#i have abandoned formula one for years

[jarrodsbowen]

lew lew ham ham !!!

[lovemomhatepolice]

inCHident - charles leclerc

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pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: drunk! reader and Kelly, English is my second language!

type: fluff (funny? i hope so)

word count: 1k

summary: there is nothing funnier than you and your good friend Kelly Piquet, with whom you imitate your partners after alcohol and their famous action of 11 years ago...

more content: formula 1 masterlist, charles leclerc masterlist, max verstappen masterlist

“You know what?” You laughed, uncertainly walking down the stairs hand in hand with your boyfriend Charles.

“I'm listening to you, baby,” the man replied, holding you carefully by the elbow and waist.

Your head was spinning. The amount of alcohol on that day probably overcame you too much, or at least at that moment. Partying with Formula One drivers after races was something you loved. That atmosphere, that closeness of everyone together, the successful partying… well, and your beloved girls who proudly stood by their boyfriends as you did.

“You're a good boy,” you grinned, squeezing his hand. “Really, I've never had a better one in my life.”

Charles giggled under his breath, well aware of your condition. Ay, it wasn't the first time he'd seen you in it, and it probably wouldn't be the last either.

“Well, in that case I'm glad,” he replied, helping you up the last flight of stairs at Max and Kelly's temporary lodging for this trip.

That's where the two of you held your after-party after a good partying at the club. You didn't often do this, as mostly everyone was already tired after the fun at the first place, but today quite a few of you still had a lot of energy in you and you definitely couldn't let it go.

“But really Charles.” you said, stopping in front of the stairs.

You were then standing in a place somewhat isolated from the room where all the rest who had come with you were sitting. They were not all drivers, on the contrary, you ended up with about ten people. The rest simply let go of further fun and either returned by plane to their homes or to their hotel rooms.

That's why hardly anyone could catch the fact that you managed the “bathroom” task, which earlier caused a lot of laughter. Leclerc just didn't want to let you go up the stairs alone, and heck knows - you could still fall down them in those heels.

“Really what?” he laughed, grabbing you by the waist the moment you threw your arms around his neck.

“You really are a good boyfriend. If it wasn't for you, I probably would have peed there, it was a must,” you whispered in his ear as if it were a secret, which brought a smile to his face.

“Mhm” he muttered, stroking your hips through the thin material of your dress.

You moved closer to him and kissed him lightly, grinning into his mouth at the same time. However, you were soon interrupted by a shout from Kelly, who, unbeknownst to you, suddenly jumped out from around the corner.

“[Y.N] I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN A LONG TIME!!!”.

You quickly turned around, abandoning your boyfriend's embrace, and threw yourself into the arms of the brunette, who stood behind you with her arms spread out. The hallway was filled with your squeals.

“Kelly, how I love you! You are so beautiful today, what am I saying? You are beautiful every day,” you replied, giggling.

You and the girl moved towards the living room and sat close to each other on the couch. Charles moved behind you, however, sat on the armchair next to you. He was well aware that he didn't even have a lift at that moment, when you continued to be giggling and in each other's embrace.

Everyone in the room was listening to some story by Lando, who was telling it with great passion, but you were in your own world. You whispered something in each other's ear, burst out laughing afterwards, paid each other compliments, and much more. It did not even cross your mind that Max was not in the room. You only found out when he entered the living room in a down jacket and looked at you and Kelly with a surprised look.

“Max, what happened?” asked Oscar, giggling under his breath at the sight of Verstappen.

Max shrugged off his jacket, depositing it on the couch behind you, making the brunette hiss from the touch of cold on her warm skin.

“I thought she went out...” the man began, but was not given the chance to finish, as he was interrupted by his girlfriend.

“NO, HE'S JUST UNFAIR,” she began to say loudly, grabbing your hand, which you quickly picked up on. You loved to laugh at your boyfriends. "I'm leading, he want to pass, he push me, I push him back and after he push me off the track. JUST NOT FAIR"

"Thank you, thank you Max" you replied, pretending to hold the microphone.

A volley of laughter went throughout the living room, and you could feel Lando's phone pulled out on you, which was most likely recording you, but you didn't pay much remark to it. So did Charles, who measured you with his eyes as intensely as Max did.

Kelly rose on the couch, catching in her hand the remote control that lay on the coffee table, and pressed it to her lips, sitting cross-legged. The girl tilted her head toward you and raised her eyebrows slightly, lending authenticity to the “interview.”

“Charles. What's happend with emm Max?" She asked and put the remote control to your lips, encouraging you to use it, like a real microphone.

You looked at Max, who was standing behind his girlfriend with a disbelieving face, and burst out laughing, but quickly stepped into your role again and put on a serious face. Just like fifteen-year-old Charles, giving an interview at the time.

"Nothing, just an inCHident... on the race" You replied, shaking your head in a familiar way.

“I think I just cried,” replied Lando, choking back his own laughter and wiping away the tears that really did trickle from his eyes.

Everyone in the living room laughed, including you and Kelly. Well, okay, maybe not everyone. Max and Charles looked at each other in disbelief, time and again shifting their gaze to you.

“I can't believe it's been twelve years and people continue to remind us of this,” muttered Charles, trying to break through the loud laughter and applause in the room.

All he got in response was a pat on the shoulder from Max, who took the seat next to him, and they both looked at the rest of their friends, wondering where in their lives they had gone wrong that they had chosen such people...

A/N: please do not copy or translate my work! if you have any issues regarding this please contact me in the messages :)

I hope it brought at least a slight smile to your face. AND what more can I say? happy (but belated) inCHIdent anniversary!

[muxshwriting]

coming home

Max Verstappen x reader

summary: max makes the decision no one thought he actually would. and he made the decision for you || word count: 950 || masterlist

You’re screaming as Max crosses the line. Yes, it’s P5 but it’s a championship secured. The team around you erupts as their dreams come true. There was a huge sense of anticipation as you ran through the pit lane towards parc ferme and towards him. You watch as he jumps out of the car with a weight visibly off his shoulders. He runs towards you, not a glance at anyone else.

“I’m so proud of you!” You’re shouting over the noise of the crowd but Max only hears you.

“I couldn’t have done it without you Schatz. For a second I didn’t think I would.”

“You made it. You won.”

He tears his helmet off, crashing his lips into yours and he finds himself home. The rest of the night is a blur as you watch Max receive his well earned celebrations for a season hard-fought. There’s nothing that could sour yours or his mood as the night burns on and Max goes from interview to interview, waiting for the time he can drink so much he forgets.

“Max, congratulations on the championship win. Would you like to speak about how much this means to you after this year?”

Max rubs a hand through his hair and adjusts his hat, a nervous tick he’d always had as he brought the microphone to his jaw. “Yeah. This championship means a lot because we weren’t sure it was going to happen earlier in the season. Of course it wouldn’t have been possible without my amazing team working so hard to make the car as good as it could be. It’s the people around us who push us to be the best versions of ourselves.”

Max can’t hope to get away sooner, to his team waiting to celebrate and to you. There’s always a choice in the back of his mind that tells him to abandon everything and run for the hills with you. Except this time, with the championship tucked in his belt, he’s not sure what’s stopping him anymore.

The triple header came to a close in Abu Dhabi, Max closing his season out with a glorious win but there’s a feeling in your gut that tells you Max is going to say it. You’d discussed his retirement before, and you’d always tried to persuade him to stick out his contract. You would tell him that you both had time to live your lives after his career. The last thing you wanted was for Max to throw his dream away for you.

A champagne-drenched Max finds you after the podium hiding in his driver’s room. “You’re going to announce it, aren’t you?” You quietly ask, not wanting to ruin the joy but needing an answer.

Max grinned, stripping his race suit from his body. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to me.”

“Then you know I am.”

“Max-“

He calms your worries with a simple declaration. “I love you. I know this is what I want. I’ve had my time, I don’t need anything more than you.”

You bite back the sting of tears and pull Max into a hug, pressing your lips against his.

“Is that a yes?” He whispers to you. “You’re okay with this?”

”Yes. I love you.”

With a kiss to his cheek, you send him to the hounds of journalists in the press conference and promise you’ll be right here when he’s done. It takes a moment for the right time to arise but when Max is asked a question about his hopes for the future, he only knows one answer.

“The future? My future? I’m retiring from formula one... effective immediately. I will be taking no more questions at this time. Thank you.”

And with that, Max put down his microphone. He stood and carefully removed his red bull hat and took a moment to simply look before he placed it where he had been sitting. He ignored the journalists practically screaming at him and the cameras that sounded like static. Without a word, he walked out of the door and promised himself he would never return.

The second he walks out of the door, your arms are wrapped around him and he falls into your embrace. Your words flow through him without being absorbed as he remembers and realises exactly what he’s done. A part of him will miss this life but most of his heart is grateful he stopped before it consumed his very being.

He had proved himself, set records for the ages and done what any formula one driver aims to do: win championships. Was it so unfair to want a different life than the one he had grown into? Was it so unfair to want that perfect family with a beachfront penthouse in Monaco or even a country home in the Netherlands? A house that always had spare bedrooms for guests to drop by, a house with love radiating from its walls and beauty running through it’s floors. Was it so unfair to want that before life slipped past him and he was a 40-year-old driving for a bottom ranking team trying to keep the dream alive?

But Max had a different dream now, a dream nothing could stop him from achieving.

Four years later, that dream is most certainly in progress as you sit in the window of that Dutch country home watching Max as he runs after your eldest daughter. There’s a babe in your arms and a feeling that nothing will ever be as perfect as this. There have been no regrets about leaving racing and no regrets about leaving that whole world behind.

Who knows what the future will bring? That’s the best part, it’s your future.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Finish Line || LS2

Summary: A farewell fic to Logan because I'm a sookie and miss him already. Pairing: Logan Sargeant x fem!reader (living in America) WC: 4k

Summer Break 2021

Your mother always said, “Nothing good is easy and nothing easy is good.” To an eighteen year old fresh out of high school you thought she was referring to studying and exam results, not the more impactful experiences you would face once the red brick walls were left in the rear view mirror. 

It would only take a matter of weeks to learn the real meaning.

Loving Logan wasn’t easy but it was impossible to stop the feeling of falling that came soon after meeting him. From the moment you met there was an indescribable connection but the paths of your future were heading in completely different directions and you knew at the end of summer you would say your goodbyes.

In the meantime you would enjoy what the weather had to offer and what better way to emancipate yourself from the innocence of youth and broadcast to the world that you were an adult than a girls road trip to Miami? You may not have been old enough to drink but that didn’t stop the college guys on summer vacation from keeping you and your friends well supplied. 

Looking back, it only proved how young and naive you were. 

“Dalt, I really shouldn’t be here,” Logan complained as a red cup was thrust into his hand. “I could get in so much trouble for this.”

“Relax, bro, you’ll be fine.” His older brother clapped him on the back happily. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The beach house was right on the waterfront and Logan stepped out onto the white sand to dip his toes in the warm water. He didn’t know who’s family the place belonged to but Dalton seemed to know everyone by name. It only made him feel even more left out and he thought maybe he should have just stayed in England for the summer break. 

The house was stifling with the humid temperatures compounding to a sauna with all the bodies inside. The beer had started off cool but it had warmed in your hands and began to taste disgusting so you abandoned it into the hands of a stranger passing by who swiftly chugged it back before shouting the Greek alphabet you assumed was the name of his frat house. You had certainly bitten off more than you could chew and debated catching a Greyhound bus home where you felt safe but you wouldn’t ditch your friends who were absolutely in their element.

The beach wasn’t like any you had seen before arriving in Miami. The sand bars were tiny pockets of islands and each property seemed to be its own space divided by narrow canals that lead to dry docks for their expensive boats. 

“Mind if I join you?” you asked the stranger who sat in the sand at the water's edge. It was impossible to ignore each other’s presence when the rising tide had left such little space.

“It’s a free country,” he said with a small smile, his palm quickly swiping away the picture he had drawn in the sand. 

“I don’t know about that. Sometimes it feels like a prison. Sorry, that was really morbid.”

He laughed and tipped his head back to the sun that still beat down despite being late in the afternoon. “You’re not wrong though. I love coming home, but sometimes I’m glad I don’t live here anymore. I don’t know how to fit in with that,” he said looking back at drunken revelers who had stripped down to their swimwear despite having no inclination to actually enter the water. 

He looked like the rest of the guys there: tanned skin over a toned body and dirty blonde hair hidden by a cap he wore backwards. The southern drawl also confirmed the fact he called this place home. 

“Where do you fit in then?”

His shoulders shrugged as he picked at a desiccated chain of Neptune’s necklace that had washed up on the beach. He busied himself with plucking each individual bead off the seaweed and flicking it back to the water. “I don’t know.”

“Okay, well, what did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“A Formula One racing driver, or a fisherman.”

You buried your toes in the sand, wiggling them to dig deeper where it was cooler. “I thought the all-american dream was to be an astronaut?”

You met his blue eyes and saw the amusement that sparkled in them. “I’m afraid of heights,” he admitted with a grin before he held out his hand. “I’m Logan.”

“I think we are beyond names here, I already know your hopes and dreams,” you teased, shaking his hand. 

“But I don’t know yours, yet.”

“I can give you my name, but as for hopes and dreams, I have no idea what I want to be. I’m still trying to figure that out.” You realised his hand was still in yours and gave it another small shake. “I’m Y/N.”

As the sun fell below the horizon the party grew larger and soon it spilled into the slice of paradise you had carved out with Logan. Sand was kicked up as two guys tackled each other to the ground and Logan threw a protective arm around you before they could crash into your side.

“Back it up bro,” he said as he rose to his feet and pulled you up too, tucking you in behind his back. “You could have hurt somebody.”

“Aw, Sargeant, is that your girlfriend?”

Logan ignored them and turned to check you were alright. His eyes scanned over your body and slowed on their ascent before he cleared his throat and met your eyes again. “Do you want to get out of here?”

You scanned the crowd and spotted two of your friends dancing and the other sat on some guy's lap, smiles on all their faces. You couldn’t disappear and make them worry but you didn’t want to stay as the party only grew more chaotic. “Yes, please, I’ll just tell my friends I’m leaving.”

You weren’t going to attempt to get amongst the gyrating bodies so instead headed to Dakota. The guy sitting beneath her noticed your arrival first and grinned at Logan as he stepped in beside you, his hand resting on the small of your back. “You’re leaving aren’t you? Well, you lasted longer than I thought you would.”

“You two know each other?” you asked. 

“Only since birth,” Logan answered. “This is my brother, Dalton. Dalton, this is Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said before turning your attention to your friend. “I’m going to head off, Kote. Logan said he can drop me off at the apartment after dinner.”

“Are you sure? I can take you back if you want.”

You laughed and leaned into Logan, enjoying the warmth that came as his arm curled around your waist. “I’m good, someone needs to make sure those two get back.”

You both looked at the twins who had found dance partners and knew the rented 4 bedroom apartment was probably going to double in residents by morning. With a resigned sigh that she didn’t really feel as the group mother, Dakota nodded. “I’ve got them, you two have fun.”

The wink she sent you off with made your cheeks heat but you hadn’t actually planned on doing what the action implied. Of course Logan was attractive, and the thought of taking him to your bedroom was one that had you melting, but you were quite happy just enjoying his company too. 

“Are you hungry? I know this great spot but it’s a bit of a drive from here.”

Out in the street where the sounds of the thumping bass couldn’t reach your stomach rumbled and you smiled sheepishly. “Just a little.”

The restaurant he knew was on Key Largo, about an hour south of where the party was in Miami Beach and you were amazed by how many bridges had been built to connect the keys. It would have felt a bit scary driving over the ocean if it wasn’t for Logan recounting stories of growing up in the state. It was a good distraction to listen to the fondness in his tone as he remembered fishing off the now-closed piers that he pointed out. 

“I think this is where you fit in,” you said as he cruised along the highway in his pickup truck, the radio quietly playing an RnB station in the background. It was warm enough that the window was down and the breeze blew his hair back like a runway model.

He glanced across the car and lifted a questionable brow. “In Florida?”

“No! Behind the wheel. You look, I don’t know, comfortable? No, content, that’s the word.” 

On the beach Logan had shared how he was halfway through the season of Formula 3 in Europe and had hopes to join an F1 team in the future. It was also when he mentioned returning to the country he currently lived in, four thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean. Despite only just meeting him, you felt the four week countdown arriving like a dark storm cloud.

Those four weeks flew by almost as quickly as you fell in love. 

Summer Break 2024

The soy milk screeched and you winced at the sound before saving the new girl, and the coffee, from the machine. Thankfully it wasn’t scorched as the shop was already full with the busy morning foot-traffic and you wanted to keep it flowing for the customer’s sake. 

“Soy latte with a shot of hazelnut?” A hand went up and you passed the takeaway cup over. “Have a nice day.”

You looked at the next order stuck to the bench and immediately searched for the customer, a smile splitting your face when you found him. “Baby, you’re home! Why didn’t you call?”

Logan ducked under the staff counter and met your embrace with strong arms that pulled you to your tiptoes. “I called, but you must have been busy here. God, it’s good to see you, sweetheart.”

You checked your phone in the pocket of your apron and saw the missed call before slipping it over your head. “Marie, can you keep an eye on everything?”

“Yeah, course, hun, take your time,” the part time barista said with a wave. “Welcome home, Logan.”

“Thank you.” 

You dragged Logan eagerly through the swing door that stated ‘staff only’ and past the break room to the disused office at the back. “I’ve missed you so much,” you managed to say between the desperate kisses you shared as he kicked your door closed. 

“Missed you too.”

Your hands reached beneath his shirt and he chuckled breathlessly as he caught them before they could move any further. “Tempting, sweetheart, but not here.”

You pouted as you draped your arms around his neck instead and held him tight. “I have the studio booked in 20 minutes, did you want to come?”

Logan rolled his eyes at the stupid question and didn’t bother to answer as he tucked his hands into the back of your jeans and buried his face in your hair. “You smell like blueberry muffins,” he hummed happily. 

“I can steal one,” you offered but when you pulled away he quickly pulled you back with a shake of his head.

“Diet.”

You grabbed the flesh on his abdomen, feeling the hard muscle beneath. “You’re perfect, baby, one muffin isn’t going to change that - but it will make you happier. Go grab a seat in the staff room.”

You walked him back down the hall and let him settle into the couch while you grabbed a muffin from the front counter. Most of the rush had quickly cleared and with the lull in orders you made him his favourite drink. 

“You spoil me, sweetheart,” he said with a gratefully smile as you placed the plate and cup on the coffee table. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” You sank into the couch beside him and watched him pick apart the muffin, finding all the blueberries to eat first. He could feel your eyes on his hands as they fiddled with crumbs but before he worked up the courage to explain why he caught a flight two days earlier than planned. “What’s going on, baby?”

He exhaled a heavy sigh and wiped his hands clean before taking yours. “I think it’s over.”

Your heart cleaved apart and your ears started ringing as your world came crashing down. There was only one semester left in your art programme before all the plans the two of you made would come to life - plans that started with moving to England with Logan. Plans that were crumbling down.

“It’s over?” you repeated as silent tears streaked your face and your hands slipped from his.

Horror bled into Logan’s features and he snatched your hands back, placing them over his chest where his heart beat rapidly with panic. “Not us, never us,” he rushed with a harsh shake of his head. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are my everything.”

You sagged with relief as he wiped your eyes but the relief was short lived as you understood what he meant and the phantom pain in your chest returned. “Have you spoken to James?”

He nodded and leaned into your touch as your palms ran up his chest to cradle his face. “It’s not good.”

To hear the defeat in his voice was something you never wished to hear again. It was a sound that no 23 year old should make, he was too young to feel the immense pressure he was under and a weaker man would have been broken by it. But Logan was strong, mentally and physically - he would recover from this, you would make sure of it.

“Come on,” you whispered as you rose to your feet and tugged his hands. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home.”

“But you have class.”

You grabbed your handbag from your locker and tossed him the car keys. “This is more important, and I can paint anywhere.”

—

The drive to Miami took most of the day and the frown on Logan’s forehead seemed to soften as the arid air turned humid and the paddocks turned to swamp before he sped through Alligator Alley. The top 40 charts played quietly on the radio and Logan hummed along with the ones he liked while he held your hand on your thigh. 

A contented sigh of relief exhaled from deep in Logan’s chest as the sunset and the city lights illuminated the horizon. Though he was tired to his bones, just the sight of his home was enough to rejuvenate him and he sat up a little straighter before taking the exit that would lead him to Fort Lauderdale. 

Madelyn and Daniel were already expecting Logan and the front door opened before he could turn the engine off. It had been a while since they last had Logan home and you felt a little guilty since most of his returns to home soil were to visit you instead, but they didn’t hold it against you. Madelyn was just happy that there was someone who loved and supported Logan as much as she did.  

It was immediately clear that she wasn’t aware of his current struggles as you saw him hide behind a confident smile as she asked how everything was going. 

“I don’t want to disappoint them,” he admitted as he closed his bedroom door after dinner. 

You placed your bag on the floor and took a seat at the headboard before patting the spot beside you. Logan flopped down on the bed and rested his head on your thighs while his long legs hung over the edge, looking up as if you had all the answers. 

“You could never disappoint them, Lo, they just want you to be happy. And, you're worrying about things that haven’t even come to pass. We don’t know what the second half of the season will bring.”

“I know you are being reasonable, but I can’t help thinking this is the end. Everyone else thinks so too.”

“You mean everyone on X, formally known as twitter,” you said with a roll of your eyes that made him chuckle. “How about no social media for the whole break? Just disconnect from it all for four weeks.”

“And what happens at the end of the break?” he asked quietly, sensing deja vu from the last time he asked this three years ago. It was an eerily similar state too with his head on your legs but you were on the white sands instead of a bed. You had already fallen in love but he was due to fly back to Europe and you would be getting in the car with your friends and heading home. He had forever changed you that summer.

You combed your fingers through his hair as you relived the same memory. “We will be grateful for the time we had together.”

A smile tugged at his lips and he sat up so he could pull you onto his lap. “I’m not letting you go again.”

“I should hope not,” you stated as your knees settled either side of his thighs and you reached into his pocket to fish his phone out. “Now say goodbye to this, I am having you all to myself.”

He plucked the phone from your fingers and tossed it to the side table before putting all those glorious muscles to good use. The room spun until he caged your body beneath his and he gently kissed his way across your collarbone. “You already have me, sweetheart.”

–

A sick twisting feeling gripped your gut as you waved goodbye to Logan through misted eyes. No matter what you had said, you could feel his stress growing as the break came to an end and now he was going back alone. You wished you could go with him.

The drive back to your apartment was too quiet but you couldn’t listen to the radio because the songs he would have hummed to would only make you miss him more. It always took days, weeks even, to reacclimate yourself to the loss of his presence when he left. It never got easier but the memories made were worth it.

The days dragged by as classes began again and the repetitive routine of life was reestablished. Finally it was the weekend and you could curl up on the couch and watch Logan’s practice on F1TV while you were surrounded by paintings of him. There were two new additions that had come back from Miami, one capturing his happiness as he reeled in a bluefish and the other capturing his perfect features as he sunbathed shirtless, that one was purely indulgent.

“Oh no, Sargeant has taken a big shunt into the barriers there.”

Your feet slammed to the floor as you jumped out of your seat and stumbled closer to the tv as if you could reach through it and help, but you were helpless to watch as Logan remained in the car in the middle of the track - red flags waving. 

“Come on, baby, get out of there,” you begged as you heard his radio saying he was okay, but then the back of the car ignited into flame. You were screaming for him to get out as George’s car rolled by, his hands gesturing wildly for Logan to get out too before he finally was free of the seat harness and jumping out over the halo. 

You finally breathed a sigh of relief but it didn’t last as the camera cut to Logan leaning on the barriers, his head hung in defeat despite the helmet hiding his face. You knew your boyfriend better than anyone, you knew exactly what was going on inside his head and you knew you had to do something.

The credit card Logan had given you years ago had been left discarded in the back of your underwear drawer. He said it was for you to use but you had never been with him for the money and even as a broke uni student you hadn’t used it once. But this was an emergency, and if you were ever going to use it then you could be damn sure it was going to be spent on him.

One quick email was sent to your professor begging for an extension due to a family emergency before you packed a bag and booked the first flight out to Amsterdam.

With shaking hands you typed a message: I’m so glad you got out of there, baby. I’m on my way and I love you so much xxx

You knew he wouldn’t be able to reply for a little while since he would have to get back to the team garage, and there would be other responsibilities first like having a medical check and debrief, but you sent it anyway along with the flight numbers so he knew where you would be and when. It was going to be a long day with the 13 hours of flights plus the change in timezone but nothing was going to keep you from getting to Logan before the race tomorrow.

–

A stranger with a whiteboard greeted you at the airport and the exhaustion of the trip faded away when you reached the paddock with a pass in hand and stepped into the Williams garage. Bodies of mechanics moved in sync as they rushed around the car preparing it for the race that was due to start in a few short hours but it was one man that was standing among them that drew you closer. 

“Lo,” you greeted softly behind him on raised tiptoes. 

A wide smile split his face as he turned to embrace you, lifting your feet off the ground as he buried his face in your neck. “Hellow, sweetheart,” he breathed against your skin before inhaling the familiar scent of your perfume. 

Your hands tightened on his waist as he pressed a kiss to your temple. “Are you okay?”

He pulled back and his smile faltered. “I’m better now that you’re here.” 

You reached up to trace the curve of his cheek where his smile had been but his team principal called his name before you could feel the shadow of his beard on your palm. “Can I borrow you for a minute?” he asked Logan before spotting you, a flicker of surprise on his face. “Hello, Y/N, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“You too, James,” you replied politely before stepping out of Logan’s arms and giving him a little nudge in the right direction. “I’ll wait over in hospitality.”

Logan spent what time he could with you, reassured by the feel of your arms wrapped around his neck and your cheek pressed to his as you sat on his lap in the single chair that furnished his driver room. The thin walls did little to dampen the noise of the motorhome and the crowd beyond but for a few minutes Logan could forget it all and the pressure that came with it - until the clock ticked away the precious minutes alone and reality returned.

“I have to score a point today,” he whispered like he was confessing a sin and he tipped his head back to stare at the roof. “No point, no seat. That's the deal.”

“Can they do that with your contract?”

“They can do whatever they want, sweetheart. I’m lucky they let me go this long without contributing.”

You cupped his face and tipped it forward so he was forced to look you in the eyes. “There are more ways to contribute to the team than just scoring points. You spend hours in the simulator every week so they can get their precious data.”

“And then I go and cost them $250k when I crash,” he laughed humorlessly and dropped his forehead to yours. “I think this is it. I’m tired and it’s so hard to enjoy it now. That’s the worst part out of all of it. I used to like my job, it was all I wanted to do.”

Your thumbs caught the tears that clung to his lower lashes. “What do you want now?”

“I honestly have no idea, I just know I want to be wherever you are.”

A knock at the door interrupted the promise you were going to make and someone in a William’s shirt said it was time to head back to the garage before ducking back out of the room.

“I love you” you whispered between the kisses you traced across the bow of his lips. “I want you to go out there today and forget James and points and all that stuff and just enjoy the race. I have watched you give everything to this team but today I want you to be selfish, okay? Enjoy it out there or it’s all for nothing, no matter the outcome. And when you get out of that car I will be waiting for you, arms wide open.”

Logan closed his eyes and exhaled a shuddering breath before he captured your lips in a passionate kiss that left you both breathless. Resolute and proud, he stood up and placed you on his feet before grabbing his cap and slapping it on his head. “I’ll see you at the finish line.”

[mariclerc]

An unexpected role | cl16

Summary: You revealed your little secret to your date, you didn't expect he would take it so well.

Warning: fluffy Charles, step dad!Charles, some tears while storytelling.

a/n: This is a little long story, but I hope you like it! Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

You never thought you'd go back to dating after the way your last relationship ended, which wasn't in a pleasant way... But here you were, in a coffee shop with a guy who was a known friend to your bestie, Lola, what seemed strange to you is that you never heard her talk about him... And obviously she hardly talked about him, since he is a racing driver.

To your surprise the date was going very well, you seemed to be in a fairy tale or something similar, you had a good feeling in your chest and it had been a long time since you had felt that way with someone.

“But I'm done talking about myself... Tell me more about yourself” He said while giving you a little smile, he told you about his races and that seemed very interesting to you, you used to be a Formula One fan when you were a little girl you watched the races with your father.

You let out a small sigh. "About me? I don't know what you would like to know about me, I don't think I have a very interesting life compared to yours.”

He denied while smiling. “You can tell me anything about yourself and I will find it very interesting.”

As if by fate, your cell phone, which was on the table, turned on showing a message from Lola, she was taking care of your little two-year-old girl Lily. The message said: “She just wanted to send her mama some kisses 😘” maybe she sent you a gif of your little daughter blowing kisses at the camera... You smiled a little when you saw the notification, what you didn't realize was the look of a certain green-eyed Monegasque who was also looking at the screen with curiosity.

“Um... Tell me you didn't see my screen, did you?” you said a little fearfully.

“I'll just tell you that I saw what was necessary... But now I am curious to know who that person is who sent you kisses” He tilted his head a little. “Do you have someone waiting for you at home?”

You took a breath, this wasn't the way you wanted him to know. “Actually... Yes, I have a little person waiting for me at home.”

You took courage and spoke again. “This wasn’t the way I wanted to tell you this, but,” you said with trembling hands. “I'm a single mom.”

You narrowed your eyes, expecting the worst possible reaction, perhaps he would get up from the table and leave without wanting to know more about you for the rest of his life, but you didn't expect his hand to rest on yours in a gesture that filled your heart.

“Wow... That's unexpected, but... Wow, I don't know what to say.” He said while giving you a loving look. “I don't want to sound nosy but you do have an interesting life.”

“Yes, well, dealing with a two-year-old little girl is not easy at all... But I wouldn't change it for anything.”

“Tell me about her… About you two actually.”

Just saying those words was enough to turn you into a first-rate chatterbox, you told him everything about you and Lily, the rollercoaster of emotions with pregnancy, the appointments to the gynecologist, the day she was born and so on, you practically spat out all the information there was and could be about the two of you. But his look of adoration and care did not leave his face, he listened attentively to every word you said to him, it was as if he were collecting data for the future? You didn't know exactly.

“Oh wow, that's totally amazing.” He said while having a small smile on his face. “I noticed you didn't mention her father, did something happen between you? If you don't want to answer, that's fine! I understand, there's no problem at all.”

You sighed again, there were few people who knew what happened between you and your ex, maybe telling him won't hurt.

“Well... He abandoned me when I told him I was pregnant, our relationship lasted almost two years, but when I told him the news, he left but without leaving me a nice little gift, a good blow on the cheek.” You said while chuckled. “And on top of that, my family didn't take the news very well either, they told me such hurtful things that made me feel unprotected and hurt by the people I least expected.” You said as you sobbed a little. “But hey, these are things that happen, right?” You said as you dried a few tears with your hand, but they kept coming, one of his hands rested on your face to dry your tears with his thumb and you smiled weakly.

“Oh God, I'm very sorry, I didn't imagine such a thing would have happened to you... But you are very brave and it shows, well, from what you tell me, that you do what is best for your little Lily." He said and your eyes crystalized again, you wanted to hug him, nobody had never said those beautiful words to you.

“Thank you Charles... I have never been told anything as nice as that.” You whispered.

“It's nothing, pretty. Now you will hear them more often.” He smiled as he winked and you giggled, apparently this date is going to lead to something very precious.

-

“Honey, stay calm baby, mama is trying to comb your hair.” You said as you tried to make Lily's pigtails, but she was a little restless today, excited perhaps.

You had been talking to Charles after that date, and now two weeks after that he is going to meet little Lily, he is taking you both to an ice cream parlor. You had been sending him pictures of her and so on, you talked about everything and at the same time about nothing, it was like an instant connection and that for you was fascinating, considering that he didn't run away from you when you told him everything you experienced with your daughter.

The sound of your apartment's doorbell distracted you, luckily you managed to do your little girl's hair in time.

“Let's see who's waiting for us at the door, little princess.” You said and took her hand, when you opened the door Charles was there with a shy smile and in his hands he had a bouquet of daisies and a little bag.

“Hi cutie” He said with some tenderness and smiled. “Uhm... These are for you... I saw them and I remembered you, I don't know why, maybe because they are pretty like you.” He smiled and extended the bouquet of daisies to you.

“You didn't have to do it Charles," You said as you placed them in a vase of water. “My love, meet a friend, his name is Charles… Say hello darling.” You said to Lily, who was hiding behind your legs.

“H..hi!” Lily stammered, she talks a little, although sometimes she tends to be a non-stop chatterbox, but she's adorable.

“But it's the popular Lily! Your mama has told me a lot about you.” He said with a smile as he crouched down to be level with her. “Look, I brought you something.” He said as he took out a bunny stuffed animal from the bag, Lily's eyes lit up at the presence of the stuffed animal.

“Bunny!” She said as she stretched out her little hands towards the little stuffed animal and took it from Charles's hands.

“How do you say, honey?” You emphasized.

“Thank... You” She said while babbling between laughs, Charles gave her a little smile and a small kiss on her forehead, you can swear that when you saw that your heart melted completely.

“It's nothing little princess!” He said as he looked at you and smiled. “Okay, shall we go? Those ice creams are waiting for us!” He said in an animated tone earning a small jump from Lily. If this were a competition, he would already be ahead by a long shot.

-

After going for ice cream and going to the park for a while, sleep began to take over Lily, both you and she had spent a very fun day with Charles, it's been a long time since you had such a good time, with her you always do your best to do something fun between the two of you.

“Mama... Swleep” She said adorably as she snuggled up next to you.

“Don't worry little one, Charlie is going to take us home, you will soon be sleeping comfortably in your bed." You said as you smiled at your little girl, you turned your head and saw the green-eyed boy smiling as he took your hand.

Sooner than expected you found yourself at the door of your building while trying to lift Lily out of the car.

“Leave it to me, I’ll help you with Lily.” He said and he carefully took Lily from your arms and carried her against his shoulder.

You noticed how natural the scene was and how incredibly comfortable Lily was in his arms, you smiled. Only Lola did those things to help you get out of somewhere with Lily, but seeing him with her in his arms gave you a feeling of familiarity in your chest.

You entered the building and took the elevator until you reached your apartment, when you entered he gave you Lily again and you took her to her room to put her pajamas on, he looked at you tenderly from the door frame, it's incredible how he won Lily's affection so quickly.

“You are ready to dream, little miss!” You said as you placed kisses on her face and she giggled while holding the stuffed bunny that Charles had given her earlier.

“Chas! Chas! Bed!” She said a little enthusiastically towards Charles, your time to tell her a story was approaching.

He approached her bed and she smiled and then you started telling her the respective bedtime story. At the end of telling her the story, you approached her and kissed her goodnight.

“Good night my sunshine! I love you so much” you said as you gave her a kiss and she smiled.

“Chas!” she said towards Charles and he smiled.

“Good night little one! I loved being with you and your mama today.” He said while he gave her a kiss on the forehead and caressed her head.

“Morrow chas?” She asked as she looked at him sleepily.

He smiled and looked at you tenderly, as if he was asking permission or something.

“Only if your mama agrees, darling.” He said and smiled a little.

You sighed and smiled. “It's okay sunshine, Charlie can come tomorrow.”

After saying that she smiled again and you two left the room closing the door behind you, you sighed a little and smiled at him.

“Thank you for this nice evening Charles,” you whispered. “You didn't have to came here and...”

You didn't finish speaking when you felt his lips on yours, it was an unexpected but amazing action in a way. Was it something that was going to happen? Yes, but you didn't expect it to be so soon, maybe he also felt the connection between the three of you.

“I'm not lying to you if I tell you that I want this every day, I mean... I want to go out with you to the most childish place of all, I want to have breakfast with you, play dolls with Lily, be your supporter and your rock.” He said in a whisper. “And I know it's an unexpected role in your lives, but I would really like this... I don't know if you also want the same thing.”

You nodded, you wanted this too, for the first time you felt seen, you felt like someone was listening to you and little Lily and that's something important for you two, because at the end of it all, he was going to gracefully take on the most unexpected role of all... And who knew that a date with your bestie's friend would go so well.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

6 Writing Tips from John Steinbeck

Pulitzer Prize winner and Nobel laureate John Steinbeck's (February 27, 1902–December 20, 1968) tips on writing, originally set down in a 1962 letter to the actor and writer Robert Wallsten, which was included in Steinbeck: A Life in Letters

Abandon the idea that you are ever going to finish. Lose track of the 400 pages and write just one page for each day, it helps. Then when it gets finished, you are always surprised.

Write freely and as rapidly as possible and throw the whole thing on paper. Never correct or rewrite until the whole thing is down. Rewrite in process is usually found to be an excuse for not going on. It also interferes with flow and rhythm which can only come from a kind of unconscious association with the material.

Forget your generalized audience. In the first place, the nameless, faceless audience will scare you to death and in the second place, unlike the theater, it doesn’t exist. In writing, your audience is one single reader. I have found that sometimes it helps to pick out one person—a real person you know, or an imagined person and write to that one.

If a scene or a section gets the better of you and you still think you want it—bypass it and go on. When you have finished the whole you can come back to it and then you may find that the reason it gave trouble is because it didn’t belong there.

Beware of a scene that becomes too dear to you, dearer than the rest. It will usually be found that it is out of drawing.

If you are using dialogue—say it aloud as you write it. Only then will it have the sound of speech.

But perhaps most paradoxically yet poetically, 12 years prior — in 1963, immediately after receiving the Nobel Prize in Literature “for his realistic and imaginative writings, combining as they do sympathetic humour and keen social perception” — Steinbeck issued a thoughtful disclaimer to all such advice:

If there is a magic in story writing, and I am convinced there is, no one has ever been able to reduce it to a recipe that can be passed from one person to another. The formula seems to lie solely in the aching urge of the writer to convey something he feels important to the reader. If the writer has that urge, he may sometimes, but by no means always, find the way to do it. You must perceive the excellence that makes a good story good or the errors that make a bad story. For a bad story is only an ineffective story.

[maxlarens]

1 + logan

1) touching foreheads

You probably shouldn’t be doing this.

Logan is your coworker— your boss in some sense. If someone else got wind of this you’d be in deep shit, you’d probably lose your job, or at least get a formal warning. But you’re not sure what the fuck else you’re supposed to do. How are you supposed to ignore him?

He’s not even in his driver’s room, he’s squatting around the back of Williams hospitality by the fucking trash bins. His head in his hands like something terrible has just happened to him—

and it has. It has.

Williams performance as a whole would be demoralising if you cared. If you were paid an adequate amount for the experience that you bring to the role. Alex routinely can’t get higher than a P15, James is constantly going on live television to tell people that the car is fourteen kilos overweight and Logan hasn’t got through a race without a DNF for months. You’d be depressed if you hadn’t decided that you didn’t care anymore.

You have to decide you don’t care anymore. To preserve your sanity, so you can job hunt and try to get hired by another team in time for next year’s season. Logan doesn’t get that privilege.

Logan is sitting next to a bin with his head in his hands because he cares. Because he can’t stop caring. Because he has to finish this season even if it means DNF after DNF after DNF, even if it means he’s not getting a seat next year. He’s not. You’ve heard James talking, you’ve delivered drafted versions of contracts to other drivers. You’ve heard comments in the hallways, “if he’s not performing, he’s not performing. He’s not cut out for Formula One”. Sometimes, it makes you want to scream— but you remind yourself that you don’t care.

You have no control over it. So what if you like Logan, so what if you believe he could be good if people just gave him a chance? These geriatric old men don’t give a shit what you have to say. They don’t give a shit about Logan either, not anymore.

He’s not crying when you find him hiding behind the motorhome. You think he should be… you certainly would be. After what happened on the track.

“Logan,” you say, gently, softly, like you’re approaching a skittish animal on a highway, “It’s me.”

A beat. Then he lifts his head to look up at you, eyes red-rimmed but not wet, his hair tousled like he’d run his hand through it a hundred times. Sweaty from the balaclava. He’s still in his fireproofs, and his racing suit hanging around his waist, dragging on the floor.

“Oh,” he says, “What’s up? Does someone need me?”

You shake your head, feeling like your heart is going to fall right out of your ass, “No,” you sigh, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he’s saying before the word ‘sorry’ even leaves your mouth, “I was just asking. Saves you the trouble.”

He’s looking at you like he’s the concerned one. Mouth parted, eyebrows knotted together. But you think you might cry. There are tears, wet and hot sitting in your tear ducts and you’re trying so desperately to blink them away. He doesn’t need this, he doesn’t need the pity.

You fucking hate this sport.

Okay, you don’t. You love it. You love the noise of the cars as they pass you on track, you love the politics of it, you love travelling around the world every week, doing your job flawlessly in a new place on two hours of sleep. Sometimes you even love Williams. The desperation of it; driving parts from the airport to the track yourself because it’s cheaper than hiring a courier, fighting tooth and nail just for something as abysmal P18.

You do love it.

You just hate what it’s done to Logan Sargeant.

Swallowed him whole, chewed him up and spit him out onto the pavement.

You abandon your clipboard of tasks. Williams might fall apart without you, but you find that you don’t care. You take half a step and squat next to him, ignoring the way that your heels dig into the skin at your ankles.

“Are you okay?”, you ask, putting a hand hesitantly on his bicep, not sure if it’s okay, not sure if you’ve ever touched him before.

He’s nodding, jaw set into a line, eyes unfocused, “I’m fine. Just need to try harder.”

Your heart goes splat on the ground below you.

He’s leaning into you, pressing into your hand, his body tilted toward you even though he can’t look you in the eyes. You don’t think he notices. He doesn’t say anything but you think it’s fine when you move closer, tiptoeing next to him. Shoulder pressed against his. Your head is almost in the brick wall, but you swivel to face him.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” you breathe into his ear as you press your forehead into his temple, your hand wraps around his shoulders in a haphazard hug.

He shakes his head, practically melting into you. Shifting some of his weight to balance against yours. So you’re holding each other up.

“It’s okay,” he says, “It’s good.”

“You don’t need to try harder,” you say, apropos of nothing, “You’re doing enough, Logan. It’s them. It’s them.”

He’s shaking his head before you can finish your sentence, but he’s got his eyes clenched shut like he’s in pain and he’s leaning, practically falling into you. You’re holding him up— and you’re pressing a chaste kiss to his cheekbone and then you’re pretending that you haven’t because you shouldn’t, because he’s your coworker.

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” you say, but you know that he’s not really hearing you and you know a little more of your love for Formula One is being hacked away at, falling into a churning ocean that is liable to swallow it whole.

[bunny-jpeg]

Peperoni pizza and ghostly cheesecakes with Pepsi zero served by Daniel Ricciardo please and thank you bunny xoxo ❤️

bakery menu - halloween menu

the spooky menu is open until novemeber 2rd! so please feel free to submit an order! there are some new items just for the holidays! thank you so much and i hope your spooky season is extra fun! and don't eat too much candy!! <3

pepperoni pizza: "i wonder if that mascara will run when i'm finished with you." + ghostly cheesecake: "i got a broomstick you can ride on." + pepsi zero: rough sex served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!

tags: smut/pwp, halloween, rough sex, dirty talk, pretzel dip position, very light choking

halloween was quiet in the ricciardo home. you and daniel getting comfortable on the couch to watch a scary movie. but it was hard to focus on jason vs freddy when your boyfriend had his hands up your shirt. his large hands on your breasts.

"i wanna see who win this fight of the century." you giggled as daniel placed kisses against your chest. you arched your back a little as exhaled deeply, "fuck."

he pressed more kisses on your skin and watched you squirm. you looked like a dream as you moved against him. he loved it when you moved against him, when the pleasure was just a little too much for you to handle. such a sensitive little thing. daniel adored you.

"i thought you wanted to watch hocus pocus after." you giggled as you felt his lips on your neck.

"ah well, i got a broomstick you can ride on instead."

the movie was abandoned in the living room as the two of you got into the bedroom. you got your hands under his t-shirt as he held your face while you kissed. his hands felt nice on your face as the kisses grew so deep.

"oh fuck." you sighed, "so much for the movie marathon." you felt his knee between your legs and rub your achy cunt through your black track pants. the thing fabric did very little to prevent the pleasure from coming up your spine.

"we can watch halloween movies all year, beautiful."

"and you can't fuck me all year?" you remarked.

he smiled at you, "that too, but, you know i can't get enough of you. the moment i have my hands on you. i can't stop." he groaned a little as he felt your warmth under him.

you blushed from his words, you felt the course of heat through your soul as you felt his closeness. his hands on you felt incredible as he continued to kiss you. your head started to feel warmth at the edges of your soul.

he pulled away and held you by your jaw, he stared down at you with passion in his gaze. daniel was an enthusiastic, passionate lover. he made sure you never went without pleasure. but his dirty talk left you in shambles. he said to you, "i wonder if that mascara will run when i'm finished with you."

the rest of your clothes were quickly stripped. he had you at your side with your hips turned to him. he slotted himself against you. his hard cock nudged against against your entrance as your thigh draped over him. while it was cowgirl or doggy, he allowed daniel to work your pussy exactly how you wanted. to give you that stretch you craved.

he sank into you and a moan left your lips. he pinned your head down to the covers by your neck and clutched onto your thigh. he could feel you so well, your cunt familiar with him. it made a rush bubble up in his throat.

he was straddled on your thigh with your other thigh around him. he was able to push you further onto the bed as he rocked against you from a different angle. while he loved when you rode him like the cowgirl you were, there was something more intimate about the position (thanks women's health!). he rocked against you. he cock heavy inside of you.

you looked cute when you watched scary movies, you two could go back to watching them later. but for now, he needed you. a deep carnal desire. and as the pleasure washed over you, he saw the wobble of your bottom lip. the feeling growing to become overwhelming as daniel's cock dragged and nudged against your most sensitive areas.

he loved fucking you, he loved to pin you down and fuck you with a hot want. he could see the raccoon eyes of your mascara take form as a few stray tears formed in your eyes. it only turned daniel on further. you looked amazing. he didn't want you sobbing, but to see you so vulnerable excited him. you always excited him.

"next time, i'll take you over the couch. bend you over and fuck you while we watch a slasher movie. hear the movie screams while i fuck you against the couch. we'll see what's louder, the violence or your sweet moans." he said with a wicked grin, "my money is on you. my loud little angel." he continued to thrust against you and it made your stomach twist in the best was possible.

"fuck, danny." you arched your back a little but he kept you further pinned onto the bed. the pleasure felt amazing in your core. you loved how it made you feel. daniel was the kind of force to be reckoned with. he knew how to make you whimper and whine.

he groaned, "that's my girl." he purred as he continued to move, "you drive me crazy all the time. everytime i think about you, i know i have to have you."

you held onto the soft grey covers under you as he moved against you faster. your breasts bounced as the two of you rutted against one another on the soft bed with both shared. you could faintly hear the movie in the background, but were too engrossed with the sight of your lustful boyfriend between your legs.

"pretty doesn't even begin to describe how you look right now. can't stop staring at you, babe." he chuckled as he worked his hips faster against you.

you moaned a little as a few tears slipped down your cheeks. that pretty mascara got all messed up, silly daniel. he continued to fuck you, the pleasure had polluted your brain as he fucked up against you. he always knew how to make you feel so good.

the two of you continued to move against one another. the pleasure began to hit its peak. you felt the tightness in your body as the pleasure raced up and down your spine. it felt amazing.

it didn't take much longer before you held onto the covers tightly and tensed up around your lover. you moaned a little louder as you felt the thump of hot lust in your body. your noises got a bit louder as you felt climax reach you.

"ah, danny!" you whined as you came.

"that's my girl." he groaned as he continued to fuck you. he loved how you felt against him. he thrusted harder into you and watched your body move alongside his movements. he groaned loudly as he felt the tightness of your cunt around his cock.

you tried to form words, but the nothing came out besides a soft moan. daniel held onto you for a moment longer as he slowed to a stop. he looked down at you before he leaned in and kissed you on the mouth. he let go of his loose grip on your throat and you moaned into the kiss.

when he pulled away he wiped your eyes and chuckled, "how about we get the mascara off of you. don't want it to get in your eyes." always the loving boyfriend even when he reduced to tears in the bedroom. he pulled out and got his briefs on before he left the bedroom to grab you make up wipes.

you were left on the bed and laid sprawled out on it. you panted heavily as you tried to compose yourself. he came back and slowly wiped away the make up from your eyes and peppered your cheeks with kisses. daniel couldn't help but get a little handsy as you were cuddled up to him.

"now." he said, "let's get the laptop open and watch the next movie in here. i can't promise we'll finish that one either." he said with a wink. <3

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ white mustang ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢

╰┈➤ cho sang-woo x single!mother!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ you were a single mother raising a four-year-old daughter in the bustling, unforgiving city of seoul. life had not unfolded as you once fantasized it might, instead, it had cornered you into a relentless cycle of poverty and struggle. you had married young, filled with hope and naivety, but those dreams were shattered when your husband abandoned you shortly after you announced your pregnancy. unable to bear the duties of fatherhood, he not only left but also cast you out of the home you once shared, leaving you to fend for yourself and your unborn child.

˚ ༘♡ your own family, steeped in tradition and pride, turned their backs on you as well. they viewed your divorce as a mark of shame, a stain on their honor. the fact that you would raise a child without a father was, in their eyes, an unforgivable disgrace. they refused to take you in, forcing you to seek refuge in whatever options you could find. eventually, you found work as a sales assistant at a small boutique, where the pay was barely enough to scrape by. minimum wage stretched thin over endless expense, formula, rent, utilities, and it quickly became apparent that even the bare necessities were a luxury. in a moment of sheer desperation, you began taking out loans amounting in tens of thousands of won, well aware you could never repay them. the interest piled up as fast as the bills, but the loans kept your daughter fed and clothed, albeit barely. you hated yourself for it, but there were no other choices that didn’t feel impossible.

˚ ༘♡ your home, if it could be called that, was on the less fortunate side of a narrow street lined with aging apartments and cracked sidewalks. the peeling paint and broken railings were a daily reminder of your circumstances. yet, even amidst your despair, you couldn’t help but notice the contrast a few blocks over, a wealthier stretch of the same neighborhood, where sleek cars parked outside magnificent homes and prosperity seemed to flourish. it was during one of your daily walks to the bus stop, your daughter’s tiny hand clutching yours, that you first noticed him.

˚ ༘♡ cho sang-woo. a man who seemed completely out of place in your reality but belonged so effortlessly to the better half of the neighborhood. his polished suits, sharp gaze, and air of quiet confidence spoke of success and power. you didn’t know much about him, only the whispered details you overheard at the local convenience store. he was a former student of seoul university, where he graduated at the top of his class, and he now worked at joy investments, one of the most prestigious firms in the city. he lived in the nicer part of the street, a place that might as well have been a world apart from yours.

˚ ༘♡ for weeks, your paths crossed without words. you would see him on the way to work, his brisk stride purposeful and somehow detached. you’d clutch your daughter’s hand tightly as she skipped beside you, her laughter a rare mirthful mark in your otherwise gray days. sometimes, you wondered if he noticed you at all, or if to him, you were just another melancholic face in the crowd. but there was something in the way his eyes briefly wandered to yours, a swift, barely noticeable moment of acknowledgment, almost imperceptible but not absent.

˚ ༘♡ a month passed without much change. you worked long hours at the boutique, came home to your daughter’s laughter echoing in the small apartment, and fell asleep each night with exhaustion pressing against your chest. spring had arrived, softening the chill in the air and filling the streets with blossoms and a sense of renewal you couldn’t quite feel for yourself. still, you tried to give your daughter a taste of joy, taking her for walks when time allowed, letting her skip along the sidewalks as if the world weren’t so cynical.

˚ ༘♡ one bright afternoon, the kind that made the city’s grime seem almost picturesque, you saw him again. cho sang-woo stood ahead, unmistakable in his dark business suit. the clean lines of his attire and the polished leather of his shoes seemed to set him apart from the bustling, chaotic world around him. his square-rimmed glasses caught the sunlight, and his expression, though composed, held a trace of warmth when he noticed you approaching. he lifted a hand in a brief wave and nodded. “good morning,” he greeted, his tone polite but personable.

˚ ༘♡ you returned his nod with a soft smile, your daughter tugging lightly at your hand. “good morning to you as well, sir,” you replied, your voice calm, though you felt a twinge of surprise that he’d acknowledged you.

˚ ༘♡ your daughter, far less reserved, beamed up at him, her youthful cheer impossible to contain. “hello, sir!” she exclaimed with a giggle, her small voice cutting through the hum of the city.

˚ ༘♡ he stopped in his tracks, the corners of his mouth lifting in a genuine grin. “how old is she?” he asked, his gaze shifting to your daughter, who looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.

˚ ༘♡ “four years old as of last month,” you replied, brushing a hand over her dark hair with a hint of pride you didn’t bother hiding.

˚ ༘♡ he adjusted his glasses, the gesture quick and practiced, before replying, “she’s a clever child. you’re blessed to have her.”

˚ ༘♡ his words, spoken so simply yet with unmistakable sincerity, stirred something in you. “i tell myself that every day,” you said quietly, your fingers tightening gently around your daughter’s small hand.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t seem rushed to leave, lingering as though the conversation mattered more than wherever he was headed. his questions were unintrusive, small talk about the weather, the flowers blooming along the street, and whether you’d been in the neighborhood long. you answered politely, aware of the contrast between his world and yours yet struck by how easily he spoke to you.

˚ ༘♡ after a few minutes, he glanced at his watch, a subtle flare of responsibility returning to his expression. “i’d better get going,” he said, though there was no impatience in his tone. “it was nice talking to you.”

˚ ༘♡ “and to you,” you replied, dipping your head slightly.

˚ ༘♡ he offered your daughter one last smile before walking away, his pace measured, his presence lingering even as he disappeared down the street. you watched him for a moment, then turned back to your daughter, who was already pulling you toward the park.

˚ ༘♡ from that day on, whenever your paths crossed, he made a point to stop and speak with you. at first, the exchanges were brief, a polite inquiry about your day or a comment on how quickly your daughter was growing. but as the weeks passed, the conversations stretched longer, even when his crisp attire and leather briefcase suggested a packed schedule. he would pause, leaning slightly toward you as he spoke, his words carrying a kind of attentiveness you hadn’t encountered in a long time. those encounters, swift as they were, began to carve a small space of solace into the otherwise monotonous routine of your days.

˚ ༘♡ one quiet afternoon, as you were tidying up after a long day, the phone rang. you glanced at the screen and saw sang-woo’s name flashing. you hesitated for a moment, unsure why he was calling, but you picked up. his voice on the other end was casual yet warm. “would you like to grab dinner tonight? nothing fancy, something simple,” he said, his tone friendly enough to put you at ease.

˚ ༘♡ you smiled softly, though he couldn’t see it. “i’d like to, but i can’t leave my daughter home alone,” you replied, your words tinged with regret. her well-being was always your priority, and you weren’t in a position to make exceptions.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t hesitate to reply. “then bring her along,” he insisted without hesitation. “it’ll be fun for all of us, and i couldn’t think of leaving her out.”

˚ ༘♡ his sincerity made it hard to say no. after a brief pause, you agreed, telling him you’d meet him shortly. your daughter, wide-eyed and excited, picked the dinner, a feast of fried chicken and tteokbokki. it wasn’t what you considered a balanced meal, but sang-woo laughed softly when you voiced your concerns. “an occasional indulgence won’t hurt,” he reassured you, his tone effortlessly convincing. “besides, it’s my treat tonight.”

˚ ༘♡ when you arrived at the small, bustling eatery, your daughter clung to your hand while her gaze darted around, taking in the brightly colored menus and the sizzling platters on nearby tables. sang-woo was already seated, waving you over with a welcoming smile that made you feel momentarily lighter. he pulled out a chair for you before settling back into his own seat, engaging your daughter with playful questions about her favorite foods and games. her laughter filled the air as he entertained her, his natural charm putting her completely at ease.

˚ ༘♡ as the meal went on, you found yourself relaxing, enjoying the rare treat of good food and pleasant company. when your daughter noticed the arcade machines near the back of the restaurant, her face lit up with excitement. before you could say a word, sang-woo reached into his pocket and handed her a coin, encouraging her to go play while the two of you stayed behind. it was then, as you sat alone with him, that the evening took a turn you hadn’t anticipated.

˚ ༘♡ leaning in slightly, his expression grew more thoughtful. “can i ask you something personal?” he began, his voice measured and quiet. you nodded, unsure where he was going with this. “are you seeing anyone right now?”

˚ ༘♡ the question caught you off guard. you hesitated, but there was no point in pretending. with a quiet sigh, you opened up about your past, your brief, ill-fated marriage, your ex-husband’s abandonment, and the struggles that had followed. sang-woo listened intently, his gaze steady, never betraying judgment or discomfort. when you finished, he offered a small, empathetic smile and reached across the table, his hand brushing yours lightly. “you’ve been through so much, but you’re doing a wonderful job as a mother,” he said, his words sincere. before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, quick and discreet, ensuring your daughter didn’t see.

˚ ༘♡ the gesture left you momentarily speechless, your heart racing in a way it hadn’t in years. cho sang-woo was everything society valued, handsome, intelligent, and successful. yet, you couldn’t ignore the gap between your worlds. a single mother scraping by on meager wages didn’t belong in the same orbit as a man like him, no matter how kind he was. you told yourself he was simply a good friend, someone who offered comfort in a lonely existence. but the truth was harder to dismiss, and the growing fondness you felt for him remained long after that night.

˚ ༘♡ weeks later, the strain of your financial troubles bore down on you more heavily than ever. the debt had spiraled out of control, and every day felt like a losing battle to stay afloat. you were walking home one evening when a sharply dressed man approached you, his presence almost unsettling in its precision. he introduced himself with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and held out two small folded squares of paper. “care for a game of ddakji?” he asked, his tone cheerful but with an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place. “if you win, you’ll get one hundred thousand won. if you lose, i get to slap you.”

˚ ༘♡ desperation clouded your judgment, and against your better instincts, you agreed. the first few rounds ended in failure, each slap stinging more than the last. but you persisted, driven by the thought of what that money could mean for your daughter. finally, with trembling hands and a burst of determination, you flipped the paper correctly. the man handed you the cash with an unsettling smile and then extended a business card. “call this number if you want to win more,” he said, his words lingering in your mind as you walked away clutching the money.

˚ ༘♡ that night, after tucking your daughter into bed, you stared at the card for what felt like hours. the temptation was overwhelming, and in the end, it won. you called the number, your voice shaking as you gave your name and address. within minutes, a sleek black limousine pulled up in front of your building, its windows tinted so dark you couldn’t see inside. stepping in, you barely had time to settle before a strange chemical filled the air, and the world went dark.

˚ ༘♡ when you awoke, the surroundings were unfamiliar and unnerving. rows of bunk beds stretched endlessly across a vast room, the walls painted a distasteful shade of green. you looked down and saw the plain jumpsuit you now wore, the number 017 stitched onto the fabric. confusion and fear gripped you, but one thought rose above the chaos, your daughter was at home, and you had to survive this for her, to give the life she deserved.

˚ ༘♡ the goal of winning was your aspiration when the first game began. at first glance, it seemed absurd, red light, green light, a relic from childhood memories long buried beneath the weight of adulthood. the vibrant, oversized doll at the far end of the field seemed almost laughable in its stillness, its painted smile eerie but harmless. but that illusion shattered when the first player was eliminated. the sound of the gunshot echoed through the air, followed by the horrifying sight of their lifeless body collapsing onto the dirt. the cheerful voice announcing the rules continued without pause, as though nothing had happened.

˚ ༘♡ panic erupted among the players. shouts of disbelief and terror filled the air as dozens bolted toward the exits, frantic and desperate to escape. one by one, they were struck down, their bodies littering the field as if caught in an invisible storm. the realization hit you like a physical blow, this was no game. this was life and death, and you were standing in its grasp. your knees trembled under the weight of fear, and your breaths came shallow and quick. every instinct screamed at you to run, to flee the nightmare unfolding around you.

˚ ༘♡ “the doll’s eyes are motion sensors. don’t move.”

˚ ༘♡ the voice came from behind, quiet but firm, cutting through the chaos. you turned your head slightly, careful to avoid triggering the sensors. it was cho sang-woo, his expression as composed as ever, though his voice carried an edge you had never heard before. his presence shocked you, why was he here? he had a prestigious job, a beautiful home, a life far removed from the misery that had led you to this place. what could have driven him to join this horrifying spectacle? but there was no time for answers. survival demanded your complete attention.

˚ ༘♡ you fixed your gaze on the doll, its head swiveling unnervingly to scan the players. the melody began again, and with it, the rules of survival. move forward, stop immediately, stay frozen. you forced yourself to take small, deliberate steps, resisting the overwhelming urge to sprint. each time the doll’s head turned, you froze, your body taut with fear, your heart pounding so loudly it seemed deafening. every second stretched into eternity, every step forward a test of willpower.

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo crossed the finish line seconds before you, his figure stoic as he turned his back to the field. you pushed onward, your focus unyielding, until you finally crossed the line with seconds to spare. the tension in your body snapped, leaving your legs weak beneath you, but you remained upright, clinging to the knowledge that you had survived, for now. you glanced toward sang-woo, hoping for some acknowledgment, but he avoided your gaze entirely, turning away as if you were a stranger.

˚ ༘♡ once the last player stumbled through, the harsh blare of a horn signaled the end of the game, and the survivors were ushered back into the dormitory. the atmosphere was suffocating, the air thick with tension and fear as the reality of what they had just endured began to sink in. the sight of so many bodies lying lifeless on the field haunted you, but there was no time to grieve, no space to process. the masked guards stood silent and menacing, a constant reminder that you were trapped under their watchful gaze.

˚ ༘♡ as the players murmured among themselves, questions and disbelief rippling through the crowd, one of the masked guards stepped forward. his voice was distorted through the microphone, chilling in its detachment. “to remind you why you are here, we will reveal the amount of debt each of you owes.”

˚ ༘♡ the room fell silent, a collective tension building as a screen lit up on one of the walls. one by one, the players’ faces appeared, alongside staggering amounts of debt. gasps and whispers spread as the numbers grew larger and larger, each amount more crippling than the last. when your face appeared, the sum displayed made your stomach churn, a figure so vast it felt insurmountable, nearly half a billion won, a reflection of every foolish decision you had made to keep your daughter fed and housed.

˚ ༘♡ but the room truly stilled when cho sang-woo’s face appeared on the screen. his debt was six billion won. the air seemed to grow heavier as the number glowed on the screen, an incomprehensible weight tied to the man who had always seemed so polished, so composed, so untouchable. a few players exchanged shocked glances, but sang-woo’s expression didn’t waver. his face remained unreadable, a mask of calm that betrayed none of the turmoil he might have felt.

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t stop staring at him. six billion won? how could someone with his education, his prestigious career, have ended up in such a dire position? questions swirled in your mind, but the icy tone of the guard’s voice broke through your thoughts. “this is what brought you here. this is what you must fight to overcome.”

˚ ༘♡ as the screen darkened, the room buzzed with subdued murmurs. the revelation had shifted the atmosphere, exposing the cracks in the carefully guarded facades of those around you. it was a stark reminder that no one here was truly secure, no matter how confident or composed they appeared.

˚ ༘♡ murmurs of confusion and disbelief filled the air. then, to your astonishment, sang-woo stepped forward and initiated a vote to end the game. the announcement caused a ripple of hope, and soon the vote began. by the narrowest margin, the majority chose to leave. the thought of returning to your daughter filled you with relief, even as unease lingered in your mind.

˚ ༘♡ back in the outside world, you clung to the brief sense of normalcy that returning home provided. your daughter’s laughter was a salve to your frayed nerves, but the relief was fleeting. the reality of your situation hit like a tidal wave when you opened the door to find loan sharks waiting, their demands sharper and more insistent than before. a stack of bills sat ominously on your table, a chilling reminder that leaving the game hadn’t erased your debts. it had only delayed the inevitable.

˚ ༘♡ when the sleek black limousine returned, you didn’t hesitate. you kissed your daughter’s forehead, returned her to the care of your elderly neighbor, and climbed into the car, your resolve hardening. the gas filled the air once again, and the world faded into unconsciousness. when you awoke, you were back in the same vast dormitory, the green jumpsuit hanging from your frame like a prison uniform.

˚ ༘♡ to your surprise, and perhaps dismay, sang-woo had returned as well. he stood apart from the crowd, his expression carefully neutral, as though he had already resigned himself to whatever horrors lay ahead. you couldn’t help but feel a pang of curiosity and frustration. what could have brought him back to this nightmare? but his presence, as unsettling as it was, also brought a sliver of comfort. at least one person here wasn’t a complete stranger. whether he acknowledged you or not, the fact that he was there, breathing the same air, enduring the same fate, made the unbearable feel slightly less isolating.

˚ ༘♡ as you climbed through the maze of brightly colored block structures on your way to the second game, the oppressive silence among the players was broken only by the occasional scrape of shoes against the smooth surfaces. the atmosphere was suffocating, each person wrapped in their own thoughts of survival. as you reached the next passageway, you caught sight of sang-woo walking a few steps ahead, his broad shoulders unmistakable even in the dull green jumpsuit. you quickened your pace, weaving around other players until you came up beside him.

˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo?” you called out hesitantly, unsure if he even wanted to be acknowledged. “it’s good to see you.”

˚ ༘♡ he turned to face you, his expression weary, his sharp features softened by exhaustion. his glasses were gone, leaving his face bare in a way that felt unfamiliar. the hollowness in his eyes made your heart ache, a stark contrast to the composed man you once knew. “it’s good to see you as well,” he said quietly, though his tone carried an undercurrent of shame. his gaze drifted downward, as though he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes for long.

˚ ༘♡ you hesitated, unsure whether to press him further, but the words poured out before you could stop them. “sang-woo, i had no idea you were in so much debt. i thought…” you faltered, the unfinished sentence hanging heavily in the air. you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud, the claims you’d heard about client embezzlement and loans swirling in your mind. surely, he wouldn’t have stolen money from his workplace? the man you thought you knew wouldn’t sink to such levels, or so you hoped.

˚ ༘♡ his lips pressed into a thin line, his expression tightening. “we can talk later, alright?” his voice was calm, but the subtle edge warned you not to push further. he looked away, focusing on the corridor ahead, his discomfort palpable.

˚ ༘♡ before you could respond, the masked guards appeared, their presence commanding immediate attention. one of them stepped forward, his voice cold and distorted as he barked instructions. “players, form a line in front of the four doors, triangle, circle, star, and umbrella.” the straightforward simplicity of the directive only heightened your unease. no explanation was given, and the purpose of the shapes remained a mystery.

˚ ༘♡ you watched as sang-woo leaned toward the group of players he had been speaking with, his voice low but audible. “we should split up,” he suggested. “i’ll take the triangle.” his tone was measured, but there was something deliberate in the way he spoke, as though he knew more than he was letting on.

˚ ༘♡ you stepped closer, offering him a faint smile. “i’ll take the star,” you said, trying to inject a bit of optimism into the tension-filled space.

˚ ༘♡ his jaw tightened visibly, and he shook his head, the motion slow and deliberate. “no,” he said, his voice firm. his friends had already dispersed, blending into the lines forming at the other doors, but he didn’t move. his gaze locked onto yours, unflinching.

˚ ༘♡ “why not?” you asked, confused by his sudden insistence.

˚ ༘♡ he hesitated, the pause stretching long enough to feel significant. “i think you should stick with me,” he said finally. “for a woman, the next game could be dangerous, and you might need protection. choose triangle with me.”

˚ ༘♡ there was something in his tone, persuasive as it could be, that made it impossible to refuse. though his reasoning unsettled you, you nodded, falling into line behind him as the players shuffled forward. your eyes scanned the room anxiously, searching for any clue as to what lay ahead.

˚ ༘♡ when the game was finally revealed, your stomach sank. the guards handed each player a thin tin containing a piece of dalgona candy. the shape on the door you had chosen corresponded to the delicate imprint in the sugar, triangle for you and sang-woo. the instructions were chillingly simple, extract the shape from the brittle candy without breaking it. failure meant elimination.

˚ ༘♡ as you stared down at the candy in your hands, your breath hitched. the triangle, though angular and sharp, was mercifully the easiest of the shapes. your fingers trembled as you picked up the needle provided, its point glinting under the harsh overhead lights. you glanced at sang-woo, who was already at work on his candy, his face an unreadable mask. you offered him a small, grateful smile, relieved that his advice had spared you a more complicated shape. he acknowledged it with a weak nod but didn’t look up from his task.

˚ ༘♡ the room was filled with the sound of quiet scraping, interspersed with the occasional crack of breaking candy and the deafening gunshots that followed. each failure sent a ripple of fear through the players, the stakes of the game becoming all too real. your hands shook uncontrollably as you traced the edges of the triangle, the needle’s tip scraping against the delicate surface. beads of sweat formed on your forehead, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

˚ ༘♡ finally, with painstaking caution, you lifted the triangle free from the candy, the edges intact. relief flooded through you, though your hands continued to tremble as you approached one of the masked guards. holding up the completed shape, you waited for his acknowledgment. “player 218, player 017, pass,” the voice from the speaker announced, devoid of emotion.

˚ ༘♡ as you and sang-woo stepped into the expansive player quarters, the dim lighting and echo of murmured conversations created an atmosphere that felt dreadful yet oddly subdued. the space was filled with rows of bunks stacked high, each one occupied by players whose expressions ranged from numb exhaustion to quiet fear. you glanced around briefly before turning your attention to him, your gratitude bubbling to the surface.

˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo, you saved my life,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. the words carried a weight you couldn’t ignore. “i wouldn’t have had the precision or patience to cut out the star. thank you for convincing me to choose triangle.”

˚ ༘♡ he paused mid-step, his shoulders tensing ever so slightly as he turned to look at you. his expression was calm, but there was something unreadable in his gaze, a flicker of thought he didn’t voice. you tilted your head, your curiosity piqued as a question formed in your mind. “did you know it was going to be dalgona?” your voice held both curiosity and suspicion. he was intelligent, brilliant, in fact. it wouldn’t have surprised you if he had pieced together clues that no one else had noticed. but then again, if he had known, wouldn’t he have told his friends?

˚ ༘♡ his lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he looked almost reluctant to answer. “i didn’t,” he said finally, his tone measured and deliberate. “it was a lucky guess, i suppose.” but there was something about the way he said it that left you unconvinced. his words felt too crafted, too careful, as if he were guarding a truth he wasn’t ready to share.

˚ ༘♡ before you could probe further, he shifted the conversation, his gaze tender as he looked at you. “come on,” he said, his voice quieter now. “you look like you’re about to collapse, and i can hardly stay upright myself after how draining that game was. let’s try and relax our nerves.”

˚ ༘♡ you nodded, the tension in your body loosening slightly as his words pulled you away from your thoughts. together, you made your way to an unoccupied bunk in one of the quieter corners of the dormitory. as you sat down, the fatigue of the day hit you like a wave, the adrenaline that had kept you going during the game now fully drained from your system.

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo leaned against the metal frame of the bunk, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. his face was pale under the fluorescent lights, and the dark circles under his eyes betrayed how much the game had taken out of him. for a moment, the silence between you felt almost comfortable, a reprieve from the chaos that had defined the day.

˚ ༘♡ “you know,” you said after a while, your voice barely above a whisper, “i don’t know how you stayed so calm out there. i felt like i was going to fall apart the entire time.”

˚ ༘♡ he let out a low breath, not quite a sigh, as his eyes shifted to the floor. “i wasn’t calm,” he admitted. “i was terrified, but fear doesn’t help you survive. you have to focus, no matter what.” his words were matter-of-fact, but there was an edge to them, a glimpse of the pressure he carried that he rarely allowed others to see.

˚ ༘♡ you studied him for a moment, your gratitude mingling with a growing sense of unease. there was so much about him that remained a mystery, layers of calculation and restraint that made it impossible to fully understand what he was thinking. but for now, you were too tired to dwell on it.

˚ ༘♡ “thank you, sang-woo,” you said again, your voice softer this time. you meant it, not simply for his advice during the game, but for the quiet sense of stability he brought in a world that felt increasingly unmoored.

˚ ༘♡ he gave a faint nod, his lips curving into the barest hint of a smile. “get some rest,” he said, his tone gentle but steadfast. “tomorrow will probably be worse.”

a/n: can you all tell my favorite character is cho sang-woo? don’t worry, part two of the hwang in-house x wife series will be out soon! let me know your thoughts! 🤍

[xazse]

Female!Reader × HybridPuppy!Yuji

The reader produces breast milk , which she expresses and donates to a shelter for small hybrids. HybridPuppy!Yuji often hugs her and presses himself against her chest to inhale the smell of milk, which makes his mouth water and his cock hard. In the end, he can't resist and begs his mistress to let him suck her milk. Or he sneaks into her bedroom at night and drinks her milk while she sleeps.

Instead of Yuji, you can have Satoru if you want to change the character

Notes: I love this so fucking much, I made a few changes I hope you don’t mind and I’m using Satoru btw because I don’t write for minors.

Pairings: PuppyHybrid!Satoru x LactatingFem!Reader

Warnings: I’m sorry but I’m warning ya now this is some nasty shit but a good nasty if ur into this! + Smut + Lactation + hybrids + reader has big boobs + possessive!Satoru + perv!Satoru + porn with plot + notproofread + bathroom sex + I think I spent too much time on plot and not enough porn sorry!

You love visiting the shelter near your house, it’s just a ten minute walk of you enjoying the scenery and speaking to the townspeople, they always greet you with the warmest smiles because they know you, they’ve known you for years.

In fact everyone here knows you: a widowed mother and wife, a mother whose children have been moved on to pursue their own hopes and dreams so in your little warm house it’s just you. You’ve noticed for a while a void in your heart, the loneliness does get to you some days but not today.

Recently a facility had been built, a hybrid facility, at first you hadn’t ever thought those existed because under new law hybrids are allowed to coexist around regular humans, they are to be treated as such it was a long time coming, it hurt your heart to see them being treated as outcasts.

You learned that this facility was for the young, abandoned and on occasion they’d take in adults who still couldn’t find their place.

And in that place you finally found your calling. for some odd reason you and your doctor couldn’t place you were still weirdly lactating, it was exhausting having sore breasts and an endless supply of milk you’d have to pour down the drain: too embarrassed to donate it in fear of being found out in the small town of people.

You awake up with full boobs that needed to be emptied or you’d spend the entire day in pain, pumping the milk was the only way, you’d only have to do it once a day but the sheer amount could keep a baby feed for the entire day.

You’d been talking to one of the workers of the facility and they’d been explaining how the young ones weren’t exactly taking well to the supplied formula milk, “they’d cry constantly” he exclaimed and it broke your heart into pieces the thought of them not eating hurts you, for the very first time you confided in the worker and he didn’t look disgusted not one bit in fact he seemed overjoyed.

“Disgusted? Why would I feel that way? This means the little ones will eat and not throw fits.” When he finishes that sentence a long drawn out sigh leaves his lips. You can’t help the giggle that falls from your lips.

Suguru you learn comes by your house to pick up the supplements and does he have some comments, he had waited a week to see how much you would produce.

“All this?!” You stand in your doorway shyly nodding in his presence, he’s actually appalled you weren’t lying when you said you have a good bit, he shakes the box in his hands and listens carefully, it’s hard for you to watch him do that right in front of you and not get a little flustered.

He thanks you graciously and makes his way back to the facility, you really hope they like it, it was one hell of a week for you. Though the feeling you did something good swarms you with warmth.

After that it was found that they absolutely loved your milk, and you had plenty to give, it was so cute the way Suguru described their reactions and how priceless it was. One little one had whined for more: Yuji was a special character he required a bit more milk since he was malnourished, Suguru couldn’t stop describing how he would not let go of the bottle, his grip was not going to let up easily, he looked so genuinely happy describing his work and how much he enjoys this field.

You break out of your thoughts and make your way to the facility, it’s downright gorgeous garden greeting you before the glass doors, smelling so good greets you just as warmly, you open the door and offer your greetings to the staff, Suguru had told you on the phone that the little ones had been particularly needy and needed some attention, attention they couldn’t provide right at the moment so they called you: they always do.

They’re way more comfortable with you, always asking when you’re coming back and on occasion they’ll beg you to stay a little longer with them, cute little faces decorated in tears to trick you.

Right now you’re relaxing on the mat in the playroom whilst they all run around chasing after one another, Nobara: a little lion hybrid is trying her hardest to doze off on your lap, she can’t with all the loud children playing like it’s their last day ever. You slowly and softly rub her short locs to lull her, it’s working until Yuji: a tiger hybrid ever the energetic thing is crawling to come bother her.

With Megumi: a wolf hybrid, and basically his other half following right behind him quietly.

Nobara seems unphased by the tiger trying to bother her, simply shooing him away so she can get her beauty sleep, that sentence makes you giggle, you continue to watch the threes antics without saying a word, a show with no production is how they act together.

Yuji sees your hands rubbing Nobaras ears and he’s immediately making his way towards your soft fingers, basically forcing you to rub his orange striped ears, this doesn’t make Nobara happy and she tries to shove him away; whining for your attention again.

You know how they get if you aren’t showing them equal parts attention so now both of your hands are preoccupied, Megumi doesn’t seem to mind, simply sitting and watching on.

You hear his voice before you even see him, he’s definitely running through the halls disrupting the staff, he’s yelling your name so loud that you know its Satoru and how eager he is, you know how eager puppy hybrids can be.

When he pops his head into the playroom the brightest smile you think you’ve ever seen, he quickly makes his way over to you ignoring the little growls the babies give him, he’s pushing them aside against your protest and laying in your lap. The grip he has around your waist allows for him to fully envelope himself in your breasts.

“Missed you’s much” he playfully whines.

“You seen me yesterday Toru.”

Satoru lets out a satisfied sigh in the warmth of your boobs, he’s become obsessed with you, and it’s bad he’s had to he reprimanded by Suguru and the other staff multiple times for his possessiveness it’s not his fault though! He can’t control how he feels about you not after that day.

It was when he was feeding Megumi, sometimes as a way to bond Suguru will have Satoru bottle feed them, though he absolutely dreads it, he has to put up with it, all the other adult hybrids are far too hard headed.

He was curious one day, about how the milk had tasted, he found out through Suguru that the formula had been changed to breast milk, it was a slip of the tongue but he himself had also noticed how they whined for more.

He unscrewed the top to the bottle, the little calm Megumi was already drifting off so he wasn’t a problem.

He took a sip, and quickly pulled away: fully expecting it to be the worst thing he’s ever tried: it’s baby food not food meant for him but that feeling on his tongue never came in fact it was actually quite good.

Another sip and another after that; he scarfed the remains of the bottle down with a flushed face, it tassted like- well he couldn’t describe it but he knew he fucking loved it. He found himself sneaking into where it was kept and taking some for himself, it was almost an everyday thing, he knew when Suguru was questioning and bothering him he had to stop but he couldn’t, until he met the source of where the milk was coming from.

He snuggles his face deeper, ignoring and zoning out the loud noises around him, he can smell the milk on your breasts, you recently pumped? Probably this morning to be exact as and all he can think about is how you sat there for hours getting rid of the awful feeling in your sore breasts.

You feel something hard against your leg, you know how Satoru feels about you but this is too much. You’ve already had to tell him in the past that he’s much too young for you and would be better off finding someone who can fit his needs, he insists that he only wants you and doesn’t care about the age difference.

You have yet to bring up these feelings to Suguru though, you can’t bring yourself to say because what if Satoru won’t trust you anymore, it was hard building trust with the man due to his past experiences.

He’s only getting more excited by the minute, his tail moving in slow languid motions.

The way he’s looking up at you is filled with nothing but love and lust, you know that look too well.

You aren’t sure why you’re in a bathroom stall with Toru whilst he feels you up, caressing your boobs, every attempt to tell him to stop dies on your tongue when he rubs a sore area, your breath hitching in your throat when he grinds his hard cock on you.

Such a needy puppy he is, whining under his breath words that you can’t quite decipher especially with how heated you’re getting, your mind getting foggier by the minute as you let Satoru get his fill of you.

He rips apart your blouse and carelessly throws it on the floor, along with your bra next. Your nipples are exposed to the cold air of the facility and Satoru is reveling in it. He paws at your heavy boobs with rough calloused hands that are uncoordinated, squeezing the fat in his hand until he sees what he wants.

The droplets of your milk finally coming to fruition, he licks one nipple and you think you can see him visibly shake with excitement, he filts that nipple in his mouth and suckles, after a good minute he ceases his constant unconscious movements and readily focuses on the sweet milk cascading down his throat.

A moan breaks free from your trembling lips, this feels nothing like the machine you have at home, this feels so fucking good it alone has your cunt throbbing in your panties, the swirling of his tongue and just how content he looks is driving you mad.

You slip into that space that you know is bad for you, your voice is for some reason egging Satoru on, calling him all sorts of names that entice him to suck harder. Your hands don’t listen to you either because you’re rubbing the front of his pants in soft motions.

His whimpers don’t go unnoticed, nor does his swishing tail, such a good boy you tell him, losing all sense of rational he drags you with him to sit on the toilet, you don’t expect the amount of strength he has for being so lanky but he manages it.

He goes right back to sucking on your fat breasts that still replenish his appetite.

You let Satoru strip you of your bottoms and your panties, you let him slip his cock inside of you when you know you shouldn’t, he isn’t big but he fucks constant, always hitting that good spot inside of you based off your reactions.

He looks disheveled and messy, his face red and his mouth dripping with drool and remnants of your milk.

You let him bend you any which way he sees fit in that stall, an overexcited hybrid means it’s going to take a while to exhaust them, though you feel tired after having an orgasm you’ve never experienced he isn’t done, he’s cum multiple times, filled your cunt with his leaky cum he still isn’t done yet.

When he’s got you in his lap leaning on him for support he’s nonstop talking about what you and him will do from here, he talks about how he wants a family of his own and how you’ll be such a perfect mommy to his little ones.

[thatsdemko]

without you there’s nothing to live for - l.norris

masterlist

pairings: lando norris x fem!reader

warnings: jealousy + insecurities + fluff + build up(kinda long I’m sorry about that) + some errors here or there

a/n: while I had bits and pieces of this work in millions of other lando drafts I think I have to give credit where it’s due to @userlando and her anons ☺️🫶 I’m in such a shit mood so i figured posting this might make me feel better. enjoy xx

Lando Norris was annoying. a childhood friend of yours that somehow stuck throughout the years and never seemed to vanish. he was like a a piece of gum stuck to your shoe, he just never left.

and while you’re thankful he’s the longest lasting friendship you have; did you fail to mention he could be annoying?

his hands drum against the kitchen island, a distraction worthy of you flicking your pencil in his direction, but he’s too quick the pencil would just end up behind him, so you result in throwing him a very pointed look that shuts him up.

“is that pencil up your ass too today?”

you give him another look before staring down at the empty grocery list you failed to create, because lando has claimed your flat as his flat. the lavish lifestyle penthouse was abandoned at the instant call of your arrival to Monaco, and now all of his expensive taste clutters your space.

“did you put eggs on the list? I need eggs. it’s good protein—“ he shuts up to the sound of you breaking the pencil in half, another annoyed look tossed his way.

lando could be a lot. but there was no one who could keep up with you. there was no one like him in your corner, and while he pushed your buttons you were eternally grateful for his loyalty despite your rather jaded friendship.

“let’s just go to the store? I’ll drive.” he says like there’s another alternative to the store. ever since he got his license and moved in, you’ve never even put your foot on the accelerator. you’ve almost forgot the thrilling feeling of driving.

“eggs have been added to the list.” you finally say, typing up your notes of a grocery list once you were finally able to think straight without lando tapping away or chatting your ear off.

god was he annoying, but you loved him for him.

—

his wallet funds are bigger than what you have. you feel guilty every time he buys, but it’s not like you have the funds to do so. he knows that guilty look across your face when he ends up paying for 10% groceries and 90% female hygiene products. he doesn’t mind, just shoves his card in the machine and says a thank you for the person who bags your things.

“you have to let me pay you back—“

“no, nonsense.” he cuts you off, the conversation goes like it always does. you beg, and beg, to try and wiggle in a payback, but he refuses. all those years of your parents giving him shelter, taking him to races, or letting him play in your backyard it’s the least he could do.

“but the price adds up, and you’re paying for most of the rent—“

“I won’t have this conversation with you. just get in the car.” he says it without letting you have another word in. it’s his turn to shoot you down with pointed looks every time you try to mention money.

“y/n?! is that you?”

lando’s heart nearly drops to his stomach at the sound of that voice—that voice, being your ex boyfriend. he came out of nowhere, like the stalker he is, and finds himself walking around lando’s spiffy mclaren with wide eyes and confusion at your presence with the formula one driver. he must’ve forgotten lando was your best friend.

“you going to introduce me to your new boyfriend?”

before you can protest lando shakes his hand. you can tell by the grip lando has on him it’s a firm hard handshake. one to prove a point about the 2 a.m calls of you crying to your best friend from across the world. he was a shitty man, and maybe showing lando off like that would put him in his place.

“this is lando, you guys met awhile back.” you say.

you watch the two of their eyes glimmer in the sunlight with hatred for one another. lando was the guy you told him not to worry about— and he still was— and he was the guy lando was desperately wanting to kick ass.

“don’t remember that.”

“I actually remember, didn’t you spend half the night snogging another girl?” lando’s gentle reminder makes your ex’s face flush pale. you watch a little smile lift to lando’s lips before you both excuse yourselves to head home.

“my new boyfriend is so cool.” you say in a sarcastic tone once it’s just the two of you in his car.

lando let’s out laugh, and just puts the car in reverse. the simple act makes your head spin. his hand reaching behind the head of your seat, the way his eyes quickly glance on you before he looks back to ensure no one is coming. these thoughts were never present until this run in. would lando be a good boyfriend?

you can’t help but explore those thoughts in the twenty minute car ride home in pure silence.

your mind wanders to the idea of waking up to him in your bed. his legs tangled with yours, lazy soft kisses pressed your cheeks. you could melt at just the thought of it.

or maybe he’d make you eggs. you’d wake to the smell of bacon grease and him shirtless—like he always is in the kitchen— creating a masterpiece meal that you devour in minutes.

what switch has suddenly changed in you? because now when you look at lando, your heart does things it never did before. your head spins of ideas of him as your boyfriend and it’s so sickening you could throw up.

“I’m going to unload the groceries, you’re more than welcome to sit and stare into space for as much as you need.” his words spook you. a little yelp escaped your lips that he’d caught you. your eyes bug wide—like they always are when you get into your daydreams— and mind so full you lose track of time and often forget your surroundings. you had no clue you’d been sitting in the driveway this whole time.

“where do you want the tampons again? I seem to forget.”

“under the bathroom sink please.”

you wonder if you can shove your thoughts under there too. a nap is needed to clear your mind of whatever seems to be boggling it all about lando.

—

a nap certainly did help, however, waking up to lando shirtless in your bed also napping? yeah, all that hard work of suppressed thoughts came right back.

you think about taking your finger and running it all over the divots, curves, and muscles of his body. you think about how much stronger he’s been looking lately and how the little hair on his chin is growing onto you. what is going on with you?

it was common for lando to come in your room and sleep with you. nightmares were rare for you, but they happened more often than you expected and lando always wanted to be there for it. but this was just a nap? why did he have to come in and sleep with you? he could’ve just slept in his own bed, that certainly would’ve helped your heart if he did.

you roll out of bed and tip toe around your bed, until your heart makes you stop. you stare at his peaceful state. the way his curls fall over his forehead, the thick long lashes you desperately want, the soft smile on his lips— his eyes are opening, shit, you think to yourself.

you quickly book it out of the room to save yourself from the embarrassment of him catching you watching him sleep. what a creep you were becoming in the matter of hours. this is why you shouldn’t like your best friend. hell, this is why you shouldn’t let your man best friend live with you. it was destined for one of you to fall in love.

but it was also destined for you to most likely get your heart broken.

lando doesn’t date women like you. you’ve seen his roster of women rotating in and out of your place, none of them looked like you: an average woman with average looks. who’d want that?

a little part of hope lingers in your chest when you see him enter the kitchen. his lips press against your temple as he mumbles a good morning.

“how was your nap?”

“not long enough.” you admit watching him type away on his phone. his elbows are pressed against the granite counter tops, his fingers work vigorously against the screen. a little smile appears on his lips that make you nauseous. it could just be max, but it could be another girl.

almost two hours ago this wouldn’t of mattered to you. you wouldn’t of cared if lando invited a girl over and you stayed locked up in your room, but now all of a sudden it’s bothersome.

“what’s got you all smiley?” you ask, partially out of curiosity but partially to just kill your heart with his response. he sets his phone face down on the counter resting his chin in the palm of his hand, “max is coming over, and so is pietra.”

“exciting.” you grin, though the words disagree with your expression making his face drop with worry.

“are you worried max is going to take your best friend spot? he could never, y/n.”

best friend. yeah, that’s all you’ll ever be when girls like ria and pietra exist. deadly beauty that could put a man in his place. when was yours ever going to show up?

—

you’re tipsy off the expensive bottle of wine max brought. your body is pressed against lando’s for support as you all laugh about something max said. you can’t help but wrap your arms around his strong bicep, resting your head against his shoulder listening to pietra expose Max’s recent mess up.

lando doesn’t take notice in the way you’re seated. he knows you’re beside him based off the heat that radiates off your body. you always got overly warm when drunk, and sometimes a bit too affectionate, but he didn’t mind. he actually loved it when you wanted to be beside him.

“so when did this happen?” pietra points her finger between you two, a bright smile pressed against her lips as she cozies herself up to her own boyfriend.

lando clears his throat. he practically yanks his arm out of your grip leaving you to fall back against the cushions beside him. you hide your face into his back out of embarrassment suddenly becoming aware of how you two look. “oh umm—“

“oh gosh! I’m so sorry. I think it’s the wine talking in me.” she quickly apologizes, a blush filters her face similar to yours.

“it’s not the first time today that’s happened.”

“do tell,” max sits on the edge of his seat listening to lando explain the run in, your face is still pressed into his back. you’re hoping that maybe if you just stay there you would disappear into thin air or end up in your bedroom sound asleep away from all of this.

“I still want to kick that guys ass—“

“wait,” pietra cuts off max, her voice demands all the attention in the room. you pry your head from out of lando and peer behind him at her, “you didn’t even tell him you are just friends? you let him assume that you’re dating?”

lando’s mouth opens and closes. nothing seems to come out making max throw his head back in a laughing fit, “oh god! I owe ria money for this, you like y/n!”

Lando’s face is flushed red, a similar color to the glass of wine in his hands. there was nothing he could say. he couldn’t even protest it when it was true. he hadn’t even realized he never corrected your ex boyfriend, because truth be told, he wanted to be shown off as your boyfriend.

“come on pietra, let’s leave these two alone.”

they leave as quick as they came, leaving only the half full bottle of wine for yourselves. you both sit in silence, no one musters up the courage to speak.

you both get ready for bed like nothing happened. the awkward silence eats you up. you want to speak up and tell him you feel the same, you want things to go back to normal. you just want annoying lando back.

when you finally finish your nighttime regiment, you’re ready for bed. you turn the corner into your bedroom and see the silhouette of lando reflecting against the wall. your night light was on, and he was laying in your bed, cozied up under the covers.

“sleeping in here tonight?” you ask slipping under the covers beside him, he moves himself closer to you occupying the middle of the bed.

“you don’t mind, do you?”

you shake your head curling your body against his, “I like it when you sleep with me.” you say making a sense of pride soar through his chest. he likes the way your body molds against his.

“your new boyfriend will protect you.” he smiles down at you, carefully place a kiss to your forehead before reaching over and turning off your lamp.

“thank goodness he’s here, I can’t sleep without him.”

“you know I’m talking about myself right?” he lifts his neck up, face looking down at you, your eyes closed practically half asleep already.

“goodnight, boyfriend.”

“goodnight, girlfriend.”

tags: @oconso @xcicix @imsorare @weasleyswizardwheezes-blog @monzabee @lpab @frreyaa @motorsp0rt @lovelytsunoda @smoothopz

want to be apart of my tag list? let me know here!

[natailiatulls07]

Radio Moments

Formula one grid & driver!young!reader

Summary - A compilation of the young drivers radio moments on track

Warning - Jake Gyllenhaal is mentioned, apart from that nothing really

Reader drives for RedBull

-

"Radio check please." Hughs, Y/n's current race engineer, voice came through the young adults earpiece.

"Have you heard that Taylor Swift is releasing speak now taylors version in five days?!" Y/n had been known by everyone who knew her to be a totally swifty, so it didn't surprise Hugh and the rest of her technical crew as she had been no stop talking about the albums release.

"Thank you and yes I have heard about that... from you" The engineer let out a small chuckle at the girls antics.

"Oh...well atleast you know for sure this time"

-

Austria - 02 July

"Hugh, my man! I am pretty bored here without any music or anyone to talk to so... what did you have for the most important meal of the day, breakfast?" Curiousity was one of many things you could describe Y/n as, for sure.

"You're not gonna like me for this but I had toast with butter. What did you have for breakfast Y/n?" Hugh answered the drivers question to satisfy her curiousity.

"Well I had some nutella on toast with some cut up strawberries, it was fu***** delicious! you should try it some time" There was a pause. "Sh** I fancy some now, you reckon I can get some after this?" Always snacking was another thing the media had pick up on the 19 year old, she could never eat a fully plate of food without a few breaks.

"Maybe, we'll see. Be careful Norris is approaching your left rear." Upon hearing about the presence of the British McLaren driver, Y/n soon abandoned the breakfast conversation in order to focus on staying ahead of the 23 year old male.

-

Great Britain - 09 July

"This is me praying that! This was the very first page, not where the storyline ends, my thoughts will echo your name, Until I see you again! Oh hey excuse Russell overtook me aw come on!" Her little concert was cut short by the Mercedes overtaking her on track.

"But I was paying my respects to mother Taylor and he ruined it. He is just like a certain Jake!" Hugh refused to even reply to the girl annoyed complaints.

It was a few days after the British race when the formula one tiktok released this clip, which soon went viral among swifties. It was only noticed by the driver when she posted on instagram.

yourusername

On and off track ❤️

Liked by carlossainz55 and 860,378 others

username I was enchanted to met you!!

username Ignore Russell, he is definitely a Jake Gyllenhaal

= georgerussell63 You know that I am definitely a swiftie, definitely wouldn't treat a women like he did!!

= yourusername This is why we love you Georgie!! ❤️

-

[vetteltea]

Green Eyes [CL16 Ending]

Those green eyes. The ones you had married.

Charles visibly breathes out when he sees you, sitting up, blinking towards him. He wants to rush to you, to cradle you in his arms and tell you to your face how much he loves you, cherishes you more than anything else the universe has ever or will ever create.

The moment is more visualized in his head. In reality, Charles’ knees buckle, crouching by the door, tears flowing freely from his eyes. The flowers he had picked up from the giftshop are still in his grasp, almost on the floor as he tries to compose himself, to make his legs strong again. 

“Charles.” You speak softly. “It’s okay.” 

That seems to be enough to draw him further, to stand him up and get to her bedside, placing himself in the plastic chair, hands abandoning the bouquet of flowers and holding your face, a hand pressed to either of your cheeks as the tears pool around his lower lash line. His breathing is erratic, he’s scared. It’s like you’ll be pulled away from him at any moment, he doesn't want that. He cannot have that. 

“Are you okay? Are you okay? Are you still hurt?” His mind can’t catch up with his mouth, a barrage of questions which will surely send him into a spiral. Your heart is racing, you were certain if connected to a monitor, they would think you’re spinning out of control. This time, your actions overtake you, resting a hand on either side of Charles’ rambling face and pulling him to mesh your lips together.

This time, you kiss Charles Leclerc. 

His words immediately cease, a tiny whine leaving his lips as he presses back against you, hands freezing on your face and pulling you closer. He tells himself that if he lets go, you’ll be gone. You’ll stop kissing him. 

The idea of somebody else, of Carlos, is immediately wiped from your mind. He’s not Charles. He’s not your husband. 

Eventually, you have to for the sole reason that you need air. You gently remove yourself, foreheads pressing against one another, the only sounds radiating around the room being the soft catch of breath from yourself and your husband’s racing heartbeat. 

“I’m okay.” You whisper. The quietness sounds unusual, clearing your throat and trying again. “They said it’s a precaution. Dehydration, Stress, that sort of-” 

“-Stress?” Charles cuts you off. The guilt begins to settle in his stomach. Stress. Following him around each weekend. Stress. Wondering whether he’s going to come home to you each and every night. He was the one who had- who was-

“I’m sorry.” Charles murmurs, he’s not able to form his sentences properly. Your mind isn’t configuring correctly, convinced he’s still talking about not being there when you had been taken to hospital, about your current health. You don’t think as you shrug, letting him apologize before you start to speak again.

“Charles. It’s okay. You were in media with Joris-”

“Merde. No, that isn’t what I'm apologizing for.” He freezes, the pregnant pause in the room only growing by the moment. Is he really going to do this? Right here, right now. His wife- your eyes are wide, waiting for him to continue speaking. 

When your hand reaches out to overlay his, he feels the fingers, the lack of your cool wedding band on your ring finger, instead it rests in his pocket. It’s as if your contact has flipped a switch, remoting him to continue speaking. 

“I’m sorry.” He pauses, making sure you didn’t interrupt with an immediate acceptance. “I’m sorry for what I’ve made you go through for the past year.” His second hand rests atop of yours, he’s so cold, it sends a shiver through your arms. “I didn’t want to be married, I didn’t want to be settled but…it was for the best. It was for my career. I never- I never thought about how you must have felt the same way.”

He’s correct; when you had been told by your father of the arrangement, it was the last thing you had ever desired. Being married to a Formula One driver may have been a dream, but not at the expense of finding love. 

“I didn’t give you a chance. You looked-” He pauses changing the past tense. “You look after me. On my best and worst days, you were there. And what did I do? I kept pushing you away, pushing myself towards women who were not my wife.” 

“Charles.” You try to speak, images of his mistress flickering through your mind. “You loved her-”

“-I didn’t love her.” It was true. “I desired her. She was something which reminded me of when I was single. I kept…I wanted to hold onto what I had previously been, that I was single, fun and free.”

You shrug, looking down to where his hands interlocked over your own, careful not to nudge or injure you. “Charles, I get it. It was an arranged marriage, I never should have caught feelings. Not when-”

“I’m not finished.” Charles shakes his head, smiling now. “You were there. You stayed there, you were always there with a kind word and a warm heart. And the entire time that you were there…I ignored it.” He shakes his head. “And it took me so long to realize that what I wanted was a marriage.“ 

“It took-” You pause, you’re not able to be cruel. Your husband isn’t stupid, he knows what you were about to say. 

“-It took him. Yes.” He pauses. “To realize that all I want is you. That all I want is to come home to your arms, to take you for dinner at all the places I should have. To take you for boat rides and tell you how beautiful you look with wet hair and that perfect grin.” 

By this point, your mouth hangs ajar, your heart swelling. He’d never spoken so…honestly to you before. Eyes flicker down to his fingers, how they reach around for his right-hand pocket, sliding out a pocket square, the blue fabric which was ever-present at your wedding all those months ago. 

“I know you will never be able to forgive me for what I did.” He lets the fabric fall away, revealing your own wedding band. Immediately, your eyes snap down to your fingers, only just realizing that the ring had been removed. It wasn’t uncommon; after the six month mark, you had only worn the ring when appearing in public. Even now, it rests away from your finger, instead in your husband’s grasp.

“You can tell me to go right now.” His tone has raised, he’s clearly terrified that is what you’ll want. “I’ll go. You can have the house, the cars, everything. You’ll never see me again and I promise that.” Tears are pooling at his eyes again and you feel your stomach drop. He doesn't want that, of course he does not, but the fact he’s willing to let you go if it will make you happy burns through your heart. 

“But.” He lifts the ring, holding it just over your hand, letting the glistening band reflect across the hospital lights. “I want you to stay. I want to stay with you.” He sighs, his shoulders still so tense. “I promise you. I will do everything in my power to make you happy, to make you feel loved forever. I- I love you.” 

Your heart skyrockets; if it was possible for an organ to spontaneously combust and heal itself in a split second, you were certain it had happened to you. Your husband lifts the ring further, taking your left hand in his own, eyes still full of hope, of tears, of love. 

“Will you marry me, again?” His voice is so quiet. You’re so overwhelmed. “We can do it again. Our wedding. Just us, whatever we want.” It flickers through your mind; somewhere quiet, intimate. A soft white dress that is completely different from your original; rings slid onto one another's' fingers as you promised love all over again. But this time, it could be real. He would look you in the eye to say it, not off to the side, clearly refuting his role in the deal. 

This time, he looks into your eyes. 

“I promise.” 

This time, you can’t hold back the tears in your own eyes, nodding as the ring is slid back onto your finger. You can’t describe it, the way the cool band belongs there, it’s a part of you. 

No. The man sliding the finger onto your finger is the part of you. Wordlessly, Charles pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to every inch of your face, soft lips caressing each part, letting your head fall to his shoulder, breathing synchronized as a hand trails up your back, keeping his wife oh-so-close to him. 

“Let’s go back to the house.” He murmurs. “Let’s go back home.”

[lesbianredhoodedmercenary]

RATING THE SINNER'S ROOMS ON HOW INHOSPITABLE TO LIFE THEY ARE

DON QUIXOTE - 6/10 IT'S DOWNRIGHT OKAY IN HERE

Don is the only sinner who knows what "decorating" is. She's got a carpet or mat of some kind so sleeping here would not be absolutely dismal. And they let her keep her fixer figurines which is nice.

HONG LU - 5.5/10 MONEY CAN BE EXCHANGED FOR GOODS AND SERVICES

Having so much gold and treasure chests everywhere probably makes it a bit hard to move around the room. But at least his chair looks comfortable.

SINCLAIR - 5/10 CHAIR

Nice of them to give him a chair to Shinji pose in. Sucks that the chair will give him back pain at the tender age of 20.

MEURSAULT - 4/10 PAGE 77 LINES 12-15 ALBERT CAMUS' THE STRANGER (EN TRANSLATION BY MATTHEW WARD)

"There were others worse off than me. Anyway, it was one of Maman's ideas and she often repeated it, that after a while you could get used to anything."

FAUST - 3.5/10 INTJ ROOM

Well she was given a plain white tile room originally but she had to go and be an INTJ about it and now there's formulas on the wall.

YI SANG - 3/10 GLASS ON THE FLOOR

Similar to Faust, Yi Sang was given nothing but a white tiled room. But he got glass on the floor so it adds an element of danger. We are now entering the "Rooms with potential for bodily harm, be it illness or injury" zone.

RODYA - 2/10 A BIT CHILLY

No matter how cute your fur-trimmed pajamas are, they will not save you from frostbite. Sorry about your neighbors also. Mind the blood.

GREGOR - 1.5/10 TETANUS

While I understand the symbolism of him feeling like just another weapon of war, abandoned when the smoke war ended, there are just a lot of chances to get tetanus here. Not a good place to sleep.

HEATHCLIFF - 1/10 AND IS CATHERINE EARNSHAW IN THE ROOM WITH US NOW?

Not only does he have a roommate who's been festering for god knows how long, but due to being British he's discovered a way to make it rain INSIDE! He will be joining Rodya in the hypothermia club if he tries to sleep in these conditions.

RYOSHU - 0.5/10 FIRE SAFETY

Sorry about your daughter. We put a bunch of candles in a wooden room for you. You don't like the candles because they remind you of how your daughter died? Okay sorry. The room will catch fire any second now so you shouldn't have to worry about it.

OUTIS - 0/10 TETANUS, TRENCHFOOT, AND OTHER AILMENTS.

Not to be outdone by Heathcliff and Gregor, Outis has combined the worst of tetanus risks and dead bodies wrapped in barbed wire. Then turned it up orders of magnitude larger. It'll probably take her at least 10 years, experiencing many perils and losing all of her crewmates in the process, to return home. Sucks that they couldn't at least give her a chair in the meantime.

ISHMAEL - WATER/10

WATER.

[psychebutterflysol]

"𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨"

a/u: i like doomed relationships. this is just a prologue. next chapter would be real teehee. can you guess where the reader would be reborn?

warning: death, implied unhealthy relationship.

Your life was normal, halting from a wealthy family and ended up with a well-paid job.

The little diamond ring around your finger spoke volumes of the engagement with your beloved fiancee.

There was something that felt missing in your life though.

It was mundane, waking up to an excessively needy lover, who you didn't know if your feelings remained like the first time, plus enduring some bad rumors because you were privileged.

The butterflies previously resided in your stomach morphed into skull moths, and you weren't sure if you could contain them anymore.

Lingering touches and gazes started to seem overbearing, too suffocating, like vines wrapped around your form.

It was another exhausting anniversary of your five-year relationship, and while you were heading back home, texting with your betrothed, you were stabbed from behind.

The sky had already been coated in darkness, the streets had been emptied throughout, all were a perfect formula for a murder.

Being rich was a bitch was your dazed thought, as blood gushed out, red tainted the outfit you loved.

Blots danced in your vision, and when you messaged back a meaningless 'I love you', you officially died.

At least you escaped that boring existence, right?

Fate decided to toy with you by placing you in Genshin Impact, a game you spent most time investing in.

You remembered being proud of your C8 Qiqu and DPS Furina since you usually dragged the sooner to co-op.

So you spent two unremarkable years in Fontaine as a florist, while concealing your knowledge about the future, for all the fanfic you read, and since this world worshipped the Creator too.

You didn't want to get outed as this enigmatic possible imposter or deal with the characters' religious frenzies.

Furina was an interesting case to observe, and Neuvilette often made a few appearances there and then.

Melusines sometimes ran around before your shop, requesting beautiful bouquets.

Business was doing well, not worldwide famous nor near the bridge of close down, just an average shop you expected from an NPC

Strangely enough, you didn't feel guilty for abandoning your fiancee, instead enjoying the fresh freedom you longed for.

Away from her keen eyes, slimy fingers, and unnecessary jealousy.

Recently, there had been rumors about the appearance of a person who proclaimed herself to be the saintess, sent by the Creator.

You could already sense Furina's fuming in the court, and other archons' demeanors.

Oh well, you would just return back to work and watch as another Sagau Imposter fanfic unfolded. Surely, nothing could go wrong-

"[Name]?"

Fuck.

Out of all people, it was her all alone.

Her eyes, filled with twisted feelings, disgusted you.

Her figure engulfed you whole into an embrace, squeezing the breath of your body.

What made it worse, was that you had overestimated the characters' intelligence, and they genuinely believed she was the one.

You could feel their eyes prickling against your skin as you frantically pushed her away, ignoring the shakes of your body and the ragged breaths.

They didn't understand why the vessel of the benevolent and caring God was rejected by this mere mortal.

In their eyes, you should have been overjoyed upon being pampered by the saintess.

And so, the tranquility you experienced shattered easily underneath the pressure of these beings.

Your shop was demolished, your reputation was torn apart, and your privacy was out of the picture, as you were regarded as the saintess's lover.

Oh, if only they knew the saintess considered you her god.

You lost yourself to the person you vowed to stay away.

But the Fatui wasn't happy.

Tsarista was fuming, assuming you had cast a spell on her.

She sent her loyal followers to chase after you, in secret of course.

In the end, you were accused of fraud, tax evasion, and many other crimes.

The execution was held in front of the people, as the saintess drowned herself in sorrow and desperation, you died.

Your body sank deeper into the ocean, red blood mixed with the water, and your eyes closed.

It should have been you.

You were the one who arrived first.

Hell, you even helped more people than her! You knew more things about this forsaken game than her!

Stop looking at you with such pity!

Just because you were being rightfully paranoid didn't mean you were stupid!

There was a tale of a picturesque saintess and a mysterious traveler, alongside a weird creature.

They embarked on a journey to the seven lands of Teyvat.

What a shame, you died even before the story began.

"oh issue of the stars, may fate beest so kind to blesseth thee with anoth'r chance. may teyvat learneth to loveth thee, liketh how the 'saintess' loveth thee. "

[heliads]

Can I pretty please request Carlos Sainz x reader where she’s rly shy and gets worried that maybe he wants someone more outgoing but he tells her he loves her any way she is? Your writing is amazing 🫶🏻

anon i love you wholeheartedly please let me speak on carlos

masterlist

You are not who you are supposed to be. There are qualifications for being the girlfriend of a Formula One driver, you’re sure of it, probably even a style guide somewhere if you only bothered to look it up. Perfect hair. Clean makeup. Pretty, but doesn’t try too hard. Willing to give up their whole life to follow one man on mad jaunts across the planet. Wherever your guidebook is, though, you must have lost it long ago, because you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing, and worst of all, it’s starting to show.

You never should have gotten into this position in the first place. That isn’t to say that you hate it, far from it; dating Carlos Sainz is the best thing that ever happened to you, making you the happiest wrong person at the right time to ever exist. In every other universe, he’s probably seeing models or actresses, but here, he has you, and you’re willing to fight off every multiversal version of you just to keep everything as it is right now.

Your butterfly effect was quite stunning, actually. You ended up getting tickets to a Grand Prix through last minute cancellations. They were great, came with paddock passes and all that, and while you were lingering through Ferrari hospitality, Carlos happened to drop by to visit a friend and he noticed you while you were in line to get some water. He’s got the confidence of, well, a world class athlete, an adrenaline junkie, a professional race car driver, and so he introduced himself.

Sometimes, it’s just as easy as that. A father’s cousin’s roommate buys two tickets to a Grand Prix, then a stranger’s roommate’s brother gets sick, and suddenly you’re touching down off a plane overseas and walking through the door of paddock hospitality. You wear red, and you are seen. Just like that.

It took one more weekend before either of you knew that you wanted what you had to last for good. He texted you, followed you on Instagram and blew his cover of seeming cool by accidentally liking a post of yours from six years ago. And, when he saw you again, he knew that he wanted the spark between you to be something more, something like a bonfire.

Coincidence may have supported you thus far, but you don’t trust it not to abandon you. At the end of the day, you are you, you are Y/N L/N, and you are so far removed from Carlos’ world that it stuns you to think that you were even in his orbit so long as to meet him. If there are powers that be somewhere in the universe, they’re either playing a cruel joke or messing around to give you a helping hand. 

Hopefully, it’ll be the latter, but truly who knows at this point. As if it wasn’t surreal enough to introduce Carlos to your friends and family as Carlos Sainz, Formula One driver. As if it doesn’t blow your minds that people have started making Instagram accounts just dedicated to posting photos of you and your boyfriend whenever you’re seen out together.

The problem lies in the insanity of it all. You are not from this sort of life, you weren’t born into a silver spoon dynasty and you barely know how to interact with any of them now. You get along with the other WAGs as best you can; Heidi’s lovely, sure, and you were friendly with Charlotte until she disappeared, but sometimes it feels like it’s just you and your boyfriend against the world. Of any ally to pick, Carlos would be your top choice each and every time, but still. The fact remains that he will go out and race and leave you to your own devices, and you lack the extroverted impulses to social climb with everyone else.

This, then, is the main concern. You can pick out whatever designer clothes you want, goodness knows Carlos has offered to buy you anything already, and you can get your nails and hair done before each and every race, but that doesn’t change the fact that you, at your core, are never going to enjoy the paparazzi circus whenever you have to brave it.

It’s just not your scene, that’s all. You’re on the quieter side, happy to spend time with a few key friends but increasingly nervous in large crowds. Formula One is all large crowds, as you’ve discovered; thousands of fans, hundreds of engineers and team members, plus drivers and girlfriends and best friends. So many eyes, all on you. So many voices all shouting over each other.

You love Carlos, though, and you love him wholeheartedly, so you gather up your courage and go to race weekends when you can. Every time Carlos sees you in the crowd, he smiles so widely his friends tease him for weeks, and he runs to you first after every podium and strong finish. You want to be there for your boyfriend, truly you do, you just wonder if all of this should come easier to you than it does.

Also, you wonder if Carlos wishes the same thing. He has been nothing but perfect to you, so the spirals of guilt currently tangling their way through your insides are purely of your own creation, but what if he truly does think like that? Carlos must see the other WAGs, how they shine and sparkle with attention instead of feeling the urge to run. Wouldn’t he want that? Wouldn’t he get frustrated that you can’t be like the rest?

Thousands of girls in the world, and he picks you. You don’t know if it’s sweet or genuinely frightening. He wanted you out of everyone, yes, but he could replace you in a snap, swapping you out like some useless part on his car. There is nothing about you that cannot be replicated in any other girl. Even Charles did it, in a way, got himself a new girlfriend that’s a dead ringer for Charlotte. Carlos has no reason to keep you except for something he knows and you don’t.

The guessing will drive you mad, maybe, but you’ll lose your sanity long before that just trying to keep up with everything in his fast-paced life. You’ve been to prior F1 races, obviously, it’s how you met Carlos in the first place and it’s also how you kept him, but this upcoming weekend is different, this is Barcelona. Carlos is the center of attention at his home race, and every step he takes, a new storm of people is flooding in to ask him for autographs, selfies, anything to remind them that he’s real and right before their eyes.

Carlos doesn’t ask for a whole lot, and he certainly didn’t force you to come to this race, but you saw the hope in his dark eyes when he brought it up oh-so-casually at a dinner last week. You had assured him that you would go there to cheer him on along with the rest of his home crowd, and Carlos had been delighted for the rest of the evening.

You are happy to go, truly, but it’s taking everything in you to keep your smile up in front of the reporters and crowds and fans, and it’s just the first day. All you’re handling right now is qualifying, not even the actual race. In the back of your mind, a voice whispers that it’s only going to get worse from here on out, but when Carlos looks back at you as you wind through the paddock, you just smile and tell him you’re glad to be there with him. You’re here for him, after all, and Carlos is busy enough with race stuff that he won’t want to hear your complaints.

That’s what you keep repeating to yourself throughout the entirety of that day. Carlos qualifies well and is properly pleased about it, as he should be. The possibility of a podium or perhaps even a win for his home race has been one of his top goals for the season, and he’s as close as he can get to it right now. He earnestly talks about it the whole drive back to your hotel, but once you’re back in the safety and peace of the room, the conversation abruptly switches back to you.

Carlos sheds his jacket at the door, watches you flop down onto the bed with a smile on his face, then asks you pointedly, “And how are you doing, amor?”

You smile back at him, the expression trained to perfection after being tested so many times today. “Great! Glad that everything’s going so well for you. I’ll be cheering for P1 tomorrow.”

In truth, you’re tired more than anything. People kept coming up to you all day, assuming that taking a selfie with Carlos’ girlfriend was at least half as good as getting to see him. They gave you all manner of gifts and things to give to him, extracting promises that you’d tell him dozens of different people wished him well. You knew you’d get a lot more attention when you started dating Carlos, but the lack of personal space and privacy at the races is truly unlike anything you’d experienced before.

Carlos has been dating you long enough to pick up on this, apparently, because he furrows his brow and sits down on the edge of the bed next to you. “I’ll be glad to see you tomorrow, but do you want to tell me what is really on your mind? Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I know you, no?”

You sigh, covering your face with one of your arms. Carlos deflects from this attempt to hide by gently pulling your arm away, pressing a kiss to your forehead to make up for it. “Talk to me, cariño.”

You look sorrowfully at him, but when it becomes clear that Carlos won’t let you go until you confess, you give in. “It’s just a lot, I guess. The people and the cameras and everything.”

Carlos frowns. “I can get them to go away, you know that. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You look away. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to hear it. All of the other girlfriends have no problem with it, just me. I thought you’d want me to be more outgoing, so I tried, I really did, it’s just hard for me, I don’t know why.”

When you dare to risk a glance up at Carlos, you’re surprised to notice that he looks genuinely hurt. “Sweetheart, you didn’t think that I would actually be unhappy about that? I just want you to be happy. Don’t think about me.”

You let out a low breath. “I know, it’s just– I want to be like the rest, really. I don’t want this to be a reason–”

You cut yourself off, distracted by Carlos’ hands still wrapped around yours. Carlos picks up on the obviously dropped subject, though, and looks at you with fresh concern. “You don’t want it to be a reason for what?”

“That you would break up with me,” you whisper.

That’s it, then. That’s the truth. If you can’t live with Carlos’ lifestyle, why wouldn’t he leave you for someone who could? It makes perfect sense to you, but judging by Carlos’ expression, that logic couldn’t be further from his mind.

“No, Y/N,” he says, “That’s not right at all. I don’t want to break up with you, like, ever. Not because of this. I don’t want someone else, I want you. I love you, querida. I love the girl who showed up out of nowhere and made me forget about every other woman in the world. I love the girl who shows up to my home race even though it stresses her out because she wants to be there for me. I love you, Y/N. No one else. Just you.”

And, well, in the face of such passionate declarations, who could stand firm in their own self-pity? Certainly not you. You smile and let him kiss you again and again until you can’t see straight, and after that it is better, it is all better. Hearing it straight from Carlos is better than trying to guess at it. It lets your worries finally sink off into nothingness. It’s just you and him, just what he wants. Just what you want.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy