#not even google translate that would make it worst i think

[deepseaatrocity]

this is stupid

translation:

welcome fast motorbike passing through

#SOFAST

#JEALOUS_JUSTTELL

[maxillness]

FU In My Head || MV33 x Perez!twin!Reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap, Google translated Spanish, yearning, oral (m)

Wordcount: 1.4k

He knew it was wrong. He knew he had to stop, but god did it feel so good

Imagining her body while her jerks off, was the worst sin he’s done to date

Imagining it was her hands on his cock on his own

Imagining her mouth on his cock as he comes

Imagine getting fucked by her as he laid in his bed, coming down from his orgasm

It didn’t help she showed up at the garage or motorhome, he couldn’t exactly tell her to leave, he couldn’t actually tell her anything, as he would stutter rapidly every time he caught her scent in his nose

“Good job, Max” She said, coming up behind him, touching his waist softly, making him turn his head towards her

“Thank you” Even just the two words he couldn’t get out, stuttering too much

“You seen my brother?” She leaned her head closer to his ear, the talk of engineers and mechanics filling the motorhome

“He’s in his drivers room” Surprisingly he could get his words out in an understandable voice

“Thank you” She let go of his waist, walking towards Checo’s drivers room

“¿Alguna vez vas a hacer un movimiento?” Are you ever going to make a move?. She slid down the wall of the drivers room as Checo spoke to her in that loving brother tone

“No pienso” I don’t think so. She said taking a sip of the water bottle he had given her

“¿Por qué no? Obviamente le gustas” Why not? He obviously likes you. He sat down on the couch opposite to her, leaning back

“Lo sé, pero quiero ver cuánto tiempo le toma a él mismo hacer el movimiento” I know, but I want to see how long it takes for him to make the move himself. She sighed, putting her head against the wall

“Eso nunca va a pasar y lo sabes” That’s never going to happen, and you know it. He said, chuckling, almost laughing

“Si quiere meteres en mis pantalones, tiene que decirlo él mismo” If he wants to get in my pants, he has to say it himself. She said smiling, sliding her legs up to her chest

“Eres algo tuya” You’re something of yours. She didn’t listen to his comment when she heard small whines from the other side of the door

She knitted her eyebrows together as she listen “Please. Fuck, yes” Followed by a small moan

“¿Qué?” What?. He asked, seeing at her confused eyes

“Nada” Nothing. She looked back up at him, picking another subject to talk about than the previous

She tried focusing on the conversation with her brother, but she could still hear into the room behind her

“Please, fuck. Yes, just like that. Y/N…” The moan that came from his lips indicated he came with her name rolling off his tongue

“¿Quieres que te lleve de regreso al hotel?” Do you want me to take you back to the hotel?. He asked standing up from the couch

“No gracias, primero necesito hacer algo” No thank you, I need to do something first. She said, standing up as well, groaning slightly at the pain in her lower back

She waited until Checo had left before she knocked on Max’ door to his drivers room

He opened the door, his face turning all shades of pink as he saw her standing there with a slight smirk on her lips

“Can I come in?” She asked, thickening her accent purposely, watching the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he sank

“S-sure” He said, opening the door wider for her to enter

“Did you have a good wank?” She asked, sitting on the small table in the room, watching the way the blush turned deeper

“Did you hear that?” He asked, almost impossible to hear his words

“All of it, darling” She smiled, crossing her ankles, pushing her chest out, looking at him with eyes filled with filth

“All of it?” His eyes looked into his shoes, hands into his pockets of his jeans

“Get over here, amar” She said, spreading her legs, giving him space to stand in between them

She slowly walked over to her, never once looking up at her. She hooked her finger under his chin, forcing him to look up at her

“If you wanna get in my pants, tell me” His hands was placed on either sides of her thighs, too close for him to think straight

“What?” His words were stuck in his throat, hurting to get out

“Tell me. Tell what you’re thinking about when you’re alone” Her hands was placed on his waist, pulling him closer, lips almost making contact

“I won’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me what you need” She said when he didn’t speak

She leaned in, lips so close of any of them spoke, their lips would graze each other

“Please… I want you so bad. Thinking about you every time I’m alone” He almost let out a whimper when their lips touched

“Good boy” She leaned in, their lips colliding.

He kissed back immediately. Her hands went to his jaw, pulling him into a rougher kiss, his own hands coming to rest on her waist

She forced his lips apart with her tongue, making him gasp slightly. He whimpered at the feeling of her tongue against the walls of his cheeks

Her hands traveled from his jaw, down his torso and landed under his shirt, making him shiver at her cold fingers

They only parted when she pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it at the ground

She went back to kissing him, but this time at his neck, drawing on low moans from him

“I-i can’t keep- Shit… Quiet” He let out a quite louder moan when she started sucking at his skin softly, making him cover his mouth with his hand

“You fucking better” She got off the table, grabbing his wrist, taking his hand away from his mouth “I don’t know how many people are left” She smiled, guiding him back towards the couch

“Sit” She forced him down on the couch, drawing out a huff from him “Buen chico” Good boy. She said, going down on her knees in front of him

He held his breath as she unbuckled his belt, looking up at him through hooded eyes, pure lust in her eyes

He lifted his hips so she could pull down his jeans, his boxers as well, helping him step out of them, throwing them with his shirt

“Tan bonito” So pretty. She said, kissing his inner thighs, making him spread his legs apart, giving her access to scoot in between them

“Please” He pleaded as she grabbed his hips, pulled him closer to the edge, her face just in front his rock hard cock

“Patience, chico” He whined, but it was soon replaced with a moan when she softly licked the tip of his cock “Quiet” She said, voice stern

“Jus’ feels so good” He grabbed the edge of the couch, knuckles turning white from the force as she drove back to lick softly at him

Her nails was digging hardly into his skin, surly making marks for him to see tomorrow, for him to feel tomorrow

He tried keeping his hips still, but he felt the need to buck them once her tongue started swirling around his tip

“Please… Stop teasing” His eyes was shut closed, mouth hanging silently open, head thrown into the back of the couch

She gave in, hollowing her cheeks, taking all of him in, making him hit the back of her throat, gaging around him

He shivered at the vibrations, feeling the pleasure in all of his body. The moan he tried to hold in, came out as a whimper instead

“Please… Feels s’ good” His thighs shook, almost trapping her body between them

She sped up, holding her hair away from her face with one of her hands, the other still roughly around his hip

“Fuck, please… Y/N, please” His words were breathless as he started twitching in her mouth

“‘M close” He managed to keep his sounds at bay, only letting out small whines

Her tongue dragged up his vain as she went up, which pulled him over the edge, whole body shaking as he shot his cum down her throat, barely able to contain his moans

She helped him down from his orgasm before popping off him, swallowing his cum and standing up

“Are you okay, cariño?” She asked, kissing his forehead, the sweat covering her lips

“Mhm. Fine” He opened his eyes, taking her hands and kissing the back of them “Thank you”

“Anytime, bebé” She smiled, helping him getting his clothes back on

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 3 part 3

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7])

lilia: falling through time, desperately trying to help alice

agatha: bitch I'm trying to save myself!!!!! oh she's so awkward when she thinks lilia's going mad. she's a moment away from grabbing a broom and going there, there like in that 30 rock scene

I know they had a relatively low budget for this show and it was such a blessing in disguise. they invested in great sets and instead of cgi they relied on classic cinema tricks that I find so satisfying?? Idk if it's just nostalgia talking. here they simply move the camera away for a moment, lower the lights and move the actor in position, and it makes for an amazing jumpscare.

baby lilia asking 'vuoi vedere?' do you want to see? because it is a choice for lilia. for a long time she chose not to use her gift- she was simply too powerful, she saw too much, and the knowledge of the future scarred her and made her an outcast among others

alice's smile at seeing a vision of her mom T-T

why inconvenient? what was jen doing? she was an obstetrician and midwife. she was helping women out with herbs and pagan knowledge passed down from mother to daughter. Back in the day midwives were struggling to get their skills recognized in an increasingly male dominated field, they were advocating alternative treatments for women constantly humiliated by condescending modern doctors - from forced bed rest to insane asylums to lobotomy in worst case scenarios. think Charlotte Perkins Gilman's short story, The Yellow Wallpaper. think about everything that happened to Virginia Woolf.

we know that alice was a teenager when lorna died in a fire. she wasn't well, alice says, and we see now that she had a drinking problem. it's equally possible that the demon got to her or that she set herself on fire out of desperation. and if lorna could feel her own mother dying, alice could too.

daang great zombie makeup on the teacher lady

lilia when her incredible abilities made her able to see Death: burdened by knowledge way beyond the scope of humanity she goes into exile

agatha when her incredible abilities made her able to see Death: you know what I'm gonna tap that

I saw people saying that because the Road wasn't real nothing that happened in the show mattered, that they all died for nothing. I disagree completely, and not only because Billy's chaos magic is so astonishingly powerful that he can create a functional Road out of thin air. like, it wasn't a trick, he made it real. But more importantly, what happened to these women, their experiences, their growth on the Road is real. Even if Billy didn't do it on purpose, even if it's fucked up that a teenager can essentially go, you know what would be cool? if they all experienced their deepest trauma! but that's the point, that's the point, that's the whole damn point of the show. life is chaos and nonsense and heartbreak, it's up to you to find a meaning where there isn't any. look at lilia! the lesson is not that you're going to die, but what you choose to do with the cards that you're dealt, with the time that you're given.

while Patti clearly has an american accent, she is speaking correct sicilian, tutti morti su' - they could have had her talk in italian and hardly anyone would have noticed, but they went above and beyond with the details. the latin in the show is also rather impressive, like they actually hired experts rather than relying on google translate

agatha has gotten too used to run leaving a pile of bodies behind. not so easy to consider them just food when you have to live alongside them and witness their feelings, is it?? first wanda and now this!

@perpetualanon pointed out yesterday that agatha also had selfish reasons for wanting to save billy, i.e. she didn't want to risk him being poisoned because who knows what horrors a hallucinating billy could create. Yes! exactly that! it's always worth saying that when agatha has these fleeting moments of compassion and altruism it's in the context of a whole lotta selfishness. i think of her as that drawing of Stitch's badness level, her whole body is almost filled to the brim with awfulness and there's only a thin layer of goodness that she's constantly trying to smother. her actions on the Road are almost entirely selfish, but for the first time in centuries she's surrounded by people, like Lilia here and Jen and Alice and especially Billy, who are accidentally nurturing her almost atrophied good side. and lemme tell you she's pissed about it!

of course these two don't know what a sous vide is, one is dirt poor and the other eats people.

I'm gonna take a stand for zoomers here, he might have never learned what counterclockwise means, but millennials like me would also have hesitated and tried to picture it in our minds. because a lot of us lack spacial intelligence and are generally rather dumb

the shock and terror on her face when she hears nicky crying

another great special effect achieved only with lights and the cast shuffling out of frame

they show the darkhold because they need to mislead viewers and can't give nicky's story away just yet, but doesn't it make sense that agatha would see it? all these centuries blaming rio, and deep down agatha is haunted not by Death, but by her own actions and choices. the way she kept Nicky isolated and unsafe. the way she insulted his memory by going on killing sprees instead of letting herself mourn. the way she used the darkhold to corrupt her soul more and more, because she was never brave enough to confront her guilt.

kathryn hahn really said, do you want Emotional Devastation???? do you wanna see a woman SUFFER? do you want your heart put through a blender??? I can do that in TWO seconds

agatha wants to NOT DIE so badly that she has to drop the clown act and give jen a proper pep talk. because she knows what makes people tick and she can uplift just as well as she can destroy, she can help jen because she knows her so well. there's always that potential there, all of agatha's talent and her intelligence and experience could shape her into a great mother and sister in a coven. a potential that evanora refused to see and that will likely never be fulfilled.

and the irony, the irony of never wanting to hurt jen, to deliberately avoid going after her - because she's a midwife. because nicky was stillborn, because she had to give birth alone in the woods. agatha believes with all her heart that jen's work is fundamentally good and important. and yet she was the one who bound and tortured and violated her. she was so fucking focused on herself that she didn't even realize she was tramping and destroying everything in her path like a mad steamroller. she allied with the enemy, she went against her community's best interests. there's a lot to think about there, I really want to explore it more

patti during that hot ones episode

NOW YOU GUYS REMEMBER HER. and of course it's alice who does

your internalized stereotypes are really testing lilia's patience, billy (and while they consider the oven sharon is writhing and dying on the table)

how it started: jen pushing lilia out of the way

how it ended: "you are my sister in the craft" 🥲

I love you patti lupone

alice is strong! alice is noble! alice is pure of heart!

gee i wonder why

they had to add a goonies poster in billy's room because of this scene, but i guess disney didn't want to buy the copyright so the poster says "the goofballs"

agatha shoving everyone and then kicking jen twice for good measure

my guilty pleasure is watching reactors on youtube (don't judge) and everyone, everyone had my same reaction to sharon's death: she is not really dead. it was too unceremonious, too sudden. you cannot have debra jo rupp unconscious for half an episode and then get rid of her like that, she's too talented, too funny, how can they keep the humor up without her? if sharon is gone they don't want to watch anymore! no, they're gonna bring her back for sure, they're witches, they're going to find a way.

And then Alice dies, and it's unfair, it's too sad, she just had her big victory! that doesn't sit right with you, that the writers would do her so dirty. And then Lilia dies.

Wanda said it from the very beginning: we cannot reverse death, no matter how sad it makes us. Some things are forever. Sharon's death was horrible and uncomfortable and senseless on purpose, because these shows are about the exploration of grief. How can you make peace with the impossible? How can you reconcile yourself with a nice fun lady dying after losing her last shred of agency, scared and alone and forgotten? Didn't she deserve so much more than being just a casualty of witchfolk drama? And how can you reconcile yourself with someone as good and as wonderful as Alice dying in such a cruel way? What about the death of a parent? of a spouse? of a child? What about your own death, as inevitable and inescapable as your birth?

I'm posting this one early cos I didn't sleep last night and I wanna take a nap now 🥲 when I'm tired i ramble, I knew that already. sorry-y!

we get to episode four tomorrow, and y'all know what, or rather WHO, that means!

go to episode 4 part 1

[lotusarchon]

been rereading svsss soooo combining my current hyperfixations here

everytime there's a reader isekai au it's always them loving the universe they've transmigrated into but what about a reader who's a borderline HATER (me) of black myth wukong or lego monkie kid

(tdlr: this does not represent how i feel about either video game and show, because i like them both, the fandoms are just...eh...but i do think it'll be funny lmfao)

i'm talking a full time hater. they've read jttw and fssy and of COURSE they love those books, they're a huge myth nerd.

then they take one fucking look at the adaptions inspired by them and immediately go "oh fuck no"

a reader who DESPISES lmk's portrayal of sun wukong because what the fuck do you mean he's not a buddhist after his journey? what do you mean he didn't kick the jade emperor's ass and fucking isn't badass and cool? what the fuck do you mean the six eared macaque is his 'best friend' and people SHIP them?? what do you mean no one likes tripitaka and apparently the three other pilgrims were reincarnated when that isn't factually correct??

a reader who positively despises the plot line in lmk because WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN NEZHA'S DEMOTED TO SOME CANON FODDER WHEN HE SHOULD BE BADASS?? or...or AZURE LION BEATING THE JADE EMPEROR?? WHO THE FUCK EVEN IS THE BROTHERHOOD EWWW!? what do you mean this dragon girl has the samadhi fire ew ew ewww what is this plot...

reader who fights with fans because of their (barf) mindset and also shut?? up?? about nezha being a 12 year old?? gross ass??

reader who watches the show religiously but only to find every flaw in it and when people argue about the show being a children's only audience they fight back with "idgaf if it's for kids they should teach it properly dumb fucking cunts gtfo my dms before i doxx you"

same thing with black myth wukong tbh. reader who hates black myth wukong because...no...no, sun wukong most certainly wouldn't do that. graphics are fine whatever but but this is?? inaccurate??

reader who's tearing into fanboys too because shut the fuck up about this character pingping bring sexy and also why the fuck does she exist?? why is red son not actually pif's son?? why is there some fucking random monkey tryna collect those whatchamacallit (relics) NO THIS IS WRONG

reader who's gagging cause...sun wukong wasn't in love with nobody and why is there a brief fucking romance plotline with the monkey 2.0 wasn't this a fighting game ewew get it AWAAAAY

reader who hates and then...uh oh. too much dumplings is making them choke....guys...guys i think they're dying??

reader who wakes up in bmw or lmk as some... rabbit spirit? (so weird) but absolutely SEETHING at being here because oh fuck this bitch ass god awful plot suck my cock we are NOT DOING THIS

reader deciding that avoiding the obnoxious characters would definitely be better for their sanity....only for some blasted loud ass obnoxious stupid cunt fucking google translated voice pings in their head... telling them if they don't participate in the plot they'll be executed

reader thinking they'd rather die but then the system goes "oh, you thought we were joking?" and gives them the worst experience ever that by the end of it they have to swallow their pride and participate in the plot....☹️ Unfortunately

reader who accidentally wifes up the characters and has to deal with everyone forgetting their roles...and the system threatening them about the plot too like bro how is this my fault these bitches are dumb? fuck you mean you're gonna kill me ag- no, no, you're right uh i'll fix it i'll fix it.

Anyways I'm gonna write a fanfic with an OC like this cause it's too funny to pass up and also I'm 100% gonna die with my wipes hahahaha fuck..

[maryleclerc]

𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 — charles leclerc

pairing: prince!charles leclerc x reader ; prince!charles leclerc x princess!reader ; prince!dad!charles leclerc x princess!mom!reader

summary: in which the royal family and prince charles leclerc finally spoke out about the rumors of an affair between him and the actress.

warning: english is not my native language, use google translation

au: yea yea i know some people don’t like the cheating plot, but i think it’s just so bored if everything just go so smooth :(((

read my royal series here

y/n_leclerc

Liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc and others

y/n_leclerc I’m posting this just to let you know that our marriage life is still as great as it is before every false rumor, a false rumor always a false rumor so I’m not worried or even care about it, and beside that we’re planning on having our 2nd child together!! 🫶🏻 You might ask who idea it is right? It’s my husband Charles and our son Christian Arthur just ask me if I can give him little sister or little brother, and my husband also said he want a mini Y/n running around the house.

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charles_leclerc ❤️ Tellement chanceux de t'avoir

⤷ y/n_leclerc Christian and I are so lucky to have you by our side

arthur_leclerc Can’t wait to meet a new addition of Y/n Leclerc

⤷ y/n_leclerc Wait what 😂 I’m not even pregnant yet how do you know its going to be a baby girl

ilovecharlesleclerc_ Hii, may i ask what is Prince Christian Arthur hobby?

⤷ y/n_leclerc Oh, he love go-karting, him and Charles use to go-karting every weekend. They LOVE F1

favgirly/n The way she’s so calm makes me love her even more

charles_leclerc

Liked by y/n_leclerc and others

charles_leclerc I, Prince Charles Leclerc of Monte Carlo would like to declear the rumor one more time, that there are no romantic relationship betwen us, the only love that I shared is for Y/n and Christian. And that’s it

Also I wanted to said this to @y/n_leclerc

I must say how happy I am to have a wife who is always willing to help me solve problems in a very calm way, whenever I have difficult problems to solve, Y/n always being the one to help me find different solutions made me respect her even more. More than that, I always feel lucky to have her as my wife and mother of my children.

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viennajaula_ We need a sorry from you @kristiannabailee_official 🙂 you better post it or i’m gonna have to “hunt” you down myself

redferarri Why the worst things always happen to our Charles, he’s the nicest guy and Y/n too they’re just jealous of them!! 😩

genni See i told you, he never ever do that horrible things

blueivyy Not gonna, i hate that girl so much she can’t even say hi to her fan

⤷ loveliee She’s super mean, mean to every single fan

lanadelreysmywife Y/n, the most beloved Princess of Monte Carlo 😩😩😩😩😩

kristianabailee_official

12,682 likes

kristianabailee_official Hi, I'm Kristiana Bailee and you probably know me from my role or with the most recent rumor that I'm in a relationship with Prince Charles Leclerc but in reality it's just me. Yes, I have feelings for Prince Charles Leclerc and I want to write this post to apologize to the fans who have suffered the hurt, the disappointment caused by me and more especially, I want to apologize to Prince Charles Leclerc and Princess Y/n of Monte Carlo for causing these unnecessary misunderstandings.

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krisanddede That’s okay, atleast you know what you doing is wrong. We forgive you

theleclercfaam Should i believe her or not :))

y/nismyqueen The manager better keep her away from the whole royal family. They won’t know what she would do next

sophiagreen I hope Prince Christian Arthur won’t see all of this shit when he become adult, she clearly wants to ruin the reputation of Prince Charles Leclerc and the royal family!

jessica_ 🙂🙂

[monzabee]

like real people do – cl16 (+18)

masterlist

Summary: The one where you are having sex with your boyfriend, Charles, for the first time but he wants everything to be perfect for you. 

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: smut (i can’t believe this day has arrived), absolute filth towards the end i'm so sorry mom, charles being a romantic dork, insecurities, obsessively planning something for it to only go wrong, cursing, fluff towards the end, google translate French, minors dni!!

Request: “Hi!!! Maybe you could do a first time with Charles Leclerc? Where he is upset because he wants everything to be perfect. And he whispers to her how much he loves her and her body. And maybe a sweet aftercare at the end?Just a suggestion <3 Have a nice day!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you so much for the feedback and love you’ve left on my last fic! this one was fun to write but please beware that this is my first-time writing smut in my life. thank you anon for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Dating Charles is easy, you think. Not in a bad way, no. But in a way that makes it very easy for you to lost yourself in him and your love for him, which doesn’t make you feel scared whether you guys are moving too fast or too slow. Charles always tells you that you should live your life on your own pace, without any comparison to other people’s –  although he doesn’t seem to practice what he preaches, both figuratively  and literally on the track. 

You love the story of how you two met, and you know he does, too. He brings it up often when the two of you are on a date, sharing the last course of the night, dessert, even though the two of you are probably full and can’t possibly eat anymore. The two of you met almost a year ago, in France actually, after the disaster of a race. Charles was forced by his friends, mainly Pierre, to go out for the night to hopefully have some drinks and let off some steam. You, on the other hand, were on possibly the worst date you could ever remember being on in your entire life. Therefore, being the only two people who are having the worst time in the small bar, you two met on the back patio where you thought you’d be able to get some alone time. Although the two of you don’t hit it off immediately, the only thing you could think about by the end of the night is when you might see the Monegasque with the dimples again. You guys don’t start dating immediately either, no, because Charles insists that it is important for you two to get to know each other as friends first. You agree, mostly because he is right, and also because you are impressed by the fact that he is showing emotional maturity in a way you did not experience in your past relationships before. But it is easy with Charles, even if he has an inhumane work schedule most of the year and your guys’ schedules don’t match up most of the time, you make time for each other. He knows how much your career means to you and you know the same goes for him so the two of you are very careful not to cross any lines. That doesn’t mean that Charles doesn’t spend all of his free time with you, of course.  

Another interesting thing about your relationship is the fact that you two haven’t had sex yet, although you’ve been together for a while. Some people are genuinely shocked to find this little fact out, for example when you told Lily she almost dropped the coffee mug she was carrying, or sometimes Charles’ friends like to make fun of the situation, mostly Pierre (in reality, only Pierre), though it’s all in good fun. You don’t feel weird about the fact that you two haven’t slept together yet, but you ask him whether there’s a certain reason why and Charles’ answer turns you into a sobbing mess in his arms. He explains that while he would love to fuck your brains out – in the most respectful way possible – but he want is to be perfect for your first time. In his mind, he is trying to show you how serious he is about your relationship by slowing down the pace and taking his time, and when he’s finally able to put it in words, they make you tear up in the best way possible. That’s not to say that the two of you didn’t partake in other forms of sexual intimacy per se. For example, there’s that one time where he came into his driver’s room after a particularly adrenaline filled race and dropped to his knees for you – you can still recall the devilish smile on his face and the fact that he never took his eyes off of you, not once. There was the time after the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony, of course, where the two of you managed to sneak out of the ceremony into one of the bathroom stalls and this time you were the one on your knees for him. In conclusion, neither of you feel you’re missing out on anything just because you haven’t had sex yet. 

It’s a couple of months after the last time you brought up the topic of having sex when the two of you stumble onto the topic again. It’s by an accident, really – and not much of a discussion, only a couple of words exchanged between the two of you. The two of you are watching a new movie which finally made its way onto Netflix, and you’re very happy with your place on the couch – squeezed between the cushions with the side of Charles’ body, which is very warm and making you a little sleepy to be honest. However, your sleepy mood is quickly wiped away when you realise the soft moans coming from the TV. You let your eyes take in the scene before you, the actors on the screen not slowing down for a second when you realise Charles’ breathing has gone deeper. He involuntarily tightens his arm around your shoulders, pressing you more into his sides. 

“Charles,” you mumble, bringing your gaze up to him and swallowing a deep breath once his green eyes meet yours. 

“Yes, chérie?” Although the focus on his eyes are on you, you can tell that he is also very much aware of the developing scene on the TV. His eyes widen when he realises what your silent request is and he exhales sharply. “Chérie…” 

You hide your face in his neck at the gentle rejection he offers, leaving soft kisses across the skin left open from the neckline of his hoodie. “Please, mon coeur.” You think your choice of words does it for a second. It usually does it, when you speak French because you don’t do it very often, but one look in his eyes tells you tonight won’t be the night. “But why?” you whine, almost childishly, burying your face deeper in his neck. 

“Because you need perfection, mon amour.” He replies, but there is a strain in his voice due to the tightness in his sweatpants. 

“I don’t need perfection.” You grumble, your sexual tension feeling overwhelming for the moment. 

“Maybe not,” Charles replies, taking a deep breath. “But you deserve it.” 

You inhale deeply at his words too, occupying your hands with the strings of his hoodie. “Soon?” you ask in a hopeful voice. 

He leaves a soft kiss on your hairline with an affirmative hum. “Soon,” he promises. 

It’s a couple of weeks later that incident when you find yourself back in his apartment in Monaco. Due to the flexibility your work provides now that you’re taking on more freelance roles. Charles was worried you took the step because of his own schedule, but you quickly assured him that you were feeling burnt-out because of the 9-to-5 hustle. So when you step in his apartment that evening, you take in the sight with a small smile on your face. 

“Honey, I’m home!” You announce your arrival, presenting the flowers in your hand with a proud expression as you enter the kitchen.

“Chérie!” He welcomes you, walking towards you from behind the counter and engulfing you in one of his bear hugs – which are your favourite, of course. “Welcome home, I’ve missed you.” 

“Well, then maybe you shouldn’t sent me out to get my nails, you silly goose.” You giggle, getting out of his arms and leaving a kiss on his cheek to go find a vase for the bouquet in your hands. 

“I needed time, and you know why.” He crosses his arms in his chest and a small smirk finds a place on his face as he raises his eyebrows. “You bought me flowers?” 

“Well, yes,” You shrug, “everyone deserves flowers, no?” 

“Hm,” he lets out a small hum, and gets behind you while you’re filling up a vase with water. He places his chin on your shoulder as he speaks in a low voice. “I got you flowers as well; you know.” 

“Oh, I know, I saw them on the dining room table.” You smile as you look at the flowers placing them on an empty place on the counter and turning your head back to look at Charles. “I love them, thank you, darling.” 

He kisses your lips softly, “I’m glad you like them.” He perks up when the oven timer indicates that the dinner is ready. So he takes your hand and walks you towards the door, “You go wait in the dining room, I’ll be right over.” 

He comes into the dining room a little while later carrying a pizza presented on a large plate with what you think to be artistically placed basil leaves. You smile widely at him while he puts the plate on the table and serves the two of you. “You cooked me pizza?” You ask, pressing your lips together to prevent you from smiling like a maniac. 

“I know it’s your favourite.” He smiles wildly right back at you, motioning your plate. “You first, I wanna see your reaction.” 

“Okay!” You answer him, picking up the slice and taking a bite out of it. As you start to chew the piece, you widen your eyes and let out a hum to disguise your reaction. Although it takes you a minute or two to swallow the piece in your mouth, his excited eyes never leave yours for a moment. “It’s great! Which recipe did you use, honey?” 

“I’m glad you asked,” he answers you, picking up his own piece, “it’s a recipe I found online.” He bites a mouthful out of the pizza and as he begins to chew, his eyes widen and suddenly he is spitting the food into a napkin as politely as he can. “Jesus, what’s wrong with this thing?” His eyes move towards your face and widens even more. “Chérie, you can’t possibly like this.” 

“What, no!” You say, dragging out the last letter. “It’s great, Charles, really.” You start to take another bite, but he stops you with an incredulous look on his face. 

“Chérie, non! You’re going to give yourself food poisoning!” He shakes his head, and takes out his phone to check the recipe after you ask him once again which recipe he used. “It’s the one from ‘Food Network’. It’s supposed be edible, no?”

“Oh, Charles.” You sigh, softly, looking over the American measurements instead of the European ones. 

His confused eyes find yours. “What?” he asks with a genuine concern. 

“They are in the American form, not the European ones.” You answer, a hand stroking his forearm in attempts to bring him sympathy. 

“Oh my god, I– I’m sorry, chérie.” He sighs, leaning his head back towards the back of the chair and letting out a frustrated groan. “I am stupid.” 

“You are not stupid, Charles.” You assure him, you hand is still on his arm to hopefully convince him that he is not, in fact, stupid. “It’s a common mistake.” 

“But non, it was supposed to be edible!” He points to the dough on your plate frustratedly and adds, “I even got you the wine you liked so we could share it.” 

“You got me wine to share?” You ask him softly. “But you don’t even like wine.” 

His answer is simple. “But you do.” He takes a moment to reflect and then brings his hands up to cover his face. “Oh my god, I forgot to take the wine out of the freezer.” 

“Charles, please,” You try to move his hands from his face, but he stubbornly keeps them there, letting out a groan in the process. “Okay, nope, enough.” You announce, getting up from your chair and try to forcefully pull him out of his chair. 

“No, mon amour, stop.” He argues, but you keep pulling him towards the bedroom with still chanting the words; no and nope.

When you finally get to the bedroom and open the door, you’re quite surprised to find another surprise there. You let your eyes wander through the rose petals and candles in the room – though, yes, it is a bit cheesy, you know the reason he went to this far is only to make you feel special and appreciated. “Charles,” you say his name with softness, and emotion, and (maybe) with tears but your hand in his tightens the moment you lay your eyes on him. “I love you, God, I love you.” 

“I love–” He can’t finish the rest of his sentence because suddenly you pull his face against yours, and press your lips onto his. His hands are quick to find your waist, and pull you against him. His movements are slow as he leads you towards the bed, but he lets you have control over the kiss and tries to match your rhythm as you deepen the kiss. As you get closer to the bed, one of his hands find your ass and when he squeezes the flesh under his hands, he is also quick to swallow your moans in his kiss. 

You let out a protesting hum when he tries to put you on top of the bed, so he slowly pulls away from the kiss and raises his eyebrows questioningly. “No.” You murmur, quickly switching your positions and gently pushing him to sit on the bed. “My turn.” You quickly place yourself to sit on his lap with a playful smile on your face. You let your hands wander across his shirt-clad chest, quickly starting to unbutton it while keeping your eyes on his. He assists you when you try to pull his shirt off of him and sigh dreamily at the sight, and softly pushing him on his shoulder to lie down on the bed. You proceed to drop your head and press kisses to anywhere and everywhere on his skin. You start with his lips, which he tries to deepen but quickly gives up because he understands what you’re trying to do, then his jaw and neck, his chest and eventually through the happy trail which leads your mouth to the destination you were hoping to achieve. Your start to unbutton his pants and try to undo his belt buckle, but he stops your shaky hands to bring you back up despite your protests. 

“No, chérie, not tonight.” Although his tone is firm, you try to get back to your previous position in hopes that we will let you. However, he tightens his hands on your hips to keep you in place as he pulls you close and whispers, “I said no, mauvaise fille.” bad girl. A smirk threatens to etch itself on his face when he hears your soft whine at his attempt to chastise you. He brings one of his hands to rest on the juncture of where your jaw meets your neck and allows his thumb to caress your bottom lip. “You’re going to let me worship you, n'est-ce pas? wont you? Before I fuck you, I mean.” 

Your breath nearly gets stuck in your throat, but you manage to let out a soft, “Charles.” 

“Tell me, mon amour, or I won’t touch you tonight at all.” There is a mischievous look on his face which is laced with months of built-up sexual tension – rather a dangerous combination, you reckon.

“Y-yes.” You breath out. “I will let you.” 

“You will let me do what, my love? Say it in French.” He moves his hand to cover your neck and applies the smallest bit of pressure he knows you like, enough to keep you on your toes but not enough to cut the air completely or leave any bruises. “You know I love it when you speak in French.”

“Je– Charles.” You quickly give up as you try to string the correct words together but his persistent gaze has you trying again and again to find the right ones. “Je te laisserai me toucher.” I will let you touch me. 

The smirk on his face turns wicked as he clicks his tongue. “Ne touche pas, dis-moi le mot juste, chérie.” Not touch, tell me the correct word, darling. “I won’t touch you tonight if you don’t tell me,” he reminds you. 

You let out a whine as you try to move your hips to gain some friction for relief, but his hand, which is still on your hip, stops you from doing so. Moving your hands to slowly hold his wrist, which belongs to the hand currently wrapped around your neck, you look him straight in the eyes with a panic. “Adorer! Je te laisserai m'adorer!” Worship, I will let you worship me!

“Bonne fille,” Good girl, he mumbles getting you out of your dress in no time. But he takes time with your underwear, allowing his fingers to explore as he teases you – no doubt. He slowly lays your body on top of the bed, and moves his body to sit between your parted legs. “Beautiful,” he whispers as he lets his eyes wander through the curves of your body, your chest, and eventually the wet spot between your legs. “Are you wet for me, my love?”

You nod timidly, partly due to the fact that you’re completely naked while he only has his shift off. It’s not that you two haven’t been naked together before, but it feels much more different this time compared to before. “Charles, please.” Your whine is much high in pitch this time, feeling needier as the minutes go by. “Please, do something.” 

“I will, mon chérie, don’t worry.” He moves down on the bed and lowers himself on his knees and pulls your legs over his shoulders. “Just don’t forget to tell me if it gets to much, okay?” 

“Okay– my God, Charles!” You throw your head back as Charles begins his mission – which must be, when looking back, eating you out like a mad man because the second he places his tongue on your slit, he begins to devour you as if he’s been starving for years. As he licks and nips and sucks at you skin, you have no control over the reactions your body supplies him with, which is mostly chanting his name over and over again. And you are pretty sure that he becomes more motivated to make cum every time your voice gets higher both in voice and pitch. You don’t know how long it has been and how many orgasms he’s given you just with his mouth and fingers. Three? Four? Five? You’re not sure – but the one thing you know is that when you’re just about to come again, you weave your hands through his hair and pull hard. In retrospect, it seemed like a good idea, but you come to regret that decision when Charles takes your clit between his lips and sucks just as hard, guiding through a mind-blowing orgasm which leaves you shaking and arching your back against the Monegasque. Just as you thought that would be it, he begins to restart his fingers’ movements, which has you pushing his head off of your pussy in an attempt to stop him. “Charles, I can’t anymore!” 

That seems to do it, because with a feverish look on his face, Charles lifts his head up and holds on to your thighs which are still on the either side of his head. “What’s wrong, mon amour?”

“I can’t – I’m sorry,” you babble through the involuntary tears, mostly due to the force of your orgasm – which does leave him worried but he lets you finish your thoughts before he takes any action. “Please just fuck me.” 

“Shh,” he soothes you, leaving small kisses to your upper thighs and moves himself to hover over your body. “You did so well, bonne fille.” He strokes your hair as he whispers sweet nothings to your ear, helping you to calm down and regulate your breathing before the two of you continue. “Breath, bonne fille, ma bonne fille.”

You listen to him as he gives you instructions, breathing deeper breaths and trying to keep your focus on his eyes while you do so. Your hands grip his biceps tightly when he makes a move to get up, the look in your eyes becoming panicky once again. “Where are you going?” 

His hand continue its movements in your hair as he smiles at you softly. “I’m going to grab a condom, and be right back, okay?” 

“Don’t.” You croak, your throat becoming dry as you keep talking and start blushing akin to a lobster. “I’m on birth control.” 

“Chérie,” Charles starts, “Y/N, we can’t–”

“Please, I just wanna feel you.” The softness of your voice tugs at his heartstrings as you add, “Only if you want to.” 

“Of course, I want to, you silly girl.” Charles assures you quickly and gets out of his trousers and boxers, and positions himself between your legs with the head of his cock pressed to your opening. He moves his eyes from you pussy to your face, locking his gaze with yours as he speaks again, “I’m going to go slow, okay?” He waits for your reaction before starting to move his hips, his cock moving inside you in a slow pace. As he continues the movement of his hips your lips part and a moan resembling his name come out. He stops at a certain point and gives you a moment to adjust, then moves his hips backwards enough that he gets out of you, but he is quick to slip back in and continue his movements up to the point he let you get adjusted to. 

You let out a whine, which prompts him to raise his eyebrows in question, which you reply with a nod of your own. You wrap your legs around his hips, the skin-to-skin contact feeling nice, and push him deeper inside you which results in you actually screaming his name. If you thought feeling him before that moment was pleasurable, felling all of him inside you all at once feels as if you’ve achieved some sort of nirvana. “Deeper, please, plus profonde.”

“I’ve got you, darling.” He manages to get out, moving his hips faster and deeper at the same time and hitting the spot which causes your eyes to roll back to your head every time. “You have no idea how beautiful you look like this, right now. Mon chef-d'œuvre, tout à moi.” My masterpiece, all mine.

With your entire body shaking with the movement of Charles’ hips, you still manage to nod your head. “All yours, Charles.” Your hands squeezing his biceps for support, “I love you, je t'aime tellement.” I love you so much. 

“God, I love you so much.” He lets out a groan, and drops his head to your neck to press kisses and suck your skin between his lips in an urgent need to leave his mark on your body. “Je promets que je t'aimerai pour toujours.” I promise I'll love you forever.

Your hands move to weave through his messy hair, pulling him closer in an attempt to keep him closer to your body – which proves a challenge because the two of you are already wrapped around each other. “I’m close, mon coeur.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” He breathes on your neck, his warm breath making you shiver under the weight of his body. He puts his weight on one of his arms and moves the other one towards your body, this fingers quick to find your clit as he begins to circle it. “Come for me so I can fill you up, hm? You want that, don’t you?” 

You nod your head and let him take you there for the last time that night, your orgasm coming in stronger than the previous ones due to the overstimulation Charles thankfully provided. “I do, I do, I really, really do.” Your legs tighten around his hips and your hands slip down his back as you claw at the skin there while your hips lift off the bed, causing you to arch your body to mold his. 

He only lets himself come when he’s guided you through yours, his fingers slowing down without stopping when he’s emptying himself into you. The moan he gets out, muffled because his head is still buried in your neck, quickly becomes one of your favourite sounds in the world. He holds you close as he slips out of you, the small wince on your face not going unnoticed by him, and he pulls you towards him when he drops next to you on the bed. Charles listens to your breathing for a while, only to find you looking at him with sleep evident in your eyes and a pleased smile on your lips. “Comme c'est joli.” How pretty. He says, “And all mine.” 

“All yours,” you sigh, but your voice coming off sleepy. “I’ve always been all yours.” 

His fingers draw random shapes on the bare skin on your back as he raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Hm, tu sais que c'est vrai.” You know it’s true. You mumble, snuggling closer to the driver wrapped around you. “I love you, mon amour.”

“I love you too, chérie.” He kisses the side of your head. “The next time we do this, I’m making you edible pizza, though.” 

“I don’t need pizza.” You laugh softly, “only you.” 

“Still,” Charles shrugs, “now go to sleep so I can take you out to breakfast tomorrow.” 

[ladcedes]

melodrama

charles leclerc x musical theatre actress!reader, social media!au

summary a melodrama is defined as a dramatic piece with exaggerated characters and plot-lines that play to the audience’s emotions. when charles leclerc dates a queen of drama, there is bound to be some that seeps into his life.

notes yes, the title was from the lorde album. warning, google translated french

the anniversary posts

yourusername

Liked by lilymhe and 582.382 others

yourusername mon amour ❤️ i never could’ve imagined that i would spend 5 years with you… and i never imagined that i could find someone so amazing, who could make me feel like the most spectacular person in the world, the most special girl, yet also remind me of how human i am and how i’m allowed to be only human. you always manage to whisk me away from the pressures of life, push everything away, and make it feel like it’s just us in this world. you, my darling, are the comfort and calm of my soul. with you forever by my side, i can face anything

view 366 replies

12 March 2023

arthur_leclerc i can't believe it's been 5 years since you two started being publicly insufferable

⤷ charles_leclerc nous t'aimons aussi, arthur 🙄🙄🙄 (we love you, too, arthur)

carmenmmundt congrats on 5 years and cheers to many more!!

⤷ yourusername thank you love! ❤️

f1wagsite the caption is too sweet im jealous

⤷ ynfans2023 literally their relationship makes me wanna go in the bathtub with my hairdryer

charles_leclerc

Liked by alex_albon and 906.438 others

charles_leclerc always the light on my darkest days, my sunshine when it rains, melting away all my worries and doubts, always bringing me up from the lowest of low points. you are my courage and strength. you shine so brightly that you light up everything around you, including myself. you bring out the best in me and love even the worst. you give warmth to the deepest corners of my soul. with you, i’m the best and most natural version of myself. these 5 years together have been the best years of my life, i wish i had met you sooner. even eternity isn’t enough to be with you, mon étoile ❤️

view 523 replies

12 March 2023

lewishamilton congratulations guys ❤️

pierregasly congrats on 5! so where's the ring mate? 😂😂

⤷ alexalbon seconding this 😂😂

⤷ hamilfans pierre?? ALEX?? do they know something we don't or are they playing??

valenciacia the caption??? ME WHENNN 😭😭😭😭😭

⤷ f1girliee RIGHTT like "even eternity isn't enough to be with you"???? i'm going crazy.

⤷ leclercwdc i'm about to go take a bath with my toaster rn

charles_leclerc posted • 8/2/2023 | yourusername posted • 2/3/2023

charles_leclerc

Liked by pierregasly and 867.338 others

charles_leclerc my favourite actress ❤️ unbelievably proud of you, mon cherie @yourusername.

to be blessed with the love of such a hard-working, talented actress is an honour. you performed amazingly tonight and every other night before.

11 February 2023

view 406 comments

yourusername charlie you are such a sap (i love you so much)

⤷ charles_leclerc only for you darling (i love you more)

itsnessa they make me believe in love

⤷ loveleclerc real i don't know what i would do if they broke up

⤷ wdcleclerc i think i would lose hope in love

44britcedes my fav couple 🫶🫶🫶

yourusername

Liked by charles_leclerc and 724.198 others

yourusername all's well that ends well

3 May 2023

view 698 comments

myagramm is the ring on yn's finger a new addition orrrr

⤷ pierregasly i guess we found where the ring is

⤷ leclercism beating the breakup allegations with marriage allegations. only them.

⤷ myagramm PIERRE?? HELLO???

httpsainz is that ring what i think it is

solarpiastri im actually crying they rlly said fuck the break up rumours and decided to start up engagement rumours instead

a/n: might make a part 2 if i feel like it in like 5 months

[paddymoonstruck]

DEAR READER | C.L16 (THREE)

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x Ferrari Intern!OC

Warnings: Google translated french, Complex relationship, resisting the urge to jump each other’s bones (jk 1/2)

Parts: one | two | three | four

Note: let me know if you want to be included in the tag list!

NATALIA VALLE WAS NOT a nobody. Or at least, that was what her father used to tell her. All her life, she endured loneliness from her inability to make and keep relationships. Perhaps it was a trait passed down through her family. She wasn’t quite sure. It took her a while to accept her predicament and as she was just beginning to embrace the path to nunnery, Susie Wolff appeared out of thin air.

The rest? Well, here it was. At North Holland, Netherlands. Circuit Zandvoort, to be more specific.

Natalia strode through the area, eyes subtly darting through the space. She tried her best to even out her breathing. Deep down she knew this wouldn’t be any different from the previous days.

Opening up her senses, she was greeted by the slowly increasing noises of screaming fans, colliding with the guide’s booming voice echoing out from the numerous speakers encircling the stands.

Her head began to feel a dull pounding sensation. If it was the jet lag, now would be the worst time for it to come barreling to her face.

Oh no—

“Natalia! Natalia!”

“Great. . .” She muttered. Her fingers gripped tightly at the colorful lanyards crumpled in her hands before mustering up her best smile at the reporter practically running to her.

Just like that, her peace was destroyed same as yesterday and the day before.

She met him half way, twitching at how careless he shoved that big ass mic he had to her face.

Lowering down the object, she kept her polite gaze.

“Wonderful to see you here, Natalia!” He exclaimed, baring a toothy grin at her.

“Yes, it’s great to finally attend other races, for sure.” She nodded.

Before he even speaks, Natalia grumbles internally. She knew the look he gave him. It’s one of those looks that reports tend to give her before they ask something that they think she’ll be okay with, only to come at her with a full blown pompous comment in an attempt to humiliate her.

“Daddy Toto’s paying extra, eh?” On contrary to his guffawing figure, Natalia stood unfazed, simply chuckling despite the burning desire to rip this man’s remaining hair out his old balding head.

“Ferrari, actually.” She quipped, watching the confusion etch onto his face as his laugh dies down.

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m doing my internship in Ferrari,” She simpered at the him. “I’ll be graduating from university in a few months, you see.”

“I—I see!” Not surprising either that he’s got more up his agitating sleeve. “And what of Mercedes? Why did you not choose to work there?”

“I don’t choose,” She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “This opportunity was given to me and I am extremely grateful. It’s an honor to be working for Ferrari.”

She visibly held her breath as a herd of voices invaded behind the interviewer. Blood rushed to her ears as she realized they were getting closer.

She confirmed her suspicion as she peaked through, spotting the the sea of journalists trying to get past the security line.

“Natalia!”

“NATALIA! WHERE’S TOTO?”

“Is it true that you moved in with the Wolffs’?”

“Natalia! A moment please!”

“What’s going with you and Charles Leclerc?”

“Nice meeting you!” She hurried, as she turned her attention back to the previous torn on her side, nodding politely. “I’m afraid I must be going now. Hope you enjoy the race!” She waved to the other raging journalists, squinting as their chants of her name got louder.

Sprinting away to the Ferrari paddock, she sighed. She pushed the glass doors open, breathing in the comforting scent of lavender. This quiet atmosphere instantly brightened her mood.

Elation spread to her lips at the sight the delectable food on the buffet table. Delight flamed through her eyes at the sight of the various selection of Dutch delicacies.

She scanned the table, quite fascinated with each of the names written on a signage corresponding to the food. Grabbing a small plate, she picked out a few, such as sphere-shaped snacks called Bitterballen and Krudnoten. A happy sway parked in her as she noticed a Stroopwafel truck outside, making a mental note to stop by later.

“Halo, linda!”

She whirled around, a plaesant smile blossoming on her lips as the man with the most gorgeous hair in the grid, as they say, approaches her.

“Carlos! Long time no see!” Natalia said, bringing him into a short hug.

“It is, indeed. I hear you work for Charles now,” He wiggles his eyebrows at her, chuckling as her smile quickly faded

“Not for him,” She denies, putting her palm up. “I’m working with h— yeah okay, I am.” Drooping in defeat, she glares at Carlos’ amused smirk.

“So?” He asks, as if expecting her to understand.

“So, what?” She raises her brows.

“Do you like it?” He asks. “Working for him, that is.”

She tilts her head, biting into one of the treats on her plate. “His social media presence is getting better because of me . . .” Pride swells in her smile. “And I get to boss him around too. I’d say it’s not as bad as I thought. More fans for him equals more money for me.”

Carlos chortles at the brunette’s blatant response to which she joins in, giving him a high five. Their laughter was interrupted by the clamor from the outside.

A simultaneous air of exasperation crossed their minds, briefly casting a glance at one another at the sight of the countless cameras pointing towards their direction, zeroing in on them like they were Sea World’s latest attraction.

They waved at the clicking cameras, building up practiced smiles.

“The only thing missing is a hoop for us to jump through,” Natalia joked, nearly flying away from the force of Carlos’ whack on her arm.

She concealed her laughter, gripping onto his bicep for mental support as Carlos failed to control the hideous snort coming out of his mouth.

To the people outside, Sea World bearing the most valuable and interesting creatures has took a turn to become a mental institute where, apparently, the patients were graciously yanking and hitting each other in the midst of terribly cloaked hysterics.

Heavy hands weighed in on the shoulders of said mental patients, each baring their own expression of terror as the turned their backs to the audience outside and onto Ferrari’s Team Principal.

“Enjoying ourselves, aren’t we?” Fred quizzed, narrowing his gaze as he watched the merriment slowly melt away from their faces. “Natalia, Charles is asking for you. He’s in his drivers lounge?”

Without thinking, Natalia grimaced at the order. “In his driver’s lounge? Why does he need me—” She clamped her mouth shut, giving into the cutting glare staring into her soul. “Driver’s lounge. Got it!” Spinning around, zooming into the hall of the drivers lounge.

“What do you think?” Charles query was accompanied by a smirk of plume as he finished his pitch.

His company stood frigid, mouth twitching with her eyes on him. “I— I don’t—” A string of laughter erupted from her, doubling over as she struggled to regulate air.

Charles eyed her wildly amused figure crumple onto the floor, a smile slipping onto his face at the cheery atmosphere of his room.

“Is that even— allowed?” She managed to get out, look up at him and wiping away the tear pebbling at ducks.

Charles raises his hands, smirking at her. “It was your idea first!” He accused, pointing a finger at her.

She scoffed, getting to her feet before sitting down on the small bed of the driver’s room. “It was a joke!”

“Well, it sounds good to me,” He shrugged, grabbing his gloves in a compartment at the foot of his bed.

“No it doesn’t!” Natalia laughed again, head throwing back at the seriousness of Charles’ tone. “I am not making a montage of you with Usher’s Daddy’s home playing in the background!”

Charles gasp, laying a hand on his chest, feigning offense as he looked at her. “Oh come on!”

“No, you come on!” She retorted, as laughter continued to spill out of her mouth.

Reached towards the giggling body on the bed, placing his gloved hands on her shoulders. “Why not?” He mocked a whine, watching as her smile reached her eyes.

Even with protective gear on his hands, the warmth of her skin somehow found a way to seep onto his palms. As if the heat had crawled up in his brain, he pushed against her shoulders, relishing at the surprised squeak tumbling out her mouth as her back hit the mattress.

Her eyes blown into a pair of saucers, swallowing noticeably at the weight of his stare.

“What are you doing?” The tremor in her voice sent delightful shivers down Charles’ ego.

He dug into the confinements of his restraint as her delicate palm laid on his chest. The feverish heat worsened as she made no effort to push him away, merely blinding him with those rich mahogany irises—pulling him into an endless stream of desire.

She looks at him as if she wanted her to know that he can’t have her. Boarded into place, backed into the corner with no where to go.

“Stop looking at me like that—” He whispers, baring a grit of his teeth.

Despite the constricting grip on her dazed state, Natalia responded, soft and lightheaded. “What?”

Exasperated, Charles dropped his head on her shoulder, not missing the slight flinch of her body as he inhaled the flowery scent of her clothing.

“You—” He started, breath fanning onto her ear as he lifted his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you want me . . . Natalia,”

“We— we can’t. . .” She stuttered as conflicting thoughts troubled her mind. At Charles’ groan of protest, she shuts her eyes, hoping to gain enough composure.

And when she does, she cleared her throat, warding off the trembling sound of uncertainty.

“You know we can’t,” At the height of her sense, Charles woke up from the root of his fantasies, nodding his.

“Yes. . .” He mumbled, laying her chest, arms going around her waist. “I know— I know— I just— how about this—”

“Charles—” She sighed, ready to decline him.

He silenced her, rushing to overpower her voice. “If I win today, I take you out to dinner—” Seeing as she was about to intrude, he raised his palm up. “Just dinner. Nothing more. Just you and me.”

Her stiffening posture exuded hesitation, prompting Charles to rub comforting circles with his thumb on her waist.

Anxiety skyrocketed in her veins, her arm draped on Charles’ back, palm splayed. Like a broken record, the imaginative image of the past kept flashing in between the cracks of her current reality.

Charles grew concerned as her breath labored, hand suddenly clasping at the fabric of his fireproofs as if he’ll disappear if she releases him.

“Hey,” Charles cooed, immediately brushing her hair back after nervousness completely taking over her features. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

His hand slid down to her cheek, stroking her paled skin, successfully catching her attention.

In a second, the withering blocks of emotion’s disappeared. In it’s place was a tired sigh, and a pat on Charles’ back.

He furrowed at the sudden change, and how quickly she threw away the deep seated thoughts troubling her mind.

“A lot.” She stated, licking her lips. “But if you insist, then — okay.”

The Monegasque stared at her, unblinkingly. Unsure what to make of the fast-paced situation.

He did want it. However, the droll in her voice withered the excitement he initially felt. Heaviness countered the supposed delight of his agenda.

It made him more curious and worried as to what had caused her to be that way. Natalia Valle was the embodiment of spilled sun rays when he first saw her interacting with the Toto Wolff in the Marcedes garage.

But looking at her now, all the bright twinkle in her eyes had been lost in a maze of darkness.

“Alright.” He assessed her disheveled state, slowly standing up. “I’ll see you after the race,”

Natalia managed a small smile, reaching her hand up for assistance. Charles took it, pulling her up into a sitting position. His hand tilted up her head, having her look him straight in the eyes.

“Do your best,” the glint of anticipation in her eyes were hard to ignore, as she took Charles’ wrist in a gentle hold.

They nearly jumped out of their skin as a loud knock echoed through the room.

“Charles! It’s time!” It was Nicolas.

The pair shared a look, Natalia baring a reassuring smile to Charles who gives her a thankful nod.

The realization of Natalia’s whereabout came crashing down in a high speed collision as the roaring of the engines resounded across the hall.

She was about to witness a Formula One race.

And even with the vicious claws of anxiety latching at her wits and thunderstorms forming clouds on her head, maybe—just maybe fulfilling her childhood dreams is enough to block everything out for just a moment.

The words; Lights out and away we go, seemed too long ago. The Ferrari garage bathed in chaos. Fred Vasseuer red faced, eyes wide with frustration coursing through his veins. Said veins could also be seen surfacing on the sides of his neck as he screams through his mic connected to the drivers’ ears.

On his feet, his hand slapped against the wooden table, creating a resounding bang that can be heard underneath the headphone-encapsulated ears of Natalia.

As one could tell, even from the stands, Ferrari was not having a great race.

“NO! NO!” Fred’s strident wail pierced Natalia’s ears, causing her to squint and move the left bud off her hearing premises.

She watched helplessly as the red Formula One car adorning the number 16 rounded the corner, before coming in contact with a bright orange McLaren.

Natalia’s heart felt like it would combust into a million pieces as it quickened at the sight of the collision. Through the fog of her aching head, she stepped forward to get a better view.

“Damage,” Dread filled her bones as the words came trembling. “I— think I have floor damage. . .”

Chills kissing at her fingertips, Natalia held them together close to her chest, seemingly like a silent prayer.

“Copy.” His engineer, Xavier Marcos Pardros responded. “Keep driving. We pit later.”

Silent pleas of betterment flooded Natalia’s brain as she watched Charles perform with a half-broken vehicle.

She wasn’t an expert on anything related to Formula One. No, however, she was aware that damages to the car commonly entails a bad omen which eventually leads to a retirement.

The tormenting suspense of what’s to come bit at Natalia’s sane conciliation, hands clutching at her sides. Her dilated eyes darted through the screen, focused on Charles’ car. His wheels were visibly wavering as the race dragged on. The extent of the damage slowly catching up to him.

“There’s no down force!” Natalia flinched at the strain in his voice.

A gloomy atmosphere manifested inside the garage as everyone received the words. The limit had been reached as the car was slowly losing its vivacious speed. He was deliberately losing control of the car and finally, as he turned, he drove directly onto a wall, a tire getting caught in the metallic borders of the track.

“You okay?” Xavi radioed.

“Yeah yeah—It’s a—sorry, guys—fuck. . .”

It was deafening, the silence. Only, excluding for the painful cries of self-loathing in resonating through Natalia’s headphones. She had to cover her eyes at the impact of the crash, as the pounding of her heart refused to settle down.

“Ah—fucking—FUCK!”

Natalia slid her headphones down to rest at her neck, hands shaking at the disappointment that echoed through Charles’ voice. She didn’t have the capacity to listen through the mournful anguish that flooded at her sympathy.

Without her headphones, she looked at the screen. A safety car has been deployed and the camera zoomed in on Charles climbing out the car. Frustration showing on his movements despite having a full body protective gear. He slammed his hands on the halo of his car as he stood up, before sliding his gloves off his hands, practically ripping them in the process.

“We focus on Sainz, now,” Fred droned, defeated as he molded back into his seat.

Charles couldn’t hear a thing aside from the organ protected by his ribcage pump at a merciless pace. His skin flushed underneath all the gear, as if it was weighing down his sanity further. His steps heavy as he strode to the Ferrari garage. A single thought crossing his mind.

There she sat, worry simmering at the pout of her lips, reflecting greatly with the dim clouding her eyes. As he neared her hunched form, she whipped around, gaping at him with an apologetic look on her face.

She was robbed of the chance to say something as he hauled her off her seat, strong grip on her arm. He dragged her with him, failing to take regard of Natalia’s worried glance at not only him, but most especially the pile of reporters crowding in front of the garage.

She tried to yank herself away from him but her strength was no match for his.

Xavi was quick to intervene just as they were out of the public eye.

“Charles!” He hissed, pulling at the angered Monegasque.

Natalia’s shock was as prominent as the tsunami of distaste cloaking Charles face. His brows pinned into a pointed stem, eyes shamelessly staring daggers and defeating Xavi’s own anger at the driver’s rash anger.

“Vous ne vous souciez pas de votre réputation?” Do you not care about your reputation? Xavi stressed, pushing at Charles’ chest as if to shake him back into rationality.

His loud scoff stabbed into Natalia’s hearing, causing her to wince. It differed entirely to whenever they were engaged in horseplay. The sweetened teasing was long gone, adamantly supplemented with bone-rattling fury.

“Ma réputation était foutue depuis longtemps!” My reputation was fucked long ago! He roared, retaliating with a hard shove of his own that sent Xavi propelling on the opposite wall.

“Charles!” Natalia shrieked, recovering from her frozen shock. “Calm the fuck down—” She went to check on the possibly injured man but the restraining grip on her arm contained her.

The protest died in her throat as the race engineer raised his hand, looking at her with reassuring ease. She was about to offer her more help but he simply upped and left like it was nothing.

Displeasure swam in her consciousness as Charles pulled her along with him to his room. He opened the door, urging her to sit down on her previous spot.

Like a controlled robotic figure, she complied. The energy to yell at him for his inappropriate behavior diminished as she came face to face with him.

Beneath the proper lighting, the marks left by his helmet scrawled lines onto his face. His tired eyes drooped in despair along with the noticeable sag of his shoulders as he arranged his racing gear.

Natalia observed he placed his helmet on the counter, fingers dragging on the shell, inducing a scrapping sound that matched his emotions.

He turned to face her, treading towards her in a slow manner. His knees hit the floor as he kneeled down to Natalia’s level.

Short puffs of breath lammed from her lungs at how little the expanse contained. She looked away, aware of the oddity in her stare.

“I didn’t win.”

The same disappointment lathered his tone but it was the arm he looped around her waist that caught her attention back to him.

She instantly wished she resisted the urge to look back as she was plowed down by his pleading crystalline orbs. Unable to tear her eyes from this hypnotic beauty, she wetted her chapped lips.

“That’s okay. . .” Natalia cringed at her weak assurance, but nonetheless weaved her fingers through his damp hair as if to compensate.

Charles flickered his eyes close as Natalia began to massage his scalp, the stress from the race draining away from his bones with every glide of her careful and dainty digits.

Natalia cocked her head to the side as Charles’ face relaxed, the lines on his forehead were no longer visible and his lips now rested into a soft smile.

“I’m sorry,” He grunted, tightening his grasp on her mid-section. “You’re gonna be all over the news.”

She bit her lips at the topic. Despite her awareness of the situation, she had completely ignored it, putting Charles’ ragging actions at a priority.

“They say things all the time,” She quipped, giving his brown locks a slight tug that got him to open his eyes and look into hers. The sincerity of his regret reflected in them. “At the very least, Toto being my alleged sugar daddy will finally stop. . .”

Charles knew that it was a prod to make him feel better, yet he took it without hesitation. His negative emotions were immediately dethroned at the sight of Natalia’s teasing smirk.

He bellowed out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back. “You’d rather have them think the engagement rumors are true?”

She screwed her face up, whacking him on the shoulder. “No, I’m just saying, it’d be nice if people stirred away from that repulsing narrative.”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you looked like a hooker,”

Her jaw slacked, staring him down in the most disbelieving light she could ever imagine.

“Fuck off!” She giggled, stopping the vibration of his shoulders by landing a sportive punch near his chest.

A moment passes before Charles gains the courage to part Natalia’s denim-clad thighs, watching her reaction as he went further.

Seeing as there was no discomfort in her eyes, he slotted himself between the warmth of her legs, arms bracing his left arm beside her thigh while the other retained on her waist.

“I’m still on for that dinner, if you’re good to go. . .” Natalia wondered, tilting her head at him.

“Are you?” He hummed, drawing innocent patterns on the skin of her waist.

Goosebumps rose in the wake of Charles’ touch. He had risen the knitted top Natalia had worn, leaving the exposed skin at his mercy.

“It’s just dinner.” Her firm determination amused Charles, giving her a reassuring smile.

“It is.” He confirmed. “But I’d rather order in— I’m not up to be roasted in public after today.”

Natalia sympathized with his decision, squeezing his shoulder in the hopes to comfort him. “Of course, I understand.” She taps his cheek, pinching it softly between her finger.

Staying here would be the most logical option.

Her attempt to stand was quickly halted, as Charles’ arm on her waist pulled her back down.

A glint of confusion painted on both their features for different reasons.

“Where you going?”

“You said you wanted to order in.” She blinked owlishly at him, trying to figure out the miscommunication.

“I do.” He said, striking her with one of his compelling looks. “So, tell me what you want to eat,”

The wheeled dinged in Natalia’s bemused thoughts, nodding her head as she began to understand his implications.

“Oh—Oh! With me!” She amassed, as if assuring herself. At Charles’ validation, she started to think about her choice. “I’m not very good at picking specific food. I only look at the description and hope for the best, really.”

Charles smiled at her sheepish expression, bobbing his head in understanding. “Alright. I’ll order for you then.”

He got to his feet, shocking Natalia as he began unzipping his race suit.

She immediately looked away, face warming at the abrupt action. Shifting her gazing anywhere aside from the man appearing to be planning to undress in front of her.

Natalia swore she could hear the annoying smile growing on his lips as he said, “Relax I’m not taking my clothes off here. I still have to get an ice bath. We’ll go after.”

“Yeah— wait. . . Hold on, go where?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows.

Charles stalked to the door, laying his hand on the knob. His gaze lingered at Natalia’s, adoring the boiling thoughts evidently stowing in her eyes.

“Where else? At my apartment, of course.”

Oh— order in!

“You didn’t think we’d stay here all night, did you?”

Yes, she did. Embarrassingly so.

“Shut up, English isn’t my first language.” She grunted, hoping to save face.

Unsurprisingly, Charles crushed it as easily. Laughing at her futile attempt. “Mine too.”

She sighed, shooing him away. “Go jump in your ice water or whatever.”

Laughter rang through the halls as he opened the door, smile broadening at her crimson dusted cheeks.

He sent her a wink before leaving her to her own cluttered thoughts. She caught herself mapping out the possible scenarios that could take place in Charles’ apartment, weaving away from the inappropriate scenes flaunting in the premise of her own deliberations.

As she sunk herself deeper in the captivity of her brain, she fell short in noticing the coffin she had built herself into. Her abysmal empathy for Charles made her overlook the blaring details of her hesitance to join him for a meal— let alone be in his personal space.

Entering Charles’ apartment flared the consigned fear etched onto her senses. It wasn’t Charles that she feared. On the contrary she was afraid of compromising her self control more than anything else.

Lucky for her, the man in her thoughts share the same predicament as he sat rigidly in a tub of freezing water, plagued with similar impure thoughts running laps in his head. There was no doubt at all that Toto Wolff would castrate him alive and impale his head on a pike if he were to ever hear them.

Taglist: @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @janeholt3

[cod-imagines-fanfiction]

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend to be interrogated by the 141 (2.3k words, part 2)

Summary: Valeria despairs when you don't answer her calls and immediately returns to her residence, only to find you gone. In the meantime, Graves presses you for information, and Alejandro starts to understand why Valeria hides you so well.

TW: mentions of cheating, toxic Valeria and very toxic Alejandro (OOC but I think it adds juicy drama, sorry for ruining him!). Mentions of death and violence. apologies for the imperfect Spanish, I've been using Google Translate! I titled this as 'Valeria's girlfriend' but I ended up writing them as kind of unofficially married. Link to part 1 Link to part 3 Link to A03

Valeria knew something was wrong when you didn't pick up the phone. In all your years together, she never had to call for you more than once, you were always at her beck and call. Her face turned to stone as the call went to voicemail, it felt like her heart stopped and then started again with fire and poison. In hindsight, she should have worried about your safety first, but unfortunately, her insecurities got the best of her. Anger seethed within her as she thought of all the ways you had betrayed her the moment she left you alone. Infidel! Her right-hand man Rafael was looking at you closely when she left, no? How could she be so blind as to trust you? Of course, you were jumping around with her men behind her back - you seemed all innocent and pure, but sure enough the viper within revealed itself and finally slithered out of her tight grasp. Immediately, she called Rafael to check up on the house, and when he also didn't pick up the phone, she cut her trip short and packed her bags. El Sin Nombre doesn't need to explain why she's leaving early! She commanded her business partners to figure it out amongst themselves as she went to her chopper and rushed home. Her hands shook as she navigated the helicopter, her mind unable to stop thinking of all the ways you were intertwined with Rafael on your marriage bed; desecrating your marriage vows. Of course this would happen. Why would fate let Valeria get away with the betrayal she'd inflicted on Alejandro? It was only right that her karmic debt would catch up with her.

It was as she was lowering her helicopter on the freshly cut grass of your home that she began to realise her devastating mistake. Doors were left open with the curtains billowing with the wind, broken glass from shattered windows littered the entryway and, worst of all, dried trails of blood lead a path from the house to the bushes. Her heart caught at her throat as her eyes roamed frantically from one catastrophic sign to the other. Guilt coiled around her stomach and she cursed her darkness for having doubted your loyalty when really, you were fighting for your life. "Mi esposa," Valeria whispered as rushed out of her helicopter, the blades still cutting the air as she ran indoors, not even bothering to be cautious of any enemies that could still be lurking within the shadows. She knew there were bodies dumped behind the green bushes that you so tenderly cared for, but she couldn't make herself check for you there. Part of her hoped you were smart and had the time to hide somewhere good, but she knew you were as helpless as a child when it came to things like this. You, who were so kind and good, left to fend for yourself. How could she possibly think you'd remain unharmed within this field of work? Valeria selfishly forced a divine light like you to live in the shadows with her, of course you'd get snuffed out eventually. If not by Valeria's own hand, her selfishness and greed, her need to possess and own you at all times, then by the selfish and greedy hands of others. All these thoughts rushed through her as she ran from one hallway to another, rushing to your part of the mansion. Memories of violence clung to your home like spiderwebs, she could see the struggle that ensued in the doors left open when you'd normally keep them closed. In the flower vase that you lovingly refilled every week that now lay on the floor shattered, shattered like her heart. The flowers lay on the floor, dying.

"Mi corazon...," she whimpered and came to a stop right before your bedroom door, one hand clutching her chest as she stood there, too afraid to step in and face your fate. She could only hear the wind catching on your curtains and the light humming of your electric blanket. She could already picture the catastrophe. You were in bed, lathering your lotions on, probably adjusting your night light because you were too afraid to sleep in the dark without Valeria next to you. You were all snuggled for bed, probably waiting for her call on the phone, when somebody came for you. "God, give me courage," she said as she stepped inside and lifted her eyes.

It was as if you evaporated into thin air. She saw the marks your body left on the bed where you lay on it and your phone was still there. Valeria's eyes scanned every inch of the space, no blood or other fluids were on any of the surfaces. You were either taken, or whatever happened to you happened elsewhere. All your belongings were still there. She didn't want to have false hope, so she willed herself to look at the bodies left by the bushes. She charged through the rest of the houses, taking note of all the mess. Her chopper was still on as she crossed the garden you tended to, the sweet smell of roses faintly covering the stench of blood lifting from the pile of bodies. Rafael was there, along with the rest of her men who manned the house in her absence. Treacherous relief washed through her because you were not there. This was the most devastating attack that Valeria had ever experienced in all her years and she could not think of anyone that hated her enough to do this. A rival cartel? Unlikely. They were violent criminals, sure, but they still kept a code of conduct amongst themselves. El Sin Nombre was the biggest competitor out there, no one was so stupid as to do this.

Valeria went to the security room and saw the CCTV footage. Her heart stopped when she saw an all-too-familiar figure invading her home. The tall, dark man cut through her men and made his way directly to where her wife lay. It's like he knew exactly where she was. "Alejandro?" Valeria's heart dropped as she watched Alejandro prepare to break the door and attack her wife, who was shrouded in a naive innocence where she could never comprehend the attack she was about to experience.

Angry tears threatened to spill from her glassy eyes as she saw Alejandro's hand grab you by the throat and drag you out of your marital bed. The same bed that you made love in every night, now permanently defiled with the way he violently dragged you out of it. Bruises from his fingers would have definitely formed on your soft skin by now, if you were still alive. Valeria watched on as Alejandro handcuffed her wife and pushed her through the hallways, saying something to her ear whilst parading her through the home she was supposed to be safe in. It was no coincidence that Alejandro stared directly at one of the cameras as he pushed her wife forward, looking directly at Valeria's eyes. This was no incidental operation; this was deliberate and malicious. More so, it was fucking personal. Yes, this was where Valeria ran her operation, but it was also the home you and her nested in so lovingly. And now it was trampled all over by men in uniforms, just like those fallen flowers. She forced herself to watch on as you were put in a helicopter and disappeared in the night sky.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "I hope you're ready to talk now, sweetheart." After a few hours of silence, the door to the container you were kept in opened, bringing in some rays of sunlight before shutting again. The American, whom you now knew was called Commander Graves, entered along with Alejandro. It had been many hours since your abduction, you had no way of telling how long exactly. But you were tired and restless, and cold. You thought they might move you to a cell at least, but they made no effort to transfer you out of the metal container. Too afraid to say anything when not spoken to, you sat still and waited. You wondered if Valeria had noticed your absence yet but even if she did, how could she find you? "I'm not sure what to tell you, sir." You remained polite hoping that courtesy would make up for your lack of talking. "Don't be like that, there's plenty to tell. How about we start with this little business trip of hers?" Graves circled around you, placing his hand on your shoulder before finally coming to a stop. " What'du hear about it?" Graves had many years of experience underneath his belt when it came to interrogation, especially the violent ones. And so did the 141. That was made very clear from the beginning. If this was any ordinary member of the cartel, they'd have buried them by now. But spouses were different; you hurt them and there'll be hell to pay. Even worse, there'll be no chance of making a deal with Valeria. "Like I said, I just know she went away for it, sir, that's all."

"Hm," he said and dropped his hand. He moved to stand right in front of you. "Well, you must know something. You know she's El Sin Nombre. You know she runs the biggest drug cartel in Latin America. You know she runs an international operation, you know she has friends in many places. What am I missing here?"

You looked up at him. "That's basically it, sir. It's a drug operation. But I don't know where it comes from, who her manufacturers are, or how she sells it. She doesn't deal with small details." Graves was starting to lose his patience, and not with her but with Alejandro. He couldn't understand why he insisted on extracting a housewife instead of the real deal. Here he was trying to gather intel on those Russian missiles with a trophy wife who hasn't had a day out of the kitchen, let alone discussions with the biggest terrorist organisation in the world. It was time to cut loose and make the call. "Hermano, take over for me will ya? I'll be right back." Graves walked away, wondering what General Sherperd will think of this whole situation.

You were alone with Alejandro now, who paced up and down the compound like a restless animal. You wondered to yourself how similar he was to Valeria, she had the exact same habit when she was stressed. They were very similar in temperament; too similar. Aggressive, hard-headed and dominant. Part of you gloated at the whole situation. Here was a Colonel of the Mexican Army, a well-decorated military man, wasting his time with you, someone quite irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, all because of- "Your wife," he said, disrupting your thoughts and you suddenly realised you were staring at him. "Is that correct?" He nodded at your ring finger. "Yes, sir," you replied timidly. He was exactly like Valeria, and it worked in your favour. You've spent so many years living with your partner that it was almost too easy to deal with people like her. People who could fill up a room with their presence; intimidating, powerful people who could hurt you badly. The sort of people who made the world go round. People, in other words, who could be domesticated.

Because violence and intimidation aren't the only ways to get what you want. Alejandro scoffed, "you've come a long way from that food stand, huh?" He looked at you with a faraway look in his eye, his mind having entered that shrouded area of the psyche where apparitions of the past hover, always eager to glide into the present in the form of memories. Your heart softened both at the memory he was referencing and because, at that moment, he seemed so pitifully sad, having lost himself in reminiscence.

Many years ago, you helped your Abuela run her restaurant in Las Almas, which stood very close to where the Mexican Army had its headquarters. Your Abuela was a genius in strategy and profited a lot from the laziness of soldiers who couldn't be bothered to cook for themselves but who also didn't want to eat whatever the Army served. And that's how you met Valeria, who was regularly sent by her teammates to fetch a group order. Valeria picked up the food because it was expected of her, an unfortunate burden of being one of the youngest women in her squad. But over time, she did it because it meant she got to see you. To everyone's surprise, when Valeria ran away to work for the cartel, that quiet girl in the small restaurant vanished too. "Alejandro." His eyes snapped back into yours. "Lo siento mucho. I really didn't know about you and Valeria. I am not that kind of person." You knew exactly what this was all about. Sure, they wanted to get El Sin Nombre and Valeria *was* the head of the biggest drug operation in the world. And she *has* made Las Almas dance to the rhythm of her tune for the past decade. But this was all just a big temper tantrum. And if you played your cards right, you could leave unscathed. You continued, "Whatever happens, I just wanted you to know that. I am truly sorry. I never meant to hurt anyone."

Something changed in his eyes. You could already picture what was about to happen. After your sincere self-flogging will come his pity, then the remorse. He might chuck you in a cell to show that he's treating you like the criminal collaborator that they all think you are, but soon enough he'll arrive bearing the fruits of forgiveness. Just like Valeria, you told yourself. Like moths to a flame. "Hm," he mumbled to himself, his eyes roaming all over you. "I get it now." He cocked his head to the side, "eres una cosa encantadora." At that moment, you felt a change in the air, something dark hovered between you two. It made you shiver.

"Tell me, Y/N. Have you ever been with a man?"

Hope you enjoy this part! Promised tags: @justmare @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @lesvii @silas-222 I'll bring Valeria and her partner together in part 3! I've also thought of a cute backstory for them that I want to get into :) also sorry for ruining Alejandro, i made him so toxic in this fic 😭

[simp4konig]

"Can I sit here?" König x Gender-neutral Reader (Part 2)

Word count: ~2700

König finally asks you out on a date!

*Slow burn

*Friends (to Lovers?)

*FINALLT a Part 2 to 👉👉this fic rught here!! Tysm to those for being so patient in regards to part 2 kf this fic!!!😽 i hope u guys think this js good enoigh to be the sequel 😢😢😢 😢 Lots of fluff!!! 🥺🥺SOME suggestive themes but only if u squint 🧐

*Author STILL doesn't speak German!! 🇩🇪🙅🏼(im so sorru to any German-speakers thst xan see thru my Google Translate and whince in pain 😬Not mucj i can do abt it 🤷🏼‍♀️otber than spend 3 yrs learning the language and i do NOT ❌have time for thst‼️sorry😿)

...

Life on the barracks was still as mundane as ever for König.

With no new information on any recent targets or any gang syndicates appearing on their radar, he had to ease in to this rather boring lifestyle, his only source of entertainment being at target practice. Never really paying much thought to what he could get up to when he had free time — the truth was, he had never had any — he essentially was left twiddling his thumbs, this being the worst part about his job.

With no hobbies, König chose to kill time by going to the gym more often, working out with high intensity. On particularly slow days he'd enter the gym for a second time, going in when he knew no one else would be around so he would have the equipment all to himself.

He still wasn't a fan of the monotony, yet he grew more appreciative as a new factor entered his schedule, the recent recruit that had made his life more interesting: you.

Ever since that day when you chose to sit at his table, you always walked to the corner of the cafeteria where he was sitting with something new to tell, and König would listen attentively, not looking away from you once. Having you chat in front of him every morning and afternoon gave him something to look forward to during the otherwise uneventful mornings and afternoons, and he over time became more pleasant to be with and less and less awkward.

He'd wait eagerly at his usual table, looking forward to seeing your face. You made it your due diligence to prepare him something the day before, which would usually be the same that you would have, and the two of you would eat in a comfortable silence, König always being complimentary about the food no matter how simple it was to prepare.

"Mein Gott! Delicious, this is, maus! You really are talented," he'd proclaim, the sound muffled by a mouthful of food.

Maus. You had noticed König begin dropping in words like that when addressing you instead of your call-sign, yet you, being an ignorant Westerner, couldn't even Google their meanings as you had no clue how attempt to spell them. Maus, on the other hand, was self-explanatory; your height difference made you look like a "mouse" to him. You weren't sure whether to take it as a compliment or not, but you didn't question it further.

Shaking your head with a smile, you'd wave a dismissive hand at his remarks. "Eh, those are just simple pancakes. It would be hard for someone to not make them delicious, in all honesty."

"Nein, I mean it!" He'd reply in earnest, not breaking eye contact. "No one could replicate the... the flavour! The—" König struggled for words, his vocabulary limited enough as it was, yet with you in front of him he'd be unable to recall nothing that he had been taught in his English lessons.

Still, he'd persevere. "Das köstliche aroma! It's— so good. Very good."

A bashful laugh. "Okay, okay, König! I get it." You placed a hand on your chest, trying to downplay the rising blush on your cheeks. "Really, I'm flattered. Thank you."

To which König's eyes would crinkle, a sure sign of a thick smile under that hood of his. He was glad you couldn't see it, though, as he was sure he looked like an idiot.

When you'd be late by a few minutes, König could feel himself start to panic, his mind racing with possibilities at what could have happened to you. His anxiety was irrational yet his alarm was nothing short from genuine, only having good intentions; to keep you from harm's way.

He wanted to protect you, but he didn't know your schedule yet, thus hated not knowing where you were at all times. Tense shoulders visibly relaxed seeing you hurry through the double doors, and he'd let out a sigh of relief, trying to remember what he had planned to say, last minute rehearsals gone over in his head.

All of that careful planning went of out of the window, though, as the two of you would talk about everything and nothing, sometimes about something deep and philosophical; other times, your favourite type of cheese, and each rave about them respectively for five minutes flat.

You were a breath of fresh air for König, which was why he was now training with such vigour.

When working out, König made minimal noise, his movements quick and controlled. This time, however, he was grunting with effort, working until maximum exhaustion and completely drenched in sweat.

Before, he had never bothered with his appearance, only carrying the basic neccesities and wearing tactical gear that was comfortable enough and wasn't too tight. With his height, it was difficult enough to find form-fitting clothes to begin with, and damn near impossible when his bulk was considered, so any clothing that somewhat fit was good enough to König to wear on a day-to-day basis.

Yet, on numerous occasions, he found himself staring at his barren closet, contemplating over what outfit would look best with the few options he had.

Thinking of you made him want to look better for you, to make him worth your time, and he busied himself with searching on the internet and comparing reviews for the best cologne, for the best aftershave, even finding the best shirts from a niche private retailer that nearly catered to his needs to a tee, and he'd specifically select t-shirts that revealed his bulging biceps whenever he crossed his arms and would show off his body to you. A physique he maintained and would improve with you in mind, not necessarily for the sake of being the ideal soldier.

He would practice conversation in the mirror, thinking up of the funniest jokes to say, the most interesting topics to bring up. Suddenly, the English textbooks that were long forgotten about under his bed and the dust-covered German-English dictionary became of use, and he'd study the words, the idioms, the grammar, committing it all to memory. A pencil in hand and a lamp shining down on the notebook in front of him, he'd write late into the night, improving his sentence structure and mastering the expressions he had highlighted earlier, not knowing their definitions.

You were worth the effort, and he vowed to do this right. He wanted to impress you, and didn't want you to ditch him or think of him as less for the way he presented himself.

He'd shower and comb the hair back that you wouldn't see (yet he felt it a necessary thing to do, just in case), and generously sprayed himself with scented deodorant, before going to his usual spot at the cafeteria with his chest puffed out, hoping he looked immaculate.

And he did. His colleagues and lower-downs noticed this shift in his charisma and his growing confidence, actively taking advantage of his status rather than watching passively in the back of the room. They could sense his presence as he was walking down the corridors, yet rather than immediately looking down at the ground, instead saluted him with a respectful: "Good afternoon, Colonel Sir."

Really, he was elated. He had never felt this happy in years, and he was loving this feeling, walking around base now with a self-assured swagger to his step.

Waiting, though, was the worst part about your encounters. Minutes felt like hours as König held a hand over his bouncing knee to keep it in place, his stomach fluttering with butterflies as he waited in anticipation.

Truth was, you'd always be worn out after training after your instructor pushed you to your limits, and sometimes took longer in getting ready and making yourself look presentable than other times because your joints were aching and your clothes stuck to you from how sweaty you were.

Now, quickly combing your hair and rolling some deodorant under your armpits, you had a goofy grin on your face, excited to see König again.

König, the 6'10 giant who was really just a sweet Austrian man to you.

His dead enemies, however, would be rolling in their graves and yelling in protest at the thought of you calling the brutal murderer that snapped their necks like they were twigs "sweet".

Really, you were ignorant to people's stances on him, and would defend his honour on his behalf with innocent stubbornness, with naive certainty that you were right. After all, he was a gentle giant!

Even if his total 180 shift was true, you doubted the full extent of his brutality. So what if he got a little aggressive? Adrenaline could do a lot to a man!

Still yet to see the side of him that König was trying desperately to keep hidden from you, he intended to keep it that way for as long as he could.

Counting down the seconds on his watch, König was sure you'd come in any moment now. A minute passing and he imagined that you'd come rushing in though the doors, frantically apologising for taking so long before sitting down and giving all of your attention to him, giving him the attention that he had never received from anyone so attractive before.

This meeting, however, was going to be different. He had revised all that he had wanted to say and exactly how he wanted to say it, until the words were permanently engraved in his brain.

At last, the double doors opened and there you were, a lopsided smile on your face as you speed-walked towards his table, already apologising sincerely and explaining why you were late by a few minutes before you had even sat down yet.

Honestly, your kindness towards König was too much for him to bear, and his heart was near the point of exploding from joy from having you so concerned over punctuality, when he considered it a blessing that the engel in front of him would even spare him any time of their day.

Eyes crinkling in a smile, König shook his head. "Nein, schatz. There is not a thing to be sorry for."

"But there is! I always keep you waiting and It's my bad," you said, rubbing your arm. "Sorry."

He shook his head again, this time reassuringly. "Don't be."

Then, added. "You're worth the wait."

Not knowing what to make of this, you sat down, trying to hide the fact that his remark flustered you.

Coughing as you deliberately tried to change topics. "How was your day, König? Beat up any bad guys at all?"

A chuckle. "Das ist lustig," he admitted. "Funny, but I wish. Only been at the gym today. But I also have been devoting some of my time to studying English."

Raised eyebrows in admiration as you nodded your head. "Your English has certainly improved, König," you observed, noticing how König would commit fewer and fewer grammar mistakes when speaking, until he was confident enough to even use some colloquial idioms of his own. Of course, some of the German ones didn't translate so well, yet you couldn't deny that there was improvement.

Not having told König anything about it, you yourself had actually begun learning some German on your own to surprise him with it one day, yet with how you were progressing at the moment you thought that this would be better left unsaid for the time being. Your knowledge of the language only went as far as "Guten morgen" and "Mein Name ist King". So, nothing extraordinary.

You smiled, your eyes reflecting the cafeteria lights. "I'm sure by the end of this year you'll be the most well-spoken on base! You'll probably become more fluent than me soon."

König was lost in your sparkling eyes, his sight taking in all of your features. You were so beautiful, so perfect.

"Danke, schön, but I still have a long way to go." Momentarily glancing at your lips for a split of a second, before he quickly cleared his throat. "I had... I had actually something to ask you, maus."

You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowed. "Really? What is it?"

The expectant expression on your face made König's voice hitch in his throat, suddenly forgetting all that he had carefully rehearsed and had revised for consecutive afternoons. "Y-you see—"

A thoughtful pause as he considered his next words, weighing the pros and cons of risking it all. "—From the day you sat down at my table, I— I've never felt this happiness in all my years on this world," he began steadily.

"My childhood... was... not the best—" He winced, and did not elaborate further. You didn't push him to, and waited patiently for him to finish. "—But... you make all those times I was unhappy forgettable when I make new memories with you. I couldn't be happier when you're with me. And—"

König took in a deep breath. "...Will you— will you do me the honour... of going on a date with me?"

Shock. This was not what you had expected. At all.

Your eyes were wide and throat dry as you licked your lips. No one had ever asked you on a date before. You hadn't dated a single person in all your years of living, or even went as far as having your first kiss, which was embarassing to admit. Too afraid to put yourself out there and keeping reserved in fear that you wouldn't be good enough, those same doubts entered your mind as you imagined König with someone better, someone more intelligent and more attractive, someone that always knew what to say in moments like these.

Not you, this moron that couldn't even learn some basic German for him, and the family's disappointing child which enlisted in the military as a last resort, with no qualifications good enough to secure you another job.

As you looked at the floor, König regretted ever bringing this up.

Oh Gods, did he cross a boundary? What if you didn't like him the way he liked you? What if— what if you were already in a relationship?! What if you were too nice to turn him down and tell him the truth?

It suddenly occured to you that you had not replied to König's proposal for a whole minute, and you pulled yourself together, reaching despairingly for his hand with a trembling one of your own, fearing that you blew everything.

"Oh my God, König— yes. Yes! I'd love to go on a date with you!"

König let out a breath that he didn't know he had been holding. "—Really? You— want to go on a date... with me?"

You nodded emphatically, compensating for your lack of response. "Yes! Fuck, I'm so sorry for not saying anything, I just—"

Quiet laughter. "I know, you're late to things," he teased, your face red. "Schatz, I think... I think we can make this work. Is— is it okay if I pick you up at 6 on Friday?"

"It's more than okay! It's perfect, König!" A goofy grin as you couldn't contain your child-like excitement. Then, a sheepish rub of the neck. "And... I pinky promise that I will be ready on time. I wouldn't miss our date for the world."

Later on, as he was rounding the corner and knew no one could see him, he punched at the air enthusiastically, feeling like he had just won the lottery; only, the grand prize was you.

Locking his bedroom door and immediately crossing off the date on his calendar, his body dropped on a chair.

With his head on his palm, he smiled.

He couldn't wait to see you again.

...

Note: I fed u guys with a fluffy fic in preparation for my upcoming one as imGONNA BREAK UR HEARTS INTO A MILLION PIECES WITH THE NEXT ONE U READ👺👺my next fic is angst Angst ANGST and u habe to be mentslly prepared for it... 💔

If u are sad throighout it and feel empty inside dont say that i djdnt warn you beacuse its gonna be some REAL shit rjbht there and abojt to get HELLA Depressing🗿🗿

Thankfully it is going to have SOME sort of happy conclusion to rub less salt in ur wounds🥲 and on top of that I posted this first so u dont get a doible whammy of angst<33

[axuanmii]

admit you ship incest dude. the cn/jp shippers say its incest. pick up a book and translate it, it says kaeya is adopted. .. and heres a long paragraph about how incest is only between biological families and more disrespect to people who are adopted...

no idea why my inbox didn't give me this notif until now, but now's a better time than any to talk more about this.

i'm chinese. i speak fluent mandarin chinese. i've consulted other native chinese speakers about this, both genshin players and unrelated. i play genshin with chinese audio and english subs specifically to catch and complain about inaccuracies. i'd reveal more information but then i think it'd be trivially easy to doxx me if one knew what they were looking for.

fundamentally, the issue of incest lies in physical reproduction, yet i find adoptive incestuous relationships discomforting all the same. it's why i didn't like or finish go ahead (以家人之名) because i felt that it laid too much into the siblings aspect for romantic relationships to be feasible, and it was super contradictory from the initial general message of the first bittersweet yet wholesome episode.

however, personally, i just don't think kaeya felt like a part of the family until crepus's death and he really reflected on crepus's actions towards him (hangout). and even after beginning to view crepus as a father figure, he wouldn't have so shallowly made the transition for diluc to be his brother by adoption and consequently changed his entire mind about the guy (which you can see with the way he chooses to refer to both men with different terms, one adoptive and familial, one very clearly 'sworn', very consistently throughout the whole game. if that ever changes in chinese, well, at least you can know that i'll make a post about it if i still care about genshin by then.)

the localization team does make plenty of serious mistakes, and it's of my opinion that as a result, it has very clearly skewed character relationships with those mistakes, (cynari and collei, eulamber, some npcs in liyue, sumeru) some from cultural differences, some just from lazy translation overall. there's layers of complexity in how chinese utilizes honorifics and affectionate terms, as well as contextual consideration between fiction and reality, and sometimes i feel like the english localization team just threw it all into google translate and called it a day.

i don't even ship kaeluc that much. i like to call it the secret third thing where they can't get off their asses to talk about anything ever so they exist in an undefined space and to have them return to any semblance of a healthy relationship, platonic, familial, or romantic, would require a novel's length worth of development that hoyoverse will probably never write, and so my brain has made up novels of all three kinds and more.

however, i also don't care about people who do ship kaeluc or treat any other fictional media in an incestuous or otherwise problematic manner, regardless of language or culture. this is because i operate on a "don't like, don't read, don't interact" mindset. it makes being in fandom more fun; you should try it.

my disappointment wasn't aimed at the fact that i think too little people ship kaeluc. it just sucks to see people claim that that's what's wrong with the fandom and spin this evil gross imagery around the ship over a misunderstanding, especially when that's not how i view it. it's also the only thing vehemently regularly repeated ('klcers dni') when there's so many other issues with the game and the fandom.

(off topic but what's the worst thing that'll happen if a kaeluc shipper likes your fan stuff. it's not like they come into your tumblr asks to bother you with an "oh btw you're wrong about how you enjoy this media and this is what's right"-- oh wait that's what's going on here right)

including the fact that people like you purposefully go around searching in the kaeluc tag (which you probably did, because nobody is scrolling that far back in my blog to find this one specific post to complain about) to police and pick fights with people over a stupid issue from 2020/2021. i guess tumblr isn't a safe place to talk about kaeluc either lmao.

and to think i left anon asks on in the hopes that it could be an inbox for anyone who wanted to ask me art questions or just leave something positive and not feel too awkward (where do i get the confidence in thinking anyone would ask my incompetent brain for help lol).

to be fair, it's going to be my fault for continuing to draw attention to this by responding to such an ask instead of just deleting it and moving on but fuck it we ball.

this ended up pretty long but i feel like it would've been too rude to just say "会说中文的干嘛要翻书 :P". probably would've been funnier though and saved me a lot of time. kudos to you if you actually read this and read through everything.

final note:

[poppy-purpura]

Hello! I’ve been thinking after seeing your art, and I’m just a little curious about something.

Do you ship Five Pebbles and Unparalleled Innocence romantically? I’m asking because it’s actually a concept I’ve been considering for a bit, and some of your iterator art just seems to suggest that kind of relationship between them, at least when I see it! Is that intentional, or am I misinterpreting your art? And if it is intentional, are there any other ideas you have for this pairing?

Hi :) Well, first of all, I have to tell you how I see their relationship. I drew some doodles so that it would not be so boring to read the text from the Google translator :)

I have been interested in Innocence for a long time and have always maintained her stalker trait. It seemed funny to me to think that there was an iterator next to the Pebbles who just liked stalking him, so she noticed his problems first, but did not tell the others about it. For one reason or another. I've always seen her as a frivolous girl who just has a hobby of getting into the insides of iterators and admiring them.

Of course, he wasn't thrilled, but, you know… I always took it that FP was just someone who just accepted it, because despite this strangeness, Innocence is an iterator that was also created for entertainment, and therefore it was interesting to communicate with her. She is that childhood friend who is obsessed with the main character, but, unfortunately, she will not be his chosen one... Who knows. Then she becomes a pop star, and he works in the office. Strange friendship.

He was supposed to be her mentor so that she would turn to him for help (and not to the eternally tired Moon).

In general, I developed the idea that Luna was in a rather difficult situation due to work workload, and Pebble had to help her, so he could ignore UI at the most inopportune moment.

I think it upset her a lot, because she really didn't know how to react to some of the antics of the residents.

But because of her personality and the "Smile and Entertain" setting, she had to deal with it. But I think that made the obsession worse.

However, this led to the fact that she was stalkering FP quite a lot and this is how she learned about his rot.

Thanks to her, the rest of the iterators found out about it. Even if she wanted to keep him just for herself, she still wanted to help him. In addition, she was asked to find out about the state of FP.

In my story, Pebble stopped communicating with everyone, but not with Innocence, because she was quite persistent and he eventually gave up, besides it helped him not to be so lonely.

Well, it turned out very well for her, because she likes to watch Pebbles, even if he is in the worst situation.

I usually stick to this story, and it doesn't have to be in a romantic context. But I always saw Pebbles as the kind of character who could date someone just because they were asked, so sometimes I ship them romantically. I think this is funny mostly.

I hope I've satisfied your curiosity. These are my old ideas, and I've never really developed them to make their relationship really work.

[loviingpedri]

you belong with me

prompt: pedri x gavira!reader

warnings: cursing, google translated sentences, grammar issues, not proofread

credits to owners for images

it always has been pedri. from the day you made eye contact with him, there was no other boy. the only problem was that he was best friends with your brother, pablo gavira. pablo made it clear that you were off-limits to his friends. it fucking hurt that you couldn’t be with pedri. both of you made efforts to get over each other by seeing other people, but you still ended up in his bed when night came.

“y/n, the game is about to start.” your sister, aurora, was the only person in your family that knew. well, you didn’t want her to find out until she walked into you and pedri having a heavy makeout session.

“yeah, i’m coming.” even though you proudly wore pablo’s number 30, sometimes you wished it was number 8. pedri gave you his jersey as a gift, but you knew you couldn’t wear it. aurora kissed your cheek as you traced the lines of his name, then to the 8.

“let’s go. you won’t be making it obvious if you’re in the stands.”

-

nothing feels more special then walking into spotify camp nou. as you made your way into your seats with aurora, it was a lucky time to watch your favorite boys warm up. during the warm-ups, pedri would sneak a few winks or some kind of flirty look. today was different. he only looked at you once, and his body language was off towards you. it didn’t matter though, gavi would still be smiling at his two siblings.

the game was intense. you constantly jumped out of your seat when a goal was about to be scored. at the 79th minute, pedri scored a goal. the stadium roared with cheers. only during goals was the only time you felt that you could show off your ‘boyfriend’.

that thought was quickly shoved over when pedri pointed at a girl who looked the exact opposite of you with a smile. he made a heart with his hands followed by a wink. your heart dropped. you were no longer wanted to be in the stadium. aurora gave you an ‘oh shit’ look. it was never official that you two were a couple. although, he made it official that every goal he made was dedicated to you. even if it was a secret, god damn did it hurt. it hurt more that you couldn’t run away. it was only right you stood in place, not moving a single muscle.

after the game ended in a victory for barca, you and aurora wasted no time to leave. hell, you two ran out of there. all of the sobs were released when you were in the cry. aurora tried her best to drive home, but it was no use. she hugged you as tight as she could in your bed. you’ve cried for about an hour until gavi came home.

“hey guys, are you coming to the party?” gavi seemed so happy after the victory. it disappeared after he saw you crying. “what happened? what’s going on?” you shook your head. today was not the day he found out. he joined his siblings into the hug, even if he was confused.

“i think i’m going to miss it today. i’m not feeling good.” you managed to finally speak after crying your entire soul out.

gavi shook his head. “you should go. maybe it’ll make you feel better. having a bit of fun doesn’t hurt.” making eye contact with your sister was the worst idea. you knew she had something in mind with her smirk.

-

fully convinced to go, actually dragged to go, you managed to pull off the ‘bad bitch’ look aurora promised. it didn’t even look like you cried into your brother and sister’s shoulders for hours.

gavi was finally able to drive yall to the parties. he was mostly relieved because he didn’t have to sit in the backseat while listening to your horrible carpool karaoke. instead, he would have a distraction. after enduring the traumatic singing, partying was an easy way to ease your mind.

an introduction wasn’t needed for the team. if anything, the family was known as the gavira triplets for sticking around together. you couldn’t lie, this shit was fun. until, pedri walked in with a girl all over him. everyone seemed fine, but only the people who knew about the relationship got awkward. you got the feeling to go home, but you didn’t wanna disappoint anyone. maybe standing next to your brother was the wrong move. of course pedri would go up to him first. pedri tried to greet you with a hug, but it was quickly exchanged for a hand shake. you needed a drink after the interaction. excusing yourself, you quickly made your way to the bar.

“i’ve never seen you drink in front of the team.” pedri came up behind you.

“that’s none of your business.” you shot him a fake smile.

“why are you acting like this?” this motherfucker has got to think harder.

“i don’t know pedri, why am i acting like this?” the sarcastic tone irked him to the max.

“can we talk outside?” this was not going to go well. in the end, it was either going to be the last conversation or it was going to leave you in his bed. you couldn’t even face him outside.

“what’s going on with you? we were just fine two days ago.”

“wow pedri, you noticed how it was two days ago. well, within two days, you decided to go see someone else.”

“what the hell are you talking about y/n. we aren’t dating. we can never be together.” shit, those words hurt. the conversation was never suppose to go into a yelling spree. it felt like a screaming session.

“if you know we can’t be together, then don’t go fucking around.”

“are you serious? you gave in. this was never suppose to last this long.” you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“you were the one being a horny fuck. you fucking played me. i know we can’t be together, but that never meant i didn’t love you.” tears were forming in both of your eyes.

“well guess what, i had to get over you. i loved you too y/n.”

the emotional moment was shut down by gavi. fuck. gavi heard your last sentence, but it only angered him more when pedri admitted his feelings too.

“what?” gavi was in a form of shock. both you and pedri looked at him, both hearts dropping. the relationship was fucked up from the moment it started. you knew gavi would find out, but it wasn’t a way you wanted it to go. it was like every family member would find out in the least joyful ways. “what the fuck? you were messing around with my sister this whole time?” gavi started to walk closer, his face turning red. you tried to get him to back up, but it was unsuccessful since a punch was thrown right at pedri. you screamed in panic while aurora walked out seeing the punch. she grabbed you to go home even after your begging to stay. you never knew someone could cry so many times today. hell, you didn’t even know you could cry this much.

-

none of your siblings have seen you for days. during their work/practice hours, you would eat but other than that, you stayed locked in your room.

aurora had come home early while you were eating. you didn’t feel like abandoning her so you decided to talk to her. after catching up on some things, the big questions were starting to come up.

“how’s gavi? i didn’t really see his reaction.” your energy suddenly left your body. your appetite was lost. worry was running around you.

“gavi is okay. i knew he would calm down eventually. he said he’s not going to talk to pedri unless you worked it out with him.”

“i don’t know if i wanna talk to him. shit got so messy within 30 seconds.”

“you should. xavi made him stay home. he’s recovering his black eye.” you didn’t mean to laugh. it was only funny since he got his karma. you were about to answer until gavi walked through the door. after staring at each other for at least a minute, he finally hugged you. aurora went into her room since a private conversation was about to begin.

“Cómo estás?” he finally spoke to you. he was fidgeting with his fingers which indicated he was nervous.

“está bien. y tú?” he nodded in response. “are you hurt from the fight?” you didn’t know how to open the conversation. actually, you didn’t even know what to talk about.

he laughed at you a little. “no, pedri never hit me. he just let it happen. it was only one punch until we were pulled apart.” it was starting to get awkward. there were so many things to say, but you didn’t know what to start with at first.

“are you mad?”

“what? i mean, yes i was. at first, i’m not mad anymore. i was just worried about you. pedri keeps asking, but i didn’t even know what was happening. i think you should talk to him.”

“aurora said that too. i plan to, but i don’t know what to say.” gavi nodded at you again. he wished you good luck before walking away.

-

you were sick to your stomach on the way to pedri’s house. overthinking made your stomach turn. there was so many different outcomes. what if he didn’t even open the door. what if he doesn’t wanna talk to you. the nerves were really kicking in when you pulled into his drive way. deeps breaths. inhale and exhale.

knocking on his door with your sweaty hands was the hardest thing to do. it was the last chance to run before he even saw you. once he opened the door, you instantly knew he had been a mess. eye bags were staring right at you. him being half asleep. water still on his face from the ice pack.

“pedri.” you looked at him concerned. he pulled you into a hug before you could say anything else.

“i’m so sorry. please tell me you’re doing okay.”

“yeah, i’m okay. you look like a hot mess pedri.”

he nodded in agreement. “you see, it wouldn’t be this bad if i didn’t get punched in the face. but i deserved it.” you shared some laughs with him while he welcomed you into his home.

“so, have you talked to gavi?” gavi kept his conversation short with you. you still couldn’t read his facial expression if he approved or not.

“yeah i did. we only had one conversation. he actually said it was fine for us to be together.” this was the first time pedri had a genuine smile after days. he wasn’t sure if you still felt the same way for him, but he was happy that there was nobody stopping him from being with you. you sat on his couch in deep thoughts. pedri was scared that you might quit on him.

“we finally got our answer pedri. can you handle dating me though?” you finally spoke. pedri pulled you into another hug.

“hell yeah i can. you belong with me.”

[dykesynthezoid]

Your little post about Armand and structural dissociation has had me googling stuff since you posted it. The only non-normal dissociation I've ever experienced has been your standard DPDR, and I've never heard much about dissociative parts without the dissociative amnesia aspect separating them. So you've had me thinking.

In the books, Armand seems confused and frightened of the sadistic side of himself, talking about how he has never enjoyed violence (but clearly remembering times when he did, or something close to it). Could this be why he feels a disconnect with that aspect of himself?

Sometimes he seems like he has forgiven and moved on from his beef with Lestat, but sometimes he bring it up again, bitterly (Blood Communion). It never seemed like his disorganized attachment style fully explained that. Could that be part of this? Hell, speaking of disorganized attachment, I've read that there's a connection between that and structural dissociation.

In other words, I'd love you to rant more about this. Book and/or show Armand, both or either.

*shaking like a little overstimulated purse dog* yes yes i will speak to you of the gremlin

YES I think his disgust at his own sadism and his inability to move on from what happened w Lestat are (probably) tied to his structural dissociation IMO.

As a basic breakdown I’ll put out there that, at least in internal family systems, which is the modality I’ll be referencing, everyone has different “parts” in the sense that they have different aspects of themselves and their personality (I think you could analyze the different parts extant in Louis, Lestat, and Daniel as well!), but dissociation bc of early/ongoing trauma can cause those parts to be more separated, right, and so structural dissociation theory is a way of examining what happens when those parts are so cut off from each other that your sense of identity is rendered unstable.

In my head Armand has at least 4-5 major “parts” that exist together, and the one we see the most of is his coven leader/caretaker part (these could be considered separate but I think there’s actually little meaningful separation between them). This part, to me, is the one that’s most absorbed certain traits from Marius, Santino, and Alessandra. It’s both a manager part (seeks to construct/police/control/maintain stability) and a persecutor (actively suppresses and victimizes certain other parts).

Then there’s Amadeo, who is a child part, representing a piece of Armand’s younger psyche. Armand’s dissociation from the identity of Amadeo (refers to him in the third person) and his treatment of people who remind him of that version of himself (Daniel and Claudia) make it clear that Amadeo is also an exile; he’s a part that’s been locked away and rejected by other parts (mainly the coven leader part). Armand sees Amadeo as weak, sacrificial, doomed.

However, I think Amadeo is also in some ways a protector part. In Armand’s book, Amadeo is noticeably protective of the other boys. And given how Armand’s mind is likely structured, I think a lot of Amadeo is actually constructed around protecting Arun/Andrei. I think Amadeo basically holds the “key” to Arun and keeps the other parts from being able to access that part or his trauma; this would help explain why Arun’s memories have remained so untouchable. Amadeo won’t let anyone touch the trauma Arun is holding onto, not outside of very specific situations, and even then I think Amadeo is basically acting as a sort of translator or interpreter for Arun.

Because Arun is certainly also a child part and an exile, and he holds onto a lot of Armand’s “worst” (how can you really grade it, y’know) trauma. I think it’s likely that Arun is sort of non “verbal;” not in that he’s unable to speak, necessarily, but in that in psychology, “verbal” memory is the term used to describe memories that are specific and episodic, that are associated with images and details and concrete information. I think Arun, as a part, has had most of his memories locked away for so long (and probably also just wasn’t encoding memories very well to begin with while he was being abused) that he exists more as a series of impressions and bodily sensations than a specific set of images or events or personality traits. And because of this its very difficult for Armand to find a way to describe or narrate his experiences as Arun, even if he did have those memories, bc none of it really exists in that verbal or explicit space. It’s all, by nature, quite muddied and nonspecific and very very physical.

Now to finally begin kind of answering your question, lmao, but I think Armand’s last most prominent part is the demon/gremlin. I mentioned it a bit in that first post I made, but I think the demon/gremlin is an amalgamation of Armand’s most rejected aspects of himself, similar to a Jungian shadow. It’s everything he least wants to look at. I think it would’ve started forming in his time as Amadeo, and initially as a reaction of Amadeo having to reject certain aspects of himself, mainly his mischievousness and rebelliousness. These traits were deemed undesirable and so he had to cut them off. Then with the coven, Amadeo himself is rejected and locked away, essentially “dying” in the fire and in that cell, and he has to start relying on a different persona to survive (again). This is when his coven leader part starts forming, but I think the gremlin is also there. The gremlin takes on even more rejected aspects, like any sort of hunger or neediness. The Children of Satan are meant to deny themselves, after all.

I think it’s in the wake of Lestat that the gremlin part becomes completely exiled. Armand’s interactions with Lestat alert him to the ugliness of his own sadism, his desperation and neediness. The coven leader part can be cruel, but it’s only in effort to play out his role. The gremlin is the one who’s sadistic, who’s cruel because he’s hurting, cruel for the sake of cruelty. I think the gremlin comes to represent every bit of mischievousness, rebelliousness, neediness, desperation, mindless cruelty, lashing out, hunger, desire, and selfishness that Armand tries to push away. It’s chaos, where the other parts of Armand strive for order. It’s also the part that I think is holding onto his ability to act for his own sake.

(Plus, it explains why Armand may seem over Lestat one moment, and then completely re-absorbed in that hurt the next. It’s bc that hurt has been locked away in a part of himself he works very, very hard to keep at bay. Ofc meanwhile, the harder he tries to repress those aspects of himself, the more they start to bleed unknowingly into his consciousness in a way he can’t control, and the more they’re actually able to influence him when he’s not paying attention.)

Basically I think Armand getting to go full gremlin is a major step in his development and integration, lmao.

I think we’ve also yet to see Armand’s stable Self, the one that’s a blend of all the other parts and presented when his nervous system is at baseline; when he’s feeling secure. Mostly bc we’ve never seen Armand feeling secure or stable (in the show at least), lol. He is literally always freaking out to some degree. There’s always at least one part trying to manage the others, or, under greater stress, desperately firefighting, or, under even greater stress than that, going completely frozen and unresponsive. But I think the stable Armand is one that’s both playful and focused, active and receptive. I think it probably peeks out when he’s playing on his iPad or even when he has that conversation with Madeleine. I think the Armand putting random shit in the garbage disposal is, in fact, his secure and stable self. Which is honestly kind of hilarious.

This is very long and I honestly have even more thoughts than this but. Yeah. I love him. I also have a bunch of thoughts re:Jungian psychology about him. I think when he’s luring people into accepting death he’s actually tapping into a death drive deep in the collective unconscious. Which is why even if someone, on the level of their ego and actual personality, doesn’t want to die, he manages to find a piece even deeper and more nonpersonal, a lizard-brain sort of drive toward destruction, that does.

I really should’ve said more here about EPs (Emotional Parts) and such bc that’s more in line with the actual structural theory of dissociation and I focused more on internal family systems stuff here but! Yeah. Basically certain emotional states, body states/sensations, and even personality elements get locked away from each other (and having several of these separate parts is associated with CPTSD, OSDD, and DID, with CPTSD kind of existing as a gradation between PTSD and OSDD/DID in terms of how separate those parts have become). CPTSD is what I myself have going on and I can attest to the separate parts thing but with limited amnesia, and in my case that amnesia is just certain memories my youngest child part is probably holding onto. (I’ve made peace with never getting those memories back, tbh). My emotional parts/body memories are the ones that are most closed off from each other, and mostly the different aspects of my personality aren’t too separate and can communicate as needed, with some exceptions. So that’s the perspective I’m bringing into analyzing Armand that way.

And I’m sure it all goes without saying that this is all just my opinion and me having fun exploring Armand’s character through just one (1) potential lens. But it’s a very interesting one!

[amberjazmyn]

make you feel my love 🫶💔🥹

pairing : max verstappen x fem!reader, lando norris x fem!reader, oscar piastri x fem!reader and charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary : through the lyrics of shane filan's "make you feel my love" we see four of the f1 grid (m. verstappen, l.norris, o.piastri and c.leclerc) loving their partner through everything and anything

warnings : tears, fluff, workplace harrassment due to gender, mentions of abuse, mentions of illness and dodgy google translations

a/n : this came out of nowhere lol, please enjoy! also bold italics is lyrics, italics is like flashbacks and everything else is the regular font. remember, don't forget to reblog and comment. you can also request one-shots as well!

max verstappen:

when the rain is blowin' in your face and the whole world is on your case, i could offer you a warm embrace, to make you feel my love.

today had been the worst day in the world for you and you wish you could understand why. first off, it was raining cats and dogs outside, so loud you personally thought your work building would collapse in on itself and it utterly terrified you. and two, it seemed as though your whole office building and everyone inside of it was on your case and trying to nit-pick at every little thing you did, whether that was in regards to you doing your job properly or just breathing, someone in your office had something to say about it and it almost made you want to scream. but, you remembered you actually liked this job and didn't want to lose it all because you lost control once at a time when you were defending yourself from everyone else's ridicule and judgement. even though you were one of only five women working this specific job, you still loved it even though it was a male-dominated job. you knew that when things like this happened, when the rain was blowing in your face and the whole world was on your case that your boyfriend, max, would offer you a warm embrace, making you feel his undying love for you.

however, he still hadn't returned from the monaco grand prix so unfortunately, your boyfriend wasn't going to be home the same time you returned home from work. so, you just sucked those tears back up and pushed on through the rest of the work day, only hoping that no one else would try to test you otherwise you would start to bawl your eyes and not have the ability to stop. cause once you start, you could find it quite difficult for yourself to stop crying.

continuing your customer service job, which truthfully you didn't need due to your boyfriend's extravagent job, you still loved it. it started to eventually come to the end of your work shift when you and the two other work colleagues that were incessant on causing you to almost have a mental breakdown, because of your gender, were called in for a meeting with the boss. and you just hoped it wasn't you getting yelled at again because you couldn't deal with that. and, you somehow managed a shaky breath of relief when you saw the body language your boss had in regards to your colleagues in comparison to you.

"---sir, i'm sorry but, what on earth are we doing in here with...her?" the older work colleague of yours jeered with attitude in his voice as your boss gave him a sharp look whilst you stayed silent, looking anywhere but at your boss and the two other colleagues

"pourquoi penses-tu, todd ?" your boss matched todd's attitude in french (since they were in monaco, dutch was not the main langauge spoken) as the man stepped down as he gulped before your boss couldn't stop himself from continuing but in english why do you think, todd?

"why do you both think it's okay to constantly bother y.n when she's just peacefully doing her job like everyone else, just like she's supposed to? don't you ever get tired of being incessant bullies? don't you ever think that i can actually hear all this bullying and abuse that you're aiming at y.n? do you ever step back and think to yourself how much stress and harm you are putting on her? do you ever step back and wonder if your words actually cause harm to your fellow work colleagues or are you just so ignorant that you no longer care anymore? because that's what i think of you todd and of you as well, richard, and i wish i had found out about this earlier so i could have let you both go before it could have escalated this far. and y.n, i am so incredibly sorry that it's taken this long for me to take action because this behaviour...this genderphobic misogynistic behaviour is never and will never be tolerated in my workplace, not today, not ever! so, todd, richard, it's with my greatest pleasure that today is your final day at this job and you will be fired because how you behave towards your other work colleagues is simply not tolerable any longer. i'd like to say i wish you both the best but, i'd honestly be lying if i said that so, let's hope the next time i have to see or hear about either of you, you guys' heads will have been removed out of arses. but in saying that, i don't have high hopes for that either...grab your things the both of you and leave, i want you guys clocked out and out of the building before the end of the day..." the boss was no longer allowing this abusive behaviour and you couldn't help but feel thankful to him, it was also quite hilarious to see how todd and richard reacted

for those who wanted a mental image of the way these two grown ass adults reacted to their firing was them basically throwing fits in the way a child would if they were told no, you cannot play on the tablet (child's name) your screen time for the day has finished. as much as you wanted to laugh, you found yourself not being able to because you were just so exhausted from this long and quite frankly traumatic day that you just wanted it to be over so you could go home and cacoon yourself in blankets on the couch as you then wait for your boyfriend max to return home from the monaco grand prix. but then you remembered that you still had a job to finish and, just as you went to leave your boss's office, he stopped you.

"...oh, y.n, before i let you go, i am terribly sorry that you had to deal with todd and richard constantly on your case today and every other day. you didn't deserve it and it was completely unwarranted every single time, no if's, no buts, no nothing. i wish i had done this firing sooner because they truly don't deserve a place in my workplace if they are being disrespectful to my fellow employees just because of their gender which is something that is of course, not easily changeable. also, if you wish to, i give you full permission to clock out earlier today since i know how exhausted you are from all of their abuses you've recieved. all i ask is that if you do leave early, that i get a text message reassuring me that you've got home safely and another one when max gets home from the grand prix since i remember you telling me that he returns back tonight because i want to know that you're being taken care of properly, okay?" tears welled in your eyes as you smiled, making eye contact with your boss as you nodded your head

"thank you sir. all of this has been well appreciated and, i'll be leaving work early since i don't think i feel like i'm in the right headspace to continue so, i'll clock out early. and, i promise, as soon as i get home and then as soon as max gets home, you'll be receiving text messages from me, don't worry. again, thank you for firing todd and richard and for sticking up for me, i know everyone else has but, having you also stick up for me just makes it a little bit better..." you trailed off as your boss nodded his head and watched as you left his office, a little less of the world weighing you down as you walked out then what you had when you walked in

let's just say you were happily surprised and relieved when you came home to see your boyfriend already home with his arms open ready to comfort you whilst you just unloaded on him after sending a message letting your boss know you had got home safely and that max too was there with his arms open waiting.

lando norris:

i know you haven't made your mind up yet but i would never do you wrong. i've known it from the moment that we met, no doubt in mind where you belong.

you hated being in this position. your childhood best friend, lando norris (yes the lando norris from formula 1 was your childhood best friend) had just professed his undying and neverending love for you just hours before he was to leave for the japanese grand prix yet, you couldn't give him a yes or no answer. so, you just stood there, in the loungeroom of your childhood best friend's house, like an utter loser as you just stared at your best friend.

"...umm, i...i'm sorry what...what did you just say lando?" you managed to finally stammer out as lando let out a shaky breath, letting you know he was about to cry and you hated it - you hated being the reason that your best friend was crying

you could tell that lando didn't want to repeat himself and was about to leave so you stepped forward and grabbed his hand, "no, don't...please don't leave lando...i just, i know what you said, i heard it but i just...can i...maybe...have some time to think about my answer?" you stammered out as you held lando's hand tighter as his tears started to trickle down his cheeks as his lip trembled

"umm...yeah, sure....that...that's fine, y.n. i...i'm sorry, i shouldn't...i shouldn't have put you on the spot like that i just...i wanted to tell you before i leave for japan and i just...truthfully, i panicked and i just--"

"--hey, lando, calm down bubs. it's fine, you didn't put me on the spot, i just wasn't expecting it but, that doesn't mean i shouldn't not have expected it at all either. but, i'm still okay to think about my answer?" you reassured lando as he nodded his head to your question of still wanting to think about your answer and if it was okay

"yeah, absolutely, you can think about your answer, take as long or as little as you want. there is no timetable whatsoever, i just wanted to tell you before i left so, yeah..." lando smiled shyly, wiping away some extra tears off his cheeks as you smiled and moved closer

"...yeah, i get it lan. you didn't want to leave anything unsaid before leaving so you said it all now, it wouldn't be the first time we've done this. because, if i remember right, we had a similar if not same exact conversation when we were sixteen and seventeen right before you left for f2 and i gave you the same exact answer except, i never gave you the answer to your question but, this time, i promise i will because i think this time i'm ready to accept the truth and not be selfish anymore..." you trailed off, giving a quick kiss to lando's head leaving him confused as he turned around

"...selfish? you're never selfish, y.n..." lando whispered but you still heard it and you smiled as you opened the front door

"...i never intended to but, yes, i was this time lan. have fun during the race and i'll be there at the airport waiting for you and the grid to come home!" you smiled and left without another word as lando was still confused but didn't try to pursue anything more since he was needed at the airport within minutes

°•. ✿ .•°

lando had been having the best time in japan for the japanese grand prix. by the end of the race, whilst he didn't podium, he still got p5 and got a few points for mclaren with oscar piastri, the second mclaren driver getting p8 and also getting points for the team. but, even all that fun couldn't stop the fear of what your answer to his question was going to be when he reunites with you later tonight in london heathrow airport. he loved you dearly, you both knew this since like mentioned earlier, it wasn't the first time lando had professed his more than platonic love for you and you had rejected his advances and honestly, looking back on your sixteen-year-old self now as a twenty-three-year-old, you thought it was quite selfish as you remembered the same tearful, devastated face that little seventeen-year-old lando shared with the same but older, twenty-four-year-old lando the second time you "rejected" him. you couldn't keep on pretending that you too hadn't fallen head over heels in love with lando like he had with you because, you really had fallen in love with him. and probably first fell in love with him when you truthfully first met him when you guys were in primary school, never realising it until you were sixteen, when lando first tried to ask you out after expressing his love for you. you knew he would never do you wrong and would treat you like an absolute queen, seriously, he had seen you be mistreated since you were sixteen, after he left for europe and formula 1 and it bothered him so bad that he couldn't do anything to stop it. even after he pleaded with his dad, adam, to keep an extra close eye on you to make sure there were no physical injuries, you still refused to believe that your ex-boyfriends were abusive and bad because you didn't want to believe you were in love with your childhood best friend who you'd known since first grade in primary school.

except, now that you had the conversation a second time with lando at an older and slightly more mature age and just before you two would be apart for the best of a few months, you finally realised you couldn't be selfish anymore and you could no longer hide your true affection for lando anymore. so you didn't want to hide it anymore. as you impatiently waited at london heathrow airport with lily,  oscar piastri's girlfriend, you went back and forth in your mind of how you were going to tell lando that in fact, you too were in love with him and you wanted to be with him for as long as forever. but, just as you could think up of what you wanted to say to lando, you heard lily let out the loudest scream in the world, lily yanking on your hand as you looked up.

and all of a sudden, you couldn't stop your hand from sliding out of lily's or your legs from moving forward. bursting out into tears, you ran as fast as you could as you barely noticed the way lando's face lit up in excitement and slight anxiousness as you ran closer to him. since you were a loud crier, you basically had the entire arrivals terminal staring at you. and it wasn't just because there was a whole ass stampede of formula one teams returning home. via a normal commerical airplane and walking through a regular airport terminal in replacement of a private one right at the back of the airport. where no one else of the public would see them return home and potentially infiltrate them.

you finally got closer to lando who quickly dropped his duffle bag and opened his arms knowing you were going to jump into them. since it was something you always did from when you were younger. however, this time, it was different and he couldn't understand why until...

...you grabbed his face and kissed him in the most passionate way you had ever kissed anyone before in your entire life. lando, at first, of course was shell-shocked and understandably, mortified. but, as soon as he tasted the saltiness of the tears streaming down your cheeks on his lips, he didn't hesitate a second longer and started kissing you back. as cheers, applauses and wolf-whistles galore filled the arrival terminal at london heathrow airport as lando's team of mclaren, oscar piastri and their team principal watched on. lily holding tightly onto her own boyfriend with the biggest smile on her face. all of them happy that lando would no longer have to be devastated or fearful of his best friend not reciprocating her obvious love for him anymore.

"...i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you lando! i love you so fucking much and i am so sorry for being so selfish not telling you. i didn't really need time to think ahout my answer, i just said those things because i didn't want to allow myself to believe that i was in love with my best friend and it was so selfish of me and i cannot believe i made you cry like that and i just wish i could---"

kissing you again, lando pulled apart this time after initiating the second kiss, "---shut up will you, y.n, you really must love the sound of your voice if you're still too thick in the head to think i don't forgive you because i do forgive you. believe me, it took me way too long to pull my own head out of my arse because i also refused to believe that i was in love with my best friend as well. but, i put on my big boy pants and i told you two times, once when i was seventeen and about to leave for europe and the second time when i was twenty-four and leaving for the japanese grand prix because i didn't want to leave you without thinking i had forgotten anything. and i didn't because i told you that i was head over heels in love with you and unlike anyone else i'd ever loved before. and it broke my heart hearing you say you needed more time to think about it even though you had given me the same answer the first time and actually never gave me a response because you just couldn't face it at the time. and that's okay because this time you did and i couldn't have loved you anymore y.n. i mean...i...i've known it from the moment we met and there was no doubt in my mind where you belong and that's with me and no one else..." lando trailed off, tears welling in his eyes as you smiled as you initiated a third and one last kiss as the both of you couldn't stop laughing and crying and hugging each other

although it had taken years upon years of selfishly pretending you weren't in love with your best friend, you were glad it had taken until the japanese grand prix to kick your arse and head into gear as well as your head being removed from your arse and realise that you couldn't be selfish anymore. and you had to acknowledge that you couldn't fall in love with someone else because it was always going to be lando. and now, as you held tightly onto one another as you walked through london heathrow airport with the rest of the mclaren team and lily, you couldn't be any happier with your life now that you had lando with you forever and he was more than just your "childhood best friend".

oscar piastri:

i'd go hungry, i'd go black and blue, i'd go crawling down the avenue. no, there's nothin' that i wouldn't do, to make you feel my love

you struggled to believe it. oscar utterly refused to believe it. and he wished there was something he could have done to prevent it from happening...

"...mr piastri...did you hear what i just said?" oscar lifted his head up from staring at the carpeted floor in your, his wife's oncologist's office, with eyes that couldn't lie - your husband hadn't been listening at all to anything your oncologist had just said during the entire duration of them being in there

"ah, no i...i didn't, sorry, what were we talking about doctor marshall?" oscar gulped as he squeezed your hand tighter as you smiled with a soft and tenderness at him as doctor marshall smiled too

"don't apologise mr piastri, things like this can happen, especially because of how difficult it can be to comprehend your spouse having what can turn into a terminal illness, a lot of spouses will often pretend they didn't hear the diagnosis because they don't want to believe that their other half could be so sick..."

oh, that's why they were visiting doctor marshall. he was giving a diagnosis to you, oscar's wife, in regards to all the blood tests and other scans that you had been doing after you had been dealthly sick. and no one, not even your local gp in london, could provide you with an answer so they referred you over to doctor marshall in bristol. oscar had completely forgotten about that since he had been worrying about everything else that he couldn't even remember why he was in bristol with his wife and almost bursting out into tears in doctor marshall's office.

"...oh, umm, doctor marshall, will...is y.n able to undergo rounds of chemotherapy or any other form of can...treatment for her illness?" oscar stammered out as tears started to get him choked up as you stayed stoic and comforted your husband - you had a feeling that this doctor's appointment wouldn't be a happy and easy one to get through

"now, mr piastri, of course she is able to. we always suggest that the smartest and most logical idea, especially when we detect and diagnose the cancer early that going through treatment will give us and your wife the highest rate of surviving her cancer which is what we want. but, of course, we can't just force y.n to undergo treatment just for our own selfish needs. it has to be of her own wishes and accord because we don't know if the person suffering with the illness really wants to go through the process of the treatment and its side effects that it comes with as well as the long and constant hospital stays as an inpatient. so, if the both of you need some time to hash it out, i am absolutely fine with giving you guys a chance to chat and decide whether or not you, y.n, would like to go through with treatment or if you don't and after that, we can go from there, alright?" doctor marshall explained as you and oscar nodded your heads as you held each others hands tighter

"thanks, doctor marshall, we shouldn't take long..." you trailed off for the first time since the beginning of the appointment as you could hear your husband attempt to quieten his sobs as his body shook, his free hand covering his mouth as his eyes clamped shut tight

you knew this was breaking your husbands heart, you guys had lost your mum to cancer not too long ago just before formula 1 returned after their summer break and now, he had to go through that all over again with his wife? how on earth was that fair to oscar? it wasn't, it wasn't fair at all. however, you were determined to survive and beat your cancer for your mum who wasn't able to. you were determined to get to the end of your chemotherapy and ring that goddamn bell at the end of it all for those who never got to.

reaching over doctor marshall's desk to the tissue box, you grabbed a few and handed them to your husband as he wetly giggled, grabbing one of them and wiping his tears after pocketing the others, "...thanks babe..." he muttered as you kissed his temple softly as you continued to squeeze his hand comfortingly

"...so, doctor marshall wants us to discuss the idea of me going through treatment, so, how do you feel about me doing that?" you questioned, your head tilting to the side as oscar looked at you as though you were insane - which, in fairness, you were a little bit but, that's why oscar fell in love with you in the first place

"why are you asking me this, y.n? how do you the one who's actually going to through it, feel about it? this has nothing to do with me and everything to do with you, just like doctor marshall said. just because i may want and heavily suggest you do it, if you don't want to do it, i respect your decision and will do everything i can do to make this journey easier for you! this is not my decision to ultimately make, babe!" oscar's tears were still heard in his voice although his sobs had calmed down as you sighed and nodded your head, smiling softly

"okay. well, it wasn't a hard decision, osc. i want to go through with the chemotherapy, especially because doctor marshall said that we caught it early that i have a higher chance of surviving. i...i want to ring that bell at the end of chemo because mummy never got to ring that bell and i want to do that. i can't bare the thought of you losing another person you love with your entire beating heart to cancer because that's just unfair. especially when you had no idea that she was living with it until her death. so, it's best i start now when it's still early in the cancer to do so..." you trailed off, your heart breaking as your husband's sobs returned at the mention of your mum, his mother-in-law's death to cancer alongside the possibility of his own wife losing her cancer battle as well

"...i can't either, y.n. i can't lose you either! i barely survived losing your mum, i can't lose you too! i don't want to!" oscar sobbed as he folded in on himself, his pain immeasurable as you reached over the chair's arm and hugged your husband as tightly as you possibly could as he wept

"you won't lose me baby! i'm going to get through this cancer, i'm gonna ring that bloody bell and then we're going to rest and then after that, we're gonna have as many kids as we possibly can and we're gonna live happily ever after, i promise..."

°•. ✿ .•°

...psh, yeah, happily ever after my arse! once again, almost like a coda to the day you were diagnosed with cancer, you were stoic and unemotional whilst oscar, your husband was almost weepy at doctor marshall's check-up with you at the cancer hospital in downtown bristol. for some context, not too long after that doctor's appointment where you were first officially diagnosed, within a month, you were admitted to bristol's cancer hospital as an in-patient so you could start your cancer treatment basically straight away to give you the best chance of survival and eliminating the cancer all together. whilst oscar had to sadly return back to formula 1 and the grand prixs, making sure that he'd return straight back to bristol when given permission to do so by his team principal at mclaren. 

however, this is where the "pssh, yeah, happily ever after my arse!" comes from because, just this last couple weeks, you'd been blindsided with a dangerous infection in your bloodstream which nearly rendered you into a coma if the nurses hadn't noticed in time. and, even though, like your cancer, the nurses caught the infection early, it still didn't stop you from being in dangerous waters. so, you had to constantly fight every single day by forcing yourself to keep your eyes open, to eat, to drink and to walk around the upper cancer unit for ten minutes a day before returning back to your hospital room so you could then spend a couple of hours with oscar and someone else that he'd invite to come with him. the "someone else" was usually his mclaren teammate lando norris or your childhood friend's charles leclerc from ferrari and red bull's max verstappen. but today, it was all three of them because your oncology team had a terrible gut feeling and whilst they wished it to be a false alarm, they wanted to make sure oscar had enough people around him to comfort him if their gut feeling was to follow through and come true. thank god there was a three week break between the grand prix that just occured and the next one coming up because there was no way that all four f1 drivers would get away with missing a grand prix as unfortunate as it sounds. 

oscar was currently sitting uncomfortably, with his legs crossed like when you were kids at primary school sitting on the floor, his right elbow resting on the arm of the chair and his left arm stretching over to hold yours as you rested, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, your chest ever so slightly rising and falling tucked away under the sheets of your hospital bed. tears were constantly threatening to dribble down his cheeks as he constantly willed them away as he breathed shakily in and out, his hand occasionally coming up from the chair arm and covering his mouth for the times he couldn't help a sob and it's escape. and standing all around the rest of the room were his three teammates, lando, charles and max and they were helpless in knowing how to console their castmate. none of them had gone through the loss of someone they love due to cancer and now the possibility of the same thing was happening to his wife. although you were currently unconscious but breathing, you just knew that oscar wished it was him in the hospital bed with cancer and this mysterious yet dangerous blood infection. it was completely obvious because oscar had been that way ever since you two started dating and even before that when you two were just best friends.

i mean, this man, this lunatic of a man who was crazy in love with you would go hungry for you. he'd go black and blue for you. he'd go crawling down the avenue for you. there was absolutely nothing this looney toon wouldn't do for you because if it showed you how much he loved you, he'd do it. he'd even switch places with you, have himself go through this cancer, the treatment and this awful, stressful, heartbreaking, scary blood infection if it meant that you were okay and not worried every single day about whether or not you were actually going to end up ringing that bell at the end of your chemotherapy.

and, suddenly, out of pure fight that you still had left in you, you opened your eyes more determined then ever whilst oscar cried the same way he did when his best friend took his last breath with lando providing him with some comfort as he kind of rested on top of him, his arms around oscar's waist which moved each sob which made lando move slightly. charles and max not too far behind when charles' eyes widened, his teary eyes, since oscar wasn't the only one in a grief-like state, spoke up in a whisper.

"...osc...y.n's woken up..." charles whispered and as oscar and lando both heard that sentence, their heads shot up and more tears poured down oscar's face as he touched your face, lando's arms letting go of his hold on oscar

"...oh, baby! are you okay? are you hurt? what hurts? do i need to get the nurse what's--"

"--calm down babe, breathe. yes, i'm okay darling. i'm not hurt, i'm just a little numb and stiff due to the way i've been lying down. and yes, getting the nurse would be a great idea, and i think you should do it because you've been holed up in this room longer than anyone else has. lando, charles and max will take immense care of me for the five or so minutes you step out of this room to grab the nurse so don't have a freak out, alright love? i'm still here, i haven't left and i won't leave...now go, get the nurse and doctor marshall," you may have just woken up but that didn't mean you were tired or exhausted because you weren't, truthfully, you felt more alive than you'd ever felt before

agreeing and too tired to think about arguing, oscar nodded his head and unlatched his grip from yours and left the hospital room to fetch the nurse and doctor marshall, "okay, i'll be back love. have some water, you must be thirsty, lando'll help you if you need it," oscar smiled softly with a tender kiss to your temple as you smiled as you watched him walk out, wiping away his wet cheeks and to the left to the reception desk so they could page for the nurse and doctor marshall

let's just say, from how calm and smiley both the nurse and doctor marshall were, it seemed as though their gut feeling was wrong and the blood infection had been caught early and it looked as though you were going to make an amazing recovery. from not just the infection but also from the cancer and that was why the rest of bristol's cancer hospital could hear cheers, screams and just outright excitement coming out of room 4580.

charles leclerc:

when the evening shadows and the stars appear, and there is no one there to dry your tears, i could hold you for a million years, to make you feel my love.

you couldn't stay strong anymore so you didn't. you had returned home from the sinagpore grand prix to monte-carlo, monaco early to hold a vigil back in your childhood home for your father who was dying due to respiratory distress and it had just been confirmed that your father had died. you didn't want to believe it, i mean, what twenty-four-year-old wanted to believe that their father has just died after months and months of being bedridden after being diagnosed with respiratory distress? the doctors promised you, promised your whole family that with some sort of miracle drug that was very new but already so revoulationary and able to cure the disease that you were beside yourself that their promise fell on deaf hands and deaf ears. how dare they lie to you and your family? how dare they provide you with such comfort and solace that your dad was going to survive only for him to die months later in his bed in the very home you had every single childhood memory up until age twelve when you moved to montmatre, france to monte-carlo, monaco after your parents civily split up. and right now, you just cried. your body fell forward as a loud and guttural sob that sounded as though it was from an animal that was dying fell from your mouth as your knees hit the ground, your arms falling onto your father's bed on which he laid on in his final moments.

it was in that moment that the rest of your siblings, mum and doctor left the master bedroom as you continued to weep, wishing only for the dark to become light again, wishing for your father to open his eyes and just say he was joking even though he knew that would be a too crude joke to play on his ever-loving family who had never done a thing wrong to deserve that type of tasteless joke. your mum, whilst devastated over the loss of her ex-husband, knew you'd be the most devastated about this and was thankful, praising god that she remembered that charles leclerc, your boyfriend and f1 driver had been granted early leave from the singapore grand prix. it was well known within ferrari that your dad's health had been declining so, lovingly, they allowed the smart decision for charles to have permission to leave any time he got the phone call from your mum or anyone in the family about the death of your dad. the only one who could provide comfort for her was charles. 

due to your wailing and complete ignorance to the world around you, you hadn't noticed the gentle touch of your gorgeously talented but ever so empathetic and sweetheart of a boyfriend, charles. however, because you could feel the slight change in the air, you could tell without lifting your head up off of your father's bed and current resting place that someone was next to you. it wasn't until you heard his soft voice that you knew instantly by the way of his accent, the french effortlessly slipping from his mouth and how it was obvious he too had spent time crying himself, that it was your boyfriend next to you and not a family member who just carelessly decided to check in on you just for the sake of it.

"...y.n, bébé, tu peux te reposer maintenant..." charles' soft voice, that sounded like he too had been crying after recieving the phone call from your mother sounded from beside you as you finally lifted your head up from the warm blankets and sheets of your father's bed y.n, baby, you can rest now

"...charles... qu'est-ce que... qu'est-ce que tu fais ici ? tu es censé être toujours à singapour pour le grand prix..." you trailed off, your voice croaky and hoarse from all the wailing you had been doing for what felt like eternity at this stage charles...what...what are you doing here? you're supposed to still be in singapore for the grand prix

"...tu es plus important, y.n. ta mère m'a appelé, elle m'a raconté ce qui s'était passé..." charles' voice stopped as he got all choked up as tears welled in his eyes as you struggled to hold yourself together again you are more important, y.n. your mum called me, she told me what had happened

"...il...mon père est mort charles...il...il ne reviendra pas...il...il ne se réveillera plus jamais..." you sobbed as you fell, instead of collapsing forward onto the bed, you fell sideward onto charles who caught you and held you as more sobs jolted your tired body he...my dad's dead charles...he...he isn't coming back...he...he's never going to wake up again

"...je sais chérie et je suis vraiment désolée. j'aimerais pouvoir dire n'importe quoi qui pourrait soulager cette douleur mais je sais que rien ne peut faire ça!" charles whispered as he held you, rocking the both of you back and forth as tears streamed down the both of your faces whilst your dad's lifeless body laid in rest on the top of the bed that you were still hunched over i know darling and i am so sorry. i wish i could say anything that could ease this hurt but i know nothing can do that!

the evening started to shadow the master bedroom of your childhood home and you could see the light of the stars started to appear, there was an obvious brighter star that shone the brightest out of all of them. it was clear that that star was none other than your dad reassuring you and the rest of the family alongside charles' own dad and godfather jules that he was safe and that he'd always be there to shine bright every single night. last time your family went through a bereavement, you and charles were only best friends and he was in italy and you were in monte-carlo which meant that he wasn't just a quick drive away to wipe away all your tears over the loss of your grandpapa when you were a mere twelve-year-old returning back to monte-carlo in the same way twenty-four-year-old you had returned to monte-carlo to stand vigil at your now-dead father's bedside. it was a weird sense of deja vu or like a coda in a movie or song but, this time you were just grateful that you had charles here with you to comfort you and to dry your tears, to hold you for a million years.

"...charles...je t'aime tellement..." you whispered, your eyes only just staying open since it was now midnight and you and charles were still sitting vigil in your father's bedroom hours after his death date had been called charles...i love you so much

"...je t'aime aussi bébé... je pense qu'il est temps de se reposer et d'aller dormir ? qu'en penses-tu?" charles whispered as you couldn't help but agree, although you wanted to stay in this room with your father for the rest of eternity, you knew you couldn't do that i love you too baby...i think it's time we get some rest and go to sleep? what do you think?

"ouais, je ne pense pas que papa voudrait qu'on pleure à son chevet pour le reste de notre vie. je pense que s'il avait la capacité de devenir un fantôme, il nous reprocherait certainement de pleurer sur lui *tearful giggles*. en plus, je suis épuisé et il est presque minuit trente minutes et je suis sûr que tu es incroyablement fatigué par le long vol alors il est temps d'aller au lit..." you trailed off with a broken smile, standing up off the floor from your kneeling grief position and held out your hand for charles to grab it yeah, i don't think dad would want us crying at his bedside for the rest of our lives. i think if he had the ability to become a ghost, he'd definitely tell us off for crying over him. besides, i'm exhausted and it's nearly thirty minutes after midnight and i'm sure you are incredibly tired from the long flight so, it's time for bed

and he did, with an identical broken smile, he grabbed your hand and stood up as well as you guys walked out of your father's bedroom, not forgetting to quietly close it behind you cause, even in death, it would be rude to loudly close your father's door when he's trying to sleep.

fin

why do i make only a couple of them so sad? i don't know but anyway, i enjoyed rewriting this into a new version and i hope you guys enjoy reading it. also, funny that the only real translating i used was for charles' one-shot since there was no way i was going to translate the entirety of max's one-shot lol. anyway, i hope you guys enjoyed this. 

©⠀amberjazmyn's original work. do not translate or steal any of my fics. 2024

[mcmuerteflurry]

Lobo/muerte/death handlers HC-GN victim reader- muerte speech

!CW: suggestive and possible NSFW and google translate!

Whistling will be one of the most common sounds you’ll hear in a daily basis

You have to either be the most interesting being in existence or a Cupid must’ve used their most powerful arrow and ran out along the way

Perhaps one of, if not, the most dangerous in the Shrek universe

Would commonly call the victim conejito (bunny in Spanish) in a mocking tone

Running only motivates him to chase

An example you tried escaping him

“He will cling on to you like a demon in love with a religious woman”

Possibly going to any religious professional or spiritual professional such as a shaman or a fortune teller would all have their thoughts and astral minds clouded on your situation

It is merely impossible to escape the images of muerte wether it’s paintings, cards, cups or even posters the victim will see him everywhere

No tailsman or any religious or protective relics can save you from the personification of fear and death

The victim should get use to being in a continuous state of fear

The first time the victim hears those answers they’re at the state of confusion or laughter either way it doesn’t end right

Victim’s first time hearing the whistle placed them in the state of panic attacks or even anxiety attacks for their words are true

“Do not indulge with him for his appearance is most appealing”

“Mi amor engulf yourself in my aura for there would be eternal safety” he would announce with open arms that he has completely not recited for hours before introducing himself

“Do not feed to the delusion of his for it will consume you”

“I am indeed your one true love”

Mirrors are the reader’s worst enemy because muerte can watch them via the mirrors (like how some Jinns and demons can watch through the mirrors)

Tú pensamiento pobre conejito

Think someone can help nope! Not even witchcraft or a guillotine would get that wolf’s tongue out of your ass for as long as you cease to exist

Would destroy any form of communication with others because he believes “he knows better, he’s been on this planet since the beginning of time and knows every scenario by the”

He would hold the victim in his arms as a “protection” mechanism to make the victim feel safe in his delusions

“Mi amor, mi conejito I know what’s best for you, you don’t even have to repay me like those friends of yours just stay in my arms is all I’m asking for”

Any time you deny his assistance he would always find a way to get you to lean to him

Would purposely cause casualties to make sure you’re entirely dependent on them

“Mi conejito… I always knew they didn’t care for you only I care for you in the highest of levels because I am the only true love for you”

His sickles tallies the amount of family he has killed and is craving for many more to envelope their victim into isolation

I HC that he can interact with animals like how in some demonology books some demons can interact with someone via animals or revive and give messages

He says as the animal souls gave him the signal that your friend’s and family soul has reached the river to the ferrymen

Animal souls become a common visitor wether it is a message with gifts or regular message

You haven’t touched your drink you okay mate

The victim is either avoiding some pubs or finding hidden ones

The victim attempted to stand up and walk away but was soon stopped by a pair of arms gripping the side of their waist

Muerte’s breathe brushes against the victim’s ears

“mi conejita donde pensaste que podías correr” (my bunny did you think you could run)

Muerte would coo nothing less than sweet things whilst their hand explore the victim’s body

The victim’s breathe hitch as they try to stabilise themselves causing the bartender to question them in concern

“No one can see us so why don’t we continue this somewhere”

I don’t want to do this to you but you need to learn

If the victim managed to run that’s a miracle but disguised as a curse (Some NSFW)

Scenario A

The victim’s back has been slammed to the wall of an alleyway late at night during a festival

The victim’s hands above their head and Muerte’ touches teasing the victim under their cloak

The area getting steamy with huffing and yelps

Scenario B

The victim cannot find a proper disguise thus steals the poncho/cloak to hide in the crowd

The victim finally arrived to the back of a building to rest their breathing with their palms on the walls to avoid showing their face

“mi conejo, no puedes esconderte de mí, estoy tan en tu mente como en el área en la que resides” My rabbit, you can't hide from me, I'm as much in your mind as I am in the area in which you reside.

Was the last thing the victim heard before a leg was lifted and muffled moans escaped

“You look adorable in my poncho/cloak we should continue doing this for our ‘little sessions’ hm?”

Conclusion

“All I want from you is to act obedient and submissive under my rule is that too much to ask” he complains

He would throw the victim onto his back and walk back to an area where you cannot run nor hide