danielricciardo I had to pay a lot for those pics to not get out back then so yeah kinda

danielricciardo which is a shame when we look so good

user105 sooooo… about the high performance athlete….?

maxverstappen1 yes.

yourusername yes.

danielricciardo 💕

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[Twitter] danyfanclub just posted

[rowarn]

THEE DEARLY WED !

kyle 'gaz' garrick/reader | MDNI

tags: noble!reader, noble!kyle, arranged marriage (not to each other), forbidden love

cw: technically infidelity (kyle and reader cheat with each other despite both being engaged), loss of virginity, cunnilingus, wet and messy, body worship elements, consent, soft!kyle, piv, soft sex, simultaneous orgasms

a/n: thank u to everyone in the silly discord server for helping me decide on this one LMAOOOO i never woulda done it without you. also!!! don't expect any kind of accuracy on this, it is merely a work of fiction!

; it was decided when you were young that you would get married to someone you didn't even love. your heart belonged to the electrifying Lord Kyle Garrick despite him being in the same boat as you.

8.1k words

From the time you were a child, you had been fated to marry someone chosen by your parents. It was a silly, annoying custom among nobility and one you simply didn’t get a choice on. He was decided for you the moment you were born.

It’s all you’ve ever known. Your betrothed, Owen Knightly, was someone of high standing. It would be remarkably good for your family to marry into his. 

You may have even been content with the life you were given if he had never come into your life. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if you weren’t in love with someone you simply couldn’t have. 

You met when you were children. You were barely five years old and he was a few years older than you. It was one of your fondest memories, one that always brings a smile to your face when you reminisce.

“This is Lord Kyle Garrick,” your mother had crooned as she introduced you to the young boy who knelt upon one knee and gingerly kissed your hand. It was a sweet, innocent display of affection that had you swooning right then and there.

Your families ran in the same circles, the Garricks were on equal social standing as your own family. Every party and gala that the two of you were invited to, you managed to gravitate towards each other. Both of you knew how wrong it was – how it would ruin both yours and your families lives if you stepped one foot out of line. But the draw between you two was undeniable. You could see it in his eyes when he stared at you from across ballrooms, the longing that you experienced just the same.

Fate was incredibly cruel and fickle. You watched as Kyle grew to be a handsome man, desired by aristocratic families from all over the country. He was handsome, well bred, and so kind. You’d have to be blind to not see how incredible of a man he was.

Anyone would be lucky to be his betrothed. 

You just wish it was you.

Unfortunately, the lucky person he was engaged to was chosen for him from the time of his own birth, someone whose status would benefit his family. The two of you were never fated to be together. It was a painful, irrefutable fact.

Still, that didn’t stop the two of you from making eyes at one another every time you saw each other at aristocratic gatherings. 

He was the only thing that made a long, boring gathering interesting. Every time you received an invitation to a gala or a ball, you felt the excitement of being able to see him again.

Even if you were with your own fiance and he was with his.

“Good evening, Your Grace,” Kyle greeted, bowing down to place a kiss to the top of your hand. 

“Hello to you, My Lord,” you smile, meeting his gaze for an electrifying moment. 

The two of you break eye contact quickly, all too worried about raising suspicion. 

Your gaze met his fiance’s who stood off to the side, nursing a glass of wine. She seemed completely disinterested in the conversation going on, instead glancing around the room. 

“Our wedding is coming up awfully fast,” your fiance mused, placing his arm around your shoulders affectionately, “Isn’t that right, darling?”

It made your skin crawl but you mustered up a proper, practiced smile to shoot him, “Yes, it’s just a few weeks away. Oh, My Lord, you’ll surely be attending, correct?”

“Oh come now,” your fiance chided, “Lord Garrick is surely preparing for his own upcoming wedding. He’ll be much too busy to attend ours. What a silly question for you to ask.”

“Nonsense,” Kyle smiled, a sight that made your heart race despite the irritation you feel towards your fiance’s condescension. His dark eyes flitted to you, dropping to your lips before meeting your husband’s gaze again, “I wouldn’t miss such a blessed union.”

“You flatter us, My Lord,” you breathe, biting your lip. Hearing the man you love praise your upcoming wedding, even if it was a charade he put on, made your heart ache terribly in your chest.

“My love,” Kyle’s fiance wraps her arm around his arm, making your heart seize up in jealousy.

Kyle barely glances at her, instead keeping those deep brown eyes on your, “Yes?”

“Can we dance?” she asks, pointing in the direction of all the couples currently dancing in the center of the room.

“Of course,” he agrees easily, bowing gracefully at you and your fiance, “Please excuse us.”

“I say we should have a dance as well,” your fiance says, taking your hand, without even bothering to see if you wanted to in his, to lead you to the group of dancing people. 

You fight back a sigh as he pulls your close against him, your chest pressed against his. One of his arms wraps around your waist, holding your other hand in the air while you rest your free hand on his shoulder. It was a practiced pose you’d learned all your life but it still made you want to curl your lip in disgust at being so close to this man.

The two of you begin to sway across the dance floor in time to the gentle rhythm of the music playing through the room. You stare over your fiance’s shoulder at all the people scattered around the ballroom. You find this entire endeavor to be rather dull, just high society people sucking up to one another in an endless cycle. 

“Isn’t that right, darling?” your fiance’s voice grates in your ear, drawing you out of your daydreams.

“What?” you ask, meeting his gaze, “I didn’t hear you.”

“You’re so cute,” he gushes, clicking his tongue, “Always zoning out. Don’t need to think about anything when you’ve got your fiance here.”

You bite your tongue, feeling your eyes twitch at his continued condescension, “I was just admiring the beautiful ballroom.”

“Indeed,” he hums as he spins you around the dancefloor, “As I was saying, however, that Lord Garrick is an incredibly refined man, is he not?”

“Of course,” you agree, wishing so badly you could look around the room to find the mentioned man just to catch a glimpse of his handsome face, “His family is held in such high regard, after all. It’s only natural.”

“Indeed,” your fiance agrees, “And his upcoming union will only increase their status.”

There’s a lapse in the conversation as you both continue to dance. The mention of your beloved’s wedding tastes bitter on your tongue, sullying your mood even more. You zone out until the music slowly comes to a stop, slowing your steps to a complete stop.

The music starts up again, another song beginning to play immediately. Your fiance opens his mouth to say something but stops short.

“Excuse me,” a familiar, smooth voice interrupts the two of you.

You turn to see Kyle standing there in all his glory, smiling kindly, “If you would be so kind as to let me have the next dance.”

“I was just about to go get myself some refreshments anyway,” your fiance grunts, passing Kyle your hand. 

He takes it gently, treating you like the finest, most delicate glass. It sends shivers down your spines, just feeling his skin against yours. 

“I thank you,” Kyle bows politely before leading you deeper into the crowd of dancing couples. 

Once hidden away from the prying eyes of your fiance, Kyle tugs you snuggly against him, assuming the same position you had before. His spicy, floral scent invades your senses and makes your eyes flutter at how nice it smells.

“Where did your fiance go?” you find yourself asking, though you don’t particularly care about her whereabouts.

“Not sure,” he responds, “Said she wanted to go talk with some friends.”

“I see,” you hum, eyes drifting to your hand clasped in his. His thumb occasionally strokes over the soft skin atop your hand.

“I’ve been dying to have a single moment alone with you this whole evening,” he confesses, keeping his voice low so no one nearby could hear the adulteress confessions coming from his lips.

“My Lord,” you breathe, your heart picking up as you meet his soft gaze. He looks at you in a way you’ve never seen him look at anyone else and it makes you flustered, “I was so happy to learn that you were also going to be here.”

“As was I,” he agrees, squeezing your hand in his, “I wish so desperately the two of us could slip away unseen.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve found ourselves alone,” you muse, chuckling to yourself.

“There will be a rather gaudy announcement shortly,” he says, “If you can slip away during it, I’m sure that no one will miss either of us so long as we’re back in time for the desert to be served.”

“Where shall we meet?” you ask, all too aware that this song was winding down.

“There’s a balcony overlooking the back gardens,” he says, the two of you slowly coming to a stop.

“I’ll be there,” he smiles at that, carefully dropping your hand to your side despite the fact neither of you want to let go of the other.

You miss his touch as soon as it’s gone but you know that you can’t maintain physical contact with him without gossip and speculation filling the hall. It’s already a dangerous game the both of you play with the way you’ve spent secretive moments alone despite your engagements. You crave so desperately to be able to love him publicly like other couples.

“I know you will,” he bows, kissing the top of your hand before turning on his heel and vanishing into the crowd on the other side of the room. 

You have no choice but to find your fiance afterwards, despite the way dread fills your stomach when you lay your eyes upon him. He’s standing among noblemen, chattering away.

When you come into view he beams, “There is my beloved betrothed,” he says, “Such a sweet little thing, no?”

“Ah yes,” one of the other men hum, looking you up and down in a way that makes you cringe internally, “You are a lucky man, Owen.”

“Aren’t I?” your fiance wraps his arm around your waist, tucking you firmly against him, “Such a lovely doll all for me. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, as expected, but such a pretty face. Anyone would be envious of a man like me in my position with a beautiful fiance on his arm.”

You want so badly to roll your eyes at his insults and pompous attitude. Instead, you tune out the conversation and choose to look out over the party hall where all sorts of people mingle. 

Your gaze finds Kyle from across the room. His fiance is on his arm and that prickly sensation of jealousy fills your chest but quickly vanishes when he looks away from the people he’s talking with to smile at you. 

The melodic sound of a bell ringing across the room gets everyone’s attention. It falls completely silent as the host approaches the top of the stairs, dressed extravagantly to the nines. As she begins to address the crowd, you catch Kyle slipping out.

You turn to your fiance, “I’m afraid I must go to the washroom.”

“Take your time,” he nods, “Do return before the cake is served.”

“Of course,” you smile and carefully follow Kyle’s lead and slip out into a side hall.

The labyrinth of halls were easy to navigate since they were all too similar to your own manor. The music and chatter from the party quickly faded the further into the manor you got until you were finally at the doors leading to the balcony. You push it open, slipping through the opening before letting them softly close behind you.

Kyle stood, leaning against the balcony, staring off into the gardens. He was beautifully illuminated by the full moon and it made you breathless.

He turns to look at you, smiling, “I knew you’d make it.”

“I always do,” you whisper, taking his outstretched hand when he offers it. 

“You look absolutely marvelous,” he breathes, pulling you close to him just like when you were dancing. Only this time, he spins and presses you back against the railing of the balcony. He crowds himself around you, leaning in to brush his lips against yours but not quite sealing you in a kiss. Your breath stutters in your chest, your noses grazing together from the proximity. 

“You look handsome yourself,” you whisper against his lips, “I wished so badly to be the one on your arm this evening.”

“You’re all I’ve thought about this whole time,” he assures, hands gripping your waist, pressing himself even closer to you until his hips meet yours, “Every time I look at her, all I can think about is you. I wish it was you I was marrying.”

“Me too,” you whimper, “Owen is such a pig. All he does is talk down to me. He thinks me nothing but stupid.”

Kyle clicks his tongue, “That idiot has no idea what he has. He has everything that I desire and he doesn’t even know how to appreciate the life handed to him.”

He reaches up and cups your cheeks, hands warm and soft against your skin. He smells so good and the dark look in his eyes, illuminated by the moonlight, makes your heart race. 

He can’t seem to help himself anymore, surging forward to press his lips completely against yours. You gasp into the kiss, winding your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. One of his arms winds around your waist, pulling you up onto your tiptoes so your chest is pressed completely against his. 

“I adore you,” he breathes before kissing you again, unwilling to break the kiss for more than a second as he talks, “I’ve never wanted anyone in my life more than you.”

As you’re hidden away on this balcony, secretly kissing the man you truly love while your betrothed is waiting for you to return back to him just down the hall, you feel tears pricking your eyes. You sniffle and Kyle pulls back, eyes softening at the sight of your tears.

“What is it, my heart?” he asks, thumbing your tears away despite the way more takes their place.

“I love you, Kyle,” you confess. 

“And I love you,” he smiles but it only makes you cry harder.

You pull him snug against you, hugging him as tightly as you can. He hums, winding his own arms around you to return the hug. His large hand rubs your back until you’re left just sniffling and hiccuping.

“I hate this,” you whimper, “I wish I could marry you.”

“I know, my heart,” he sighs, pulling back to cup your cheeks again, “These cards we’ve been dealt in this life are so unfair.”

“How am I supposed to marry that man when you’re all I want?” you ask, taking his hand in yours.

He nods his head, “I feel the same. I know for a fact you’re who I’m meant to be with.”

A silence lulls between the two of you as you both lament the lives you’ve been given. While you both had everything materialistic one could want, neither of you could have what you really, truly desired. 

With you still tucked against him, he whispers in your hair, “We should be getting back before anyone misses us.”

“I don’t want to,” you whine, “I want to stay here with you forever.”

“I know, my heart,” he mutters, “I wish that were possible.”

You sigh and haphazardly straighten your clothes out, “Let’s get the rest of this evening over with.”

“You head in first,” he urges you to the door with a hand on your back, “We don’t want anyone to see us come back together.”

You turn around and lean up, pressing one final, fleeting kiss against his lips before you turn and disappear through the doors. Leaving him behind makes your heart feel like a lead weight in your chest but you push through it and force one foot in front of the other down the winding halls.

You follow the sounds of the party still going, music and bustle of people getting louder and louder the closer you get. Stepping back inside, you notice everyone’s chatting happily and eating cake. Your eyes scan the crowd before falling on your fiance who is still chatting away with the same noblemen as before. You take a sharp breath, steeling yourself as you approach him, plastering a practiced, fake smile on your face.

“Ah, there you are!” he greets with a broad grin, “I’m sorry I didn’t get you a piece of cake. I didn’t quite feel like holding it.”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes and instead shrug your shoulders, “That’s quite okay. I didn’t want any anyway.”

Your fiance nods, “Probably a good idea. Don’t want my betrothed putting on weight before the wedding!”

He and his friends laugh and anger flushes through you. Your jaw hurts from how hard you clench it shut so you don’t snap at your fiance. You catch movement out of the corner of your eye and turn to see Kyle’s fiance rushing up to him. He catches her as she throws herself into his arms and you once again feel the sting of jealousy. 

You avert your gaze and tune in and out of the boring conversation your fiance is engaged in. 

“Say, have you been crying, darling?” he asks, finally taking note of your red-rimmed eyes.

“Oh, no,” you laugh softly, “I’m afraid I’ve been struck down with a nasty case of allergies. All these roses must be emitting some dreary amounts of pollen.”

“Ah,” he nods, taking a bite of his cake as he looks around at the array of roses decorating the ballroom. “That makes sense. They are quite beautiful though. Perhaps we should have some planted once we’re married.”

You plaster on a fake smile again, “Maybe.”

He sends a smile to you in return before turning his attention back to the other men. You promptly tune out and let your eyes glance across the hall, hoping this entire ordeal will be over soon. 

Before long, the party begins winding down and people begin to leave, bidding goodbye to one another.

“Oh, Lord Garrick,” your fiance greets as said man comes up to the two of you.

“Hello,” Kyle smiles, “I just thought I’d come and say goodbye.”

“Oh yes, goodbye, My Lord,” Owen bows.

Kyle turns his gaze to you and lifts your hand to his lips, giving you one last kiss goodbye. You wish so badly you could feel his lips press against yours again but you know that won’t be happening again for a terribly long time.

“I believe the next time we’ll meet will be your upcoming wedding,” Kyle said as he straightened up.

“Most likely,” you nod, “Unless someone plans to have another party again.”

Kyle huffs a laugh, “I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

You smile at the sound of his laugh. His fiance tugs on his arm, bidding both you and Owen goodbye before they’re off.

“I guess we should head off as well,” he says, much to your relief.

Your bed sounds absolutely heavenly right about now. And you, quite honestly, just want to get away from your pig of a fiance and put this night behind you. 

Before you know it, the wedding is just a few days away and anxiety practically consumes you. It seems like the days pass all too quickly. The apprehension of a wedding you want no part of seemingly making it creep up faster. 

Your days are filled with wedding preparations. You and Owen spend your time sampling food to decide the wedding menu and signing invitations that are to be sent out as soon as possible. It’s a rather dreary time.

One weekend, you finally have a chance to escape the anxiety-inducing manor. You make your way into town, intent on doing a little shopping for yourself.

You’re wandering from shop to shop – thankful that you’ve managed to get out without any of the help on your tail. It was all hands on deck as the manor was prepared for the wedding and after-party, except for you, that is. 

You’re busy looking at an array of expensive, imported fabrics when someone calls your name from behind. You whip your head around and find Kyle standing there, pretty, brown eyes wide and sparkling.

“Kyle,” you whisper.

He says your name again, taking a few, long strides over to you until he’s standing in front of you, “I was passing by and I swore I saw you in here.”

“It’s me,” you smile, already feeling your heart race at having him so close to you once again. 

“I see that,” he laughs, raking his gaze down your body before finding your eyes once again, “You look lovely as always.”

“Thank you,” you feel your cheeks flush at the compliment, “What are you doing in town?”

“I had some errands to run,” he explains with a shrug, “What about you? I’m surprised to see you out and about with the wedding preparations.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, “I managed to find an opportunity to get out of there while everyone was preparing the venue for the wedding. You should see the place, it’s a frightful vision with all the decorations and flowers.”

“Ah, of course,” he hides his laugh behind his hand, “The wedding is awfully close now isn’t it?”

Your smile fades and you hum, anxiously turning to look at the fabrics again, “3 days away, I’m afraid.”

Kyle falls silent behind you, watching as you comb through the materials. Your shoulders seem so heavy and there are dark circles under your eyes that no amount of powder on your face could hide. 

He reaches forward and snags your hand up in his, “Come with me.”

“Where?” you ask but eagerly follow behind him as he leads you out of the store. He could lead you to the end of the world and you’d follow him.

The streets are noisy and bustling, thousands of people going about their day and lives. It feels nice to not be tailed by your servants because this way you can just feel like a normal person in society. With your hand tucked within Kyle’s, you almost feel like a regular couple going about your day together. 

Kyle leads you through the maze of the streets before the two of you find your way to his carriage. The horses idly lift their hooves and step back down, clearly antsy to get going.

“Where’s your driver?” you ask when he opens the door for you.

“Left him at home,” Kyle answers easily, “Don’t worry I’m an excellent driver. You’re in good hands.”

“I’m not worried,” you giggle, sitting back when he slams it shut for you. 

The spicy, floral scent that seems to always waft off him still lingers in the cabin. The carriage rocks as Kyle hoists himself up into the driver’s seat, taking the reins for the horses before setting off. 

The hustle and bustle of town is left behind as the two of you make your way to a destination you don’t know. You look out the window, admiring the view of nature. With the gentle lull of the carriage and the soft sound of the horse’s hooves on the ground, you realize just how sleepy you are. The wedding preparations were apparently more exhausting than you realized.

Your name sweetly being called is what roused you. A soft hand cups your cheek and you open your eyes to see the handsome face of Kyle.

“We’re here,” he coos, taking your hands to help you stumble out of the carriage.

You look around, finding yourself standing in front of an imposing manor.

“Where’s here?” you mumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Another manor that my family owns,” he says, slamming the door. 

“I see,” you hum, taking a look around. It’s a lovely place with neatly trimmed hedges and a fountain in the center of the circle driveway. 

“What about the servants here?” you ask, allowing him to lead you up to the grand doors.

“There aren’t any here at the moment,” he assures, “All the servants are currently occupied with my own wedding preparations. You don’t have to worry, we’re alone here.”

“That’s lucky,” you laugh, sharing a soft look with him.

Once the two of you are inside, you take in the beautiful manor. There’s a beautiful staircase and the walls are adorned with expensive paintings, some of which you recognize yourself despite not being too knowledgeable on art. 

“This was to be my home after my marriage,” he explains, waving for you to follow him up the stairs to the next story.

“I see…” you hum, trailing your fingertips over the beautiful wood banister but then pause, “What do you mean ‘was’?”

He stops in front of a door and pushes it open with a soft creak. You peek inside and discover a lavishly decorated bedroom. Being alone inside of a bedroom with a man who is not your fiance was incredibly improper. But Kyle is the man you love so you step inside with your heart racing in your chest. It feels so wrong, this rule was implemented in you your whole life being broken like this.

“I mean,” he hums, “If you’ll hear me out on what I have to say then the wedding will no longer be on. Neither will yours.”

Your heart lurches up into your chest as he leads you to take a seat beside him on the edge of the bed. He takes your hand in both of his, cupping it in his lap, stroking his thumb across your knuckles.

“What are you saying?” you ask, voice tight.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time,” he explains, “I want you. I don’t want to see you married off to that pig of a man they’ve set you up with. I don’t think I can live a life married to someone else when all I can think about every single day is you.”

“Kyle…” you whisper, squeezing his hand tightly, “Are you saying you want to call off the weddings? Our families wouldn’t–”

“No,” he grumbles, “I don’t want to call off the weddings. I want to marry you. Our families would never allow it but,” he takes a deep breath, “If we’re not under their charge anymore then what can they possibly do?”

“You want to run away?” you gasp, anxiety filling your chest when he nods, “But that-!”

“Our lives would be infinitely harder,” he smiles ruefully, “We wouldn’t have any of the comforts we have now. Our families wouldn’t support us. We’ll be disgraced by society and our friends. It’ll be hard but it would mean we can be together like we desire.”

“Kyle…” you whisper, eyes wide as you stare at him. 

“I understand it’s daunting. And if you choose to tell me no then I will do as you wish and continue to live my life this way,” he breathes, “I will continue to live with the agony of only getting to see you in secret, if that’s what you wish. But…” he reaches forward and cups your cheek in one big hand, “If you say yes then I will kiss you right now and I will show you just how much I love you and how much I need you to be mine.”

Your lips are parting before you can even make heads or tails of your own thoughts, “Yes, Kyle.”

Just as he promised, he surges forward and presses his soft lips against yours. The kiss is desperate and heated with one of his hands moving to cup the back of your head, keeping your lips firmly planted on his. 

You whimper into the kiss, the euphoria of having your love’s lips once again too much to bear. You feel the bedding beneath you as he pushes you down, holding his own weight above you with one hand to avoid crushing you. But you crave to feel his body against yours. 

You wrap one arm around his waist and pull him closer so his chest is flush with yours. Despite the layers of clothes separating the two of you, you can feel his body heat permeating through to you. 

That spicy, floral scent that wafts off of him is all around you. Your heart flutters in your chest and your hands tremble like leaves in the wind as you desperately grasp at him. He doesn’t break the kiss, even as you feel the hardened press of his member between your thighs. 

The air feels thick with every inhale, a foggy haze settling over your mind the deeper the kiss gets. After a moment, he finally breaks the kiss only to dive down to press his lips to your neck. His hands flutter around your clothes, working the buttons and ties open so the fabric can easily be pulled away from your body.

With every inch of bare skin exposed, his lips touch upon it and goosebumps rise in response. Your trembling fingers grip the expensive fabric of his shirt, needing to feel grounded to him as his lips wrap around one of your nipples.

You whine, back arching when his hand comes up to roll and pinch your other nipple between his fingers. You’d never been touched like his before and it felt electrifying, each swirl of his hot tongue making your thighs twitch where they rest around his lithe hips. 

“Kyle,” you gasp, “C-Can you–?”

“What?” he asks, barely separating from your breast to ask.

“T-Take off your shirt,” you request, cheeks feeling impossibly hot from the new stimulating pleasure your body is receiving. 

He chuckles, parting from the torture he’s inflicting on your nipple to sit up on his heels. He pulled off his suit coat, letting it fall to the floor. You watch with wide eyes as he pulls his tie free from around his neck before his fingers drift to his waistcoat to pull the buttons apart. You follow those long, pretty fingers as they meticulously undo his shirt button by button until the smooth expanse of his chest is exposed to your greedy eyes.

You reach up and slide your hands up his chest, pushing the articles of clothing off of his shoulder until he lets them drop to the floor to join his jacket. 

He’s on top of you again in seconds, large hands gripping your waist, your skin dimpling under the grip he has on you. You whimper when he cups your breasts, thumbing over your nipples as you sigh in pleasure. 

“Will you let me undress you completely, my heart?” he whispers, sounding breathless. 

“Yes, please, Kyle,” you nod, eagerly lifting your hips so he can free your lower half of the last bit of clothes that cover your body. 

He sucks in a deep breath when your pretty form is fully exposed to his gaze for the first time. He knew you were beautiful but like this, with shy hands over your bare breasts and smooth thighs clenched tightly together to hide the most intimate part from his greedy, prying eyes.

“You’re magnificent,” he whispers as if any louder would break the sanctity the two of you have cultivated together in this bedroom, “Why do you hide from me?”

“I-I don’t know,” you respond, cheeks burning hot as you avoid his gaze, “I feel so shy like this.”

He smiles, pretty teeth on full display, eyes crinkle up when he does. Gentle hands cupping your knees, he tenderly strokes your skin, “There’s no reason to be shy around me. I adore every inch of you and your body. Won’t you let me admire you like you deserve?”

His gaze is so soft and kind that you feel your body relax at his assurance. Your arms fall to your sides, letting him see those pretty tits again. His mouth waters at the sight of your perked nipples. 

But then you let your thighs fall open and the prettiest little cunt he ever could have imagined opens up to his greedy eyes. Your folds are shiny with a layer of slick and his tongue suddenly feels much drier than it did a second ago.

He realizes, in that moment, that he needs nothing more than to quench this apparent thirst right there between your legs. 

You gasp when he grips beneath your knees and spread you open even wider. Your hands fly to cover your face, unable to take the embarrassment that floods through you when his face gets closer and closer to your pussy. 

Two fingers dip into your folds, a loud, sticky noise sounding when he parts them. Your clit is puffy and swollen while your little hole twitches and drools messily at the contact. Slowly, almost painfully so, his tongue falls from his mouth to lick a wide strip over your cunt. You practically wail when his tongue drags over your clit, the little bud hard and twitchy against his muscle. 

His lashes flutter at the sound. It encourages him to lick over the bud again. It earns him another sound, like a little reward for every correct touch he gives you.

He focuses there, pinning your hips down when you start twitching and wiggling beneath him. His tongue swirls and swirls around your clit, drool and slick coating his chin and dripping down to the bed. He doesn’t care, the mess isn’t even on his radar. He’;s too lost in the sweet taste of you dancing on taste buds. You taste better than the most exquisitely crafted meal he’s ever had in his life. 

Your hands slam down to grab the bedding, fisting it desperately until the fabric creaks under your grip. The feeling of his tongue swirling and licking your clit is too much, you feel like you can’t take a breath deep enough. He moans and sighs softly into your cunt with every sweet little sound you gift to him.

One of his fingers finds your entrance, the little hole clenching pathetically around nothing. 

He detaches his lips from your clit, swallowing the sweet slick filling his mouth before asking, “Have you ever touched yourself here before?”

Your cheeks flush unbearably hot at the question but find yourself shaking your head, “N-No.”

He sweetly smiles at you, “I’ll be gentle.”

He hums thoughtfully and after a second, he begins sliding one of his fingers into you. It burns, even that minute stretch and his heart aches at the wince on your face. He leans forward and lets his tongue find your clit again, slurping it into his mouth so he can wrap his lips around it. The feeling makes your entire body tremble, your jaw falling open but no sounds actually come out. 

He doesn’t let you think too much about this feeling, using your relaxed, almost brainless state to introduce a second finger. It finally makes a whine break through from your chest, back arching and eyes rolling back into your head once he sinks them to the last knuckle. 

You never would have thought that something like this could feel so good. Your brain feels hazy, like no coherent thoughts can form. All you can focus on is how wonderful it feels to have Kyle’s thick fingers stuffed inside you while his pretty lips suckle on your sensitive clit. 

“K-Kyle!” you wail, feeling a hot ball swell up in your tummy.

“What is it, my heart?” he coos, looking up at you through his lashes. 

“I-Is it supposed to feel like this?” you meekly ask, lips swollen from biting them through your pleasure.

“Like what?” he asks, slowly moving his fingers snug inside your walls, careful not to hurt you. You’re coating them in sweet, syrupy slick and it’s a marvelous sight.

You twitch when he does that, your head falling back against the pillows, “Good.”

“You deserve nothing but pleasure, my heart,” he coos, eyes locking back onto the sight of his fingers stuffed inside your cunt. 

When he pulls them back, they’re coating in a milky white sheen. The sight makes him moan under his breath, carefully fucking you with them in preparation for something bigger. He keeps the pace slow, not wanting to overwhelm you with pleasure. His fingers crook upwards, hitting that gooey little spot inside that makes your hips buck up. Your cheeks burn when you hear the filthy, wet, sticky noises that come from where he’s fucking you open on his fingers.

He can’t believe he gets to see you like this; open and exposed for him. Any ounce of shyness has completely evaporated, allowing him full view of you in your basest, dirtiest state. 

“I’m a lucky man,” he huffs to himself, still fucking his fingers into that perfect spot in your cunt. You’re making the sweetest sounds and twitching so cutely on the bed from how good he’s making you feel on just his fingers alone.

You can’t even bring yourself to answer, too consumed with how fucking good it feels being fucked with his fingers. While you’re too dizzy to even think straight, he brings a third finger to your hole. 

It burns when he pushes it in but he brings his thumb up to rub your clit. You relax again, pain and pleasure mixing intoxicatingly, allowing the third digit to easily slide in alongside the others. 

He has you worked open on his three fingers, fuller than you’ve ever been in your life. You’re so hot and wet inside that it feels like his skin is burning, he can’t wait to know what it feels like to have you speared on his cock. 

“K-Kyle, wait!” you wail, reaching down to grip his wrist.

He freezes, letting you push his hand away. His fingers slide out of your cunt, your little hole clenching around nothing now that it was empty.

“What is it?” he asks, panic gripping his throat, “Did I hurt you?”

“N-No, I just…” you’re panting as you clumsily sit up, “I-I just wanted a break. It was…a lot.”

His anxiety melts off of him and he smiles, “Alright.”

“Can I…” you look down at his own pants where you can see the bulge of his cock against his thigh. Even clothed, it’s intimidatingly big. You swallow down the anxiety at the sigh and reach out to palm at him.

“Oh, let me undress,” he pants, quickly shedding the last few layers until he’s as naked as you are. 

His cock is long, thick and pretty. It’s hard, twitching against his stomach as it drools precum down the shaft. You lick your lips and reach your hand out, glancing at his face to make sure that he’s okay with it before your hand wraps around him. He sighs, shoulders relaxing where he stands at the first bit of pleasure on his neglected cock.

He reaches down to guide your hand, showing you how he likes to be stroked. Your movements are clumsy and your grip is unsure but the sight of his fat cock wrapped up in your pretty hand is enough to make his cock drool messily all over himself.

“Can I…” you look up at him, pretty eyes sparkling, “Can I use my mouth like you did for me?”

His cock twitches at the question, imagining what it would feel like to have his cock buried in your tight, hot throat. But he finds himself shaking his head despite how badly he wants it, reaching out to run his thumb over the seam of your lips. 

“It’s dirty, sweetheart,” he coos, “You don’t need to do that.”

“But you did it for me,” you argue, pouting at his words.

He smiles, “It’s different. I live only to give something as divine as you pleasure, my heart. You don’t need to degrade yourself for me like that,” you open your mouth to argue but he pushes you back onto the bed, “Besides, I want to get to the main event.”

“This isn’t over,” you pout but settle into the pillows, letting him arrange your legs so they’re situated around his hips. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” he laughs, “You are quite stubborn.”

“I’m glad you noticed,” you giggle, feeling incredibly at ease despite the imposing image of his monstrous cock resting on your stomach, showing you just how deep he’s going to reach when he’s inside you.

He leans down, letting his weight rest on one arm above your head. You feel safe, protected under his body like this and can’t help but wind your arms around his neck when you have him so close. 

“Can you just relax for me, my heart?” he asks, lips brushing against your ear as he uses his free hand to direct his cockhead to your drooling entrance, “Just relax…that’s it. So good for me.”

You’re so wet and slippery as he slides the head between your folds that it’s embarrassing. Your body twitches beneath his when he slips the head over your clit before pressing against your entrance again. Your jaw falls open as he pushes inside ever so slowly, centimeter by centimeter.

Your nails bite into his shoulders but he ignores it. He knows it has to burn, has to hurt with how tight your precious little cunt is around his big, fat cock. He forgives you for clawing up his back like this because it’s the least he deserves for bringing your divine body any kind of pain. But he knows it will all be worth it when he’s finally balls deep. 

You’re making the sweetest sounds as he works you open, sinking himself deeper and deeper with every passing second. Before long, he balls are pressing against your ass and his pelvis meets your clit. Your walls seize around him at the pleasure, a moan of his own breaking from his chest. There’s a deep ache from the way the tip prods against your cervix but even that still feels good.

You can’t keep quiet even if you wanted to as he begins slowly and gently working his hips back and forth. You have this delirious look in your eyes, they’re sparkling with your pupils blown wide and you stare at him like he’s a god. This pleasure you’re feeling for the first time is hypnotic, addictive.

“You can’t ever marry anyone else now, my heart,” he coos, gripping your chin so you look at him, “No man will ever be able to satisfy you like I can.”

You shake your head, “Don’t want anyone else, Kyle,” your words are slurred as you speak them, “Only want you. I only love you.”

“That’s right,” he whispers, sweat beginning to bead along his forehead, “Only me. You’re all mine, I won’t ever share you again.”

He pulls back to look between your bodies, seeing the way you’re creaming messily around his cock. It aids in the movements, makes them smoother and deeper. He prods against the gooey, tender little spot deep inside of you that makes your moans pitch higher and your pretty eyes roll back into your head. You’re the vision of sin. 

One of his hands finds yours, threading his fingers between your own as he pins it to the bed. He uses it as leverage to work his cock in and out of you. His hips slap against yours over and over again. 

He hits that tender, sweet little spot inside you that makes lights explode behind your eyelids. You eagerly spread your legs for him, wanting to feel him more and deeper. You’re gasping, moans being punched out of your lungs every time he sinks completely inside you. 

You’re making a mess around his cock, thick strings of sticky cum connecting his hips to yours. Filthy, sticky, wet noises of your cunt being fucked just like it deserves fills the room.

“Kyle,” you huff, jaw falling open as your eyes widen, “I-It feels…”

He knows. God, does he know. He feels the way your walls seize around him, clenching and spasming as the orgasm builds inside of you. His balls draw up, his own orgasm brewing inside him.

“Hold on for me, my heart,” he pants, “I want us to cum together.”

“Wh-What do you mean?” you manage to stumble out, eyes fighting to roll back into your head but you want to see him.

He looks beautiful, sweat coating his skin. The sun is dipping beneath the horizon outside, painting the room in beautiful shades of orange that only make him look ethereal. The light coming in from the window behind him gives him a halo, he looks positively enchanting and you find your mouth suddenly feels dry. 

This man is yours, all yours. He’s yours to hold and to keep. No one can keep you apart anymore. He’s here with you in this bed, sealing his own fate to be with you for the rest of his life because he loves you like he’s never loved anyone else in his life. 

From the day you were born, you were told you were to be with someone else. But you knew, in this moment, that you were truly destined to be with Kyle. You were put on this Earth for the sole purpose of finding him and loving him for the rest of your life. 

You squeeze his hand in his when he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. You’re both panting and gasping into each other's mouths. 

“Look at me, my heart,” he whispers, cock aching and twitching within the tight, snug, grasp of your precious little cunt, “Don’t look away.”

You wouldn’t be able to look away even if you wanted to. He has you hypnotized, big, pretty eyes are deep pools of black. His pupils are blown impossibly wide and his lashes flutter with every wave of pleasure he feels within your pussy. 

Your body seizes up as that tight thread of pleasure suddenly snaps, “Kyle-!”

His lips meet yours, sealing you into a kiss as his brows furrow. The blissful clenching of your cunt brings him to his own end. He grunts as he spills inside you, rocking his hips to work both of you through the electrifying, dizzying high that you share together for the first time. 

You’re whimpering and whining into his ear as he works the two of you down with lazy, messy humps of his hips. His cock is softening, coated in a hot, sticky layer of your cum and his. It’s a filthy mess, dribbles from his length when he pulls out. Your cunt still clenches through the aftershocks, spilling out onto the bed – not that he cares.

Your arms wind around his waist and you pull him flush against you again. You don’t want him to go anywhere, you crave having his body close to yours as you catch your breath and wait for your heart to stop pounding like a scared rabbit. 

He lays on his side beside you, curling himself around your body as he tucks himself protectively into his chest. There’s a comfortable, soft silence between the two of you. You can hear the birds outside as they chirp and you can hear Kyle’s soft breaths and beating heart.

“We’ll stay here for a few days,” he suddenly says, “After that, everyone will begin looking for us. We’ll  have to leave town by then.”

“Where will we go?” you ask, affectionately kissing his chin so he’ll look down at you.

He smiles, brushing some stray hairs out of your face, thumbing over the soft skin of your cheeks where they’re still flushed hot from your activities. You kiss his thumb when he rubs it over your lips, “I’m not sure. Somewhere that no one will recognize us – where we can start a new life.”

“Anywhere will be a good life as long as I have you, Kyle,” you assure, leaning up to peck his cheek this time.

“I feel the same, my beautiful,” he kisses your forehead, “magnificent,” he kisses your nose, “betrothed to be.”

He seals those words with a sweet, soft kiss to your lips. 

this work belongs to rowarn. do not modify or repost to other websites. reblogs OK!

[sturniqlo]

I BEG please do more bff!chris / bf!chris hcs

ideas:

chris giving you piggybacks

sleeping with chris but you take the blanket so he has no choice but to cuddle up against u

cooking with chris and he feeds you

chris begging for massages / to massage you

chris praising you whenever you feel insecure

chris talking to his brothers endlessly about how much he loves you

WE'RE IN LOVE- CHRIS STURN

summary: a collection of bf!chris and gf!y/n headcannons

cw: FLUFFF, slight curing, very minimal suggestive material

an: you guys seem to LOVE these flirty!bff!chris headcannons so here's bf!chris | shoutout to this anon | lowercase intended

masterlist | taglist

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bf!chris who BEGS to give you a piggyback ride anytime anywhere

"get on!" chris looks back at y/n signaling for her to get on his back. "chris! we're like ten steps away from my house!" she giggles. "i'll carry you to your room, come on. please." y/n gives in and gets on his back and chris hoists her on his back, grabbing onto the back of her thighs. "ready?" he stands straight and looks back at her. "yup!" chris hums a playful tune all the way to the front door and up to her room. "thank you, baby." y/n places a kiss on his cheek before getting down.

"please? i love giving you piggyback rides." chris gently holds her face in his hands. "babe, i don't want to hurt your back." she pouts. "you won't, i promise you. never have never will. please, baby." he places a kiss on her pout. "come on, get on my back. i've got somewhere to take you." chris kisses the tip of her nose. "fine, take me to said place." she smiles, ruffling his hair.

bf!chris who has no choice but to cuddle you when you take all of the blanket

"baby, wake up. i want some blanket." chris whispers in her ear. for the last twenty minutes, chris has been trying to gently wake y/n up so he can get a bit of blanket. even without trying to wake her up, she had some grip on the blanket. he tries to pull the blanket off but, it was tightly wrapped around her. chris sighs, he turns the tv off and cuddles up on y/n. hours later, y/n turns over, throwing some blanket off of her in the process. opening her eyes she sees chris wrapped around her without any blanket. "baby, why didn't you wake me?" she whispers, giving him some blanket. "hm?" he mumbles.

bf!chris who loves cooking with gf!y/n

"is this too much?" chris refers to the amount of cheese on the soon to be baked lasagna. "that's perfect, actually." y/n dries the last clean dish. she dries her hands off and goes to open the oven so chris can place it in there. "now we wait." he closes the over door. "i think i have a way we can pass this time." chris walks towards her and places his hands on her waist. "really?" she acts confused. "oh yeah." he says before kissing on her neck.

"here, try it." chris brings one of the cupcakes they had just baked and decorated to her mouth, feeding her. "mm, i say we did pretty good." she chews the sweet treat. "here, try the strawberry one." he brings the other cupcake flavor up to her mouth. "oh, this one is my favorite." she points to the bitten cupcake in chris' hand.

bf!chris who loves receiving massages from gf!y/n and loves giving you massages back

"my back is killing me." is the first thing chris says as he enters his room, returning back from filming a video with his brother. "hello to you too, baby." y/n giggles from chris' bed, y/n decided to wait in chris' room while he filmed. "hi, baby. i missed you very much." he bends down slightly to press a kiss to her lips, hissing at the ache in his lower back. "it's that bad?" she pouts at his pain. "unfortunately." he plops on the bed. "why don't you go take a hot shower and when you come back i'll give you a massage, hm?" chris does exactly that. "oh- fuck. right there." chris groans as y/n glides her hands on his back, massaging her. "how are you so good at this?" he says, mumbling.

"come here." chris motions y/n to sit against his chest. all day, her cramps have been killing her and her muscles have been aching. "cramps still hurting you?" he presses a light kiss to her shoulder. "they're a bit better, the heating pad is working great. my shoulders ache a bit, though." she sighs, throwing her head back against his shoulder. "here, let me massage your shoulders." he kisses her temple. "really, you would do that?" chris nods. "of course." he places his hands on her shoulders and starts to gently rub them.

bf!chris who always makes you feel better whenever you get insecure

"ugh." y/n groans, looking at herself in the mirror, hating how her figure looks in her dress. "you almost ready, babe?" chris enters the bathroom, looking his girlfriend up and down in her dress. the material hugging her in the right places, he looks back up at her face to avoid himself from getting hard. "almost, i think i'm going to change." she runs her hands over her slightly bloated belly. "what, why? you look amazing in this." he walks over to her and runs his hands over her body. looking at the two of them in the mirror. "i look so bloated, though. and i don't like how it looks on me." chris gets pretty upset, hating how she's talking about herself. "what? no you don't. you look absolutely beautiful. i fucking love your body. you're absolutely perfect, babe." y/n slightly smiles. "really? you think so?" she looks at him through the mirror. "i know so."

bf!chris who always talks about you when he's with his brothers

"guys, y/n would love this!" chris picks up a jellycat, knowing she loves them. "she has seven of them. she's got a cherry one, a little peanut, a bunny, the birthday cake i got her for her birthday, a little egg with a top hat, a moon one, and a dragon." he tells his brothers. "you memorized all of 'em?" nick giggles. "yup, my favorite one is the egg."

"she's just so perfect like, how can anyone be so perfect? sometimes i think she isn't real because she's that perfect." chris sighs, placing his chin on his hand, thinking about y/n who is currently on vacation with her family. "just call her, i'm sure she's missing you like you're missing her." matt nudges his brother. "i don't wanna bother her." he looks at his two brothers. "she'll tell yo-" chris' phone rings in his pocket. "oh- there she is!" nick laughs.

"you really love her, don't you?" nick smiles at chris. "very much, she's all i think about now." chris opens the fridge and grabs a can of pepsi. nick had just finished a whole rant and chris would interrupt here and there whenever nick said something that reminded him of y/n. nick was happy for his brother, he loved seeing this side of him. a plus was that he got a new best friend out of it, y/n. she was so sweet, very caring, loving and very attentive.

"face id isn't working, what's your code?" matt says. "it's ****." chris takes the last bite of his burger. "isn't that y/n's birthday?" matt looks at chris. "mhm." chris hums through chewing.

bf!chris who gets hard by looking at your instagram pictures

baby, i'm so fucking hard right now. chris hits sends to his message. any why is that? y/n quickly types back, shielding her phone from her friends view. i miss you so i looked through your insta profile and that one post of you in the yellow bikini made me hard :(( come back to me please!!! he throws his head back, remembering the pictures. i won't be back to yours until eleven :/. she sighs, wanting to go to him. please, i'll make you feel so good, you know i never let you down. "fuck." she whispers, crossing her legs. fine, i'm leaving now.

bf!chris who always showers you in love and kinds words

"i just love you so much." chris plants butterfly kisses all over her face. "i love you more." y/n giggles. "impossible." he kisses her cheek one last time before placing his face in her neck. "i love you soo much." chris drags out the word.

"so, so beautiful. can't believe i get to call you mine." chris moans into her neck. "fuck- chris! right- right there!" she arches her back. "feel so good wrapped around me, squeezing me so fucking good- shit!" he thrusts his dick in and out of her. "look at you, my pretty, pretty girl. i love you so fucking much. want- fuck! want you to come for me." he kisses up neck and up her jaw, making his way up to her lips. "don't stop, please. please don't stop." she gasps, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue in.

bf!chris who always has to be touching you

"hey! come back." chris pouts at the fact that y/n had moved in her sleep and his arm is no longer draped over her. "hm?" y/n mumbles. "come here. in my arms, feeling cold without you." chris reaches out for her and brings her to his chest. "much better." he kisses her bare shoulder.

both y/n and chris were currently at a party and chris was attached to her hip at all times. whether it be having a finger in her back pocket, an arm wrapped around her waist, his arm over her shoulders, or his chin on her shoulder.

bf!chris who loves to hear all the gossip you have to offer

"so then she told vic that her boyfriend had slept with this other girl. and guess what?!" chris gasps at his girlfriends question. "what?" he's antsy to know. "vic didn't believe her, and she got mad and almost fought her! like what the hell?" y/n throws her hands up. "no way, that's fucked up, honestly! didn't that happens last time with what was her name?" he snaps his fingers to think. "jade?" y/n gasps. "yes! i totally forgot about that one time."

"hey, what happened with the drama between pauli and eli?" chris questions, recalling that one time y/n mentioned the feud between the two. "oh my god! i never told you! so basically-" y/n goes on about the drama. chris interrupting to speak his mind here and there. "i agree! like you cannot tell eli isn't in the wrong." y/n agrees with chris. "tell me more!"

bf!chris who always tries to get your mind off of whatever is stressing you

"let's go get some lunch and we can go to the movies or something, okay? get your mind off of things for a bit." chris kisses y/n on the cheek, who has had her eyes on her laptop screen for two hours now. "chris, baby, i can't. this is due by next week. and i'm almost halfway." she whines. "exactly, you're almost halfway, it's okay to take a break for a couple of hours. i promise when we come back you can work on it again." he waits for a response. "okay, fine. thank you for doing this. i love you."

"i think that's enough, you're stressing yourself out." chris takes her textbook away. "no, wait. im-" he gives her a look. "give your eyes a break. you've probably already read a million words. i can see the gears turning in your head." chris places the book on his nightstand. "but-" chris cuts her off with a kiss on her lips. "no buts, we're going to spend the rest of the night together, no textbooks, okay?" he mumbles against her lips. "okay."

bf!chris who always takes care of you whenever you're sick

"you're buring up!" chris gasps as he puts the back of his hand against her forehead. "no, no, i'm fine. i need to make breakfast." she tries to get up but he gently pushes her back. "no, you stay here and i'll make you breakfast, tea and i'll bring you your medicine." he places a kiss to her hot forehead before leaving the room.

"feeling any better?" chris walks in with a tray of a bowl of hot soup and a bottle of water. "a bit." y/n sits up against the headboard and coughs. "here, eat it while it's still hot." chris places the tray over her lap. "i'll be back, gonna get myself a bowl." he places the millionth kiss on her forehead before exiting the room. "i need more tissue!" she groggily yells. "coming!" chris says from the kitchen.

bf!chris who asks you to get an apartment with him

"wait- so you want me" y/n points to herself. "to move with you." she then points to chris. "exactly, i want to move in with you! what do you think?" he awaits an answers "i think that's the best idea you've ever had!" she squeals, throwing herself into his lap. "i love you, i love you, i love you!" she kisses his lips with every word.

bf!chris who surprises you with a puppy once you two are moved in

"you didn't!" y/n gasps, covering her mother with her hands. "i did! look at him, he's so cute!" chris holds their new puppy in his arms, walking towards y/n so she can carry him. "oh, he's adorable. thank you, chris. i love you!"

[deusfoundry]

for your follower milestone event, how about hand kisses with zayne? it's literally cannon that he does it so MC all the time, which is SO CUTE, but how about a taste of his own medicine :D hand kisses hurt/comf, potentially relating to his evol/scars?

hand kisses with zayne

a/n: hello nonnie! sorry for the wait ehe i hope u like this!! its not as much hurt as it is comfort but we move ig hhejhsf thanks for sending in your request!! mwah!!

zayne doesn't flinch when he feels your hand inching towards his. he only smiles, the corners of his lips tugging on instinct. the feeling of it is familiar, smooth skin on his, something akin to being greeted by the cloudless skies on nights when his shift at the hospital would stretch far beyond usual working hours, but no less comforting. it peels back layers of stress from his already relaxed body, strips away any remnants of pain from his arm that keeps you seated on his lap.

he doesn't flinch when your hand slides off in favor of turning his over, so that his palm is facing upwards. your right cheek stays pressed against his chest as you trace along the lines of his palm. you follow each dip and curve, almost mindlessly, as if the lines are pathways, guides that lead you closer to his soul.

he doesn't flinch, even when your fingers trail up. they curl around his wrist, your touch loose and feather-like, and it sends a jolt of electricity down his spine. it tickles, oddly enough, but zayne remains perfectly still beneath you.

he's content with this, of being subject to your thoughtless ministrations. of utter silence save for the sound of dialogue between characters of a random show playing on the television. of peace, of you.

until your fingers drift to his scar, a shallow, healed gash that stretches down half the length of his forearm before it's abruptly cut off by one that wraps around his entire arm diagonally.

you notice the change in his demeanor right away. it's subtle, the way he tenses, like the freezing over of a pond once winter dawns. he's still one second, body taking slow and measured breaths in tandem with your fingers drawing on his skin, and frozen the next, muscles taut and pulled into knots. you feel the stuttering of his chest as he struggles to breathe in, and the erratic way in which he breathes out.

even then, in a moment of panic, he's considerate of you, quick to force his muscles to relax, his breathing to steady.

but this rare instance where the world pauses itself for you loses all meaning if zayne is like this, bothered and tense, and you're determined to make quick work of it.

"zayne?" one of your hands takes root on his chest, using it as leverage to push yourself up. it stays there, over where his lungs and his heart meet. part of your worries is quelled when the rise and fall of his chest takes upon a slow, steady rhythm.

"what's..." you trail off the moment your eyes flit towards your other hand. it's still there, resting on his forearm, and half a second passes by before it hits you.

both of your hands tentatively reach out, lowering just enough to take his right hand within yours. you cradle his hand with as much care as you can muster, touch almost ghost-like as you take hold of his fingers. you hope it's enough to say i'm here. it's alright, you pray he understands with each time your fingers run over his knuckles. 

you take it a step further when he doesn't move, eyes merely glazed with curiosity over your actions, and bring his hand close to your lips.

you start off small, a peck over each fingertip, kisses that linger on his knuckles. your eyes remain locked on his to gauge how he reacts. following the path you took earlier with your fingers, you shift his hand around to plant one tender kiss over his wide palm, and another on his wrist.

finally, you reach the first of his scars.

there's a moment where zayne stiffens when your lips find the toughened skin. his breath catches, the tension leaves his body the further up you go, but he doesn't quite relax until you've pulled away to lock your fingers into his.

"i love you." you say, voice just above a whisper, as if a sound any louder would break this bubble surrounding you and zayne.

"and i love this." you trace one of his scars, finger slow and deliberate as you run the tip up and down the length of it before moving to another one. "and this," and another, "and this," and another, until you've mapped out all his scars like constellations.

"every part of you is beautiful, zayne." your voice drips with affection and care and everything that's too big to put into words, too all consuming to declare. you catch a silent look of gratitude on his face, his lips donning its earlier smile as you cup his cheek. "please never forget that.”

[luffington]

love ur fics sm 😄 can i request dom!sanji x reader smut where reader is a strawhat ? i love sub!sanji but there’s suck a lack of dom!sanji in the fandom it pains meee , thank u !!!!

➤ pairing: vinsmoke sanji x afab!reader

➤ word count: 1.8k

➤ warnings: soft dom!sanji, overstimulation, praise kink, oral (f receiving), established relationship, aftercare, fem reader

aww thank you :') i feel the same way!! i wanna step on him as much as the next person but i need a little variety sometimes...

this was honestly kinda hard to write bc sanji would never hurt his partner (especially a fem reader) but pleasure doms exist for a reason! i hope i stayed true to his character and still fulfilled your request <3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

The Sunny’s kitchen was filled with the mouth-watering scent of vegetables sautéed with fragrant herbs. A rare fish caught by Brook earlier that day simmered in a pan next to them on the stove. Sanji was completely engrossed in his work, carefully monitoring every component and regularly taste-testing everything. Watching him cook was always fascinating, but you weren’t in the mood that day. You closed the door rather loudly behind you to catch your boyfriend’s attention.

“Hello, my love!” His serious demeanor changed as soon as he saw you. “Are you hungry? Sorry, I should’ve started cooking earlier. Didn’t realize how long this fish took to prepare. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, can you please tell the rest of the crew?”

Food was the last thing on your mind. You were needy. It had been almost four days since the last time you and Sanji had sex, and not by choice. Some infamous pirate had pissed Luffy off, and your entire crew inevitably ended up in a heated battle with his minions. The two of you were too exhausted by the end for even a quick fuck. As soon as Chopper finished patching up your injuries, you crawled into bed and passed out. 

“Sanji, I’m horny,” you whined.

His face turned almost as red as the blood that trickled from his nose. “...Five. Five minutes.”

He would’ve dropped everything and immediately sprinted to your bed if he had been doing anything else.

Nothing was stopping you from masturbating, of course – nothing except your boyfriend acting like a kicked puppy if he didn’t get to watch. He loved sitting just out of your reach, jerking himself off and watching you touch yourself. Sometimes he gave you instructions. Sanji wanted every ounce of your pleasure to be inseparable from him.

So he suffered through dinner, impatiently tapping his foot and barely participating in the conversation, glancing at you every five seconds. The moment everyone finished eating, he flew out the door with you stumbling behind. Nami and Robin knew to stay far away from the women’s quarters for the next few hours.

Sanji was a menace in the bedroom – in his own gentlemanly way. He would never lay a hand on you that wasn’t filled with love. Nothing in the world could convince him to degrade, restrain, or discipline you, even if you asked for it. He lived to serve and care for others, and he went above and beyond for you. Not satisfied until pleasure burned through you like a cigarette and you were absolutely blissed out, mumbling his name over and over like a prayer.

As soon as you were alone with the door securely locked behind you, the blonde climbed on top of you and kissed you passionately, groaning when you wrapped your arms around him to pull him closer. Loved the feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair, the taste of his food lingering on your tongue. He only pulled away from devouring your mouth to promise that he'd take such good care of you. He always stayed true to his word. 

Strong hands slipped under your shirt to fondle your tits and tweak your nipples, his tongue still shoved down your throat. Sanji gently removed your top, then mouthed along your throat and sternum until his lips wrapped around your nipple. He echoed your moan and murmured, "Make more pretty sounds like that, my angel. Show me how much you need this."

Filthy wet noises filled the room as he intently sucked your hardened bud and rolled the other between his fingers. Hearing you whimper ‘Sanji’ lit a fire inside him and he palmed the growing bulge in his slacks. You ached to feel his heavy cock on your tongue or stretch out your cunt, but your boyfriend had the patience of a saint. You always came first – literally and figuratively.

He slid your pants and undies down your legs and teasingly kissed from your ankle to your inner thigh, leaving behind a few playful bite marks carefully soothed by his lips. Mumbled something cheesy about needing his dessert after a meal, which made you roll your eyes affectionately. The man couldn’t resist his food metaphors.

“Aww, don’t give me that look, darling,” he purred, resting his cheek on your hipbone with a dreamy expression. “Your pussy really is that delicious, so sweet and wet for me.” Pressed a chaste kiss below your navel then dove between your legs without a second thought. 

The blonde licked along your slit with the flat of his tongue, groaning deep in his chest when he realized how wet you already were. He would never rush through eating an opulent dessert, needing to take it slowly and savor every little taste. So he focused entirely on your clit, swirling his wet muscle around it then sucking intently. Electric shocks tingled down your spine and heat rapidly ignited your core. Four days was objectively a short time to go without sex, but you were already embarrassingly close after only a few minutes of his mouth on your cunt. You didn’t even need to warn your boyfriend of your impending orgasm – he easily recognized the signs. Knew your body even better than you did. 

You came with a cry of his name, your back arching off the bed and thighs clamping around his head. Sanji continued to lick your cunt the entire time, humming happily as he slurped every drop of your juices. After a few moments of riding out your ecstasy, you realized he wasn’t stopping. He didn’t even slow down. 

Overwhelmed by the sensations, you tried to protest, though you didn’t actually want him to stop. Your body could only handle so much, especially since your muscles were still sore from fighting the previous day. He paid you no mind, gently assuring you that he only wanted to help you and make you feel good (which was true, but he was also rock hard from tasting your cunt, grinding his hips against the mattress like a horny teenager). Plus, you could use your safe word at any time – he reminded you of that several times a week.  

Sanji suddenly lifted your legs and folded your body in half until your ankles were next to your ears, wet pussy on full display. Your boyfriend was absolutely drunk off of your cunt, but he needed to watch your reaction. Seeing your eyes roll back into your skull for him, your cheeks red and lips parted, was absolutely stunning. His nose insistently rubbed against your clit as his tongue shoved its way inside you, lapping at your wet walls. You gripped the sheets with white knuckles and squirmed at the feeling of his beard rubbing at your sensitive skin. Stars flashed across your vision as you came again, legs trembling mid-air.

The blonde hummed happily and swiped a finger through your slick, making your oversensitive body jolt, then brought it to your lips. “Taste.” A gentle command with no real backing, but a command nonetheless. You happily sucked it into your mouth, obsessed with how his visible eye darkened with lust when your cheeks hollowed around the digit. “That’s a good girl. My perfect girl.”

That finger, now wet with your spit, traveled back between your legs to circle your hole. He had a look of fiery determination as he settled his body over you, leaning on one elbow. “I would never let my princess only cum once.” 

There was no stopping him until he decided you were satisfied. In a quiet voice, you reminded him that you actually came twice, but it made no difference to either of you. 

He expertly scissored your insides apart and massaged your wet walls. You begged him to let you take care of his noticeable bulge, precum beginning to stain the outer layer of his pants – somehow, he was still fully clothed. He shook his head and insisted that he was alright, that you mattered more. You came to him for help, after all. 

Sanji only gave you a few minutes of reprieve after your third orgasm, choosing to make out with you languidly and try (but fail) to stop himself from grinding against your thigh, desperate for any sort of friction. Your boyfriend obviously didn’t have the sexual stamina of a god, especially when it came to who he declared to be the most beautiful woman in all of existence. He just liked edging himself. 

Tears pricked at your eyes when he shoved his head between your thighs again, scissoring you open to keep licking at your sweet hole. 

The first time Sanji made you cry from too many orgasms felt like a knife to his chest. He had immediately pulled his cock out of you and cupped your face cautiously like you were made of glass. Apologizing endlessly, already spiraling into self-hatred and mourning the loss of the best relationship he would ever have. You shook your head and told him they were happy tears. He seemed very confused and no less mortified, so you explained that he was making you feel so fucking good that you lost control of your body. That shut him up immediately.

Sanji paused his movements for a moment to ask, “Happy tears?” You nodded eagerly and he cooed at you, wiping away the droplets and telling you how incredible and beautiful you are, promising that you just needed to hang on a little longer. He would never enjoy seeing you cry, but he trusted that you knew your limits. 

You nearly blacked out when a fourth orgasm washed over you, but were pulled back to consciousness by Sanji’s soft lips against yours. He really did let you relax this time, caressing the top of your head and kissing every inch of your face, focusing on the drying tears staining your cheeks. Asked if you wanted a glass of water, a gentle massage – anything. You refused, so he rested his head on your chest to feel your rapid heartbeat slow down and your lungs relax. 

“Are you satisfied, my dear?” 

“Definitely. But you aren’t.” You frowned, shifting against his clothed cock to feel it twitch helplessly against your leg.

Sanji bit back a moan and forced a gentle smile. “Just let me know when you’re ready for more. I can wait minutes, or hours, or even days – it’s completely up to you.”

You shook your head, smirking as you tugged on the waistband of his pants. “Four days was long enough.” Zipping down his fly at a slow, teasing pace, then lightly rubbing the head of his cock through his boxers. “Stop being so humble and let me suck your dick.”

Hearts filled his eyes. “I would never deny my angel what she wants.”

[a-shade-of-blue]

I've been reading the updates on Gaza, and what I've read has made me extremely worried about Mohammed (@ahmed0khalil) and his family who are in Deir el-Balah right now.

There have been continuous relentless attacks on Deir el-Balah. Israel has been targeting tents in Deir el-Balah. Just a few hours ago, Israeli fighters have just bombed a home in that area, killing at least 5 people, including 2 children.

Mohammed and his family are sheltering in a UN classroom right now. Israel is known to target schools sheltering displaced people. Just yesterday another school where displaced families are sheltering has been attacked. This is the fourth school Israel has bombed in less than a week! But they don't have nearly enough funds to evacuate!

Mohammed is only 19 years old and he has 5 siblings. Things have been difficult for them his brother Fathi who is blind, his other brother Abdullah who is autistic and does not understand what is happening, and little 6-year-old Ahmed. They are all suffering from malnutrition because they don't have enough money to buy food, and that is on top of the frequent attacks they have to face every day!

Mohammed's campaign has been shared by 90-ghost as well as vetted by @/gazavetters and is #77 on their vetted list. I've also been communicating regularly with him. Please help! Your donation can mean life or death for them!

Low Funds! Only €3,418 raised of €50,000 goal!

Tagging for reach, please dm me if you want off the mailing list! We thank you in advance.

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[totalswag]

Hello lovely I love ur writing abt Drew & Reader actresse sweetheart it's so good <3 I have a little request to make to you if you don't mind, Drew react to the Reader acting in the horror film masterpiece (like the movies Suspiria and Climax vibes) of which she's a part of the main cast

I'm just curious if he would be terrified or blown away by this kind of role that she plays like this one or not ;) thank u !!!

unbelievable performance — DREW STARKEY

authors note aw thank you lovie! that means so much to me. by the time you are reading this, my second fic with drew x actress!reader is out (the first date). i have never seen either movies that you listed in your request but i did look them up to get a gist.

summary drew was impressed by your performance in your latest horror film.

warnings mentions of kissing, horror films

masterlist

Tonight marks the premiere of your new horror film, in which you star with some amazing actors. After many hours of continuous filming, sequences are officially wrapped. You're extremely proud of yourself and your casemates. 

You were the staring lead in the movie. Getting the part after auditioning was a blessing in disguise. This being your very first staring lead role in any movie you’ve been in, you were so proud of yourself.

Everyone is seated in the theater. Drew, your boyfriend, also came with you. The entire cast stood in front of the stage as your director discussed the film a bit.

You shifted your focus to Drew, who was already looking at you in admiration, which made you smile and making you blush.

When you stepped up to your seat, he leaned down to your ear and whispered, "I want you to know that I'm so proud of you, and I know you did an amazing job on this movie," before kissing the top of your head.

“I love you baby, so much” you answer with your voice already starting to crack before tears wanted to burst out.

“Me more.”

Drew was so excited to watch his beautiful girlfriend on the big screen. Non-stop talking about the movie with you and his predictions on what will happen.

Everyone in the theater began to applaud as soon as the lights went out. Drew's hand moved easily down your thigh and gave it a little squeeze. Your skin began to tingle from his touch.

The movie begins with a hauntingly beautiful dance routine in which the camera swirls around the dancers in a way that is both captivating and unnerving. Drew is instantly captivated. As the story progresses, he observes your character navigating a world fraught with psychological pain and supernatural fear.

Half way through the movie, it’s been jaw dropping and incredible.

He is always on the edge of his seat in every situation you are in. You capture the dread and lunacy of the film's twisted narrative with an unvarnished and honest performance.

He's afraid and enthralled with the story at the same time, amazed at your ability to portray such raw emotion. Never once did he take his eyes off the screen.

The way the movie came out was unbelievable. The editors did wonders on this movie and made it into something viewers will want to keep watching.

Once you two arrived home after eating dinner at the after party, Drew and you took a shower together in your shared bathroom, changed into pajamas, then went into bed with the tv playing.

Later that night, back at home, Drew can't stop talking about the movie.

"You know, watching you in that role allowed me to see a completely other side of you. You were fierce, vulnerable, and incredibly compelling. "It was like watching an acting masterclass."

You laugh quietly and rest your head on his shoulder. "It means a lot hearing you say that. I was concerned about how you would react."

"Are you kidding?" I loved it. "I'm just glad I wasn't watching it alone in the dark," he jokes.

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[pastryfication]

hello! i was wondering if you could write a little blurb for oscar where the reader was having a rough day (people picking on her in the paddock, getting knocked over..) and when she comes home, oscar instantly senses something is wrong and that’s when she finally breaks. maybe ends in some comfort with him being gentle to her and trying to soothe her?

hi thank u so much for this request 🫶🫶 i haven’t proofread this so ignore the mistakes pls!! hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it.

tough day | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of stress? idk

your day had been terrible from the moment you had woken up. the traffic was unbearable, everything had gone wrong at your job, and you could feel the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders even more with each second passing. and as if that wasn’t enough, someone accidentally knocked you over in the bustling crowd on the way home, and instead of offering help, they barely acknowledged your presence. the physical pain was minor, but the emotional toll was crushing. by the time you reached home, you felt like a shadow of yourself.

as you walked up the stairs to your apartment, you wanted nothing more than to curl up under a blanket on the couch and let the day melt away, but even that was too much to ask for apparently. because with sinking heart, you realised you had forgotten your keys.

tears of frustration begins to prick at your eyes as you stare at the closed door. of course this happens to you. as if your day hadn’t been bad enough already.

just when you’re about to turn around and call your mom to get her spare key, the door swings open, and there, in all his glory, stands your boyfriend. your formula 1 driver boyfriend who wasn’t supposed to be home before tomorrow.

“oscar,” you whisper his name to test of he’s really there. maybe this was just some fever dream your brain was making up after such a catastrophic day.

“hi, love.” he smiles and you can’t hold yourself back as you step forward, burrowing yourself in his arms. holding back a sniffle, you press your face into his chest, enjoying the smell of him as it envelopes you.

immediately sensing your shaky breathing, oscar pulls back slightly. “hey, what’s wrong?” he asks gently. “i thought you’d be happy to see me?”

“i am!” you immediately assure him. “i’m so happy to see you, oscar. i just-“ you hesitate for a moment and he looks down at you with a frown. “i just had a terrible day.” you sigh.

“why? what happened?” his voice is filled with so much concern and seeing his face looking down at you with so much love and care is exactly what it takes for you to finally break.

“everything just went wrong.” tears spill over as you collapse in his arms, the stress of the day pouring out as you sob into his chest, clutching his shirt.

oscar just holds you close, his hand softly stroking your hair in an attempt to soothe you.

“shh, it’s okay. i’m here,” he whispers, his voice a calming balm to your frayed nerves. keeping you wrapped firmly in his embrace, he guides you inside, shutting the door behind you and leading you to the couch.

he sits himself beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and letting you lean into him.

“tell me what happened,” he murmurs, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back.

you take a shaky breath as you snuggle even closer to him, sitting practically on his lap as you quietly begin to recount your day. the frustration and disappointment spills out while oscar just listens patiently, his presence working to ground you.

when you finally finish your story, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. “i’m so sorry you had such a rough day,” he says softly. “i wish i could have done something to stop it.”

“it’s not your fault,” you murmur in reply, voice muffled by the way you’ve pressed your face into his chest again. you just want oscar’s warmth and understanding to envelop you, a safe haven after the storm.

he senses that you just need him to hold you, and he’s more than happy to comply. as you sit there in his comforting embrace, you feel the weight of the day lifting, replaced by the soothing reassurance of his love and care.

and you realise something: as long as you have oscar to come home to, no day can be a total disaster.