#pierre x original character

[baewritez]

Just A Little Touch Up (0)

( Aaron Pierre X Plus Size OC )

Summary : The black and white life of a makeup artist is given color by A-List Client

Tags : Work Place Romance , Age Gap , Plus Size OC , BDSM , 18 +

 How does one find themselves bent over a kitchen counter with their hands tied behind their back? Better yet how does one find themselves pent under one of the most beautiful men to grace my eyes?! But that is it; that is what holds the answer. If you were to ask how I ended up in this position, I would say it was an exchange of looks, eyes full of desires, wants, needs so pure like honey that you could almost taste its sweetness. His eyes, like crashing waves held me captive fixed in place while a smirk started to spread on his face. I want to be the next thing spread across those juicy pump lips, as if thunder rolled out his lips so confidently, he said “So do you know how long we are in hair and makeup for?” his voice piercing the darkest part of my desires leaving with a newfound longing.  

Strumming over my words “t-t-t-two hours I think” warm air filled the trailer blowing past him as he walked up the stairs closing the door as he stepped in. His cologne of warm nutmeg and patchouli oil filled the air as I fought the urge to take a deep breath. “Thanks, my assistant and manager won’t be on set til 9:00am so it’s just me and you.” Looking up at him I felt like a dwarf, and he was a skyscraper as he moved closer towards me. “Um that is okay I think I can be finished with your makeup before then. You can sit here.” I gestured with my hand to the black makeup chair in front of me. He held out his large hand towards me. “I am Aaron” I looked at the veins near his knuckles; my mouth started to water as I tried to swallow my thirst down. The image of his big hands grabbing my curly puff and pulling flashed in my mind. SLAPPING my hand down I took a step a back and smiled. My heartbeat was like an alarm in my ear at just the idea of being close to him set it into a frenzy. “Would you like a water or coffee?”  His hand slowly went back down to his side as confusion blossomed on his face, but he gently brushed off the interaction and exchange. As he started to get settled into the seat his bulky frame filled the space around me as I instinctively grabbed the counter behind me. A look of concern washed over his face as his handsome facial features scrunched up. Holding up both of his hands the white shirt and black leather jacket raised up to show his chiseled deep v leading to what I could only think was euphoria “I don’t bite, Love” his husky voice breaking the awkward silence. But all I wanted was for him to leave bite marks and hickeys where no one could see and even in places where they could be seen. I wanted him to show the world that I was his; but that was a fantasy. “So, water, right?” My voice trembled, as I started to break my gaze from his charcoal jeans as it now covered the valley of ecstasy. Slowly tracing up past his white v neck t-shirt into his hazelnut brown and storm cloud eyes taking in his clear and blemish free skin. “Water is perfect, Love.” he replies. Aaron moves his arm to rest of the side arm of the chair and he places his hand on chin and rests it on his full amber beard. Taking a deep breathe I turned to face the counter and mirror; I bent down opening the mini fridge to grab a cool bottle of water as a shiver ran down my spine. Coming up from the fridge I am stopped in my tracks as I glance into the mirror only to be frozen in time as Aaron’s eyes created a fire in his wake. I am the match, and he was setting me ablaze his eyes moving from legs to my ass gliding up like a feather. My palms start to form sweat beads became clammy. It’s as if I was rubbed up against a balloon the hair on my neck and arm stands small shocks pulse throughout my body. The sound of our heavy breathing and the humming of the ac unit filled my ears. He was my Hades making me his Persephone as his bottom lip is captured by his teeth. My mouth is left open the idea of his thick finger filling that emptiness sends another shiver down my spine and my body goes relax. The thud of the bottle snaps both of us out of drunken stupor.

** A/N : I hope i didn't keep you waiting too long. If you like the preview let me know. Welcome to BaeWritez where desire can be fulfilled. - XOXO BAE

[grlsbstshot]

NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters): Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion)

Story Synopsis: 

R&B singer/songwriter, Jameson Lucas, is well known as a charming playboy. The latest in his line of ‘loved em and left em’ behavior? Imani St. Cirie, an emotive singer/songwriter herself. As common sense pulls them in opposite directions – friendships are tested, old flames resurface, and new opportunities threaten to tear them apart for good. In this industry, dreams can make or break you – but what happens when love becomes the gamble of a lifetime? Chapter I // Chapter II // Special Edition // Chapter III // Special Edition Pt. 2

Chapter Synopsis: Jameson flies to Italy to repair his relationship with Imani, while Genie gets closer to Ellington.

Warnings: smut (18+), toxic relationship, possessiveness, profanity, usage of the n-word (if you’re white and read it, you owe us $20), rough sex, p in v (naturally), oral (female receiving), squirting, creampie, aftercare – if we missed anything, let us know!

Word Count: 5.5k // Divider Template: @cafekitsune

Notes: The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

There will be alternating POVs between our leads.

CHAPTER IV: Insane / Wasted

she couldn't help but look at the images again. jameson had the kind of smile that lit up his whole face -- that was when he was truly happy. and he was smiling hard as fuck in the pictures. her eyes flitted to sloane's form, the hand against jameson's arm and the way it curved around his waist. she would never admit it to another soul...but they looked nice together. there was no love lost between she and sloane but imani didn't hate her until this exact moment.

"stop looking." genie told her and immediately immediately shoved her phone under the pillow.

"i wasn't." she lied. "fuck jameson and that bitch."

it had been genie who told her about the pictures -- warning her before she did something stupid like text jameson and tell him that she missed him. it was small but she was grateful that her best friend hadn't tried to talk her into anything. she listened to her rant, agreed not to answer the phone for jameson, and immediately set about distracting her.

despite being in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, her mind had nothing but images of jameson. she'd had a spark of hope in her heart that they would possibly figure shit out this time around but it was so damn hard expecting him to do the right thing. listening to his excuses and reasons why it was everyone else's fault but his got exhausting and imani didn't want to hear that shit. she focused on the outfits that she and genie were pulling together for her italian promo tour.

jameson had even gone silent for damn near a day. no calls, no texts. even that pissed her the fuck off. almost as if the thought of him summoned the man, imani felt the phone under her pillow began to vibrate. somehow or another, she knew it was him. she and genie both knew and they ignored the vibrating echoing throughout the room.

a minute passed then genie's phone rang out loud, her gaze darted to imani's before she cleared her throat. "don't answer him, genie." imani said sternly, sitting up in bed. sure enough, she watched as genie swiped her finger across the screen and the phone went silent. for a minute or two, there was total silence between them...before the phone in the suite began to ring.

it felt like a scene out of a horror movie. he just wouldn't leave her alone and imani had had enough. she climbed from the bed and stomped her way through the suite. by the time she made it to the phone, she was practically breathing fire. "hello?!" she answered tersely, ready to curse jameson's ass out but she was greeted with the sound of a friendly front desk clerk.

"buonasera, signorina. i am most sorry to trouble you this evening but i am afraid we have a situation." the voice said, the english heavily accented with italian.

"oh. oh, i'm sorry." imani immediately apologized, guilt pushing her to say more but she was cut off.

"my manager would like to call la polizia but the signore asked for you personally and i thought we should be sure before we did so." the voice continued -- a woman from what imani could tell.

"i don't understand what you saying. call the police? for what?" confusion was written all over her face as imani brought her gaze up from the phone. genie came flying down the hall, phone against her ear and imani got distracted by her. she caught the words "you make my ass hurt!" from genie before the other girl was stomping past her and towards the front door.

"signorina?" "i'm sorry. what did you say?" "signore lucas says that you are expecting him but he cannot remember your room number. if he is inconveniencing you, we will have no problem calling la polizia." "call the cops on signore lucas. do what y’all need to do. i don’t care. thank you!”

imani hung the phone up, hands on her hip as she walked around the empty space. she had no idea where genie had gone but it was probably to save jameson from an italian jail. “that dumb ass nigga really flew his ass to rome.” she muttered to herself. washing her hands of jameson always seemed so complicated but as she decided to take a bath, it felt pretty damn easy.

the only reason genie answered the phone was because imani left the room. it was a betrayal of her best friend, sure, but she wanted to hear an explanation from jameson. probably more than imani did. there was love lost between she and sloane. jameson was practically her brother and she wanted to know what the fuck he was doing with the enemy -- even if he didn't know she was the enemy.

"imani doesn't want to--" "what floor?" "huh?" "what. floor. are. you. on?" jameson asked. "jamie, tell me you didn't come here." "you not gone tell me?" "no!" "okay. that's fine."

he went quiet for a moment before genie heard a knock on the other end of the phone. she heard him introduce himself to a stranger and then ask "is imani in there? she gasped out loud. "jameson, stop that! stop it! you're going to get in trouble."

he didn't say a word to her and she heard him continue to move from one door to the next, asking anybody who opened it the very same question: "is imani in there?"

"stop it!" "are you going to tell me?" "what floor are you on? i'll come get you, damn it." "fifth. i know she likes a view." "oh now you're interested in what she likes?" "i lost her once, genie. i'm not about to lose her again. especially over some shit that's a misunderstanding." "so you weren't on a date with sloane?" "of course not. c'mon. you know sloane! you know she--" "i do. i know her better than you do, jamie. it hurt imani to see those pictures. you weren't doing anything but you have to understand...she's in a very difficult situation with you. she wants to believe you but she's scared. and you don't make the shit any easier." "that's not what i'm trying to do. i--"

"excuse me, sir? are you a guest here?"

genie knew that was no good. she jumped up from her seat, moving through the suite. imani may not want to see him but something had to give before he caused a damn international incident. genie hustled past imani, not even realizing she was still on the phone or what the conversation was. her slippers practically hissed against the floor as she left the suite, took the elevator to the fifth floor, and got there just in time to see security grasping jameson's jacket. a concierge was with them and he seemed flustered by the situation.

jameson's phone was still at his ear but he wasn't talking to genie -- he was cursing. "you need to let my fucking jacket go. wrinkling my shit." he and imani were two peas in a damn pod. "i'm sorry. he's with me." genie did her best not to shout, getting a grasp of jameson's jacket herself. she pulled him in her direction, pleased to see that he stumbled toward her somewhat.

"we've had many complaints, signora." genie nodded her head, yanking jameson in her direction once again. security didn't let go and he didn't stumble this time. instead, jameson pulled his jacket from the other man's hand with the meanest mug on his face. genie knew he was about to say something stupid so she pinched his side before he could. "i understand." genie reassured the two men. "but he's with me. he's my brother. he's just...stupid."

the concierge and security guard glanced at each other -- almost as if they were trying to see if she was right about him. genie prayed jameson would stay quiet. she could feel his stare on the side of her face but kept her gaze on the guard. relief hit her hard with they nodded, a signal that she and jameson could leave. "thank you! thank you so much." genie said graciously, giving both men a smile. jameson let her lead him to the elevators -- her jacket still in his grasp until she pushed the button for the third floor.

finally, genie turned and met his gaze as the elevator doors closed. "hey, stupid."

the past twenty hours had been bullshit. that was the best way to sum it up: bullshit. he was sleep deprived, anxious, and annoyed as fuck but it was finally time to get this shit with imani settled. genie reluctantly lead him to their suite. when she swiped the keycard and pushed the door open, jameson didn't waste time stepping inside.

"hey." jameson turned to see that genie didn't follow him inside. "please get it right this time. i love you both. but i won't forgive you if you break her heart again." before jameson could reassure her, she shut the door and he was left alone with her words.

the suite was quiet, almost eerily so. maybe it was exhaustion settling in his bones but jameson was so damn tired of this shit. he was determined to get shit straight right then. jameson shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it across the back of a couch as he slowly made his way through the space.

his mouth opened to to call out for her but the way she was feeling meant that she might not answer. it wasn't until jameson heard water that he realized she was in the bathroom. he took a deep breath -- and then twisted the knob, surprised that it was unlocked. the further he moved into the room, the hotter it got.

then...there she was. soaking in warm water, covered in bubbles. her head rested against the rim of the tub. she turned her head, opened her eyes, and gave a little scream when she saw him standing there. for a moment, they simply stared at one another. her gaze swept his face, moving up to his hair -- or lack there of. he watched her eyes go wide before she pressed her lips together.

his gaze swept what he could see. her hair pulled up into a messy knot on top of her head. her hands and shoulders were clear of soapy bubbles but everything else was hidden. a wave of desire swept over him but jameson pushed it down -- ignored it and continued to move into the bathroom.

finally, they both found their voices at the exact same time.

"get out!" "i missed you."

imani blinked up at him before he saw the anger take over again. she opened her mouth to say something else but jameson spoke faster. "you got me on a plane halfway around the world, jetlagged as fucked. go ahead and yell. once you get it all out, we can talk about it." jameson took a seat on the floor next to the tub, leaning against the wall.

"i ain't got shit to say to you." "no? you don't want to call me a lying ass, cheating ass nigga? piece of shit? nothing?" "i don't expect you to do right. you never do." "i'm doing right now, imani. nothing happened with her." "i don't give a fuck." "yes you do. you love the fuck out of me. and i love the fuck out of you." "you--" "which is why...i would never fuck up like that again. i was in new york for an interview. sloane called. asked me to come by while she was working some deal. i did. we were there for all of ten minutes. i did nothing but talk about you. then we had lunch. then i left her at her hotel." "i don't care." "you do." "you can't tell me what the fuck i feel." "i can. because i know you."

her frustration built as he calmly refuted each retort. jameson could see it in her face. she was mad as fuck. she sat up straight, pressing her hands to the side of the tub and to get up and he stopped her by placing his hand on top of hers. "don't. finish your bath."

imani glared at him and pulled her hand away -- the movement was slow but full of resentment. it didn't matter that he had flown around the world with nothing in his hands. what mattered was that she was scared. she was angry. and it was his fault. for once, he was at a loss as to what to say to imani. she rose from the water anyway, stepping out of the tub and ignoring him as she wrapped herself in a robe.

jameson watched her silently before taking a deep breath. he got up from the floor and followed her out of the bathroom -- ready for round two.

"good...evening. it is evening in italy, right? the sun is still shining here."

ej answered the phone with a grin, pleased to hear from genie so soon even though he knew why she was calling. it was the first time he'd heard her voice over the phone and it made him smile to know that genie adesanya had called him.

"you tricked me." she said shortly, making him smile.

"no idea what you're talking about, baby. but since you called me -- i take it jamie made it safely." "this isn't about jamie! and stop calling me baby." "yes, ms. adesanya. if this isn't about jamie, what is it about?" "you! you tricked me. you made me tell you what hotel we were at." "jamie already knew! he told me." "liar. he didn't even know what floor we were on. he knocked on random people's doors asking for imani!"

she sounded as if she were pouting and the image of her doing so made ej grin. his best friend's shenanigans were only the cherry on top of the sundae. ej muted the phone, not wanting her to hear him laugh. the last thing he wanted was a lecture.

"okay. fine. i admit it. i tricked you. but i told you...that's my boy." "he almost ended up in an italian jail." "it's nothing. i got money. i coulda got my nigga out." "you're no help. you encourage his worse tendencies." "listen, i don't want him over there. i want him here. finishing his album. but he's stuck on mani. obsessed with the idea of getting it right with her. do i think it's possible? no. i think those two are too alike. something's gonna go wrong. but he's my best friend and i want to support him."

genie was silent for a moment before he heard her softly ask a question. "...you don't think they'll make it?"

ej winced, wishing he hadn't told her that. he didn't want to rain on her optimism. he liked how she seemed to see the best in everything and everybody. "i don't know, g. i hope so but i won't hold my breath over it."

"i think you're wrong." she said, her voice stronger than it had been before. "i think when you love like that -- truly and deeply -- there's nothing you wouldn't do to make it last. i believe him. he wants her back. and he's going to get her because she loves him too."

ej nodded even though she couldn't see him. "i want you to be right, baby." ej heard her snort before she spoke again. "i told you not to call me baby."

a grin spread across his lips as he nodded once again. "yes, ms. adesanya. now where are you? did our best friends kick you out of your room?"

she was flustered and annoyed with him but mostly with herself. having a reaction to jameson was never good. she tried so hard not to show him even a smidgen of feelings and failed every single time. fuck him! this was irritating. imani hadn't expected jameson to be in Italy, much less have the balls to come to her room. she came out of the bathroom looking for the genie and found the other woman gone. she couldn't help but feel somewhat betrayed.

"mani."

jameson followed behind her and imani redirected from the bedroom to the living room. the last thing they needed was to be in a room with a bed while she was naked. "i don't want to hear it, jamie." she said, suddenly exhausted. "we keep trying to make this work but maybe this isn't meant to be."

all they seemed to do was talk in circles, gas each other up, and then boom. reality came crashing down into their optimistic plans. she wasn't going to compete with a woman for jamie again. sloane could have him if she wanted him that damn bad.

"it's like you're not listening to me." jameson replied and imani realized it was true. she didn't want to hear it. she didn't want him to get her hopes up again. "i'm gonna make this shit work because all i've ever wanted is you. i got stupid and let my ego take over before. then i lost you. and i swear the past year has been so hard. i get my life from you, mani. this is where i want to be. don't shut me out. let me prove it."

she stood with her arms folded, glaring at him as he spoke. part of her melted -- just like she had before. she wanted him to fight for her. to prove that what she saw in him before their breakup had been real. but another part of her was sick of the rollercoaster. she wanted to get off it, would kill to be able to feel nothing when she saw him. there was so much she wanted to say but also nothing she could say at the same time.

"it can't be this easy all the time, jamie." she said softly, annoyed at the fact that he seemed to be able to unlock something in her. "you can't give me some bum ass speech every time and think everything is going to be okay because you love me. love isn't always enough and i'm tired of hearing it from you."

jameson moved closer to her, lifting his hands to show her that he was harmless -- as if that were fucking true. "i understand. so tell me. tell me what you need from me. what you need me to show you, baby? i'll do it. anything."

imani looked at him with distrust and confusion. he didn't touch her, he just...stood there with her. his hands were still up, making him appear as if he was trying to calm a scared, wounded animal. "put your hands down." she told him -- and was surprised by how quickly he did it. he didn't argue, he didn't make a joke. he just...did what she told him to. that was interesting. "tell me you're sorry. you said everything except that."

jameson's gaze softened as he nodded his head, realizing that he hadn't apologized for the misunderstanding or invading her privacy. "i'm sorry, baby. i'm so sorry. i shouldn't be here. i should have waited for you to come home. i should have been more considerate about how those pictures would make you feel. i'm sorry."

despite telling him that speeches wouldn't be enough -- imani knew she would relent. she didn't know if she was overreacting or not when it came to sloane. but even if she was...it felt good to hear him validate it. to tell her he was sorry for how he made her feel. instead of thanking him, imani let her gaze linger over his face. "you cut your hair."

jameson looked at her with surprise -- as if he hadn't expected her to acknowledge it right then. "yeah. i did."

"why?" imani asked him, fiddling with the tie that kept her robe closed tightly.

"i'm doing a movie. why do you ask? you like it?" "i guess. makes your ears look bigger." jameson laughed out loud, tsking softly. "okay, i deserved that."

imani gave a small smile, proud of herself for that the joke landed. she hadn't fully forgiven him but she could feel some of her agitation ease. whether that was a good thing or not -- she didn't know but of course, time would tell with jameson.

"...i'm still mad." imani told him, placing her hands against her hips. "don't think i'm not. or that you can just fly to me in the middle of the night and think i'll forgive you."

"i don't think that at all" jameson said softly as he took a step closer to her. imani didn't move away. instead, she dropped her hands, watching as he lifted his hand to press to her hip. "say you're sorry again." she demanded. he repeated the apology, leaning in to seal it with a kiss to her lips -- and imani allowed it. all of a sudden, she got an idea and knew he'd go along with it.

jameson breathed a sigh of relief when she let him kiss him. imani never did anything she didn't want to do. she couldn't be bullied or tricked -- she stood on shit. so jameson knew if she ever fully made up her mind to get rid of him? he was good as gone. he had spent a year trying to get back next to her. he wasn't going to lose that shot.

"eat my pussy"

imani spoke lowly but with conviction. jameson's gaze shot up to meet hers, wondering if he imagined she said the words. but he hadn't. she looked at him, brow raised as if she thought he'd have something to say in response. but he didn't. this is what she needed from him right then. she needed his devotion and his obedience. it wasn't like anything they had done before. usually, jameson was in control -- they both liked it that way. but he kind of liked this too.

jameson reached for the fuzzy tie keeping her robe closed. with one sharp tug, it fell open and exposed her body to him. he could hear his heart beat pounding in his ears as he took her in. her skin was smooth and soft. he could still smell the lavender of her bubble bath. pretty titties sat high with nipples already pointed. he hadn't even touched her yet and she was ready. it wasn't like he hadn't seen her undressed before. he'd had her spread open and calling his name a week ago but every time he got his hands on this girl, he lost his mind.

without hesitation, jameson fell to his knees and began to kiss at her thighs. by the time he lifted her leg and placed it over his shoulder, her hands had his ears in a tight grip. he leaned in, mouth open and ready to taste before he felt her jerk his head backward. she almost lost her footing but remained stable as she stopped him from tasting her. "beg me for it."

he didn't waste his time arguing about it. he did what she asked -- and begged. "mani, please. i need you. i sat on a plane for seventeen hours. i don't have shit to wear but what i have on...and i don't give a fuck about any of that. i just want you to cum on my face. i'll make it good for you, baby." he didn't know it worked until she carefully pushed his head forward and wordlessly gave him the go-ahead.

jameson ran his tongue along her lips and up, parting her already wet folds with his tongue. the first touch of his tongue made her let jolt against his shoulder but she didn't stop him. not even when he began to lick, spread, and slurp at what she let rain down into his mouth. jameson hummed softly and happily, his hands finally lifting to grasp her ass. she tasted like water to a man who had been dying of thirst. he wanted to touch her everywhere. imani used his ears, dragging his head back and forth when his tongue swiped against her clit. she whimpered, slumping forward as she ground her hips against his mouth. "g-go back. right there. y-yeah..." she stuttered. his gaze lifted to her face, watching as she nodded her head in time to the way he sucked at her clit. jameson's hands moved down her legs, pushing her to lean further against his face.

eager hands caressed her thigh as his tongue lapped at her juices eagerly. the sound of her heavy breathing mingled with moans filled the room. she arched her back to give him better access while stroking his ears lovingly.

he forgot that they were in the living room of a suite she shared with a woman they considered family. he forgot that she'd had him stressed him for almost twenty-four hours. he even forgot that the genie was coming back to the room soon. all he could see and think about was imani.

jameson wedged his tongue into her, angling it so that it thrust inside her pussy like his fingers would and was rewarded with a long moan from her. imani squirmed, the leg that kept her standing trembling and jameson braced it, taking enough control to angle the woman towards the couch. he did it without taking his tongue from her and was damn proud of himself.

his mouth closed around her clit as she fell to the couch and jameson didn't stop her as she lifted her other leg to his shoulder -- getting a better chance to ride his face. both her legs trembled as he finally pulled his hands from her legs and thrust his index and middle finger into her, twisting and squelching inside her wetness.

imani pulled at his ears so hard that jameson grunted against her, feeling the heat rising -- but he couldn't quite bring himself to give a shit. when she came, it was with a shout of his name and her thick thighs closing around his head. if she had killed him, he would have died happily.

he stroked her down from her release, kissing and petting at the wetness that she left between her thighs and against his face. imani let him, legs going weak as they fell open. for a moment, jameson just watched her try to catch her breath. he didn't get up, he didn't shove his dick in her mouth the way she liked him to. he just...waited. patience was a virtue and he felt like a fucking saint because it took her forever to come back to earth. he kissed her thighs, doing his best to take care of her. and then she spoke again -- her voice slurred with pleasure.

"take your clothes off."

once again, he followed the command with ease. he got up from the floor, kicking off his shoes as he dragged his tongue across his lips. his pants and boxer briefs followed. by the time he'd whipped his shirt over his head, she seemed to come to her senses.

"let me ride you."

she was still giving the commands but jameson noticed her tone go soft. he stood naked in front of her and her eyes were trained on his dick. the attention pleased him and made his length bob. "stop looking at me like that. my dick is already hard enough." he muttered, as she smiled brazenly. he fell to the couch next to her and watched as she climbed onto his lap...reverse cowgirl. she knew he never lasted long that way.

jameson snatched the robe from her body, tossing it across the room. he didn't want any distractions or anything hiding her from him.

her entire body still felt like electricity was running through it. jameson could talk a lot of shit but he always backed it up. that tongue of his was a killer and it never missed when he put it between her legs. if his dick hadn't looked so damn perfect when she told him to strip, she probably would have left him with blue balls. but why fight it? it was pleasure for them both. imani leaned forward, using the fancy coffee table in front of the couch as leverage. with one hand against the expensive oak table and the other around her body -- fingers wrapped around his dick, imani guided him to the right spot. as expected, jameson's groan was louder than her moan.

he slipped into her with ease, her shaking hands didn't have to do too much work. imani worked herself up and down his length, her head dropping to watch their bodies rock against one another. despite the tension between jameson's strong hands pressed to her hips, and circled her hips. he was slowly siphoning control from her and imani didn't want that.

she pushed against the coffee table, sending her body to press to his. the move worked. her back pressed to his chest and jameson immediately brought his hands from her hips to her breasts. imani rocked on his hips, ignoring the way he panted against her ear. his fingertips pinched and pulled at her nipples, his other hand moving to brush against her clit. imani slapped his hand away, turning her head to meet his gaze. "tell me this dick is mine."

he didn't hesitate. he repeated after her, hissing when she lifted her hips and then sent them back down again. his gaze went from her face to down their bodies, watching as he slipped in and out of her. "fuck, baby...it's yours. this your dick." he mumbled, "let me play with my pussy. please." jameson never begged. not usually. but she loved to hear the word 'please' falling from his mouth.

she increased her pace by planting her feet on the ground next to his. with her hands against his thighs, imani began to bounce on his lap. jameson lost sight of her breasts as she lifted up but his fingertips didn't lose muscle memory. they pulled and squeezed as she ride him recklessly. imani tightened over him, her draw dropping from how full she felt. from how good he felt hitting every single sensitive part inside her.

his hips met hers and their syncronized rocking turned into clashing. imani whimpered as jameson dropped his hand from her chest and pulled her leg higher. "fuck me hard." she panted, suddenly just as desperate as he was. their skin was hot against one another, friction in more ways than one. jameson grunted as he went deep -- she took all of him in with a sharp exhale. "fuck yes!" he cried out, feeling her walls squeeze around him. his forehead rested against the back of her neck as imani rode him. she could feel his heated pants against her skin and was shocked that she heard a whimper from the back of his throat.

"don't." she said harshly, shaking her head as she fought the release she felt building. "don't cum until i tell you to." this brought a growl from jameson's mouth. he let her leg go and tugged her back by her hair. imani cried out as he kept her stationary. the hand between her legs moved quickly, strumming at her clit until she squirmed and panted -- fighting off the release. imani shook her head, refusing to let go. jameson knew decided to play dirty.

he pinched her clit, satisfied when she yelped and tightened over his dick. he felt a rush of wet hit and gave a long moan of his own. she gushed around his length, squirting so quickly that neither of them knew what hit them. he kept fucking her, thrusting in and out as she yelled his name and came all over him...and herself...and the couch. she was breathless, disoriented as jameson released her hair. "say it." he muttered.

his hands were at her waist then, bending her forward and bouncing her hard. her eyes crossed and rolled before jameson slapped his hand against her thigh. "say it!" he grunted. imani finally remembered...he was waiting for her. she smiled, proud of herself that he got to suffer a little bit before she placed her hands over his own and used every last bit of energy she had to fuck his release from him. "you can cum, daddy. cum in me."

it took only a second for him to follow through. he reached up to cup her breast. her pussy clenched even tighter around him because of that. his fingers dug into her hips while he thrust harder into her warmth until finally...his entire body tensed. jameson kept her planted on his lap, rocking her back and forth as he finally came inside her with a strangled cry. for a few moments, they were both panting and moaning, lost in the pleasure that had consumed them. imani fell back against him as jameson's hands caressed her sides tenderly. they both started to come down from their high. imani reached for his hands, wrapping them around her body and jameson took the hint. he cuddled against her, stroking and soothing she relaxed more in his arms. the two didn't exchange words but imani knew the truth -- she was back on that rollercoaster ride with him.

she could hear him snoring. genie stared down at her phone with a grin. all she could see was ellington's chin. he had fallen asleep on facetime with her -- something he swore he wouldn't do but he did. he had made her promise not to go back to her shared suite with imani and he made sense. everybody knew how those two were. they'd probably be back in love for breakfast and then on the outs again by lunch but genie wanted them to have space to figure it out.

when she left the hotel bar, she went to the front desk and got her own room. it was much smaller than the suite but not short on comfort. so began her night with ellington. from ten pm (Italian time) until six am -- she had shared her time with ellington dupree. they talked about everything. music, her fashion career, their hobbies. not once did imani and jameson come up. not once did her father come up. it was a miracle.

ellington had never really been in her life. he was jamie's friend. she knew they were close. their bond was unmatched. but she had never gone out of her way to be ellington's friend. watching him doze on his couch while she ordered breakfast for herself indicated that they were...at least becoming friendly. he had a wicked sense of humor and genie was sure that she liked that.

suddenly, her smile dropped and she leaned away from the phone. she liked it. not him. right? she didn't like him. if he was jamie's friend -- practically like a brother -- then that meant they were a lot alike, right? she couldn't deal with a man like jameson. even if they weren't alike, dating within the friend group was messy. she had seen it first hand and didn't want to be apart of it. it took her a minute but she managed to force herself to hang up the phone.

so what she spent almost eight hours on the phone with a man. that didn't mean anything. it did not mean she had a crush on him.

[brattyfics]

Swampbound I

Adla had lived in Florida her whole life, yet the strange debris that washed ashore after storms still startled her. Broken tree limbs and splintered pieces of homes were expected, but today was different.

Tangled in seaweed, she spotted frantic turtle hatchlings, frogs, and crabs struggling to reclaim their place in the chaos. But nothing compared to the sight before her: a bloody, mangled deer carcass lying in the tall grass, torn flesh and fur clinging to shredded cloth.

Her instincts screamed at her to turn back, but curiosity pulled her closer. Kneeling down, she caught the metallic scent of blood, and a chill gripped her. Something violent had occurred.

A gator? No, they dragged their prey into the water. Maybe a hawk? But even a bird of prey wouldn’t leave this kind of mess. Could it be a bobcat? They prowled these swamps, opportunistic in their hunting. But as she examined the prints—large, wolf-like, and deeper than any she��d seen—her heart raced. Four parallel prints faded into something far stranger: two flatter, elongated impressions.

Like feet.

Human feet.

The footprints were far too big to be hers, and she knew she was alone out there. The air felt thick, the swamp unnaturally quiet, as if the world was holding its breath. Her father’s voice echoed in her mind: “Never run from a person or an animal. Running makes you prey.”

She gripped her hunting knife, steadying her wrist, eyes scanning the brush for hidden dangers but there was nothing– no one hiding in the bushes, no animal stalking her. Just thick humidity, carrying the earthy scent of wet soil and decaying leaves. 

Time to head back.

As she treaded carefully over the spongy ground, the low rumble of an engine caught her attention. She hadn’t expected company—she rarely did. As a child, she’d hated the isolation of this place, but now it felt like a shield.

Rushing up the muddy incline, her boots kicked loose clumps of earth. At the porch of her old Cracker house, she leaned against the weathered wood, squinting down the overgrown path. A boxy, faded green Jeep Cherokee bounced along the uneven track.

Jesse Hampton. Of course.

He stepped out, scanning the trees before his gaze settled on her. His mahogany skin glistened under the humid sun, damp shirt clinging to his chest, hair wild from the moisture. Stubble covered his jaw—unusual for him but understandable after the chaos of the storm. Even so, he was as handsome as ever.

“Addy,” he called, voice steady but laced with urgency. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.” His gaze darted behind her, searching the shadows. “I know it seems all quiet and nice, but it ain’t safe.”

She rolled her eyes, not wanting to give him more reason to worry. “You’re soundin’ just like my father.”

Jesse’s expression tightened, something unspoken hanging between them. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Promise me you’ll be careful. You got a light in you that draws eyes—sometimes the wrong ones.”

His words hung heavy, and a flicker of fear flashed in her eyes. “You’re fussing over nothing. I’m just fine,” she shot back, but unease gnawed at her. Jesse knew something she didn’t.

“What you doing out here, anyway?” she asked, folding her arms.

“Do I need a reason?” he countered, flashing that charming smile of his.

“You always got a reason when you show up without warning. So, what’s the scoop this time?”

Jesse owned a busy convenience store in town but thrived on side hustles, always finding a way to get by. She admired his resourcefulness, but it was a reminder that he always had some angle he was working.

“Just wanted to check on you, see how you’re faring after the storm. But if I ain’t welcome…” He paused, putting on a mock-serious face. “I can just as easily turn right back around.”

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed, turning away as she ascended the steps. “You say that every time, but you always wind up inside.” She shot him a teasing grin over her shoulder. “You don’t even bother asking to come in anymore.”

“After all the times I’ve been ‘round, why would I ask?” He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a playful spark in his eye. “Sometimes late at night, if I remember right.”

Adla shook her head, heading toward the kitchen. “That ain’t the same thing, and you know it.”

She opened the fridge and grabbed a pitcher of cold water, pouring a glass and handing it to him. Their fingers brushed, igniting that familiar spark that always hung in the air between them.

“Why you gotta say it like that?” Jesse asked, his brow furrowing as he took a sip from his glass.

“‘Cause you gotta get it, Jesse,” Adla replied, picking her words with care. “I ain’t one for surprises. You should’ve let me know you were coming before just poppin’ up like this.” She forced a sweet smile, hoping to ease the sting. Before anything, he was her closest friend, and the last thing she wanted was to hurt him.

He leaned casually against the counter, a sly grin spreading across his face. Adla considered asking if he’d been snooping around her property—Jesse had a knack for being sneaky—but thought better of it. Questions would only lead to more questions.

“I thought I was special,” he inched closer, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Oh, really? Where’d you get that idea from?” She raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement.

“Just a hunch,” he said, tugging at a tight curl in her ponytail, the spiral bouncing back like a rubber band. He leaned in to whisper, “I figured if I play my cards right and keep doing that thing you like, I might get a little something in return.”

She fought to hold back a smile. “Like what exactly?”

“Ain’t askin’ for much. Just the freedom to come and go when I feel like it.” Jesse leaned in for a kiss, his lips hovering just shy of hers. Adla pushed against his broad chest, stopping him.

Jesse was fine as hell—fit, sharp, and always finding a way out of trouble. She liked being around him, sure, but no one—not even him—was about to think they had a hold on her. She ran her own life, and settling down wasn’t in the cards, especially when she knew other women were likely getting a taste of that same charm and quick thinking too.

“Nope, not a chance,” she said, playful but firm, shaking her head. “But since you’re already here, I could use your help with something.”

“Oh really?” he replied, his interest piqued. “What you need?”

“Help me set these traps and see what washed up after that storm,” she said, stealing a quick sip from his cup. She wanted to catch some crabs and fish to fill up her freezer, and the thought of going back into the woods alone made her uneasy.

“Aww, man,” he groaned dramatically. “I should’ve known coming over here meant I’d have to work. You’re a real slave driver, you know that?”

They settled into a rhythm, working side by side, their comfortable banter broken by the silence of the storm’s aftermath. They inspected her garden for damage while Jesse filled her in on town gossip—apparently, Mrs. Flowers had been caught in Mr. Jenkins’ house by Mr. Flowers. Uprooted mustard greens littered the ground as Adla pulled them up, but thankfully, the okra and sweet potatoes had weathered the storm. She just hoped the excess moisture wouldn’t lead to rot.

Moving on to the fishing nets and traps, they stumbled upon something concerning.

A mountain of fish heads littered the reeds where she usually set her traps, alongside crab shells stripped of their claws and backs. This wasn’t the typical damage—something worse lurked here, disturbingly messy and uncharacteristic of the area’s usual predators.

“What in the world?” Adla muttered, her heart racing as she scanned the ground for prints. “You think it was a gator?

“A gator wouldn’t leave pieces like this,” Jesse replied, his brow furrowing.

“Something else made this mess,” she finished, feeling her skin prickling as those unsettling feelings from earlier came rushing back. She described the strange prints and the shredded carcass she’d seen to Jesse, who listened closely, rubbing her shoulders to calm her down.

“You shouldn't be out here tonight, Addy. Why don’t you come stay with me?”

Apprehension settled in her gut about what the darkness might bring, but she couldn’t accept his offer. His grandmother’s old house might be just down the road, but it felt wrong to spend the night in another woman’s home—even if she had adored Adla.

Plus, sneaking around with Jesse where anyone could see was out of the question. She refused to give anyone the chance to stir up drama or question her independence. She couldn’t bear the thought of becoming the next Mrs. Flowers, her good name dragged through the mud for all who would listen.

“No one—and nothing—is going to run me out of my house,” she said, half to him, half to herself. This place was her sanctuary, the fruit of her struggles and her ancestors' labor. They had fought hard for this land, and she felt a fierce pride in maintaining it. Out in the wilderness, peace was something earned, not given. She would defend her home if it came to that.

“You don’t know what’s lurking out here, and you think it’s smart to be by yourself? That don’t make no sense, baby doll,” Jesse insisted, his usual persistence edged with urgency.

“Don't call me that. I’m not your ‘baby doll,’” she shot back, irritation flaring. She knew what was good for her better than anyone else ever could. Jesse had been testing her boundaries too much lately.

“I already told you—I’m staying. You should head out on out here before dark.”

“Don’t be like that—” he started, his voice smooth and sweet like molasses. Today, though, she wasn’t falling for it.

“Go on,” she said, stepping in close to block his path. “I’ll finish up and lock everything up tight, but I need you to leave now.”

Jesse met her eyes, noticing the resolve etched into her expression. Adla stood firm, arms crossed, one hip jutting out, her nose wrinkled just so. She had made up her mind, and he knew he’d already pushed her enough for one day.

“Alright, I’m on my way,” he agreed. “But you promise me you ain’t stepping outside tonight. Whatever you do, don’t go crossing that threshold.”

Adla frowned at his strange phrasing. “Why would I be out here? I ain’t foolish enough to roam around at night." His shoulders were knotted with tension. "What’s got you so riled up?”

“Just trust me on this,” he insisted, locking eyes with her, his expression serious. “You’ll be safe, no matter what, if you just stay inside tonight.”

Last she checked, danger didn’t give a damn about doors, windows, or any other barriers. But it was clear he wouldn’t leave until she agreed.

“Alright, fine,” she said, stretching out the words, “I’ll stay in tonight. Not like I was gonna be out and about anyway.”

“Good,” Jesse smiled, wrapping her up in his arms tight. “I’ll call you later, and you better pick up. If you don’t, I’ll be back, whether you want me to or not.” As he turned to leave, Adla couldn’t help but smile after him. Jesse could be a handful, but beneath his cool front, she knew he cared for her just as fiercely as she did for him. In the wild expanse of the Florida swamps, that bond meant everything.

He lingered in the driveway while she hurried to gather crab shells, tossing them into the compost bin—no sense letting them go to waste. He didn’t start his engine until she was safely inside with the door closed, waving goodbye from the street as she watched from the window.

After locking up, she sank into a well-deserved bubble bath, a sweet reward for a hard day’s work. The clawfoot tub, older than her but still in solid shape, had become a cherished fixture in her home. The bathroom, filled with the scent of incense and candles, wrapped around her like a familiar hug. After her father passed, her first goal had been to breathe life back into the old house, make it her own.

Reminders of him were everywhere—the doorframe where he marked her height on the first day of school, the cast-iron pans he used for dinner. But mostly, the house was hers now—weathered, yet undeniably new in its own way.

Her time in the city felt like a world away from the peace she found here. Juggling multiple jobs just to make ends meet, she was always surrounded by nosy neighbors and men who didn’t know how to take no for an answer. But the worst part was the stalker—a shadowy figure who slipped chilling notes under her apartment door. I know who you are. What you can do. It left her confused and drained, but she didn’t tuck tail and run back home until her father passed away.

The guilt of not being there at the end haunted her, so she kept busy. Her part-time job at the new bed-and-breakfast in town helped pay the bills, and on weekends, she sold her art—sculptures made from found objects—at a flea market a couple of towns over. Every spare moment was spent creating with her hands. Her life wasn’t glamorous, but the peace and was worth more than anything else.

“When You’re Young and in Love” by The Marvelettes played softly on the record player, one of her mother’s favorites. She couldn’t quite relate to the notion of being swept off her feet but it sounded good, romantic even. Her daddy had been left in pieces when her mama died, never even thinking about finding another. She yearned for a love that strong, but the idea also chilled her to the bone.

She had only a handful of pictures, but from those, Adla saw the resemblance. She inherited her father’s level-headed temperament, but her rich skin tone, flat nose, and wide, expressive eyes—all of that came from her mother. Those features made her feel close to the woman whose absence she felt deeply.

With a sigh, Adla rose from the cool water, wrapping a towel around her waist. Her earlier worries faded as she slathered on cocoa butter lotion and slipped into a floral-patterned cotton nightgown.

After her nighttime routine of checking the locks and lights, she settled in. The old wooden floors creaked softly underfoot—a comforting sound that added to the home’s charm.

Just as she was about to crawl into bed, faint sounds from outside caught her ear—rhythmic scraping and thumping carried on the wind. Strange noises weren’t rare out in the boonies, but this one sent a shiver down her spine. Something was different. She paused in the hallway, glancing toward the door.

A tug, almost physical, pulled her toward it, despite Jesse’s warnings. It was as if something—someone—was calling her, and the urge was too strong to ignore. 

The door creaked as she pushed it open. Through the screen, she squinted, trying to make sense of the dim shapes outside. A flicker of movement caught her eye, and in the cool moonlight, she saw it—something massive. A shadow loomed over the porch, too large to be any regular animal.

A knot twisted in her gut. It wasn’t a bobcat. This was more like a coyote—if coyotes were massive. No, this creature looked more like a wolf, except wolves didn’t roam Florida’s saltwater jungle.

Its amber eyes glowed like lanterns in the dark, locking onto hers with an intensity that left her feeling ice-cold. Jesse’s warnings echoed in her mind. Was this creature more than it seemed?

I know this fool ain’t lookin’ at me like I’m dinner. Adla squared her shoulders. “You don’t belong here,” she hollered, “Now, git! Get on outta here!”

The wolf growled low and deep, the frightening sound vibrating through the night air. It took a shaky step forward, and she noticed it was limping. A deep, ugly gash ran from its back down to its hind leg, blood darkening the wooden porch.

She didn’t move. Something about the creature—its pain, its presence—held her still. It was more than an injured beast. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt rooted to the spot.

A wave of instinct surged through her, a primal warning that clashed with her fear.

“Don’t you dare come any closer!” she warned, reaching for the shotgun above the door, her gaze locked on the approaching creature. She raised the gun, aiming through the screen, her finger on the trigger.

If it took just one more step forward—

The wolf paused at the door’s edge, held back by something unseen, something stronger than the flimsy screen. Her eyes flicked to the threshold, recalling Jesse’s cryptic words about things not crossing certain lines.

This was it. A choice. But Adla hesitated, her finger hovering over the trigger. She couldn’t pull it.

The wolf whined, collapsing in a heap at her feet, its strength giving out. Its amber eyes, still glowing, held no aggression—only a silent plea. The sight tugged at something deep inside her, stirring memories of her own struggles.

Her father’s words echoed in her mind: “Respect the creatures out here, just like you respect yourself. Life’s tough enough without us makin’ it harder on each other.”

Adla sighed, lowering the shotgun. The wolf’s blood was already drying on the porch. Tomorrow, she’d scrub it clean, but for tonight, she’d let the creature stay. She hoped it would make it through the night.

After triple-checking the locks, she placed the shotgun within arm’s reach and settled into bed, the creaking floorboards beneath her a familiar lullaby. Yet, the strange pull toward the wolf lingered in her mind. Maybe it wasn’t just an animal, but something deeper—a reflection of her own struggles, a sign from her father. Whatever it was, she’d reckon with it tomorrow. For now, she surrendered to sleep, trusting that both she and the wolf would survive the night.

Chapter Two.

@nayaesworld @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @sageispunk @megamindsecretlair @blowmymbackout @kindofaintrovert @avoidthings @zillasvilla @insidefeelingofanadult @theereina @slutsareteacherstoo @babybratzmaraj @senajaiaspeak @princessmakipala @writingsbytee @planetblaque @liquorlaughslove @judymfmoody @playgurlxoxo @theescorpiolovechile @keyaho @gg-trini i @vivaalenaa @li-da-savage @ash-ketchumzzz

[keyaho]

Melanin Preparatory Academy

.summary.: Sisters Brennan and Blaire Anderson are the founders of Melanin Preparatory Academy. A private school that services the African American community in South Georgia. While the school does phenomenally, the personal lives of the sisters aren’t as put together. Brennan and Aaron are hiding their relationship while his twin, Terry, tries to rekindle his relationship with Blaire, the mother of their seven year old son, Noah. co-written with: @zillasvilla

Kindergarten - 3rd grade students remain with one teacher for the whole school year.

Orientation : Coming Soon

Taglist: This is the masterpost so if you would like to be added, please like this post. If you would like to be removed let us know as well.

group one: @nayaesworld @peachbuttetfly @harmshake @heauxvibez @avoidthings

group two: @mymindisneverhere @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @eilujion @heytaewrites

group three: @browngirldominion @insidefeelingofanadult @blackerthings @gwenda-fav @brandithecrystalgem

group four: @captainwithoutmakingitlove @dremmmm @kindofaintrovert @thegreatlibraryofalex @jimmybutlrr

group five: @beenathembo @kuromiish @virgomess @bbyxgall @theereina

group six: @randomhood @ash-ketchumzzz @dundienominated

[st4rg1rl-16]

━━ ✶✶˖° 𝗪𝗜𝗞𝗜𝗣𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗔 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗘 | 𝗡𝟰𝗦.

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴(𝘀) ━ 2019 to 2023!f1 grid x driver!female oc

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 ━ english is not my first language, I know I already said it but just in case hshshsh also I know there are some things that may not be accurate but let’s pretend they are for the sake of the fic 😙👌🏻

𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ━ @namgification @burberryfilms

ARABELLA TORRES GONZÁLEZ

Spanish racing driver

Arabella Torres González (born May 26 2000) is a spanish racing driver. In 2016 and 2018 she won the Formula Two championship. In 2019 she acquired a place in Formula One with Scuderia Ferrari, in 2021 she signed an eight-year contract with Mercedes.

Name                  Arabella Torres González

Nickname(s)     La diabla, Bella Donna, Speedy

Born          26 may 2000 (age 21) Leganés, Madrid, Spain

Nationality 🇪🇸 Spanish

Relatives Oliver Torres (brother)

Teams                 Ferrari, Mercedes

Active years      2019 —

Car number 9

Wins              18

Podiums              41

Career Points    859

Pole positions 13

Fastest laps      8

First entry 2019 Australia Grand Prix

First win 2019 Spanish Grand Prix

Last win 2021 Turkish Grand Prix

2021 position        2nd (393)

Website arabellatorres.com

She is known for being the only woman to be an official Formula One driver since Giovanna Amati in 1992 and the second female driver with points since Lella Lombardi in 1976, thus creating history in the world of motorsport. At the 2019 Spanish Grand Prix she took her first victory, becoming the first woman in history to win a grand prix.

After a competition against Valtteri Bottas with whom she remained tied in terms of points during the last three races of the 2019 season, she won the title of sub champion in the drivers' world championship giving Ferrari the second place in the constructors' world championship.

In 2020 she suffered a horrible accident that made her unable to finish the Tuscan Grand Prix, after that race her results during the last eight races went down.

In the 2021 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix she returned to the podium (and in the championship) in second position after a close competition against Max Verstappen due to losing control of her car causing both of them to almost collide, but she managed to regain control and finish the race without no harm.

Her younger brother, Oliver Torres, is a Moto GP driver for Yamaha Motor Racing.

𝗕𝗜𝗢𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗣𝗛𝗬 ↓

Arabella was born in Leganés, a Madrid’s municipality, on 26 may 2000, as the eldest of two siblings: she and her little brother, Oliver Torres. Since she was a little girl she grew up with Formula 1 at home, as her father was a big fan and never missed a race although she was not too interested in the motor world of until one of her uncles gifted her brother a mini kart for christmas that she ended up using it, which sparked her curiosity about cars.

Her interest in cars began to grow, she began to watch Formula 1 with her father and her uncle, she noticed car brands and models and was passionate about car movies. She has mentioned several times that the Fast And Furious saga is one of her favorites.

From December 2018 to December 2020 she resided in Monte Carlo, Monaco. In 2021 she bought an apartment in London, England with her partner, the spanish football player Hector Bellerin. She currently lives between Monte Carlo and London.

𝗖𝗔𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗥 ↓

Torres began her racing career in karting at the young age of 9, competing in different categories. She won the Spanish Championship in the novice category in 2009, won the cadet category in 2010 and two more consecutive times. In 2013, in the KF3 European Championship she had a horrible accident when she reached second place, thus being the only race that she has not finished, a tire on her car burst causing her to fly several meters until she crashed into a fence in front of the stands. She had several spinal injuries and had to undergo surgery several times so she had to retire for a year, losing the opportunity to be signed by the Red Bull Junior Team.

At the age of 14, a year after her accident she returned to the world of motorsport in Formula 3 with Prema PowerTeam, finishing in sixth position in the FIA Formula 3 European Championship, in 2015 she finished on the podium in second position.

In 2016 she signed with the Ferrari Driver Academy and entered Formula 2 where she won first place in the 2016 and 2018 seasons.

Two years later, in 2019, she was announced as a driver for Scuderia Ferrari for Formula 1 alongside Charles Leclerc. During her contract with Ferrari she raced 38 races of which she won 9 and came second in the 2019 drivers' championship.

On December 13 2020, during the race in Abu Dhabi, Ferrari announced that Torres would not be part of the team for the following season and a week later it was announced that she would be replaced by Carlos Sainz Jr. On March 2 2022 during the presentation of their new car Mercedes announced, after almost three months of confusion about Arabella's future in Formula 1, that the driver had signed a contract with them for a duration of eight years, that is, until 2029.

𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗨𝗟𝗧𝗦 ↓

𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗦 ↓

𝗣𝗨𝗕𝗟𝗜𝗖 𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ↓

𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗩𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗨𝗥𝗘𝗦 ↓

𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗦 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗔𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ↓

𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ↓

𝗥𝗘𝗙𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘𝗦 ↓

𝗘𝗫𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗞𝗦 ↓

[xxratsuicidexx]

Goober. ☹️☹️☹️

[holllandtrash]

synopsis here | masterlist | word count: 6.3k | spotify playlist chapter 1 of sky's on fire [ an f1 love-triangle story ]

“People have already compared you to the likes of Lewis Hamilton…” “You’re set to finish third in the F2 series…” “How soon can you expect the call to move to F1…”

Red stood off to the side, watching Kingston chat to the podcast hosts sitting on the couch opposite of him. Kingston was relaxed, answering the questions that were thrown at him with ease. He had gone through hours and hours of media training, but on top of that, he was a natural in the spotlight. 

Of course Red was proud of him. With this being his first year in F2, it was impossible to ignore the way he quickly rose through the ranks of the seasoned drivers. Kingston was on a mission, he wanted to be noticed, especially by those in Formula 1.

He was ending off the 2022 season with a high note. Only two races left, Monza this weekend and then Abu Dhabi in November. It was unlikely that her brother would be surpassed by any of the other drivers. There was enough of a gap that unless something drastic happened, Kingston Diaz would claim third place as his.

“Lewis Hamilton, huh?” Red teased, playfully shoving him with maybe a bit too much force but as his older sister, she had a right to mess with him. Kingston rolled his eyes in response, but she could tell that the compliment went right to his head, he just couldn’t let it show until they left the studio.

Which is why Red waited until they were outside to bring it up. Kingston no longer needed to put on the persona of a racing driver, no longer needed to uphold the standards he had given to himself when driver mode was on. Here, the two of them blended with other visitors and tourists. They could be themselves, Kingston could get excited over the idea that people in the motorsport world saw him as the next generation's Lewis Hamilton.

“He’s my idol,” Kingston admitted, as if this was something Red didn’t already know. “What if I get a spot in Formula 1 while he’s still racing? That would be-” he exhaled, that award winning smile appearing on his face said more than the rest of his sentence ever would.

“It’s possible,” she said, not letting herself think about it too much, at least not the same extent he was.

Red was familiar with Formula 1, she was raised on it thanks to her mother introducing it to her father when they started dating years ago. Hence why Kingston was now a driver. He would never go as far to say this career path was pushed on him, but if he took a step back he might come to the realisation that he was never really given any other choice.

But this path has worked for him, so there was no need to question it. And Red was happy enough to just be along for the ride when she could.

“2024,” Kingston nodded, clapping his hands together. “That’s the goal. Have an F1 seat for 2024.”

Red didn’t say anything in response. Her brother always dreamt big and it was better to just support him with a smile and a nod than to try and bring him back down to earth. She wasn’t necessarily a pessimist but she saw the world for how it was, and realistically speaking, Kingston getting offered a seat for the 2024 season was extremely unlikely, especially with a few teams already making drastic changes to their line up for next year.

She let him go off about the possibilities until they reached the car that was parked just down the street. Kingston smiled at the few people who were admiring the sleek McLaren GT and maybe he was a little arrogant when he pulled out his keys and unlocked the doors.

It’s on loan, Red wanted to yell and completely burst his bubble, but she climbed in the passenger seat without saying a word, letting her brother have his moment. 

“I just have a few more media obligations at the paddock and then we’re free for the rest of the day,” he assured her as the car roared to life. Red didn’t have any plans anyway, she never did during race weekends. Her job was to be the supportive sister and that was a role she happily stepped into.

So she stood on the sideline again, a prominent smile on her face as she watched Kingston and his teammate participate in some sort of challenge that she didn’t really understand and by the looks of it, neither did the drivers.

Red was proud of her brother, truly. She loved watching him thrive and the excitement he carried on race weekends was contagious. That was why she tried to go to as many races as she could. It was impossible to worry about anything with Kingston’s smile lighting up the paddock, before and after each of his sessions, regardless of his standings.

He was carefree and optimistic. Two things that Red knew she was not. So the more time she spent around him the better it was for her own sake.

By the time they finished filming, Kingston said he wanted to quickly look at some of the footage, and no one ever said no to him, so Red told him that she’d just meet him outside the media building. 

She walked out and noticed that during their time inside, the sun had started to set and was no longer beaming down on them with horrid heat. Red pulled the sunglasses off of her head and unzipped the bag that rested over her chest. 

Multitasking was not something she excelled at and with the couple of steps she had to walk down, Red looked up from her bag to make sure she wouldn’t trip. 

Red wished she was joking when she said that time slowed as two F1 drivers walked by her. While she attended as many of King’s races as she could, it was rare she ever interacted with anyone outside his team, let alone Formula 1 drivers. 

Completely forgetting about the sunglasses she was fumbling to fit into the belt bag strapped over her shoulder, she spotted the drivers and that’s when her world stopped.

And Red didn’t believe in love at first sight, she had followed that path hopelessly once before and it only left her in heartbreak, but this was different.

She looked up and locked eyes with him and she knew that damage was done.

Because that’s what it was. An accident waiting to happen. 

Red knew that nothing good was going to come from this chance encounter because her attention went directly to the driver with dark brown hair and green eyes, but it was the one with dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes that stopped walking so he could talk to her.

He was a man with a mission. His knew what he wanted since he spotted her walking out of the media building. The one in red, however, did a double take as he looked up at her, then at his phone and then snapped his head up once more when he saw the girl that was about to pass him. As if not believing that someone like her was truly in front of him, like she wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

Red, this whole time, didn’t even think about the one who was actually giving her attention until he stopped walking and said something, his hand brushing over her arm to keep her from going any further as well.

“Hi,” he said, his lips curling upwards to show off a dangerous smile. “Sorry to stop you, but may I ask who you're here with?”

Red looked over her shoulder, expecting her brother to be behind her but he must not have followed immediately, probably still watching the footage. 

“Kingston,” she answered, gesturing with her thumb to the doors of the media building. “Diaz, sorry. Kingston Diaz, The F2 driver. He’s my brother.”

He looked more optimistic when she said those words. My brother. She wasn’t there with a partner, which was why he felt confident enough to extend his hand and introduce himself.

“I’m Pierre,” his smile had yet to fade. The more Red stared at it, at him, the more she thought to herself that this man was going to be trouble. 

But she shook his hand, ignoring the sirens and the flashing red lights going off in the back of her head. A choice that she would one day regret.

“Red,” she smiled back, eyes darting to his friend. She knew who Pierre was, he didn’t need to introduce himself, just like Charles Leclerc also didn’t need to introduce himself. And he probably wouldn’t have, had she kept her gaze on Pierre.

“Charles,” he waited until Pierre dropped her hand so he could shake it as well, maybe holding on a second longer than his friend did but no one was going to comment on that, even if they all noticed. “I’m sorry, your name is Red?”

This was a common question. Red wished she had the confidence and the charisma to make a joke about her parents name choosing skills. She wished she could say something witty, something that would make these two prestigious men standing before her crack a smile or laugh.

But Red went with the safe route. She wasn’t in Monza to make any sort of impression, she was there to support her brother.

“It’s my initials,” she clarified. 

Charles asked before Pierre could and then ignored the sliver of annoyance in his friend's features, focusing on the girl in front of him instead, “So what is your name?”

“Well, Red,” she said again. “I’ve been called that my entire life, anything else would just sound foreign.” She swallowed, wondering why she was wasting time and not even answering his question properly. “Sorry, it’s River. But again, no one calls me that.”

“Red,” Pierre said with a nod, toying with the idea of what it would be like to hear himself say it more often. He didn’t hate it. 

His line of sight darted downwards for a quick second, she caught it. The subtle way he checked her out. She didn’t hate that. While her initial attraction was for Charles, the Ferrari driver seemed to be stuck in his thoughts and the idea of making any sort of move took a backseat.

Pierre took advantage of his friend's hesitation.

“Well Charles sees enough red to last a lifetime, whereas I unfortunately don’t,” Pierre licked his lips as a faint chuckle passed through them. “Are you free tonight?”

Red, not used to the idea that someone with as high of a status as Pierre Gasly would be interested in her, actually looked over shoulder, expecting to see a much prettier, well-versed and confident girl behind her. But there was no one.

“You’re asking me out?” Maybe that wasn’t the best response, but it earned another laugh from the French driver. Charles chuckled as well, but his sounded a bit more forced. 

“I am,” he was so poised, so sure of his response whereas Red was fumbling.

“Oh,” she nodded and then another, “Oh- I mean, yes. Yes, I’m free.”

“Perfect,” Pierre was pleased with her answer. “I assume you’re staying in Milan?”

“The Four Seasons,” she confirmed. 

“Great. Meet me in the lobby at seven.”

It wasn’t a question, nor a suggestion. Pierre was telling her where to be at what time and Red, in that moment, admired the confidence. She didn’t see it as a telling sign that this would be a recurring theme. She simply nodded, still in awe and confusion as the two of them turned around and kept walking.

Red waited a second before making a move anywhere and because the soles of her shoes were seemingly frozen to the ground as she processed what just happened, she caught the way Charles turned over his shoulder, wanting to take one last quick look at the girl that Pierre was taking out on a date because he couldn’t find his words fast enough.

By the time Kingston did leave the media building, he noticed the way his sister was seemingly starstruck.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I might as well have,” Red shook her head. The last few minutes didn’t feel real. If someone told her she dreamt it, she would believe them. “I got asked out.”

Kingston snorted, wondering how that could have happened in the short amount of time he was stuck inside, “By who?”

She looked down the paddock but the two drivers were already long gone. A sharp inhale was all she could provide at first when she looked at Kingston, trying to guess how he would respond to the idea of her going out with a driver.

“Pierre Gasly.”

His reaction was not one she could have anticipated. It was evident with his expression alone that he didn’t believe her and when he continued walking down the paddock, Red walked at his side, explaining what had happened in the last couple of minutes to the best of her ability. 

It wasn’t until they climbed into the car did it finally click for Kingston that she was being honest. AlphaTauri driver, soon to be Alpine driver, Pierre Gasly was in fact taking his sister out on a date. 

Being a few years younger than Red, Kingston wasn’t sure if he was allowed to have an opinion, if he was allowed to take on the protective brother role. The uncertainty behind whether or not Red would even listen was what convinced him to keep his mouth shut at the end of it. 

But he had heard things about the French driver. Rumours, gossip really, that he wasn’t someone who lasted long in relationships. His name was attached to the words infidelity and dishonesty, but if Kingston had heard such things, surely his sister must have as well. 

And Red was an adult. She could make her own choices. Kingston knew she was smart, maybe a little naive and had some hopeless romantic tendencies, but he hoped that after a few years, she had learned from her previous relationships. 

She didn’t talk about her partner from highschool, but at this point it had been almost seven years. While being cheated on was something that would always haunt her, no matter how old she got, she had moved on from the toxicity of her first boyfriend. 

And then there was ‘the phase’ as Kingston called it. The time in her life where she would be with any guy who showed her a fraction of attention. She treated them far better than any of them ever treated her, but Red was at a point in her life where she didn’t know how to thrive in being alone. She was dependent on male figures, usually older.

Once, Kingston called her out on it, using the term ‘daddy issues’ and he didn’t use it loosely either. Growing up in the same household, Kingston had seen the lack of attention she received from their father, he saw the disconnect, he saw how hard she worked for his approval and praise.

When she got older, instead of trying to find reconciliation with their father, she moved on to searching for what was missing in partners. Kingston pointed out that a lot of the men she was with were the same as their dad. Mirroring Arlos’ emotionally unavailable and toxic traits. It shouldn’t have come to a surprise when Red brushed the idea off, she had done the same with her dad for years. Never wanting to accept that her issues were so deeply rooted in her childhood and were now affecting the way she sought out partners.

There was only ever one boyfriend of hers that Kingston approved of. He was also the only one who ever met their parents as Red knew he was one to show off, one to be proud of. He treated her right and it was heartbreaking for nearly everyone in her life when they called it off. 

But it was the long distance that proved to be too challenging to overcome. If he was in Europe that would be one thing, but with Red living in London and Mason’s career being based out of LA, it wasn’t destined to last. 

She had been single since then, trying to grow in this new chapter she found herself in and spending most of 2021 and up until now, all of 2022 by herself. It was good for her, everyone agreed. 

Ultimately, that’s why Kingston kept quiet, muttering a reminder to ‘be careful, is all’ when she said that she was going to go on the date with Pierre. He trusted she could take care of herself, that she had learned the lessons required to find happiness with someone, someone that wouldn’t drain her. The rumours about him were just that, rumours. He had no idea what Pierre was actually like in a relationship and he had faith in his sister that if things become difficult, she would leave. Having Mason as a reminder of what a healthy relationship looked like, Kingston wasn’t as worried about Red as he would have been years ago.

Red chose a black dress for her date, nothing scandalous but it was form fitting and off the shoulder. The gold necklace she wore matched her earrings and rings and stood out beautifully against her tanned skin. Her hair took a bit more effort and when the Milan heat proved to be pointless to fight against, she opted for pulling her hair back into a high ponytail. 

She could have headed down to the lobby of the hotel when she finished getting ready ten minutes to seven, but she waited, not wanting to seem too eager. Of course, with her luck, everyone seemed to be needing the elevator when she pressed the button and Red didn’t end up stepping foot onto the main floor until a little after the designated time.

Unsure where to look for her date, she just headed towards the front of the hotel. She glanced towards the couches, the doors and then finally looked at the bar that seemed to be quite full for a Wednesday evening.

She didn’t see Pierre, but she did see Charles.

Any other given evening, Red would not have gone up to him to start a conversation. She didn’t know the Monegasque driver,  they exchanged only a few words in the paddock and he was not the one she was going on a date with.

But he spotted her and with an inviting smile, waved her over to the bar top. Red hesitated, naturally, glancing over her shoulder to see if Pierre was nearby but again, he wasn’t in sight. So she crossed the lobby of the hotel and stepped into the connected restaurant, greeting Charles with a smile of her own. He straightened up instead of leaning against the bar top. 

“Pierre got a phone call not even twenty seconds ago,” Charles explained, doing his best to keep his eyes up even though all he wanted was to admire the way she looked in the dress. “He just stepped out to answer it, I can assure you, you weren’t stood up.”

Red laughed, “Honestly the thought didn’t cross my mind, but thank you for clarifying.” She looked around, not feeling awkward but definitely feeling a little out of place. Her comfort zone was F2 drivers, and even then she didn’t know many of them. When her eyes landed back on Charles, they both opened their mouths to say something and then simultaneously shut them.

Charles dipped his head, “You first.”

“Oh I was just curious as to what you were doing here, is all,” she said. “Are you staying in this hotel?”

“Ah, no,” Charles admitted. “Meeting a friend who’s staying here. It was convenient, honestly, that Pierre was also coming by. We just took the same car.”

“You two are- you’re friends, right?” Red asked and then felt the heat rise up to her cheeks. “I mean, I know you’re both drivers but you two are actually friends outside the races, right? Or was that just a bullshit article I read on twitter?”

He glanced down at the drink resting on the bar top and chuckled, “No, no we are friends. We grew up racing together.”

Red wasn’t sure if that information made this scenario easier or harder. She knew she was going on a date with Pierre, so the fact that she felt a pull of attraction towards Charles, his lifelong friend, was not ideal. Red did her best to ignore it, even taking a step back to create a bigger gap between them. Because that was the respectful thing to do, right? 

She should have been thankful when Charles’ eyes darted behind her. Red turned as well, seeing that it was Pierre who caught his attention. 

He looked nice, a pair of black slacks and a white linen shirt unbuttoned just enough to tease what laid beneath the material. The sleeves were rolled up his elbows and he adjusted the black watch on his wrist as he smiled at Red and Charles. 

“You look beautiful,” Pierre greeted her, hand going to her back. “Sorry, I had to take a call. I promise I usually have much better time management.”

“That’s okay, don’t worry,” she said, taking in his sharp features. Pierre was devilishly handsome, there was no denying that. If he wasn’t smiling or talking, his lips fell into a natural smirk, drawing her in like he had a secret to tell. 

Pierre patted his friend’s arm, “Thanks for keeping her company. Are you ready to go?” He nodded his head towards the front of the hotel. 

Red stepped away from the bar and closer to Pierre as he told her he made reservations at Sadler, a restaurant she was unfamiliar with as she had only ever spent a handful of days in Milan over the course of the last few years and eating at a Michelin-star restaurant was never on her list of things to do.

As Pierre was in the middle of telling Red that it was a short walk away from the hotel she halted and quickly turned back around, remembering that Charles also had a thought that he didn’t get to share. She pointed a finger at him, “You were trying to say something earlier before I asked why you were at the hotel-”

Charles waved it off, glancing at Pierre. “It’s nothing, I was just-” another look at Pierre, this time with caution. “I was just going to say you look lovely, is all.”

“Oh,” she felt the flutter in her chest, something she didn’t feel when Pierre complimented her. Again, she didn’t dwell on it. “Thank you and, uhm-” Pierre was waiting. “Have a good night.”

Pierre confirmed that she was alright walking in heels for a few minutes, offering to order a car if she preferred, but Red wasn’t one to complain and the restaurant wasn’t far, only a block up and over. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she went on a date so the only word to describe her for the first few minutes after sitting down at the table was awkward. Whereas Pierre’s aura was nothing but cool and confident. 

“Tell me about yourself,” Pierre said after the waiter had come by and poured them both a glass of wine. Red wasn’t a huge drinker, but she happily took a sip of the drink before answering. It didn’t ease her nerves instantly, but maybe by the time she finished the glass she’d be comfortable.

That was a loaded question though, one that Red didn’t even know how to start answering. The people she met usually cared about her brother and his career. Red was used to the spotlight being on him, even if he was nowhere around.

Now that she was given the opportunity to talk freely about herself, prompted by Pierre fucking Gasly, Red blanked.

Pierre noticed the hesitation, he could see the gears grinding behind her eyes as she tried to think of what to say. He found amusement in that and chuckled, changing the topic.

“Okay, what if you just tell me where you’re from.”

That she could do, “Birmingham,” she answered, feeling her cheeks flush. “But I moved to London after I finished highschool and I’ve been there since.”

“And what do you do there?”

She grimaced, “This is going to sound really pretentious, but I’m a model.”

“I don’t think it’s pretentious,” Pierre assured her. “I think it’s fitting though, you are beautiful. I’d buy whatever you’re selling.”

“No but I’m probably the worst model,” Red laughed before taking another sip of her drink. “I’m so painfully awkward in front of the camera and I don’t get booked for half of the jobs my agent sends me to. I’ll show up to the set and the director takes one look at me and sends me home,” she laughed again and Pierre joined in, both of them happy to find a little humour in her dilemmas. 

“Why don’t you switch career paths then?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows atop the table and clasping his hands together. The eye contact he held intimated her, but she knew it was impolite to keep looking away. 

“Well I don’t hate it, I just wish I was better at it,” Red told him, fingers twirling around the stem of her wine glass. “I think because Kingston is a natural in front of the cameras and talking to the media, people assume I’m the same way but I’m very…I don’t know, not as confident as I’d like to be, I guess.”

Pierre could have asked something about her brother, she had practically opened the door for him to, but he seemed to gloss right over the mention of Kingston, instead asking another question about her job which led into a discussion about travelling and by the time their entrees came, Red was telling Pierre that if she could move to Spain, she would. 

They talked about the languages they spoke, Red had him beat. Pierre knew three, she knew four. She said she’d teach him Spanish and if he taught her Italian, Pierre agreed to that deal. 

He spoke about Formula 1, but not for very long. Red was surrounded by motorsport just by following Kingston and as interested as she was to learn about Pierre, there was more to him than just his career. 

Red enjoyed talking to him. Once she got past the stage of not knowing what to say, conversation between them flowed naturally. He was a good listener, he asked follow up questions to learn more, he had an interest in what she had to say and the stories she shared.

But there was no spark.

Even though he made her laugh, even though he made her feel comfortable, even though he truly seemed to care to get to know her, Red didn’t feel that overwhelming urge to see him again. 

She wanted to like him, but this wasn’t something she could force. This also wasn’t something she was going to continue on the off chance she’d feel something down the road nor was it fair to be with him solely because of his name and status. 

Which is why, at the end of their evening, which was a delightful evening, Red turned down the invitation to go home with him. They stood outside the doors of the restaurant, the sun had set at this point and she used the light coming from the street lamps and nearby establishments to make out the solemn expression Pierre wore.

He wasn’t offended that she had said no, that she would rather go back to her hotel room alone instead of spending the night with him. He also didn’t try to pressure her into changing her answer, only told her that he was still going to walk her back to the Four Seasons. He could take the rejection, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he let her walk back alone.

By the time they made it to the front foyer of the hotel, Pierre reached for her hand to keep her from going through the double doors. His eyes searched her face, trying to find the answer to what had happened this evening.

“Did I do something?” Pierre asked her. 

She let out a breath of a laugh, “No, Pierre, you were a total gentleman all night.” 

“Did you have fun?”

“I did.”

“So would it be wildly inappropriate if I asked you out on a second date?” His mischievous grin made a return. 

Red knew she should have said no. If she didn’t feel a deep enough connection with him after sharing a table for two hours, and splitting a dessert, there was a strong chance she wouldn’t feel anything after the second date either. 

But saying ‘no’ was something she struggled with. Even just turning down his offer to go home with him gave her a wave of anxiety. The last thing she wanted was to get on someone's bad side and that included Pierre even if she never planned on seeing him again. 

Except there was something about his piercing blue eyes and bright features that made it challenging to turn down twice. Was she a pushover? Maybe, but that was a conversation she chose not to have with herself right now. Instead, she forced herself to look at in a way that painted Pierre as persistent instead of herself as spineless.

“Okay,” she said. “One more date,” as if she was giving the ultimatum here when the reality was, Red would much rather see someone else happy even if it meant putting herself in an uncomfortable position. 

She told herself that it really would be one more date, but she didn’t expect that it would grow consistently harder to keep saying no to Pierre. 

He gave her a kiss on the cheek to end the night after they exchanged numbers. Pierre assured her he’d call before the weekend ended, or if they were lucky they would run into each other in the paddock again. It was unlikely, but certainly possible.

Red didn’t know how to feel by the time she walked inside the hotel. The idea of having another glass of wine popped in her head, but she typically wasn’t someone who drank to relax and now would just be a horrible time to start. 

She glanced towards the bar, not surprised to see it had died down since she had stepped in earlier. But she was surprised to see that there was one man who seemingly hadn’t moved an inch, still sitting at the bar at the same spot as hours prior.

Maybe it was the few glasses of wine she did have, but the confidence she was lacking earlier made a shocking appearance and she found herself walking towards a one Charles Leclerc. He didn’t notice her, not until she sat down on the empty stool next to him. At that point, she was impossible to not notice. 

Charles looked up, both of them wearing smiles. While hers was more smug, his was reminiscent of a young childs’ who had just been caught eating cookies before dinner and tried to play it off innocently. 

“Don’t tell me you got stood up?” She teased, thinking about earlier when he was the one who assured her that her date was nearby. 

“No, no, he left only minutes ago actually, I was just-” he looked at his nearly empty whisky glass, “-just finishing up my drink and I’ll head out.”

“Who?” Red asked, as if she had any idea the type of friends Charles had. The only reason she asked was because the leather seat she was on was cold against the back of her legs and that wouldn’t be the case if someone was just sitting here. Nor were there any water marks or signs that a second glass had been placed on the bar top. 

The likelihood of Charles sitting alone at a bar for a few hours was low, but she was still curious about what he got up to tonight.

“A friend from my karting days,” Charles answered, folding his arms over the surface of the bar as his eyes met hers again. “He lives in Milan, so we try to meet up when I’m here.”

Red’s eyebrows furrowed together as she gestured with her chin to the lobby of the hotel, “Earlier you said he was staying here.”

“He is!” Charles exclaimed. “Sorry, I meant he lives in Italy. He’s staying at this hotel this weekend.”

She wanted to believe him, this would be a strange thing to lie about.

But Red reminded herself that she and Charles were still strangers. If he was in fact lying about meeting a friend and was instead on a date with someone, which was her guess, it would be unlikely he would jump at the chance to tell her, probably wanting to keep the potential relationship private as most of his life was in the public eye.

“How was your date?” Charles asked, spinning the conversation around on her. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice the way her jaw tensed before her gaze landed on the row of bottles that lined the shelf behind the bar. Eye contact was not her thing. 

“Yeah, it was good,” Red told him, knowing that he was friends with Pierre. Nothing she said was safe, or at least that’s what she assumed.

“Just good?” Charles further questioned, spinning the glass between his fingers. 

“Pierre’s nice,” Red added with a head nod, but it sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that as opposed to telling Charles what he already knew. “I had a fun time, we’ll see how the second date goes I guess.”

“Second date?” he repeated, not intending for the surprise to be so evident in his tone. He cleared his throat, “He already lined up a second date?”

Red nodded, her line of sight darted from the bar to the gold rings she wore on her fingers, spinning the one on her thumb out of habit. She struggled sitting still, Charles realised. In the back of his head he wondered if Pierre had noticed it too.

Charles leaned in closer to her, “This may not be my place to say anything, but you don’t seem to be too pleased about a second date.”

Was it that obvious? Red planted a smile on her face and looked up from her hands, ignoring the way Charles was staring through her like he was trying to read her mind.

“I’m just tired, is all. I haven’t really let myself think about the next date yet,” that was believable, she told herself. It had to be. 

Charles turned his wrist to look at the time on his watch and nodded. He then gestured towards the hotel, “I’m about to head out too, but I can walk you to the elevator, if you’d like.”

Red nodded, finding his offer to be harmless enough. Charles finished the rest of his drink before tossing a few bills on the counter and thanking the bartender with a wave and a smile. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets as they crossed the floor to leave the restaurant and enter the lobby. It wasn’t quiet, but it was certainly more lively during the day as there were a handful of team members from all series’ who stayed at this hotel.

“So you’ll be at the paddock all weekend?” Charles asked. 

“Yeah, I’ll fly home Sunday though. I’m not staying for the F1 race.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t get passes for it. I only have them for the support races.” she turned her head towards him, a soft smile playing on her lips. 

The hotel lobby light was not ideal for anyone, but it made Red’s features much more prominent, whether she liked it or not. Charles didn’t know whether to look at her bold lashes or the freckles that couldn’t be covered with makeup or the way the corner of her lips turning upwards contrasted with the uncertainty in her eyes. Her smile was polite, it was warm, but it was also forced.

Charles was nearly about to offer her a pass to the paddock, lord knew he had a few of them lying around, perks of being a driver. But before he could say anything, the step up towards the elevators snuck up on them and Red stumbled to catch her balance as her heel caught on the platform.

He reached for her arm and his other hand hovered in front of her, ready to assist if needed but Red laughed it off and apologised, swearing that she usually wasn’t this clumsy, it was the heels.

His grip on her arm loosened and he trailed his fingers down to her wrist and then to her palm. Red’s hand gently rested on top of his as he helped her step up onto the platform. Charles’ pressed the elevator button for her and both of their arms fell back down to their sides.

He waited until the doors opened to wish her a goodnight. The idea of inviting her to the paddock on Sunday slipped his mind as he was now only thinking about what it would take to feel her hand in his again.

Red waved at the Monegasque driver, holding his stare until the steel doors shut between them. Only then did she feel safe enough to take a breath and lean against the wall, her gaze dropping to the hand that Charles held for only a moment.

She didn’t feel a spark with Pierre.

But Charles’ touch lit a fire under her skin.

can't wait to hear your thoughts ♡

[queeny-v]

Did I start up a new game of Stardew Valley within the past month and create a farmer OC (her name is Rudy) with the intent to date/marry Haley after “Good Luck, Babe!” By Chappell Roan made Haley super popular in the SDV fandom?….maybe…👀

(Also I married Haley in the game before it was cool 😝)

[thewritingofspencerrose]

Pierre

Pierre Gasly x OC

a.n. okay, so i usually don't have a thing for pierre but for some reason i felt inspired? probably because i was listening to the song pierre by ryn weaver. enjoy! (a heads up that the timeline for the F1 season is off, but it's for the plot, promise)

a.n. II : thoughts on a second part to this? i just wanted to get this out and feel out if there's any interest...

song lyrics are bold & italic

may 2023

liked by maeve.mcd, someone_else, and 227 others

this.is.diana took on the fourth of july, i met a man, pierre, lied about his age, but i didn't care, spoke in broken english but the heart was there a little too seriously

maeve.mcd i- di what did you do

this.is.diana *who did i do is the better question

this.is.diana and yeah i don't have an answer for that

maeve.mcd live, love, miami, florida?

f1fan pierre? miami? hmm...

"Di, it's not that bad, I pro-"

"Mae, my love, I was stupid enough to have sex with a stranger named Pierre and now I haven't had my period in 2 months," I can't help but remind, head in my hands. "And now I'm sitting here on the edge of the tub waiting for a timer to go off."

"Okay, so it is bad," She admits, leaning over from where she sits next to me, wrapping me in her arms. "But no matter the result, you have me. And your mom. And we will do everything we can to find this Pierre man on the little info you have," She assures, bringing on the tears.

"I hate you."

"I love you too," She returns, the ringer going off and ruining our moment.

"What's it say?" I can't help but ask upon hearing her silence.

"Looks like you're going to be a hot mom earlier than expected, Di."

september 2023

liked by maeve.mcd, dianasmom, and 279 others

this.is.diana woke up with somebody when the morning came back in july, and now i can happily announce that i am expecting a mini me in february 2024!

in the mean time, if anyone knows a man named pierre, says he's 22 but is actually 26, french, with blue eyes and was in miami in may, please dm me, I just want to talk :)

maeve.mcd my gorgeous gorgeous best friend and adorable god child bump

this.is.diana i love you so much

f1fan okay this may be a stretch but i saw your post in may and now i'm seeing this one and formula one raced in miami in may and there's a French driver named pierregasly

this.is.diana just looked at his page, thank you for the info sweetie!

f1fan anytime! hope this helps and congrats on your baby!

unknown is calling: accept call or decline call?

[green-thots]

Life Waster - CL16 x FemDriver!Reader - Chapter One

Masterlist Next

Authors Note: This took me absolutely forever because I spent more time thinking and watching edits of Charles on TikTok than I did doing actual writing. There’s probably a lot of typos and grammar mistakes so just ignore that. Additionally, any feedback is much appreciated!

Warnings: Swearing, slight mention of death, mentions of weed, if I missed any please tell me

—

A Grammy and Rock Sound feature was always the goal, but shit happens I guess. Life was great, we were selling out stadiums and on the verge of our first world tour; then he died and everything fell apart. Formula 1 was always Dad’s dream, not mine, but I think a piece of me died along with him, and I threw myself into racing to fill the JJ-sized hole in my heart. All I was left with was a hard drive of the songs we had written over the years and a letter telling me to go kick some ass. I dove headfirst into the depths of uncertainty and somehow still made it out on top.

“Ms. L/N, we’re here.” The driver calls from the front seat, looking at me in skepticism through the rear view mirror.

I mutter in thanks as I open the car door and step out toward the doors of the front office, backpack in tow. The only directions left for me in the email were to head to the front office in the morning and someone would guide me from there. There’s a lady at the desk with black glasses perched atop her nose as she tapped away at her computer. She barely acknowledges me at first, but after a few seconds of standing there, she looks up at me.

”Oh, hello,” She says with a kind smile, “What can I help you with?”

“Uh, I’m Y/N L/N. I was told that someone would meet me at the front office.” I naw the inside of my cheek, slightly terrified at the new environment.

”Oh, yes. We’ve been expecting you,” If possible, her smile grows wider and she picks up the receiver of the phone, beginning to dial a number, “I’ll call down and let Mr. Horner know that you’ve arrived.”

We sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments, before she starts to speak into the phone. “Hi, Christian. Ms. L/N is down at the office.” She pauses while the other person on the phone speaks. “Okay, thank you, buh-bye.”

”April is on her way down to get you and give you a tour,” she says, her French accent much more prominent than it was before. “In the meantime, I’ll get you all set up.”

She digs around below her desk for a moment, before finally popping up and setting a keycard on a red lanyard with the words ‘driver’s pass’ on the desk in front of me. “This is your temporary pass, you’ll get a new one with your picture on it after media and such is done, but for now this is going to get you wherever you need to go on the property.”

“Thank you,” I say with a nod, as a tall girl in a Red Bull Racing jacket walks through the door to the right.

The lady at the desk smiles at the other girl and says, “I’m Susie and I’ll always be here for whatever you need. Trust me, those boys can be a handful.”

I force a smile at her, praying it looks genuine enough because I knew what kind of shit storm I was walking into and still signed the contract anyway, like an idiot.

The tall girl holds out her hand to me and says, “Lovely to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.” She talks fast and barely gives herself a second to breathe before continuing. “I’m April, and I’ll be your personal trainer, assistant, therapist, honestly just whatever you might need while you’re here with the Red Bull teams.”

There’s a hint of humor to her voice so I try to let out a laugh, but it’s hard when I’ve spent the last year or so wallowing in self pity.

“I know this whole experience is much different than F2 and I hate to rush you while you take it in but we do have to get started with the tour so you can meet Mr. Horner before he leaves for his debrief.” April says, grabbing her own pass off her neck, which instead says ‘staff’ and turns toward the door she came through before.

“If I would have known I was meeting important people today I would have worn something nicer than a hoodie.” I grumble to myself.

April must have heard me because she wiggles her finger at me with a smirk on her face and says, “You’re funny, I like you.”

We walk in silence out into the parking lot between the front building and the massive team building. April asks, “Do you have a car over here yet?”

”No, I haven’t really got around to that yet.” I reply, taking in the view of all the sports cars lined up that probably cost more than the house I grew up in each.

“Oh, well when you do, this is driver parking. Most guys tend to keep a car at their homes here rather than taking a cab since it’s a lot of back and forth.” She gestures to all of the cars parked in front of their respective sections. “The guard over at the side gate will buzz you in 24/7 if you just show him your pass.”

“Good to know.” I say as we walk up to the two glass doors with the Red Bull logo painted above.

The opening lounge is small, but still gives a feeling of comfort, rather than sterile like the front office. There are trophies lining the shelves on the walls and two World Champion trophies are held in a glass case front and center.

“Your home base is actually in the Alpha Tauri section next door but the team is meeting here for the sake of simplicity.” April says, throwing a smile at me over her shoulder as she turns left down the hallway.

She stops at a door labeled ‘boardroom’ and winks at me saying, “They aren’t as scary as they seem.”

Well that’s comforting.

April knocks twice and opens the door to reveal to reveal four guys seated around the table; two of which dressed head to toe in Red Bull gear as if they just stepped out of a commercial, one of which in a full suit, and the shortest one dressed as if he had just woken from a nap.

“Mr. Horner, this is Y/N.” April says, gesturing to me as I step into the room behind her. I’ve never met Christian Horner outside of a five minute phone call but I can only assume who he is as the man in the suit stands up and holds out his hand to me.

”Y/N L/N, it's so great to finally meet you in person.” Christian says, shaking my hand. “Unfortunately I do have to get going because the engineers can get quite pissy when things are behind schedule, but I suppose you know all about that from Formula 2, right?”

”Yeah, my team had quite the attitude.” I say, trying to sound funny but somehow sounding like the uptight bitches I used to race with back in F3.

“Anyways,” he says, still keeping up his diplomatic smile. “Boys, this is Y/N L/N, the new driver for Alpha Tauri. I’ll let you all introduce yourselves.”

Christian excuses himself and heads out the door, leaving me with April, who is still somewhat of a stranger, and the three men who I have only ever seen on TV.

The first guy stands up and gives me a smile that could light up even the darkest of rooms, “I’m Daniel Riccardo, I actually drive for Red Bull but we’ll probably still see a lot of each other.” He points at the guy next to him and continues. “Mr. Two Time World Champ over here is Max Verstappen, I assume you know who he drives for.”

Max nods at me and says, “Welcome to the team, Y/N.” His Dutch accent very prominent.

Finally, Daniel turns to the guy at the end of the table, “Last but certainly not least, the little firecracker over there is Yuki Tsunoda.”

Yuki rolls his eyes at the nickname and starts, “Hey, I’ll be driving on Alpha Tauri with you.”

”Firecracker as in his favorite English word is fuck and he sure knows how to use it,” April chimes in, a near permanent smile stuck to her face.

Yuki smiles and laughs quietly as Max says, “I trust April will get you all ready for media day tomorrow.”

”I was really hoping I was done with photoshoots but I guess even a change in career didn’t help with that.” I say, still not fully believing that this wasn’t a dream and I’m actually in Formula 1.

“Well, we better continue with our tour and let the boys get back to whatever work I know they are trying to avoid.” April says, eyeing Daniel with a knowing look as she opens the door to the hall.

“See y’all tomorrow,” I say, looking back at the group of guys staring at me. I then follow April out the door, a chorus of goodbyes yelled behind me.

April leads me back outside and then through the glass doors to the Alpha Tauri section. She finally stops once we reach a door that had already been labeled with my last name.

”This is your drivers room,” She says, opening the door to a plain room with a couch and a small vanity, “Feel free to decorate however you see fit.”

I can already visualize my plans for the room; some scenic pictures to hang on the walls, a few comfy blankets to throw on the couch for naps in between meetings, and maybe a cute rug to cover up the concrete floor.

April gestures to the closet next to the vanity, “Your fireproofs, suit, helmet, and any other gear you may have ordered are in the closet.”

Set on the vanity is a vase of flowers with a card tucked under the vase. I step over and pick up the card, carefully tearing open the envelope, and reading it. Inside are the words, ‘Welcome to The Grid, Y/N’ and it seems to have been signed by every driver on The Grid.

”I think they’re trying to make a good impression on the first female competitor they’ve seen in a long time; you might even be the first for the newer ones.” April says, looking over my shoulder.

“Well it takes a lot more to impress me than flowers, I mean even my freshman prom date bought me flowers.” I say, laughing at their attempt to soften me up.

”Your garage is right down the hall and it's labeled so you’ll be able to find it easily. Sadly, we can’t go in today, but you’ll get to see the car on Wednesday when you meet your engineer and we start the first round of pre-season practices.” April says, leaning up against the closet, “You’ll have to be ready to go for media in the main building with all your gear tomorrow at 1:00 but feel free to get ready here.”

”Well at least I’ll get to sleep off some of this jet lag,” I joke.

”That’s the spirit, take every moment you get to sleep, it’ll help.” April says, rubbing her hands together as she continues, “Now, we go meet the Athletic Trainer for a pee test and your first physical.”

Well I guess that means no more pot for me.

-

I flop face first down onto my bed, well if it can really be considered a bed. Right now I’m just sleeping on a mattress on the floor of my apartment. I haven’t had the time or energy to unpack so everything is just sitting around in boxes, and the furniture I did buy, has yet to be built or unboxed.

My physical lasted much longer than I had anticipated; the strength testing and medical assessments taking up much of the rest of the day. The six hour time difference is really beginning to take a toll on me and I am nearly asleep when my phone buzzes next to me.

Dad: Your mom showed up at my doorstep, screaming that you were nowhere to be found. Care to explain?

Fuck that. I’ll deal with him in the morning.

-

As I stand before the mirror, dressed in my race suit with my hair loosely curled and my makeup freshly done, I have to take slow, deep breaths to keep my heart from beating out of my chest. All eyes are going to be on me today because the first woman on The Grid in nearly ten years is sure to be a spectacle for the other drivers and staff. I should be used to having people stare at me. Hell, I spent years performing on stage in front of massive crowds. But my ‘fall from grace’ as the Rock world has dubbed it, has caused me to hate the constant stares of others. Formula 1 might not have been the best choice of career, but I need to take back the piece of my childhood that I cherished dearly.

My phone dings from its place on the vanity;

April: We’re nearly ready to start shooting, so get over here as soon as you can :)

If these guys have managed to find anything about who I was years ago, I’m sure their opinions of me are already set in stone, but I still can’t let holding up the order of business lead them to think I’m inconsiderate to everyone else’s schedule.

I speed-walk my way out of the Alpha Tauri building and over to the main building, carrying my helmet just in case I need it for a photo.

When I enter the room where the cameras were being set up, all the drivers were huddled around in little circles. The lively colors of each team’s uniform were intermixed, showing that they all must get along well. If they don’t like me, it seems that I’ll be spending the majority of the next year alone.

With the spectacular luck that life has given me, the door is extremely squeaky, causing everyone to look up at me. Immediately, Max waves me over to the group he was standing with.

Hesitantly, I walk over and the tall blonde guy in the Mercedes uniform eyes me with a smile.

”Well you look scared shitless,” He says, the slightly devious but still kind smirk present on his face.

”Don’t be a dick, George,” The French one next to him says as he elbows George in the stomach, “I’m Pierre. Don’t mind him, he’s always like that.”

”Hey, I’m not that bad,” George throws back, giving Pierre a slight shove. The other guys laugh at their antics, so I force out a little laugh.

I barely get another second to listen to their introductions before a staff member calls out, “L/N, you’re up first! Tsunoda, you’re on deck!” I send an awkward wave to the group as I walk over to where the cameras are set up.

”Alright, we’ll need you to fill out the first day of F1 board.” The staff member says, passing a chalkboard to me.

I begin to fill it out.

Name: Well that’s easy.

Season: #1

I Am From: Miami, FL

My Fave Food Is: Mac & Cheese

My Hype Song Is:…

I’m tempted to put one of my songs here, but I think I’ll make them work harder to discover that piece of me.

My Hype Song Is: Gimme Gimme Gimme - Abba

This Year I Will: Kick ass.

I stand in front of the camera as the photographer snaps a few photos of me with the board. Again, everyone in the room is staring at me.

”Hey Logan, we found you a Floridian!” George calls out in the direction of the blonde in the Williams Racing suit.

Tall blonde- who must be Logan- gives me a bright smile and calls out, “we gotta represent, girly!”

I actually let out a laugh at this as a staff member takes the board from me and sets me up for the headshots. Not knowing what the usual protocol for Formula 1 headshots is, I give the camera a light smile.

I can feel someone staring at me intently, as if they look hard enough they could see the deepest parts of my soul. When I look over to the area behind the camera where all the drivers are standing around, I immediately see Mr. Laser Eyes.

He’s partly concealed by the shadows but his dark eyes still bare into my soul. His hair is a dark and curly mess, like he’s just gotten out of bed; but damn does he make bedhead look good. He’s dressed in an almost too tight Ferrari suit. He towers over Tsunoda, but that isn’t too hard to achieve.

We hold eye contact for a few seconds; it's almost magnetic, before he shifts his eyes back to the conversation he was having with Pierre and George.

“Okay, that’s all we needed,” The photographer says, motioning me off the stool as he calls for Tsunoda.

I walk back over to Pierre, George, and the Ferrari driver who had been staring at me. Immediately, he looks me up and down with a smirk before saying, “Good choice of music, rookie.”

My face heats up, and I’m sure I look like a walking tomato. “Yeah, Momma Mia is my favorite musical.” I say quietly.

George and Pierre start snickering to themselves quietly as the Ferrari driver says, “I’m Charles Leclerc.”

Even his accent is fucking sexy.

“Y/N L/N.” I reply.

”Don’t worry, everyone knows your name already.” Charles says with a little laugh. This puts a look of fear and shock on my face.

”In two weeks time, everyone in the world is going to know your name.” George says, throwing his arm over my shoulder.

”Yeah that makes me feel a lot better, thanks Princess.” I spit back sarcastically, using the well-known nickname the media has given George in recent years. Pierre cackles hysterically, so much so that he struggles to catch his breath.

After a bit of throwing sarcastic insults back-and-forth with George, and him taking his turn for headshots, individual pictures are complete.

“Wait, we have to get a group picture of this years’ rookies!” Max calls, a devious smile on his face as he looks in my direction. I roll my eyes as I walk over in front of the camera and am joined by Logan and the blonde McLaren driver.

“I’m Oscar,” the McLaren driver says and he and Logan stand on either side of me. We put our arms around each other's shoulders “to show unity” as the photographer told us. The three of us gave bright smiles to the camera, trying to show that Formula 1 isn’t as scary as it seems when in reality, all of us are terrified to step out onto that track for the first time.

“Alright, lets get all of the drivers out here now.” The photographer says after snapping. Few photos of Logan, Oscar, and I. Immediately, the staff get to work on moving a bunch of prop boxes out into the studio as all the drivers flood the area. I’m directed by the photographer to sit on the tallest box, which I do have to get a running start to jump up on, and lean back on my hands with my legs crossed.

After a few moments of getting everyone else into position, the photographer finally gives us the signal to get our game faces on. Noticing that no one else is smiling at the camera, I tilt my head back a bit and glare at the camera. Although I am the highest up and the farthest back, I’m sure you will still be able to pick up my noticeable annoyance by looking at me in the photo.

“Everyone is free to go!” A lady, who I’m assuming is the head of media, yelled into the crowd of drivers. As everyone disperses, I’m speed walking to the door as to get out of there as quickly as possible, when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I whip around to see George, Pierre, Oscar, Logan, and a few other drivers I haven’t formally met yet.

George looks at me with puppy eyes as he says, “We’re going out to get drinks, do you want to come with?”

They’re all staring at me intently, waiting for my reply.

”I can’t. I actually haven’t even unpacked my stuff yet and the furniture for my apartment hasn’t been built yet so I better get on that.” I say, avoiding eye contact so I don’t have to see the disappointed looks on their faces.

”What if we help you unpack?” The British, curly-haired boy asks, before saying with a wink. “Lando Norris, at your service. Do you have booze?”

I freeze up, not expecting them to want to change their plans to hang out with me so soon after meeting them. “I mean I guess, but my fridge is completely empty, so no booze.”

”Eh, we’ll just make Max pick some up on his way,” Lando says, waving it off while George yells, “Fuck yeah, party time!” Leading the entire room to burst into laugher.

Well, this is either going to end in losing my security deposit or getting so drunk that I won’t remember what embarrassing shit I’m sure to do by tomorrow morning.

[grlsbstshot]

NEON LIGHTS

Pairing (Original Characters): Jameson Lucas (Aaron Pierre) x Imani St. Cirie (Megan thee Stallion) Story Synopsis: 

R&B singer/songwriter, Jameson Lucas, is well known as a charming playboy. The latest in his line of ‘loved em and left em’ behavior? Imani St. Cirie, an emotive singer/songwriter herself. A common sense pulls them in opposite directions – friendships are tested, old flames resurface, and new opportunities threaten to tear them apart for good. In this industry, dreams can make or break you – but what happens when love becomes the gamble of a lifetime?

Chapter Synopsis: Jameson deals with being denied access to his heart's desire and flashes back to the start of their romance while Imani wrestles with her feelings present day. Warnings: Smut (18+), toxic relationship, possessiveness, profanity, usage of the n-word (if you're white and read it, you owe us $20), manual stimulation (fingering, okay?), dick size mention, dirty talk -- if we missed anything, let us know! Word Count: 5.3k // Divider Template: @cafekitsune Notes: The following characters are original creations. Their voice claims are Usher / Lucky Daye (Jameson) & Summer Walker / SZA (Imani). We have no affiliation to any of those artists.

There will be alternating POVs between our leads.

CHAPTER II: Someone to Love

he was blocked. jameson watched his repeated texts and calls go unanswered. the texts said delivered but never read. this was when he was supposed to decide if he was going to stick around for another round of bullshit with her. flashes of the night before came to mind...and he knew the answer was 'yes'. she was ignoring the fuck out of him but he knew imani loved him. she may be able to live without him...but she loved him. maybe that would be enough. "yo, are you listening to me?"

jameson blinked at his best friend, giving the man a blank stare. ellington dupree had been his friend and writing partner for damn near a decade. their connection was instant. where jameson was blessed with a wealthy and well-known mother, ellington had gotten it out the mud. he was a man that knew music inside out all his life. he had a work ethic that jameson envied. it was why he only produced music with ej -- they balanced each other out. where he allowed muse to take over, ej controlled the music. he didn't let it control him. even now, they were supposed to be working on a track from his new album but jameson couldn't seem to find his focus. all he did was wait for imani to call him back.

"yeah, i heard you." "then what i say?"

he gave ellington a glare before rising from his spot on the couch. "something about the horns." ellington tsked, kicking back in his chair before shaking his head. "i said that shit ten minutes ago, nigga. we on a whole nother track. what's up with you?"

jameson didn't answer -- instead he redirected his attention to his phone, texting imani again as he exited his friend's home studio. he heard ej calling his name but descended the stairs anyway.

he watched as another text went through and the message popped up delivered. jameson rolled his eyes, tossing his phone onto the couch as he stared at the ceiling with his hands on his hips. this girl was going drive him crazy.

"are you insane?" "i'm not in the mood right now, e." "yeah, no shit. but you need to get in the mood for something other than imani. YOU wanted to release this album at the top of the year. YOU said you were ready so they've already started promoting the shit."

he lifted his head to deny that he was stressing over imani but the realization hit him hard. "how the fuck you know i was texting mani?" jameson watched as ej rolled his eyes and made himself comfortable on the couch. "how the fuck wouldn't i know? you always get tense and weird over her. it's been a while since she had you fucked up like this though. what happened?"

jameson sighed, closing his eyes to avoid the look on his friend's face when he confessed the truth. he sat down opposite ej and leaned back onto the cushions.

"we fucked." "bullshit." "it's true." "WHEN?!" "last week." "i thought she was dating...what's that nigga name? the football nigga!" "they broke up two months ago." "how the fuck you know that?" jameson gave ej a look and avoided the obvious answer. "oh, you are insane." "it was random. we didn't plan that shit." "she probably didn't." "and what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" "fuck it sound like?"

his eyes opened as he frowned at ej. if anyone had seen how bad it could get between he and imani, it was ej. "i didn't go over there to have sex, man. i just...i wanted to see her. i've missed her all this time. i just couldn't take that shit anymore."

a flash of sympathy crossed his best friend's face but it disappeared within a moment. "don't do this, jamie. don't. you can't walk down this road with imani again."

ej was probably right, jameson knew that. but he also knew that he wasn't walking away from her again. he glanced over at the phone that he abandoned, willing it to ring or beep or something. anything to let him know she gave a shit. "can't help it." he murmured to his best friend. "i want her."

this was the biggest night of his life...and he found that he didn't care. his gaze was stuck on a woman who had walked past him. none of this shit really mattered anymore. he wanted to know her. he had a tony award. he had two grammys already. he was nominated for another three that night but as he leaned over in his seat to watch her saunter down the rest of the aisle, jameson found himself smiling for entirely different reasons.

"i want her." he said bluntly. only ej acknowledged him. he said 'huh?' but his gaze followed her the same way jameson's had. 'ohhhh' was all he uttered, giving a laugh.

she had her back to them so he had no idea who the hell she was but he had the urge to. four awards from his own and he wasn't watching the stage. he wasn't talking to his collaborators or friends to the right of him. he was watching her. a couple of people rose to let her into her seat and jameson found himself doing the same. he stood to his feet, adjusting his tux's jacket as he made his way towards her.

ej called his name but he didn't respond. this was more important. he got to the aisle and dropped to his haunches, learning forward to catch her eye. he recognized her then. imani. there were people next to her who peered over at him in confusion but jameson's smile was only for her. 

"excuse me." he said softly, bracing his hands against the seat next to him. she looked at him, eyebrow quirked at his audacity to interrupt her conversation. "hi. i just...i'm sorry. i just wanted to come tell you something you already know. you're the most beautiful woman i've ever seen in my life."

if she recognized him or was impressed by his attention, it didn't show on her face. jameson watched her give a little laugh and haughtily respond. "thank you." she said. "how many other women have you used that on tonight?"

"none." he replied honestly. "i saw you and next thing i know, i'm over here practically on my knees to talk to you." jameson ignored the woman next to imani clearing her throat. it was a public conversation but he carried it on as if they were the only two in the room. free from a relationship that had lost it's fire, jameson hadn't been looking for anybody. he wanted to invest in his career again and after two hit albums -- it was time for something new. money, cars, clothes, and women had been his life since he was eighteen and old enough to spread the thighs of any and every woman in hollywood. he'd been over it. but this was important. getting this girl felt like it'd be life changing.

he leaned forward, offering the woman his hand. "i'm jameson." he surprised himself by giving his full name. often, he introduced himself as james. nobody actually in his life called him jameson but his mother. he had the urge to hear his name from her lips. "i know who you are, ms. imani st. cirie. future best new artist winner." her eyes lit up at the fact that he had recognized her. she hadn't topped the charts yet but he knew it was a matter of time. her music was raw. real. she touched people and he knew her time was coming.

when she took his hand, he brushed his thumb against the back of her fingertips. the people they had their hands stretched across didn't matter. hell, he had forgotten other people could hear them when she responded. "nice to meet you jameson." she said. "you can call me ms. st. cirie. your face looks so familiar. i just can't put my finger on it."

jameson laughed out loud -- loud enough that people on the aisle in front of them turned to identify the sound. he'd been famous from birth. paparazzi shots of him hanging off his mother's hip had been tagged in people magazine. pictures of them at the park. his high school yearbook had been blasted across myspace and twitter. and when he started making music himself? well, he became a teen heartthrob at 19. he didn't believe her but he liked that she didn't fall over him. "that's strange." he replied with a shrug, slowly grinning at her. "but since you can't remember, maybe this is your chance to get to know me...personally. i'll be honest, ms. st. cirie -- i'm dying to get to know you."

her gaze roamed his face but her lips curved into a smile. "and why should i do that?"

"i heard i'm a good time." "and this is where the line of women come in, yes?" "we're not talking about other women. we're talking about you and me, ms. st. cirie."

imani gave her friend a look and the friend automatically rose, shifting down a seat. her gaze came back to him and she nodded her head, wordlessly giving him approval to sit next to her. jameson rose from his position at the end of the aisle, ignoring the ache in his calves and thighs. he'd been squatting for so long but hadn't noticed it. all he saw was the fact that he was making strides towards what he wanted.

"you don't feel this thing between us?" he asked her curiously. somehow, he had sat without losing contact with her for longer than a few seconds. he switched the positioning, holding her hand in his right. she tsked, yanking her hand from his grasp and shook her head. "i don't feel anything. i just think you're funny."

jameson leaned towards her, keeping his voice low enough so that it would take others effort to eavesdrop on their conversation. "i could tell you shit you already know. that you're the most beautiful woman i've ever seen. that i want you so bad i don't really know what to do with myself. would that help? i want you. and from the way you look at me, i think you want me too. so what are we going to do about it?"

"that was a good line, jameson." "i'm not giving you lines. i'm trying to get you where you need to be." "need to be?" "definitely." "you so fucking cocky." "i got reason to be. ms. st. cirie...will you go out with me?" "you don't give up, do you?" "no. not easily."

he could tell that she liked that. despite giving him a hell of a lot of attitude, her fingers fidgeted nervously on her lap. she either liked him or didn't know how to say no. jameson reached for her hand again, gently stilling her fingertips. she didn't seem alarmed or afraid then. she relaxed before meeting his gaze.

"no pressure. i think you're beautiful. i admire your mind. your music. your talent. give me one chance to show you that." determined to not miss out on the good thing sitting right next to him, jameson did his best to show her he was serious...but he took a risk and lowered his head, pressing a kiss to her thumb -- the first contact between them that wasn't totally innocent.

his gaze flickered up to hers and he knew he had her. she went soft, leaning in as if she were going to let him kiss her -- but she remembered where they were. "And the Grammy for Best R&B Performance goes to...U Don't Have to Call! James Lucas!"

jameson didn't move from his seat. he didn't take his eyes off her. imani looked between him and the stage, expecting him to go up but he didn't. this was more important. eventually, ej got up. his best friend gave the speech that jameson likely would have given but he didn't hear the words. imani leaned closer so he could near her, whispering "okay. one date." against his ear.

jameson smiled, turning his head to offer imani a kiss. not even twenty minutes after meeting and he was going for it. he had always been an ambitious man. just as he hoped, she took him up on the offer. she leaned in and their lips met. it was brief but served as the spark that ignited their obsession with each other.

it took two whole weeks for their schedules to line up. photoshoots, interviews, and a sudden trip to new york had kept him from what he really wanted. anticipation had been a bitch but they filled the time in between with texts and phone calls. he had discovered that imani was both smart and funny. she could make him burst out laughing over the smallest thing. she seemed to be a good person and that appealed to him. he seemed to really be into this girl. so much so that he browsed her instagram, constantly looking for things she liked. what flowers she enjoyed. people she liked having conversation with. knowing little things about her had spiraled into wanting to know everything about her. he was down so bad that ej had been disgusted when he walked into studio in the middle of the night and caught him giggling on the phone with her like a teenager.

finally, they got to see each other again. standing alone in the vastness of the getty museum, he and imani kept their fingertips intertwined. the only sounds were the soft echo of their footsteps on polished floors. The museum had been closed for the night, but the director had made an exception just for them — a private tour. No crowds, no distractions. Just the two of them and all the art they'd agreed to pretend they were paying attention to. jameson's kept straying to her. everything about her was mesmerizing. the way her hair fell into her eyes, the cute little way she'd snuggled into him when he hugged her when he met her outside. the sweet way she swung their hands as they walked. he was gone over this girl and didn't know what to do about it.

“so,” she said, breaking the silence with a teasing tone, “you go to museums all the time or is this just to impress me?”

he glanced around, his eyes glinting with amusement. “it's all for you. you got me stalking your instagram to see what you like. i saw you went to several museums around the world so..." he shrugged, looking at her to see she was surprised at what he'd said. “but what do you like?” she asked him. jameson laughed. "you." he answered easily enough.

she fell silent again as they continued on. the views of los angeles almost as magnificent as the art. they entered a gallery that seemed to be a study in light and shadow, with large, dramatic sculptures. he was comfortable even in the silence with her. felt like they were the only people in the world, the art surrounding them like a secret they were sharing, just the two of them.

“i think i like you too.” imani said softly. her tone didn't hold the same teasing as before. she was serious. jameson dipped his head to get a good look at her and stopped walking to face her. "why do you sound so sad when you say that?"

"because i don't know if i can trust you." imani said softly. jameson couldn't promise to be the picture of fidelity. he'd cheated once before in a relationship but that didn't seem to be the best thing to say to a woman you wanted to be with. "you can trust how i feel about you. i swear -- i have never felt like this in my life. you got me kicking my feet and twirling my hair and shit, girl. i got it bad." she gave him a short laugh, shaking her head, but he was pleased to see her smile again. "you gave me a chance for a date now give me a chance to show you that i want to be your man."

"my man? you moving kind of fast, ain't you?" "hell yeah. i'm trying to lock you down before a billionaire prince pull up on you out of nowhere." "you can't compete with a billionaire?" "absolutely not. i can't buy you a private island." "then what good are you?" "i can sing. i'm good looking. i give good dick. which reason work for you?"

"boy, bye!" imani pulled away, laughing abruptly as she waved him off. jameson followed closely, not wanting her to go too far from him. "where you going?" he asked her, holding on to her hand. imani snorted, pointing at the art across the room. "over there because you playing!" jameson's laughter echoed through the space and joined hers as she tried to shake him off. "nahhhh. come play with me over here."

her smile deepened, a challenge flickering in her eyes. "i'll play with you later." jameson stepped closer to her, pulling her close. "i'ma hold you to that." even in heels, she stood a few inches shorter than he was. he couldn't get over how fucking beautiful she was. pretty ass dark brown eyes. pretty ass nose that lead down to full, gorgeous lips. he couldn't even think about her body. he liked everything about this girl and acting like he didn't wasn't possible.

his hand moved to the small of her back, fingertips splayed as he kept her body against his. "you hungry?" imani nodded her head, her hands braced against his shoulders. jameson moved them side to side, swaying even though there was no music playing. "i got you. let me take care of you."

they ate dinner in the museum, specially made by a private chef --totally surrounded by art. jameson was pleased to see that she was excited. he was just as giddy. imani sat on his lap as they traded stories about work, their inspirations, and what they each wanted out of a relationship. they found they had several things in common -- big things and little things. family relationships, foods, even their favorite Disney movie. it was all the same. jameson wasn't the type to believe in love at first sight but he really did start to wonder if god put this woman in his life for a reason.

they left holding hands. he let her slide into his benz, intent on driving her home to complete an evening of being the perfect gentleman. the drive to her malibu home was filled with jokes, conversation, and singing along to songs on the radio. the tension between them remained but it was joined by comfort. they were truly starting to understand each other.

by the time they arrived to her place, he had made up his mind. he was going to give it all he had. he liked imani st. cirie -- and hopefully, she liked him too.

the warmth of the car enveloped them as jameson slid to a stop in front of her home. the chemistry between them made saying goodbye difficult. he didn't want to say goodnight to her. jameson turned the car off, attempting to gather his thoughts. he didn't want the last thing he said to her to be stupid. when he turned to say something -- he found imani was already staring.

it was like they moved at the same time. he unbuckled his seatbelt and before he could say a word, she had done the same. the world outside faded away as he damn near crowded her in the passenger seat. he could feel her heart race, each beat echoing in his head. he leaned in, their lips meeting briefly, before he heard her panting.

the kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if they were both savoring the sweetness of their new attraction. But soon, it deepened—hunger replaced hesitation. their lips moved in a rhythm that felt both familiar and foreign, pulling them deeper into each other's orbit.

imani moaned as his tongue found hers and jameson couldn't believe how good it sounded. he placed his hand against her thigh, grasping tightly as if he could pull her any closer. the middle console kept them further apart than he wanted them to be. when her hand came down and pulled his fingers higher up her thigh, jameson didn't hesitate.

her hands framed his face, thumb gently brushing his cheek as they kissed. his hand moved further up her thigh, brushing against the silk fabric of her dress. when the pad of his thumb brushed against her panties, she gasped.

it felt like an eternity before she caught her breath and gave him a quick moan. with expertise, jameson swept her underwear aside and pressed his thumb between her folds. she was already wet and made it easy for him to wedge his finger into her. imani's lips parted in surprise when he pressed against her. jameson took the opportunity to bite her lower lip -- brushing his tongue against it as her thighs tightened around his hand.

"i can't make you moan like that again if you don't keep your legs open. let me in." he whispered when he released her lip, pleased when imani immediately opened her legs for him. she reached down and pulled her dress higher, hips rising from the seat as she did so. he caught a flash of the thongs she wore as she pressed her ass to his leather seats.

they were both breathless, not taking the time to go inside her house or even move to the back seat. imani reached for him again, pulling his head across the space and kissing him deeply as jameson's hand went right back between her legs. she whimpered and moaned as he played with her clit -- teasing them both by thumbing and then circling the sensitive spot. by the time she was whining against his mouth, his dick was hard.

to his surprise, imani reached across the seat and placed her hand in his lap. the surprise spurred his fingers forward. his index and middle finger were soaking in her wetness as his thumb tapped her clit. imani's head fell back as he hissed, breaking the kiss to shake his head. "let me focus on you."

mani didn't pull her hand away. instead, she grasped his dick -- squeezing gently as her hips rocked onto his fingers. they slid in and out effortlessly. jameson twisted and delved deeply, pulling a variety of noises from the back of imani's throat. "she talkin' to me, mani." he prompted her. she groaned, riding his hand as quickly as she could. "you hear her? i bet i can make her talk some more."

the squelching and squishing echoed through the car. his palm and other fingers were soaked as the wetness ran down his hand. imani nodded her head, breath catching in her throat as he twisted his fingers and looked for that spot -- that one spot that he knew would have her screeching within the confines of his car. when he found it, she froze -- her whole body slumping back against the seat. "yes! y-yeah. just like that." she cried. jameson followed her, watching her face as he picked up the pace. he spread her juices across her clit with his thumb. when she shut her legs around his hand again, he used his free hand to grasp her thigh. "don't run from it. let me have it."

there he was, leaning over the center console, doing his best to make her cum less than an hour after their first date had ended. he kissed her lips gently, moaning with her as she shuddered. "i--i'm--cum" she whispered, words escaping her as she struggled to give him just three. "i know, baby. i feel it. let go. i got you."

jameson nodded, licking his tongue against her quivering lips. she opened her mouth for more and he sucked her tongue into his mouth, kissing her deeply as imani came around his fingers. she squeezed him tightly but he didn't stop. those two fingers kept thrusting, thumb kept flicking at her clit until she squirmed out of his grasp. her hand moving from his lap to grasp at his wrist. he was hard as fuck, eight and a half inches practically throbbing in his boxer briefs as he tried not to nut on himself.

he forced himself to slow down then -- pleased when she whimpered and asked for more kisses. jameson supplied them happily, stroking her insides with his fingers to calm her down. when she was sated and humming happily against his mouth, he pulled his hand back. they watched each other for a moment -- imani blinked at him as he licked his fingers clean.

jameson's gaze swept down her body as if he wanted to remember her just like that -- legs open, panties pushed aside, pussy wet and satisfied from his efforts. once his hand was 'clean', jameson reached over again and righted her clothing. imani still hadn't said a word. even when he opened his door to get out of the car. when he opened her door, he offered her his hand -- the same one he'd used to get her off.

imani took it and exited the car. she didn't seem to be in a daze anymore. "this was...a wonderful date." she told him softly. "i wonder what you'll come up with next time." before jameson could say a word, she pressed her hand to his chest and lifted her head to give him a kiss. he accepted it happily, greedily even. they stood like that for a moment, kissing on the sidewalk. his arms wrapped around her waist, fingertips finding their way to that delicious ass. jameson squeezed briefly and imani broke the kiss. "call me." she told him with a smirk before walking away.

he didn't know if she smirked because she could feel how hard his dick was when she kissed him or if she knew that he was going to call her as soon as he got in the car. either way -- he was pretty sure that this girl was going to be the death of him.

her best friend sat across the room, sketching designs for her portfolio. if she wasn't so distracted, she would have noticed imani scrolling through her texts. she had unblocked jameson and found a flurry of text messages.

how are you? i miss you. can we talk? baby, i think we need sit down and talk this shit out. i love you, imani. i'm not fighting it anymore. please call me

how is it that he made her want to forgive him? it was like when they were talking or when he was in front of her -- she forgot the horrible shit he had done. she forgot the affair, she forgot the way he confessed. she forgot the way he only seemed to give his all when he felt like she was moving on from him. she hated the way he infiltrated her mind when she was with someone new. it seemed like she was doomed to keep falling for jameson -- and the thought scared her.

"just do it. you know you want to."

imani's gaze shot up from the phone to see genie peering over at her from her drawing table. despite being gorgeous enough to be a model, genie adesanya preferred to design the clothes. her curls were pinned to the top of her head and the glasses she wore were circular -- making her eyes appear even larger and more adorable.

she was southern by birth but her father was a lakers legend. a jersey-hanging-in-the-rafters-at-staples-center kind of legend. everybody loved genie. even jameson. she and he had practically been raised together when his mother and her father spent a few years dating but ultimately decided to remain friends. as close as they were, once imani stepped onto the scene -- she and genie became best friends. she took her side over jameson's. always. despite being total opposites persona wise, nobody understood imani better than genie did.

"he's blocked so i do not want to do anything." imani retorted, wrinkling her nose at her friend. she didn't bother to deny that they weren't talking about jameson.

genie got up from her drawing desk, smiling at imani as she made her way across the room and bounced down onto her friend's lap. imani quickly shoved her off with a snort and the two ended up slap boxing each other. "don't lie to me, girl!" genie yelled at her, avoiding imani's hands as she rolled off the couch and onto the floor. "you've been moping and sighing around here all week. you hiding from him?"

of course she was. jameson knew where genie lived but imani hoped that if he approached her there, genie wouldn't let them sneak off together. she was sick of falling into the same pattern with him. fight, break up, fuck, fall in love again. wash, rinse, and repeat. "i'm tired of this shit with him, genie." imani admitted, sighing softly.

genie sat up and pat her hand against imani's. "i know. but...the heart wants what it wants, mani. i'm not saying you should listen to me. i'm bad at love. I've made so many mistakes. but i can see what you really want. i know you. it's why i know jameson has lived in your head rent free for years, girl. and you live in his. i'm not saying you gotta trust him immediately. just -- just text him back. maybe it's a mistake but what if it isn't? what if y'all get it right this time?"

a true romantic at heart, imani admired genie's belief in love. she just wasn't sure she trusted it. she remained silent as genie gave her time to process. she returned to her drawing table, picking up the pencil and finishing her sketches in silence.

imani fiddled with her phone for a moment before groaning out loud. if this man broke her heart again, she was going to fucking kill him.

[ imani ] : what are you doing next week? [ blockdt unless horny ] : nothing. you want me? [ imani ] : i guess we can talk then. [ blockdt unless horny ] : why wait until then? wya? i can come there. [ imani ] : i'm at genie's but don't come here. [ blockdt unless horny ] : why not? [ imani ] : i need a minute, jamie. i didn't expect this and i don't know if this is the right decision for me. [ blockdt unless horny ] : i understand. i do. but baby, you and me have something. i fucked it up before but i'm not gonna fuck it again. i can't lose it twice. [ imani ] : we can talk about it next week. [ blockdt unless horny ] : okay. what day? [ imani ] : Thursday. i'll be back from Italy then. [ jamie ] : i already miss you. [ imani ] : i'll miss you too 🙄 [ jamie ] : lmfao i'll take that. i'ma do right this time, mani. i swear on my life. [ imani ] : we'll see. [ jamie ] : yes, we will. i try not to make mistakes but when i do, i only make them once. i'll be the man you deserve. i promise. [ imani ] : i really want to believe you [ jamie ] : we can start there, baby. that's a start.

[brattyfics]

Swampbound IV

"Jesse, get on up! You can’t be sprawled out like this!"

Adla’s voice sliced through the fog in his head. She waved a jar of coffee beans under his nose, the bitter smell cutting through the haze. "Come on now, breathe it in. You gotta wake up!"

He blinked, the world slowly sharpening into view, piece by piece.

Adla’s porch stretched out in front of him, bathed in the bright light of morning. He shifted, feeling his shirt clinging to his back, wet and sticky. A bucket of soapy water lay tipped over by his head, handle just out of reach, like something left behind in a rush.

“What... happened?” His voice was hoarse, gravelly, as he forced his head up to meet Adla’s anxious eyes. A dull throb pulsed at the base of his skull, and a strange heaviness pressed down on him, slowing everything down.

Adla glanced away for just a second before giving him a smile that never made it to her eyes. “You fell, Jess. Don’t remember?”

He shook his head and regretted it instantly as a wave of dizziness hit him hard. Groaning, he pushed himself upright, Adla’s hands warm against his clammy skin. She moved too quickly, her touch jittery, more nervous than helpful, making his head spin even more.

“You came up them steps like a storm, fussin’ ‘bout somethin’. Didn’t even see the bucket sittin’ there. Slipped and fell real hard. You really don’t remember?”

“Nah,” Jesse muttered, eyes scanning the porch, trying to fill in the blanks. Everything looked normal, except for the broken railing. It was splintered in the middle like something wild had torn through it.

“I did that?” Jesse asked, voice was low and thick with disbelief. “That don’t seem right... I don’t remember none of it.”

Adla’s hands stilled for a moment before she wiped them nervously on her housecoat. “Yeah, you did. Tore through it on your way down.” Her words tumbled out quick, a little too quick, like she was trying to convince herself just as much as him. “You should come inside and lay down for a bit. You hit your head hard—might’ve knocked somethin’ loose.”

Jesse squinted at her, that strange feeling deepening in his chest. He rubbed his temples, trying to pull the memory into focus, but it slipped away, like water through his fingers. Bits and flashes—then nothing.

“I don’t think so—” He broke off, his fingers tracing a deep scratch in the wet wood, as if seeking answers in its grain. “Somethin’ ain’t right, Addy. Feels like I’m missin’ somethin’ important.” His gaze shifted back to the splintered pole, his voice tight with uncertainty. “You sure I did that? Just me? That don’t make no sense.”

She kept dabbing at the cut on his head, blood smeared across her shaky fingers, refusing to meet her eyes. “You were actin’ strange, Jesse. Maybe you just fell wrong. Could be you hit your head worse than you think.”

Her voice held a calmness, but he could hear the subtle crack beneath it, the tremble she couldn’t quite hide. Was she really that shaken by his supposed ‘fall’?

Jesse’s frustration simmered, bubbling to the surface as the gaps in his memory stubbornly refused to close. His chest tightened, a creeping fear snaking through him—something was slipping away, something important, and he couldn’t grasp what.

“I know what a fall feels like, and this ain’t it.” He rubbed the back of his neck again, the ache growing worse, like something was buried deep under the skin. “I’m tellin’ you, it don’t make sense. None of it.”

The harder he tried to force the memory back, the more distant it became, leaving him restless and on edge. He just needed to get away, clear his head from the creeping dread gnawing at his gut.

“I need to head back to town,” he muttered, pulling away from her touch. “Gotta check on the store before we open. Charlie was workin’ last night, and that boy’s lazy as hell—probably left everything a mess.”

“You sure? You don’t look too steady right now,” Adla’s voice was soft, but her discomfort was clear, her hands hovering like she didn’t know whether to reach out again or not. “Maybe you oughta sit for a spell, let me get you some water, somethin’—”

“I’m fine!” Jesse’s voice snapped sharper than he intended, the frustration flaring up like a flash fire. As soon as the words escaped, he saw it—fear flickering in her eyes. Adla backed away, standing on shaky feet. Jesse exhaled shakily, dragging a hand over his face, his palm slick with sweat. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, softer now. “Didn’t mean to snap. I just… somethin’ ain’t right. Feels like somethin’s wrong inside me.”

Jesse prided himself on stayin' calm when chaos reigned. He could sweet-talk his way out of any mess, but in that moment, he couldn’t find that charm, no matter how hard he tried. Alarm bells rang in his swirling mind, a frantic chorus he couldn’t silence.

Adla didn’t speak for a beat, her eyes fixed on him, lips pressed tight as if she had more to say but was biting it back. It wasn’t like her, but he wasn’t in shape to press her. “If you say so, Jesse." She finally said, her voice sharper than before. "But you don’t gotta go rushin’ off. You ain’t right.”

"I’ll be fine," he said, his voice cracking, coming out more strained than he meant. He pushed himself up, legs shaky beneath him. The ground swayed for a moment, but he steadied himself with a deep breath.

Jesse staggered to his truck, but even as he left, a sharp image flickered in the back of his mind—those glowing amber eyes. He tried to grab hold of the memory, but it slipped away, just out of reach.

From the shelter of the gnarled trees, Terry’s intense gaze followed Jesse’s retreat, lurking in the shadows, a quiet storm brewing within him.

Chapter 5.

@nayaesworld

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes

@sageispunk

@megamindsecretlair

@blowmymbackout

@kindofaintrovert

@avoidthings

@zillasvilla

@insidefeelingofanadult

@theereina

@slutsareteacherstoo

@babybratzmaraj

@senajaiaspeak

@princessmakipala

@writingsbytee

@planetblaque

@liquorlaughslove

@judymfmoody

@playgurlxoxo

@theescorpiolovechile

@keyaho

@gg-trini

@vivaalenaa

@li-da-savage

@ash-ketchumzzz

[ricciardosheart]

Hey guys , I am back

A good friend of mine and I have started a podcast about f1 and the gossip

The link is here

Please support it, and show it some love , it's all girls but we are inclusive to all

I just published the first episode of my new podcast! Listen to F1 Racing Queens on Anchor

It would make me really happy if you guys could give me reactions for the episode

[strawberry-metal]

Confession

Happy birthday @caffeinated-chaos-bean Not only is it Jolyne's birthday, it is also one of my besties birthdayyyys~ Here's some Kikupol in Stardust Crusaders!

*Drops the airbrush tool* I don't wanna play with you anymore. Seriously though, how do yall use the airbrush tool without losing your minds, it pissed me off so much lmao but I did my best!

Screenshot redraw from the official JoJo Stardust Crusaders anime, don't remember the exact episode, but it was the vs The Empress episodes!

Sooooo the background is from that as well lol

Basemakerofdarkness created a base of this scene so you could insert yourself in the image with Polnareff, and I used their base! Thank you for the base!

[paddockbunny]

✨ ANNOUNCEMENT!!! ✨

Ok ok…..I have had this specific Pierre story in mind for a while. The only problem is, I get really in my head with multi-chapter fics and put a lot of pressure on myself to write in-depth long ass chapters and struggle with writers block a lot with them.

However….I have already written the first three chapters of this little story I’ve been musing over and I’m in between posting and keeping it for a later date.

So here’s the synopsis :

Bets were stupid. They were too full of risk and fuelled by idiotic naivety. Nothing good ever came of making bets. And certainly not if the person you were making them with was Pierre fucking Gasly.

So when Aria Armund - his newest “babysitter” - came up with the idea to make a bet that Pierre wouldn’t be able to keep out of trouble till the end of the season, she didn’t think he would actually bite!

If Aria won she would get the satisfaction in knowing Pierre was EXACTLY what she presumed he was.

If he won….he gets to have her, for one night, doing whatever he wants.

Let me know what you think!!!

🥰💕🙏🏼 .

[bellaatmclaren]

The Battle of the Paddock

[Bella is a promising, young social media talent. She ends up in working with McLaren for their 2023 race season, but has she bitten off a little more than she can chew?]

Lando Norris/OC, Charles Leclerc/OC George Russell/OC

Bella was awake long before her alarm. This was the day that she had been waiting for, for her whole life. It was a dream come true… so why did she feel so terrified?

Bella was a girl from a town called Rochester, just East of London. She had grown up as a normal girl with an eye for photography and later, developed this passion into videography. Starting as a weekend help for local wedding photographers, she was able to start to build an impressive portfolio. Bella ended up being accepted into Queen Mary university to study social media marketing. This helped her combine her keen eye for photography with a way to make it profitable and build her career further. Don’t get it wrong, Bella did love photographing weddings, but she felt as though she could do more, and she had a dream.

Bella’s father was a passionate sports fan, especially when it came to Formula One. Growing up, Bella had always enjoyed sitting with her father on the weekends to watch the likes of Vettel and Button race for victory. She had fond memories of watching Sebastian Vettel become the youngest winner, racing for the pole position for Red Bull. Holding onto this memory fondly, Bella decided that she wanted to be there, in the paddock and photographing the drivers in their day-to-day activities, practicing on the tracks, celebrating on the podiums, and everything else in between.

One January day, Bella received an email that was almost too good to be true. She had been recently working with various companies, helping them build an online profile through the likes of Instagram and more recently the ever-growing TikTok app. The email was from McLaren, they had seen her online presence and they needed a new social media assistant manager for the next race season. They were inviting her to interview with them at her earliest convenience to pitch some ideas on how to build up awareness around their new car and drivers ready for the new season.

Bella stared at her phone in disbelief, she was potentially going to end up in the paddock, where she had always dreamt of being. Time passed and the interview came and went without a hitch. Bella, was offered the position which she immediately took. Bella had pitched several ideas to the McLaren team which they had loved.

***

Bella rolled over and checked her phone, 05:03. She sighed and swung her legs over the edge of her bed. She’d said goodbye to her father the day before and boarded a train to Woking so she wouldn’t have to make the journey the day of the meeting. McLaren had put her up in a small B&B just a few miles away from their HQ. They were to send a car to collect her at seven and that’s all she knew. She had no idea what the first day would contain, all she knew was that she needed to bring all her kits with her in case there were perfect photo opportunities.

Bella hopped into the shower, got herself dressed and presentable, and was down in reception for a quarter to seven ready to go. Normally, Bella would have killed for a coffee but she was already so wired on nerves, she thought this would probably make it all worse. She was shaking as it was, full of adrenaline.

Dead on seven, a black car pulled up out front and Jim Harris jumped out to greet her. Jim oversaw McLaren’s media outlets; he had been the one who had personally scouted and hired Bella. It was a cold February day, accompanied by wind and rain, not ideal shooting conditions but Bella knew the HQ had to be large enough that they’d find some great locations inside.

“Isabella, it’s so nice to finally meet you in the flesh,” said Jim cheerfully.

“You too Jim, but please, call me Bella” Bella said, extending her hand and shaking Jim’s firmly.

Jim couldn’t have been too much older than Bella. She was twenty-three, and Jim had to be in his late twenties at maximum. He had a youthful face and was dressed in his McLaren-branded soft-shell jacket.

“Jump in, we have so much to get through already today”.

He gestured to the open door of the car. Bella climbed in and they made their way to McLaren’s Technology Centre.

In the car, Jim made a pleasant conversation with Bella about her thoughts on her first day. He asked how she was feeling and was quite sweet, trying to calm her.

“Remember, it’s not fear, it’s excitement. At least that’s what Lando tells us before a race”

That’s when it hit her. She was going to meet the drivers, in real life. Not these small little figures she saw on her TV screen or online. They were real people, living their dreams and Bella was going to be rubbing shoulders with them any time soon.

“It isn’t nerves, it’s excitement” was what Bella held onto, mentally repeating it to herself the whole short, ten-minute drive to the offices.

The building itself was an impressive piece of architecture, a huge curved building, a semi-circle with the other half being replaced with a lake structure, from above it was a perfect circle. Jim gave her a brief tour of the floor she was to be based on. Bella had a small office space in the social media room. A desk, various laptops and computers, tablets, and lots of storage space.

“Make this into whatever suits you,” Jim said, waving his arm around the space, “whatever gets those creative thoughts flowing, but just remember there will be nine months of the year where we’re flying between here and various countries so best to make sure it’s all portable!”

After introductions between herself and the rest of the media team, Jim left her in the hands of Aria, an intern who had been with McLaren for the last season. Aria was young and funny, and Bella took an instant shine to her.

“Look at you! Your first day here, how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay, I think. A bit apprehensive but I’m looking forward to it. I’m relaxed now I’m here and sat down,” Bella smiled.

“Honestly, you will have so much fun. McLaren is a great company to work for and I have loved every second. I just wish I could go out on the seasons and see the races in person.”

“You didn’t go last year?”

“No,” Aria sighed, “only the best in the team actually get flown out to spend their time there, and well, I’m still learning. I’m an intern so I’m not that valued. I do help a lot, I spend a lot of my time editing, writing captions, and posting but I’ve not taken any of the photos yet. But there’s still time!”

This made Bella nervous again. She didn’t know if she was going to be going out to Bahrain in late February, Jim hadn’t said either way and she hadn’t even thought about it. Maybe she wouldn’t even get to meet the drivers, just sit in her office sipping coffee and colour correcting others’ photos. Maybe when Jim had said it was one-on-one work, he meant just assisting with posting with one of the photographers, not the actual drivers.

After a few hours of Aria showing Bella around the office, and Bella showing Aria around her camera kit, Jim popped his head back around the door.

“Bella, could you come with me? You don’t need anything with you, just yourself is great.”

Bella followed him out in the corridor, and they started walking towards the lifts.

“Honestly Bella, I was so impressed with your portfolio that I wanted to kind of ‘chuck you into the deep end’, so they say” He pushed the button, to call the elevator. “We’ve decided to pair you up with someone special for this season, that’s if you’re willing to, and you get on well. I’m sure you will, it’s near on impossible not to with this one…”

They stepped into the elevator, and Bella’s mouth had gone dry. Who was he taking her to? And why did he look so smug?

She followed Jim down various corridors, stopping to say hello to the odd person here and there, occasional hasty introductions before being whisked off again down more of the maze. Finally, they came to another meeting room with glass walls. Bella could see there were others in the room but they had their backs to the glass. Jim opened the door.

“Bella, meet Lando Norris. You’ll be working with him closely this season, I hope.”

Lando Norris turned his head upon hearing his name and made eye contact with Bella. A huge smile broke across his face.

“Bella, it’s so nice to meet you! I’ve been waiting all day to find out about my new teammate. I hope you’re ready for some chaos!”

“Lando, less of the chaos. You’ll worry her before she’s even begun” Said Jim, as he turned to Bella “It’s not chaos, these lot can just be a bit unpredictable at times, it’s like herding cats, especially when it comes to this one.”

“I keep you on your toes, Jim, you love it really,” Said Lando playfully as he approached them.

Bella instinctively put her hand out to Lando, but he laughed.

“Bring it in for a hug, we’re practically family now”

Bella laughed nervously but gave Lando a brief hug. Jim left them alone to ‘get acquainted’ as he had put it. Bella was glad, she wanted to get to know Lando, what kind of material he wanted to produce, and how she could make this the best professional relationship she could. Her work head was firmly screwed on.

“So, Bella,” Lando said sitting at the table, “If we’re going to be traveling together, we’d better end up leaving this room as buddies”.

Bella smiled, Lando struck her as a super playful guy, especially from what she had seen on TV.

“I feel like that could be easily done, you just have to tell me what you want from me. What content do you want to put out there to your fans? What are we going for this year? Still your funny, approachable guy next door look or a more serious, mature version of Lando Norris?”

“I don’t want to be mature; I am happy where I am thanks. What are you trying to say about me?” Lando pulled a face.

“Oh no, I wasn’t… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Relax! I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I just want to have fun, I want them to see me as I am, none of this pouting and posing the other boys do. I mean, I can do a mean Max impression though, look.”

Lando sat back in his chair, crossed his arms, and scowled.

“Do not talk to me, I am world champion. I am Max Verstappen, I must win”.

He didn’t get much further without cracking up into laughter.

“Honestly, when you meet him, you’ll see what I mean. He’s so serious all the time. Since getting his title, he’s gotten all uptight. He needs to relax and just enjoy it all.”

“Don’t worry, because this year’s world champion will be you, I can feel it already” Bella smiled.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about. Let’s get this show on the road”.