#kiss of life matching icons

[newjeanzs]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀kiss of life icons!💋

like or reblog if you save/use.

[staincastle]

⠀⠀⠀ midas touch pack!? . . ✶

[yizaicons]

    𐐪  kiss of life pack ♡ .. like or reblog if you save/use, give credits

[itsmerobinnow]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀᳸⠀ׅ⠀ֹ꧊ᛧ𝗄ֵ𝖾𝆬⠀ׅ𝗈𝗋ֺ⠀۪𝗋𝖾ֺ𝖻𝗅ֵ𝗈𝆬𝗀⠀ׅ⠀ֺ♥⠀𓈒

[skylixzy]

[mocchas]

belle kiof icons

like and reblog if you save it

[ofcatsandstars]

woah that's some pretty intense eye contact y'all have going on. you want a moment? did something happen?

[redjayg]

Icons match (kiss of life)

› Pegou? Curta/reblog + credite a redjay.

› Todas as metadinhas em: 🐱 e headers: 😼

[cakewritez]

𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊.. 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄? PT.1

An: FLUFF. I NEED FLUFF. IM TIRED OF SEEING DOOMED RELATIONSHIPS I NEED FLUFF. Not proofread!!

s: it's over. You don't have to sing, you don't have to dance. It's all over. Your free. // rounds are out of order

cw: slight asphyxiation on Ivan's part CUZ ROUND 6 WAS.. something !! kinda suggestive?? Mentions of blood, [I literally do not know how to tag warnings] also I have not watched any theories so this is what I got from watching the series :^

☆ You can't believe it, you're free. No more idol shows, no more competitions, no more death defying stages tugging on your heartstrings fighting the ones you love. Speaking of love, your lover. Are they okay? Did they make it out? ☆

𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐍..

Ivan had his match against Till, the crowd and the atmosphere was dizzing. The lights shined brightly on the two as they sang, the tension as Ivan glanced at the score rose higher and higher. The end of the song approaching as, the lights went off. Soft mummers of the crowd arose as they talked amongst each other on what happened.

The lights came back on, with the two nowhere to be seen. A missing icon appeared on the giant board as footsteps could be heard rushing, leaving the stage.

Mizi and Hyuna successfully got there on time. With the last few ticks of the clock left to go, the girls had removed their collars and earpieces.

Ivan wiped the blood from his mouth as his other hand was placed to the side of his side, it was a minor injury. That's what he told himself.

You squirmed past Mizi and Hyuna, making sure Ivan was okay. Your hands and eyes payed immediate attention to his face. Your hands were already on both of his cheeks, checking the remainder of blood that stayed over after he wiped it off. "Ivan! Are you alright? Did they get you?" You asked worriedly, as your eyes darted towards his frame.

He gave you a soft smile for a moment and caressed your face with his normal hand. “I'm fine, it's just a scratch.” He mentioned.

You grabbed the bandages and started to wrap his waist, earning a hiss from the taller man in front of you. Your bodies missed each other's touch, longing for these moments where you only had each other. No stage, just you and him.

The wound on his side would heal eventually, it wasn't that deep.

Ivan's hands grabbed your face, one of his hands were placed on your jaw while the other rested on your throat. He gave it a squeeze earning a shocked gasp from you, as he took that opportunity to kiss you. His approach was quick and swift, catching you off guard. It wasn't enough to choke you, but it was enough where you could still breathe.

Ivan kept kissing your lips, harder and desperate. Like he was going to lose you, not like you almost lost him.

Ivan let you go, his eyes dazed and full of content. After you regained your breath, he pulled you into a tight hug.

“I missed you so much. I have you all to myself. My black sorrow.”

𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋..

Till had fought against Ivan, the stage blinding his view of the aliens. Those creatures he hated so much. He wanted to be free, to escape from the chains he had been held in all his life. His saving grace, his light, his muse. You. He had to get back to you.

His drive was wavering, the exhaustion settling in. Hell, he didn't even know if you had won or lost.

Till had to continue.

Halfway through the performance, the lights flickered as smoke filled the stage. The aliens cheered, thinking it was part of the show. The roars of the crowd made the perfect cover to hide their footsteps.

Hyuna and Ivan dragged Till behind the stage, taking off and destorying the collar and earpiece.

You were pacing around in a safe room as Mizi waited for the signal that everything went as planned.

After a minute, the signal went off. Till was held up by Hyuna and Ivan. Exhaustion took over his body, his eyes lacked any light. He was free, but what was that freedom without you?

You rushed to his side at the sight of him, you scanned his figure to make sure of no injuries. Till's eyes shone brighter at the sight of you, he gave a weary smile and pulled you into a tight hug. You were alive. So alive, and real. He missed you.

You were with him till the end.

Thanks for reading !! ♡ I kinda lost motive but pt.2 will include Mizi and Luka !! ((o(^∇^)o))

[carpenterscupid]

halloween- old man!logan x college!reader

Logan leaned against the doorframe, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched her twirl in front of the mirror. She was adjusting her blonde wig, smoothing down the curls to match the iconic look she was going for. The skimpy red swimsuit hugged her curves, the neckline plunging just enough to make his brow furrow. It was unmistakable—she was dressed as Pamela Anderson, and it was a sight that stirred something protective in him.

“You sure you wanna wear that?” he muttered, his gruff voice barely masking the concern behind his words.

She turned to him, flashing a teasing smile. “Come on, Logan. It’s Halloween. I’m supposed to be a little scandalous.” She adjusted the thin straps of her swimsuit, doing a quick spin. “Do you like it?”

He wanted to tell her she looked ridiculous, that she should put on something more modest, but he couldn’t. She looked incredible, and she knew it. That was the problem. “You know I do,” he grumbled, shifting his weight uncomfortably. “Just… don’t see why you gotta go out to some party dressed like that.”

She rolled her eyes, walking over to him and draping her arms around his neck. “Because I’m twenty, and it’s Halloween. It’s just a party. I’ll be fine.” She leaned up, brushing her lips softly against his, and for a moment, he let himself melt into the kiss. “Stop worrying so much, old man.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything more. He knew she was right. She deserved to have fun, to live her life without him hovering over her like a dark cloud. But as she grabbed her little bag and turned to leave, he felt a gnawing anxiety settle in his gut. She was heading out to a night of drinking, surrounded by college guys who would be all too eager to get close to her. And all he could do was stay behind and hope she’d be okay.

“Text me if you need anything,” he said, his voice gruff but gentle. She nodded, giving him a reassuring smile before heading out the door.

The hours passed slowly. Logan tried to distract himself, flipping through the channels on TV, opening a beer, but nothing could quiet the unease gnawing at him. His mind kept drifting back to her, imagining all the ways things could go wrong. What if she got too drunk? What if some guy tried to get handsy with her? The thought made his blood boil, and he found himself pacing the floor, checking his phone more times than he’d like to admit.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his keys and headed out, his mind set on finding her. As he drove through the night, the streets were filled with costumed party-goers, but his eyes scanned for the address she had mentioned earlier. He found it soon enough—a house spilling over with loud music, flashing lights, and clusters of college students milling around the front yard, red cups in hand.

Logan pushed his way inside, his rugged, weathered appearance making heads turn. He was out of place here, a grim contrast to the carefree, costumed kids around him. But he didn’t care; he had only one thought in mind. He scanned the room, eyes sharp, searching for her. And then he saw her—up on a table, her blonde wig askew, dancing with a drink in her hand. She was laughing, completely unaware of the eyes on her, or the way some guys were leering as they watched her move.

Something snapped inside him. He saw one guy, a cocky grin plastered on his face, leaning a little too close, his eyes trailing over her in a way that made Logan’s fists clench. Without thinking, Logan shoved his way forward, grabbing the guy by the shirt and landing a solid punch across his jaw. The music stopped for a second, a hush falling over the room as everyone turned to see who the hell this old man was and what he was doing.

Ignoring the stares, Logan reached up, wrapping his arm around her waist and hoisting her off the table. She squealed, her laughter turning to surprise as he threw her over his shoulder. “Logan! What are you doing? Put me down!” she protested, but he didn’t listen. He was already walking out, shoving past the crowd, his grip on her firm.

By the time they got to the car, she was pouting, crossing her arms as she slid into the passenger seat. “You’re such a drag,” she muttered, her voice slurred. “I was having fun.”

Logan ignored her, starting the engine and pulling away from the curb. “You were about to fall off that damn table,” he said, his tone more tired than angry. “Had enough fun for one night.”

She huffed, slumping against the window, her eyes half-closed. “You didn’t have to punch that guy…”

“He was looking at you like a piece of meat,” Logan snapped, his knuckles still sore from the hit. “I wasn’t gonna stand there and let him.”

She didn’t respond, just sighed and closed her eyes, the alcohol making her drowsy. By the time they got back to his place, she was barely awake, mumbling incoherently as he opened the car door and scooped her up again, carrying her inside. She protested weakly, but he just shook his head, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” he said softly, carrying her up the stairs to their bed. She didn’t answer, her head resting against his shoulder, her blonde wig slipping off slightly. Once he laid her down, she stirred, blinking up at him with a sleepy smile.

“I love you, Logan,” she whispered, her words barely audible.

Logan’s heart softened, and he reached down, gently tugging the wig off her head and tossing it aside. He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “Yeah, I know,” he murmured, his voice low. “Get some sleep, kid.”

She was already drifting off, her breathing evening out as she curled up under the covers. Logan sat there for a moment, watching her, a mix of relief and affection settling over him. He knew he couldn’t protect her from everything, and maybe he was overbearing sometimes, but he’d rather be overbearing than lose her.

As he turned off the light and crawled into bed beside her, he felt her shift, her hand reaching for his, and he took it, holding on tight.

[pucksandpower]

Brake Balance

Charles Leclerc x mafiosa!Reader

Summary: something about the brake issues that Charles had to deal with in Bahrain just seems off … so you take matters into your own hands while your boyfriend is none the wiser

Warnings: depictions of violence and minor-character murder

You make your way through the paddock of the Bahrain International Circuit, weaving between team members and mechanics as they go about their pre-race routines. The energy in the air is electric, everyone buzzing with anticipation for the first race of the season later tonight.

You flash your paddock pass at security and head into the Ferrari garage, eyes scanning the organized chaos for the familiar mop of brown hair.

There he is, sitting in his red race suit that matches the iconic color of the Ferrari he drives, focused intently as his mechanics make some last minute adjustments. You walk up behind Charles and place your hands over his eyes.

“Guess who?” You say playfully.

Charles reaches up and removes your hands, a smile breaking across his face as he turns in his seat. “Ah, mon cœur! My favorite surprise.”

You lean down and kiss him softly. “How are things looking for today?”

“Good, good,” he nods. “The team had to change the left front brake duct exit deflector earlier, just as a precaution. But I’m feeling optimistic, the car has been solid all weekend. I think I might even be able to challenge Max for the win if everything goes to plan.”

His confidence makes you smile. Charles has been working so hard, both physically and mentally, to start this season strong. You know a win today would mean the world to him.

“I’ll be cheering the loudest when I see you on that top step today,” you say.

Charles grins. “We’ll see. Still have a race to get through first.”

You lean in to give him a quick kiss and head to the back of the garage so you’re out of the way. The mechanics are in full focus mode now, choreographing their dance around Charles’ car with practiced precision.

Charles goes through his usual pre-race routine — sips of water, reviewing data on the screens, and loosening up his muscles. He’s the picture of calm, but you know him well enough to see the coiled adrenaline thrumming just under the surface, ready to be unleashed once he settles into the cockpit.

The time comes to head out to the grid. Charles pauses before he puts his helmet on, meeting your gaze. You close the distance between you and cup his face in your hands, kissing his lips sweetly. Then you take the helmet from him and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips over the smooth surface where his would be.

“Be safe out there,” you say softly.

He nods, face disappearing behind the tinted visor, and climbs into the Ferrari. You watch as the car pulls away, weaving between other vehicles making their way to the starting grid. With a deep breath, you head deeper into the garage and take a seat next to Charles’ performance coach, Andrea. He hands you a headset so you can listen to Charles’ radio during the race.

“Let’s hope for a good one today,” Andrea says.

You nod, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you fit the headset over your ears. On the monitors, you see Charles lining up on the grid in P2 after the formation lap, Max Verstappen’s Red Bull beside him on the front row in P1. The lights go out and the cars leap forward, engines roaring to life. Charles gets a good start, but Max keeps the lead through the first few turns.

The pack of cars higher up on the starting grid stays bunched up through the first few turns, but then you notice Charles starting to fall back little by little. His lap time slows as Max opens up a gap in front.

“The car doesn’t feel right, something with the front end,” Charles says. Your brow furrows in concern.

Only a lap later, George Russell in the Mercedes overtakes Charles on turn 4. Then Perez in the other Red Bull breezes past not long after.

“Come on Charles, stay focused,” you murmur under your breath. But things only seem to be getting worse. Carlos battles with Charles and eventually gets by, which frustrates you to no end. Charles fighting his own teammate for position is the last thing you want to see.

“Something felt very wrong with this set, the fronts were locking up like crazy,” Charles reports over the radio. Your heart sinks. Andrea shakes his head, equally perplexed.

The issues continue to persist. “What’s going on with my front left?” Charles asks, audible tension in his voice. “I just cannot get out of front locking. Everywhere ...”

Xavi, his race engineer, replies calmly, “We have temperature imbalance, higher front left.”

“How much is the imbalance?” Charles asks.

“Around 100 degrees.”

You grimace. That kind of discrepancy could make the car undriveable. Sure enough, Charles continues to struggle. It’s clear he’s fighting with the car now rather than racing the drivers around him.

“My car is fully going to the right when I am braking. With this I cannot fight, it’s dangerous,” Charles says, frustration seeping into his tone. You chew your lip anxiously. The rational part of you wishes Charles would just retire the car before he gets himself hurt trying to wrestle with it. But you also know that’s never been in Charles’ nature — he’ll keep fighting until the very last lap, no matter what.

Lap after lap, Charles battles to keep the car under control. “I think we can forget about driving now. It’s pulling everywhere,” he finally concedes. For a brief moment, you wonder if he’ll pull into the pits and call it a day. But no, your boyfriend is never one to simply give up. After the radio, through sheer force of will, Charles somehow overtakes George to reclaim P4. You can only imagine how hard he must be having to fight to keep the car in the track.

In the end, it’s a disappointing P4 for Charles while his teammate makes it on the podium in P3. As Carlos is lead to the cooldown room with Max and Checo, you watch Charles, frustration etched across his face as he tugs off his helmet and balaclava. He doesn’t even glance your way before the mechanics descend on him to start looking over the car.

Clearly the brake issues have cost him any chance at challenging for the win today. Most other drivers would have given up even trying to reclaim P4. But not your Charles. Never your Charles. Your heart aches for him.

Charles gets led away swiftly for the usual post-race weighing and interviews. You know from his body language that he’s utterly deflated by today’s results.

While the reporters pepper him with questions, you pull out your phone and scroll through your contacts. Enough is enough — something is clearly not right with Charles’ car and you want answers.

Your finger hovers over the call button as you contemplate who to reach out to. The last thing you want is for Charles to have to fight against his own machine again. A solution needs to be found immediately, and you know just the person who can help.

With a determined nod, you press call and lift the phone to your ear, ready to get to the bottom of these brake issues once and for all.

***

The phone only rings once before a gruff voice answers. “Boss?”

“Hello, Gianluca,” you say. “I need you to do something for me.”

You go on to explain in detail the brake issues Charles faced during the race, how the problems started right after they replaced the left front brake duct exit deflector.

“I don’t think it was just bad luck,” you say. “Something seems off about the whole situation. I want you to look into it, see if anyone on Charles’ side of the garage could have tampered with his car.”

Gianluca is quiet for a moment. “Sabotage, you think?”

“Possibly. I just … I can’t shake this feeling that someone meant for this to happen to Charles’ car. He truly thought he could at least try to challenge Max for the win, then suddenly it’s like he’s driving an entirely different machine. Too much of a coincidence for my liking.”

“I’ll look into it boss, don’t you worry,” Gianluca says. “I’ll go through the team with a fine tooth comb, see if anything seems out of the ordinary. If someone did intentionally compromise Charles’ car, I’ll find out who and how.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Gianluca. Let me know as soon as you learn anything. Charles can’t afford issues like this again.”

“You got it. I’ll be in touch.”

The call ends and you lean back against the garage wall, gaze fixed unseeingly out across the pit lane. Your mind turns over the events of the race, Charles’ baffled frustration over the radio. He’s worked too hard for too long to have valuable points stolen away by something like this. If there is sabotage afoot within the team, you’ll get to the bottom of it.

A few days later you’re back in your study after flying home from Bahrain. A knock at the door interrupts your work and you call for them to enter. Gianluca steps in, an uncharacteristically grim look on his face.

“Boss,” he greets you. Wordlessly, he steps forward and places a thick manila folder on your desk. You flip it open, eyes scanning over photos, documents, even what looks like stills of CCTV footage. Gianluca remains silent, allowing you to take it all in.

“I went over every inch of security camera video from the Bahrain paddock and garage,” Gianluca finally says. “And I found something.”

He leans over your desk and flips to a page in the folder, tapping a finger on a freeze frame showing one of Charles’ mechanics.

“This is Tomaso, one of the brake technicians,” Gianluca explains. “I noticed him acting strange all race day. Fidgety. Nervous. He was trying to hide it but his body language gave it away.”

Your eyes narrow as you study the photo. There is a shifty, almost guilty look about the man as he glances over his shoulder.

“I watched him like a hawk after that,” Gianluca continues. “When the team went to change the brake duct exit deflector, that’s when I saw it happen.”

He flips to another page, this one showing screen captures of CCTV footage in the Ferrari garage a few hours before the race start. You can make out Tomaso slipping the replacement deflector into his pocket before taking out another piece and installing it in Charles’ car. Your blood turns cold.

“He tampered with the part,” Gianluca confirms grimly. “There’s no doubt in my mind he switched that deflector with a compromised one. Sabotage, just like you suspected.”

You sit back, shaking your head in disgusted disbelief. “Why? Why would he do this?”

Gianluca shrugs. “Hard to say for sure. Could be someone paid him off, wants to see Charles fail. But what I know for certain is that he meant to damage Charles’ car.”

You drum your fingers on your desk, thinking hard. This level of betrayal from someone Charles trusts, it’s unthinkable. An affront you won’t let stand.

“You’ve done excellent work, Gianluca,” you finally say, meeting his gaze. “Thank you for getting to the bottom of this. I’ll handle it from here.”

Gianluca nods. “Of course, boss. Let me know if you need anything else.”

He turns and leaves your study, closing the door quietly behind him. You lean back in your chair, fingers steepled under your chin. Your expression is stone, but internally your thoughts roil with anger. Tomaso will pay for this, you’ll see to that.

Charles has enough challenges to face without sabotage from his own team. Your resolve hardens — you won’t stop until justice is served and he can race with full confidence again. The treachery ends now.

***

After Gianluca leaves, your mind turns over what to do about Tomaso. The team flew straight from Bahrain to Saudi Arabia to prepare for the next race, so he’s out of your reach for now. Still, you won’t let him slip away that easily. You pick up your phone and call a trusted associate, instructing him to organize a surveillance team to keep constant eyes on Tomaso until you arrive in Jeddah yourself.

The days crawl by painfully slow as you wait to confront the saboteur. You resist the urge to call Fred Vasseur and have Tomaso removed from the team immediately — better to handle this yourself. Finally, it’s time to fly out for the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. Upon landing, your associate meets you at the airport.

“We have eyes on the target,” he reports. “He’s currently at the hotel bar, quite intoxicated.”

You nod curtly. “Good. Let’s pay him a visit.”

You’re led to the hotel and pointed towards the bar. Sure enough, there’s Tomaso, stumbling drunkenly out the door into the night. Now is your chance. You follow him down the street, waiting until he turns into a shadowy alley to make your move. In a flash you have him by the collar, shoving him against the brick wall.

“What the hell, let me go!” Tomaso slurs, trying to shove you off. But drinking has made him clumsy and weak.

“I don’t think so, Tomaso,” you reply coldly. “We need to have a little chat.”

His eyes widen in fear and confusion. You press on before he can respond.

“Let’s see, Tomaso Barbieri, born May 5th, 1992 in Turin. Moved to Maranello in 2021 to begin work as a mechanic with Scuderia Ferrari. Parents Lucia and Giacomo Barbieri, both schoolteachers. Sister Cecilia studying abroad in London.”

As you rattle off details about his personal life, Tomaso’s eyes grow wider and wider.

“What the hell, how do you know all that?” He stammers. “Who are you? Does Charles know the ugly truth about his girlfriend?”

You fix him with an icy stare. “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that I know exactly who you are, Tomaso. A mechanic for Ferrari … and apparently a master of espionage and sabotage in your spare time.”

Tomaso’s eyes dart wildly, still trying to make sense of the situation in his inebriated state. He attempts an unconvincing laugh.

“What are you talking about man? Sabotage? I think you’ve had too much to drink ...”

Your response is to slam him hard against the wall, causing him to grunt in pain. You lean in close, anger simmering in your eyes.

“Let’s cut the bullshit, Tomaso. I know what you did in Bahrain, switching out the brake duct deflector to sabotage Charles’ car. Did you think you could get away with it? That there wouldn’t be consequences?”

Up close, you can see the color drain from his face, eyes wide with fear. He tries to retain some composure.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeats weakly. “I would never sabotage Charles’ car, I want him to win ...”

You slam him against the wall again, cutting off his lies.

“I said, enough bullshit!” you snarl. “We have you on video. We saw everything. We know you pocketed the real deflector and installed a defective one instead.”

He is trembling now, any hint of drunkenness replaced by sobering fear.

“Please,” he whimpers pathetically. “I’ll do anything, just please let me go. I made a mistake ...”

You shake your head in disgust. “A mistake? You betrayed Charles’ trust and tried to ruin his race out of what? Jealousy? Greed?”

Tomaso says nothing, eyes downcast in shame. You take a breath and continue in a low, menacing tone.

“Here are your options. One: you go directly to Vasseur first thing in the morning and resign from Ferrari immediately. You will leave the team and ensure you are never so much as in the same country as Charles again. Two: I deal with you myself, in a much less pleasant manner. The choice is yours, Tomaso. What’s it going to be?”

He meets your steely gaze again, jaw clenched. “I can’t just quit,” he says hoarsely. “My job is my life. You might as well just kill me.”

You purse your lips and shake your head. “I was afraid you’d say that. Very well.”

In one swift motion you draw your gun from its concealed holster and press the barrel firmly under Tomaso’s chin. He recoils in terror, plastered back against the wall.

“Last chance,” you say calmly. “Walk away from Ferrari and never look back, or your days end tonight in this alley.”

Sweat drips down his brow as the gun digs harder into his throat. His eyes are saucers of fear, flitting between your steely gaze and the weapon poised to end his life.

“Well?” You ask after a long silence. “What’s it going to be?”

Tomaso swallows hard, Adam’s apple bobbing against the gun barrel. When he speaks, his voice is a terrified croak.

“I … I won’t quit. I can’t.” He closes his eyes in resignation, awaiting his fate.

You click your tongue in disappointment. “That’s unfortunate. I wish it hadn’t come to this.”

Your finger tightens almost imperceptibly on the trigger …

“Wait, wait!” Tomaso cries out, hands raised in desperation. “I’ll do it, I’ll quit! Just please, don’t hurt me!”

You pause, gun still aimed steadily at his throat. “And why should I believe you now?”

He swallows hard, eyes brimming with tears. “I swear, I’ll resign first thing tomorrow. You’ll never see me near the team again. Just let me go, I’m begging you!”

You consider him coldly for a moment before lowering the gun. Tomaso sags back against the wall in relief. But you’re not done with him yet.

“Who paid you?” You demand. “Who put you up to sabotaging Charles’ car?”

The blood drains from his face again. “I can’t tell you that. They’ll kill me, and my family ...”

In a flash the gun is back at his throat, your grip like iron on his shirt collar.

“I assure you, I can do much worse than they ever could,” you say menacingly. “Now give me a name, or you can say goodbye.”

Tomaso shakes uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face. You can see the internal struggle, debating which is the lesser evil — defying you or those he conspired with. Finally, he slumps in defeat and leans in close, voice barely a whisper.

“It was ...”

He utters a name directly into your ear. Your eyes widen briefly in surprise before narrowing again. You release Tomaso and take a step back, processing this new information.

“I see,” you say slowly. You nod over your shoulder and two of your associates emerge from the shadows.

“Get him out of my sight,” you order. They grab Tomaso roughly by the arms. He sags between them, the fight gone out of him completely. You fix him with an icy stare.

“My men will escort you to the airport,” you inform him. “You will be on the first flight out of this hemisphere. And you are never to go near Ferrari or Charles again — don’t even think about trying to contact the team to explain yourself. As far as they will be concerned, you simply resigned. Am I clear?”

Tomaso nods wordlessly, defeated. The men begin dragging him away towards a waiting black SUV.

“Oh, and Tomaso?” You call after him. He glances back warily. “If I ever see or hear of you so much as setting foot in a paddock again, you won’t get a second chance. You’ll simply disappear. Permanently.”

The color drains from his face one final time. Then he is shoved into the back of the SUV, the door slamming shut behind him. You watch impassively as the vehicle drives off into the night, carrying the saboteur away for good.

Or so he thinks.

Unbeknownst to Tomaso, you have contacts everywhere, including at his destination. The second he steps off the plane, thinking he’s escaped your wrath, your local associates will be waiting. And his life will be ended swiftly and permanently, as promised. You don't make idle threats after all.

Betrayal of this magnitude must be punished, no matter how far Tomaso runs. The message will be clear — cross you, and nowhere on Earth will be safe. You've given the order, and your associates are nothing if not ruthlessly efficient. By the time the sun rises, there will be one less threat to Charles’ success. The sabotage ends here and now. You'll see to that personally, no matter the cost.

For a moment you simply stand alone in the dark alley, processing everything. This is bigger than you initially realized. Tomaso was clearly just a pawn, the sabotage orchestrated by someone higher up the chain — someone with enough power and influence to scare a man into risking his career and life.

Your jaw clenches as you think about Charles being targeted like this, not only being robbed of a deserved finish but also put in danger as collateral. Well, it ends now. The shadowy orchestrator thinks they can get away with playing games in the dark? They’re about to realize just how big of a mistake they’ve made.

Now that you have a name, you can start unraveling the web, tracing every thread back to find where it leads. And when you do find the spider at the center? You’ll make sure they can never endanger Charles again. For good.

Satisfied with this plan, you straighten your dress and exit the alley onto the brighter streets. Time to put your considerable resources to work. Phone records, financials, travel records — you’ll dig through it all, leave no stone unturned.

And you have a feeling the name Tomaso gave you is only the first thread. This goes deeper. But it doesn’t matter. You’ve dealt with far more dangerous criminal elements before. These shadow games don’t scare you. You’ll keep following the threads until you reach the source, uprooting the entire enterprise in the process.

By the time you reach your car, your phone is already buzzing with incoming calls and updates from your associates. They know the drill by now — when you give the word, they mobilize into action immediately, utilizing the full extent of your influence and power.

For you, they’ll tap every resource, call in every favor owed. Because you protect what’s yours at all costs. And Charles? He’s under your protection now, whether he knows it or not. So for his sake, you’re going to find the ones trying to undermine him, and you’re going to tear out the threat root and stem. Permanently.

Let them keep playing their games for now, oblivious to the axe hanging over their heads. They’ll find out soon enough that nobody crosses you and gets away with it. And when that time comes, no mercy will be shown. No loose ends left to unravel.

Time to remind them exactly why your reputation precedes you in certain circles, why your name is uttered only in hushed whispers. They’ll regret the day they dared threaten someone you care about. You’ll see to that personally.

With your jaw set in determination, you climb into the idling car. Time to go hunting.

***

Two days after dealing with Tomaso, you make your way through the Jeddah Corniche Circuit paddock towards the Ferrari motorhome.

Your stiletto heels click along the pavement and you glance down, frowning slightly at the flecks of blood still staining the pointed toes of your red soles. Such a shame about these Louboutins, you really love this pair. But a bit of blood is a small price to pay for protecting Charles, especially after personally dealing with the orchestrator who had been paying Tomaso off.

You had tracked them down and made sure they could never threaten Charles’ success again. Subtly, you crouch down and wipe at the stains, managing to remove the worst of it.

Satisfied, you straighten and continue on your way. The familiar bright red motorhome comes into view and you sweep inside, immediately spotting Charles standing with some team members. His face lights up when he sees you, excusing himself to rush over.

“Mon amour, you made it!” He exclaims, enveloping you in a tight hug. You melt against him, breathing in his familiar scent.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss seeing you race for anything,” you reply, pecking his lips sweetly.

Charles takes your hand, leading you to a quiet corner where you can talk. “I missed you so much while you were away,” he says. “But I’m so glad you’re here now.”

You smile and stroke his cheek. “Me too, darling. But I’m here now and I’ll be cheering the loudest for you all race.”

Charles’ grin falters a bit. “It’s been a strange few days actually. Tomaso, one of my mechanics, just up and quit in the middle of the week. No explanation or anything.”

You school your features into a look of surprise. “Really? That’s so odd.”

Charles nods. “Very weird timing to just resign like that. But maybe it’s for the best if his heart wasn’t fully in it anymore.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” you agree. “The team is better off without any negativity.”

Before Charles can reply, Andrea enters the motorhome. “Charles, time for some quick physio before the race.”

Charles sighs but nods, giving you a swift kiss before following Andrea out. You watch him go fondly before making your way trackside to the Ferrari garage. The mechanics are in race mode, voices terse and movements precise as they make final adjustments on Charles’ car.

You stay back, letting them work, thoughts drifting back to everything you did to get to this point. A small price to pay to ensure Charles can race with a fair chance again.

Finally it’s time for Charles to get in the car. You approach as he’s putting on his helmet and balaclava, stealing a tender kiss that he returns happily. Then you lift the helmet and slide it gently into place, brushing your lips softly over the smooth surface where his lips would be. Your ritual.

“Be safe out there,” you murmur. Charles squeezes your hand, then lowers himself into the cockpit. You watch tensely as the car pulls away, the lights of the circuit glittering against the dark night sky.

In the garage you pace anxiously throughout the race, listening to the radio chatter. Again Charles qualified P2, behind Max Verstappen’s Red Bull. But this time, you have no sabotage to worry about. The Ferrari proves fast and consistent all race, not quite keeping pace with the Red Bull but allowing Charles to maintain P2 smoothly.

The SF-24 doesn’t have the speed to challenge Max, but there’s no issues, no sudden grip loss or components failing. Your shoulders finally uncoil with relief as Charles crosses the line to take P2, securing a podium finish.

The garage explodes into cheers and applause as Charles pulls into parc fermé. He’s beaming as he climbs from the car, pulling off his gloves and balaclava. You run over to the barriers and throw your arms around him ecstatically as soon as he nears.

“I’m so proud of you!” You exclaim. Charles hugs you back tightly.

“Thank you, mon cœur,” he says warmly. “It felt good to finally have a clean race again.”

You just smile knowingly, heart bursting with joy at seeing Charles on the podium where he belongs. During the celebrations, he keeps meeting your gaze in the crowd, smiling and pointing down to you in the crowd of red. As he sprays champagne with Max and Checo, he looks utterly elated and at peace. No frustration or disappointment, just the satisfaction of a hard fought race with the result he deserved.

Afterwards, in the privacy of Charles’ room, he takes you into his arms again. “I don’t know what changed or why, but the car just felt right this weekend,” he says. “It makes me so optimistic for the rest of the season.”

You stroke his face gently. “You deserve it. All your hard work is paying off.” Inside, you allow yourself a small, satisfied smile. Charles doesn’t need to know just how much work went on behind the scenes to get here. He only needs to focus on driving his heart out, and securing the championships you know he’s destined for. The rest is simply details.

“Thank you again for being here,” Charles murmurs, pulling you close. “Having your support means everything to me.”

You rest your head on his shoulder contentedly. “Always, my love. I’ll be right by your side.” And you mean that with every fiber of your being. No matter what happens going forward, whoever tries to interfere or stand in Charles’ way, they’ll have to go through you first.

You won’t let anyone toy with Charles’ performance and safety again. The lesson has been sent — Charles is untouchable now. Dare to threaten the success that is his, and you’ll come for what’s theirs.

But Charles doesn’t need to carry that burden. He just needs to keep his head held high and drive his heart out. You’ll handle the rest. It’s the least you can do for the man you love more than life itself.

So as Charles holds you close, you silently promise to always shield him from the ugly underbelly that lurks beneath the glitz and glamour of Formula 1.

He gives so much of himself already in pursuit of greatness. Let others vie for power and influence through dirty tricks and mind games. That’s not Charles’ way, which is why you’ll ensure he remains untainted. For him, you’d walk through fire without a second thought.

So really, what’s a little blood on your Louboutins in the grand scheme of things? A man like Charles Leclerc deserves that and so much more. And you’re going to give it to him, no matter the cost.

Let them keep playing their games in the shadows. Little do they know, you’ve already checkmated them all.

[daenysx]

Hey babes first off cinnamon girl sleepover is absolutely iconic I love it! Very much helping me get into the autumn mood.

Can I please request James Potter + 11:25 pm? <3

11.25 PM | JAMES POTTER

"which one looks better?" you ask james as you hold two dresses in your hands. "i think this one is like- for a fancier night. oh, wait there's one more."

you're trying to decide what you want to wear to your friend's birthday party tomorrow night. it's important because it will be the first time james will meet your friends from work. he sits on your bed, watching you and helping you pick something.

you said you should decide what to wear before you sleep, and james agreed immediately. he likes this routine a lot, not just for special occasions but even in your daily life, you ask for his opinion on your outfit for the next day. he likes matching jewelries with your clothes, or telling you how much he likes your shoes.

"i think the dark blue one is really good." he says. "you remember i've got a shirt same color? we can match."

"oh my god, yes!" you say happily. "that would be perfect. i can wear my black heels."

james laughs at your excitement. you put the dress on your chair neatly, you can go to bed now that it has been decided.

he pulls you to his lap the second your leg touches his. he's quick to kiss you, your hand goes to his neck to get him closer. "sleepy?" you ask him, your lips still on his lips.

"a little." he admits, your gorgeous boy. he's been tired at the training today, he'll probably drift off the second his head hits the pillow.

"you know, now that the fall's coming, i think we should go shopping when we have time."

"yeah?" james asks, trying to settle down in bed with you. he's got big arms and a huge chest so it's not hard for him. "what should we get?"

"new lipsticks for me, because i'm running out of my red ones." you tell him. "and a new jacket for you, because yours will probably have holes in its arm if you keep pulling it down your wrist."

"and scarves?"

"yes!" you agree. "and pumpkin shaped candles."

james falls asleep somewhere in this conversation, he's got a smile on his face when his eyes close on their own. making shopping plans before midnight is a good idea. you kiss his cheek before leaving the bed to turn off the lights.

cinnamon girl sleepover ♡

[staincastle]

⠀⠀⠀ midas touch pack!? . . ✶

[hannieehaee]

Hello👋, and an unusual request I think, but could you do a reaction to the members having an S/O who is a supermodel from the 2000s I don't know do whatever you want, like those famous models on Tiktok like Gisele Bündchen, Shalom Harlow and Vlada Rosylakova, I've never seen anyone asking for something like this and I'm curious what it would be like, I'll be very grateful if you answer my request💕

their s/o being a supermodel from the early 2000s

content: established relationship, f!reader, fluff, etc.

wc: 672

a/n: so sorry about how long this took me!! i used to be really into models when i was younger but im still not sure if i did this justice! i hope you like it though<3

masterlist

seungcheol -

super cocky knowing he scored a supermodel gf lol slips it into conversation any time he can, always flexing which show you were walking on next and carrying around magazines you're in the cover of.

jeonghan -

another cocky one. ends any argument with anyone by asking who's dating the supermodel? oh, that's right. it's him! but as cocky as he can get, he'll still be mesmerized by you any time he gets to see you on the catwalk, playing with the bounce of your hair after a show, amazed at all the volume they give you.

joshua -

he's like those nfl wives. will attend any and every show/event you have, dressed to the nines as he admires your beauty. super in tune with you and the business of your life.

jun -

you'd be such an iconic duo as an actor and supermodel couple. he'd invite you to his events and you'd invite him to yours. would sing your praises any time he could, literally stopping mid interview if he saw you walking by just to admire you.

soonyoung -

so giggly and blushy lol. let's say you were walking for a lingerie show ... well he'd literally become a shell of himself as he watched, completely hypnotized by you and already thinking up ways to sneak backstage so he can admire you up close. always gets bashful when you're all dolled up and show him any type of affection after a show.

wonwoo -

he's not one to focus too much on looks, but he can't help but feel this immense sense of pride at looking at his gf and knowing everyone either wants you or wants to be you. adores you past your looks and engages a lot with your lifestyle. keeps updated with your diet, your brands, your exercise routine, your hair care, etc.

jihoon -

even though he's used to your beauty (he still counts his lucky stars every night), he'll be incredibly intimidated any time he attends your events and sees you on the catwalk. literally needs to be slapped out of a trance every time.

seokmin -

your number one supporter. he'd have to be reprimanded the first time he was in the audience for one of your walks, not realizing he wasn't supposed to cheer so loud oops. he'd always be backstage just in time to kiss you good luck and rush back outside to get front row at your walk. literally collects any magazines you're in and prints out your shoots.

mingyu -

he kind of looks like the epitome of supermodel so it'd be a match made in heaven. he'll actually be super interested in all the intricacies that come into your lifestyle, always asking about the process behind your hair, your outfit, how you do your walk, which companies you're in talks with. he's just super interested in it all.

minghao -

he adores how passionate you are about your modeling career and is incredibly supportive of it. makes you meditate with him before any important show, knowing how nerves may get before any important event on a stage. he's absolutely mesmerized by you and the confidence you carry on and off the catwalk.

seungkwan -

attends all your shoots and shows, carrying a (designer) bag full of all your must haves from hairspray, water bottle, lip gloss, resistance bands, you name it! also, he's obsessed with you but that's a given.

vernon -

this man is whipped as fuck. literally forgot how to speak the moment you walked the catwalk at your first lingerie show, practically drooling at the sight. still stutters around you sometimes because you're just so pretty to look at.

chan -

he feels like he won the lottery. no shit the guys give him about anything ever beats the fact that he's the one dating a supermodel. literally groans any time you take him with you to a show and give him a sneak peak of the outfit they got you on. has no idea how to handle you like he's just happy to be there.

[itsmerobinnow]

⠀ׅ⠀⠀𝗃〫𝗎ֵ𝗅𝗂𝖾ֹ⠀⍺〭𝗇࣫𝖽⠀ׅ𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅ֵ〫𝖾ֹ⠀♡〭⠀ֹ⠀

[edwardslvrr]

GIRLDAD MAX 𐙚 max verstappen

౨ৎ max verstappen x single mum!reader

the one where reader had been invited by red bull racing to the silverstone grand prix and max takes an interest towards her.

taglist if you'd like to be added to my taglist, message me privately or comment on this post

warning this is all fake and just for fun, no hate to any of the people mentioned. Just a reminder that this is pure for entertainment хохо

main masterlist 𐙚 max masterlist

━━ 𝓙ULY 9TH, 2023

౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories

viewed by yourbestfriend and 10.378 others

౨ৎ maxverstappen1 silverstone

liked by danielricciardo and 372.792 others

maxverstappen1 thank you silverstone 🇬🇧

view all 1.218 comments

username the living legend fr

username bro’s playing angry birds in the car atp, he’s got all the time in the world

username easy win

username “lando norris leads the british grand prix!”

username bro got my smiling goofy at the tv screen every time

౨ৎ messages daniel/max

౨ৎ yourinstagram silverstone

liked by maxverstappen1 and 5.849 others

yourinstagram went matching with Julie to the Silverstone grand prix, thank you for the invite @/redbullracing 💙

view all 201 comments

username the matching shirts omg so adorable

username what’s max doing in the likes-

username he probs met her in the garage ig

yourbestfriend how adorable, still jealous but hope you had the best time!🤍

yourinstagram we definitely did, think Julie missed her auntie today tho

yourbestfriend stop it, immediately coming to your place rn for some julie hugs

yourinstagram she can’t wait

username wish i could just be casually invited by red bull to go to a gp life is so unfair

━━ 𝓙ULY 10TH, 2023

౨ৎ instagram DM maxverstappen1/yourinstagram

౨ৎ yourinstagram london, united kingdom

liked by maxverstappen1 and 6.108 others

yourinstagram day in @ home with julie 💞

view all 124 comments

username julie is the cutest omg

username what’s max doing here again

username he follows her?

maxverstappen1 new upcoming artist?

yourinstagram julie’s paintings in a museum near you soon!

username um hi?

username i’m interrupting, right?

username i love your sweater omg

username wish max would casually reply to my posts

౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories

viewed by maxverstappen1 and 11.628 others

replies to your story

yourbestfriend missing my julie cuddles

yourinstagram julie said come over

maxverstappen1 how adorable ☺️

yourinstagram i’ll be your tour guide soon ;)

━━ 𝓙ULY 12TH, 2023

౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories

౨ৎ f1fan twitter

౨ৎ messages max/yn

━━ 𝓙ULY 30TH, 2023

౨ৎ maxverstappen1 circuit de spa-francorchamps

liked by yourinstagram and 501.792 others

maxverstappen1 A perfect weekend in Spa 🇧🇪 #belgiangp

view all 1.693 comments

username i just always love a lestappen podium

username we’re just gonna ignore the kiss?

username no bcs the way i screamed

username i’ve never gasped so loud

username what kiss?

username go on twitter

yourinstagram 😍   ⋅  ♡ 𝖻𝗒 𝖺𝗎𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗋

username giggling abt you two

౨ৎ f1fan twitter

౨ৎ yourinstagram circuit de spa-francorchamps

liked by maxverstappen1 and 29.793 others

yourinstagram got himself a win and a girlfriend in spa

view all 5.938 comments

username caption is iconic

username your daughter is adorable

maxverstappen1 the girlfriend part is more important

yourinstagram you big sap

danielricciardo credits to me

maxverstappen1 never

౨ৎ maxverstappen1 posted on their stories

taglist - @louvrepool @italyrryx @buendiabebeta @janeholt3 @privatemythss @lightdragonrayne @namgification @aquangxl @sammyam @americanbluebirdrb @poppyflower-22 @c-losur3 @nxrrislando