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redclercs · 2 years ago

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DELICATE✰ CHARLES LECLERC.

v. i gave my blood, sweat and tears for this

— the one where both of you have given everything to be where you are.

warnings: misogyny, sexual harassment, this is how monaco went btw i accept no criticism. barely proofread, sorry. 3.7k words (+ article, podcast excerpts)

masterlist �� next

'Have we let y/n y/ln get away with way too much?'

By Alan Gomez

Yes folks, it might be our own fault, we have created a monster in the form y/n y/ln. Mediocre actress at best and with an even worse personality, if the latest events are any indication.

But how could we let this happen? Come on, we're smarter than this!

The thing is, y/n brainwashed us into believing that her doe-eyed, no-brain characters were actually her. Don't beat yourselves up over this too much, even I was a victim of those pretty eyes. But now that the blindfold has fallen, we have come to realize we have let y/n get away with everything!

You might know y/n from Supercut, the romantic comedy that took the world by storm in 2019, where she starred alongside Aidan Kim and it lead to these two becoming one of the general public’s most cherished couples. At least until two months ago, when their breakup was announced via Inside Out. Although there haven’t been any official statements, given the circumstances, we believe it was the actress who broke it off with Kim.

→ Aidan Kim and friends at Cannes Film Festival

→ Y/N supports alleged boyfriend at charity football match

But whether she’s dating a new guy now or not, why do we keep letting her do whatever she wants?

How did she actually brainwash us into thinking she’s anything close to an “it girl”? After Supercut, all she’s done is the absolute bare minimum to keep people talking about her, it’s all RomComs and no effort. I didn’t want to be that person, and you have to believe me on this, but Aidan Kim made her.

Let’s remember Aidan built his career from the ground as a member of Star-5 the early 2010’s boyband that split in 2018. He was the ‘someone’ in the relationship. How can people even compare having the hit song “Round and Round” in your résumé to being in Scream (Netflix) and The Mist (again, Netflix)?

Aidan made us like her and the writers of Parisian Valentine, The Hating Game and Last Night In Love, did her a HUGE favor by consolidating her as the “Queen of RomComs” by what standard? Well, don’t ask me.

The truth is, we accepted y/n into our hearts and homes, thanks to Aidan Kim and an unbelievable amount of luck, and we haven’t held her accountable for anything ever.

Here’s what I’m talking about, if you’re still wondering what the point of this article is, click on every link to be taken to the whole context, you’ll thank me later:

❍Y/N yells at paparazzi to leave her alone as she walks around Beverly Hills with Victoria Presley.

❍ Y/N praises Taylor Swift while tearing down several male artists for writing songs about their personal experiences.

❍ Y/N says in interview with ELLE that not every movie has to be “profound”.

And just for fun:

❍ A collection of Y/N’s disastrous looks.

It’s time we realize y/n y/ln is talentless, has a horrible personality and feigns innocence she certainly doesn’t have. You will NOT continue to take advantage of us, y/n! It’s all over for you, so I’m glad you’re dropping your pathetic career to become a WAG. #Y/NIsOverParty.

↺ FROM ❛WE WATCH❜ PODCAST

Paul Byrnes: Can y/n really do another role now, after all she’s known for are romantic comedies?

Anna Sanchez: well, I really liked her in The Mist, she did great as character in a horror it was—

Paul Byrnes: No one cares about The Mist, Anna, just you.

Anna Sanchez: all I’m saying is she’s a good actress, she can do other things. That was your question, Paul.

Paul Byrnes: Well, in my opinion she can't and that's it.

↺ FROM ❛IT TALK❜ PODCAST

Greg Zane: Let's talk y/n y/ln and her fashion choices now that she's an F1 WAG. What do we think?

Riley Green: She's a what now? How long has it been since she broke up with Aidan Kim?

Martha Vincent: I think she's looking great, I just wish she'd let go of the ugly caps.

Riley Green: No seriously, how long did she stay single?

Greg Zane: I agree Martha, but caps are big in Formula 1, nothing we can do about that. I'm wondering if she'll go for a more glamorous look in Monaco.

Riley Green: guys? hello?

Martha Vincent: Oh Riley, we're not talking about her love life, let it go.

↺ FROM ❛HOLLYWOOD VIBES❜ PODCAST

Pauline Oscar: [cont.] I'm just so curious about the reason of their breakup, why hasn't anyone said anything?! It must be juicy.

Brenda Yim: I feel like it's bad for one of them, most likely y/n. Hello, can anyone offer one of their friends some money? Just like old times!

Pauline Oscar: [laughs] Definitely! We need to know! Can it get any worse than the fact that she's already with another guy? What's his name? Charles Le what? She soooo cheated.

liked by charles_leclerc, vicpresley, mati.bassi, carlossainz55 and others.

ynfreesia UM THE LIKES?

xxynbaby it's "monaco" of course

aidanluvs you don't even have the decency to pretend like you're alone? fuck you

ynredstar i cannot defend you if you pull this shit girl

mati.bassi great view for breakfast with my best girl!💕

ynredstar oh ynredstar nevermind thanks mati ↳ feels4aidan don't be so gullible she's obviously covering up for them

THE COMMENTS FOR THIS POST ARE DISABLED.

May 27th, Montecarlo, Monaco.

THERE are tears in your eyes, and despite your best efforts not to let them run down your cheeks, it's futile. The worst part is that you're the one doing this to yourself. There's zero need to read 'articles' from pseudo journalists on how a man gave you your career and how you're tossing it into the trash for another. Not to mention the cascade of curses you received for a picture on instagram, where everyone thought you were with the other man.

Has your life really come to this? People don't talk about you unless a guy is involved? You loathe it. Your career was never about Aidan, and it's not about Charles now. Who only makes things worse every time he shows up and yet you can't manage to bring it up to him.

It's embarrassing. You don't want to walk up to him during whatever free time he has in a hectic weekend, and ask him if it really doesn't annoy him everything the press has made up about the two of you, or if he's really that unbothered by being paired up with you in the wildest scenarios, and tell him that he can shut them down whenever he feels like it (you wish he would already), and let him know you won't mind whatever he says about not being involved with you.

But no, Mr. Leclerc is busy giving unclear answers at interviews and liking your instagram posts, as if this isn't already a wildfire.

You put down your phone and pick it back up almost immediately, Vic's ringtone fills your hotel room and you wipe away your tears before answering her FaceTime request.

"Were you crying?" it's the first thing she says, moving her sunglasses to the top of her head. There's a lot of noise in the background and you can barely make the words out, but she comes so close to the phone that all you can see is the tip of her nose. "Why were you crying?"

"It's nothing, Vic. What's up?" you sigh, rubbing your eyes only makes things worse but you don't want to worry about that now.

"I just got to Monaco, babe," the phone is at a safe distance from her nostrils again and you can see around her, the airport where you landed a few days ago. "I'm with my parents," she rolls her eyes, lowering her voice. "But if you could get me into the Ferrari Suite I can hang out with you tomorrow!"

They allowed you one guest and the spot has already been taken by Mati, so there really isn't much you can do in terms of getting her into the Ferrari Suite. "Well, let me see what I can do, okay?"

"Okay," she sounds unsure, you know Vic enough to be sure she expected a different answer. "I mean my parents have Lounge privileges but it's more fun to be with you."

Had she said something about coming to Monaco you might have been able to do something, but as far as you were concerned she planned to stay in France all week, enjoying Cannes and mingling.

"I'll do my best Vic, but you know how they are," you exhale heavily, "Plus it's a crazy-ass weekend."

"Isn't it always?" she's yawning now, "We can meet for dinner later and you can tell me what's up alright? Being with my parents is so boring."

You shake your head, "Be nice, they just want to hang out with you. I'll call you after Quali," you check the clock on top of the nightstand, it's 10 am. You have to get ready for FP3, which you don't care about attending or not but Stuart Schaffer asked to see you, so you haven't got much of a choice.

"Sure babes, love you." Vic pulls her sunglasses down again and blows a kiss to the screen.

"Love you too," it's your turn to yawn as you tap the hang up button.

You look at the special edition Ferrari cap you received as a gift yesterday on top of your suitcase and immediately discard the idea of wearing it. No caps. And then the wave of disgust invades you, are you seriously going to do what some random man said on a podcast you came across by accident?

The answer is yes, unfortunately.

─────────

You would rip your leg off if you could, at least it would mean you’d be able to get out of this chair and away from Stuart. But his palm resting on top of your knee feels like a death grip and you’re frankly afraid to move in case it goes further up.

Mati decided to skip FP3 and you’re really hoping she’ll be on time for Quali because you have no one else to talk to, Stuart is just parading you around again and keeping you way too close for comfort because he’s in a great mood since both Ferraris maintained their top spots and things are looking hopeful for Qualifying.

You know it’s your chance to ask if you can bring Victoria around tomorrow, and you know the answer will be yes, but you don’t. You don’t want to ask things from this man, he’s the type to never forget a debt.

You barely catch a glimpse of Carlos and Charles as they walk by on the way to their debrief and Charles waves at you quickly, with a single-dimpled smile. He’s wearing the same cap you refused to put on.

“I’m going to call my friend,” you blurt out once Charles is out of sight, finally moving your leg back to make Stuart’s hand drop. “She had the worst hangover, I have to check up on her.”

“Oh, you girls get wild in Monaco,” Stuart cackles as you sprint away from him, actually resisting the urge to wipe your knee clean.

"Hey y/n!" Mati's voice can barely be heard above the EDM playing wherever she is. "What's up?"

"Where are you?" you whine, looking back inside the Suite. "Help."

"What's wrong?" you picture her frowning as she tries to walk away from the noise helplessly.

You feel guilty for worrying her so you sigh. "Nothing, I just hate being here. Are you coming here for Qualifying?"

"Yep," she pops the 'p' and laughs. "Listen, why don't we have lunch here at the yacht and then go back for Quali?"

"Yes!" once again you look over your shoulder to where the Elix men are laughing at their own jokes and patting each other's backs. “I’m on my way, okay?”

“I’ll be right here, also don’t scare me like that again, please.”

“Sorry,” you chuckle, embarrassed. Maybe you’re a bit dramatic at times, but it’s really all good-natured. “See you in a minute.”

You turn to the door of the Suite, giving a short jump back when you open it at the same time as someone else.

“Oh, god,” you sigh, stepping inside as Charles moves out of the way to let you in. “Thanks.”

“Sorry I scared you,” he smiles, closing the door again once you’re fully in. Charles is once again holding a closed Elix can, tapping his fingers on the side.

You eye it suspiciously, wondering if the thing has really grown on him. After all, one of the first things he told you was how much it disgusted him.

“It’s alright. I thought you were in your debrief?” You grab a can of Elix yourself, looking good in front of the sponsors cannot hurt.

“It was a short one. Keep doing what you’re doing kind of thing,”

“Right. Well, good for both of you,” you look around for Carlos but he’s nowhere to be seen. “Would it jinx it to say ‘good luck’ for later?”

You know many sportspeople take their jinxes and rituals way seriously, and you don’t want to be the one to blame if something goes wrong for the local star.

Charles considers this for a second and then shakes his head no. “Wish me luck,” he smiles.

“Good luck, Charles.” You beam back at him, enjoying—despite yourself—the way his eyes burn into yours.

─────────

You’re back at the Suite with Mati 10 minutes before Qualifying starts. The tension that had seeped out of your body in the form of laughter and loud singing with Mati is already making its way back to your back and jaw. You’re not ready to be around the Elix people again, but you must. However, first, you make Matilde promise she won’t leave your side.

Stuart Schaffer is already patting the empty seat next to him when you make your way through the refreshment tables. You smile at him, a muscle in your cheek falters as you walk past him on your way to the balcony, to catch both Ferraris leaving the garage.

“Oh don’t drink that,” you whisper when you see Mati walk your way, two cans of Gold Elix in her hands. “Don’t.”

Matilde snorts, “You’re literally the ambassador of this thing, and you don’t like it?”

“SHHH!”

“Fine, but those guys are looking at us so we have to at least sip it.”

You groan, opening the one she offers you and then taking a huge gulp. “Yum,” you mock.

Mati laughs again before her face goes sour with the taste. “Oh my God,”

“Warned you,” yet you take another sip. You think that if it grew on Charles it might grow on you, but you don’t really see it happening.

Q1 and Q2 go by smoothly, at least for Ferrari and you’re on the edge of your seat for Q3. This is the race you’ve been more excited for, but it’s not like you’ve attended many others. Still, Monaco just hits different.

The end of Q3 almost gives you a heart attack, although you also blame your almost empty Elix. You didn’t even notice how much you drank, but the thing that really gets your heart jumping out of your chest is Victoria’s ringtone.

Begrudgingly, you turn away from the track. She has texted you a thousand times, without exaggerating, since Quali started and you know it’s because she’s bored out of her mind at the Lounge with her parents. But you’re starting to find this genuinely entertaining and you are bothered by the distraction.

“I told you I’d call you after Quali, Vic,” you singsong, looking up at the screens inside the Suite.

“Well Quali is almost over, no one cares about the last three minutes.”

You do, Max Verstappen is in first place, then Charles and Checo in P3. You’re crossing your fingers for Charles to manage to get above both Red Bulls. And for Carlos to squeeze in there too.

You don’t say anything else, too enthralled by the battle on the screen.

“Y/n?” Vic raises her voice, “Are you listening to me?”

“Yes Vic, what is it?”

“We’re going to be at Ferrari together tomorrow, right?”

You wince, glad she chose a phone call instead of FaceTime this time around. You haven’t asked and you don’t intend to. Vic still has VIP Lounge access, she’ll be fine.

“They said no, Vic.” You lie, your eyes scanning the screen, it’s the last lap before they get the checkered flag out. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Why? Did you tell them I can give them publicity? I have one million followers!”

“Monaco is different from Miami,” you explain gently, “But you’ll still be at the VIP, you have a great view.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she’s beyond annoyed now, as it happens every time things don’t go her way. You can’t blame her, but you also think it will be good for her to spend some time with her parents, whom she refuses to visit although they live in Malibu and pay her mortgage. “We’re still up for dinner though, right?”

“Yep! I’ll meet you at your hotel.”

“Okay see you then, babes.”

By the time your eyes return to the screen, Charles is in P1, Carlos in P3 and the Ferrari Suite is exploding in cheers.

YOU’RE up painfully early the next day. Vic and you went back to your respective hotel way past three am and you’re exhausted, but at least you had enough self-control to avoid today’s hangover.

Nevertheless, the morning goes by in a blur between breakfast with Elix people, calls with Mildred and Walter, your manager, and two casting agents that tell you that no, you don’t need to go for an in-person casting, you’re not getting the role.

By the time you get to the Suite you have a headache and the knot on your throat is progressively getting harder to swallow. You only make things worse by rage-reading tweets with your #IsOver hashtag.

People claim, with more force every day, that Aidan gave you everything and you are starting to regret ever meeting him.

You have worked your ass off for years, taking on small roles, commercials, stock-photo deals. Learning scripts and going to castings and taking classes, you have been criticized and rejected for more things than just “not fitting the role”.

You have given everything you are and everything you have, and people assure what you got in return you owe it all to some man.

“Hola y/n!” Carlos is the first one to get back to the Suite and you wish he would rub off some of his good mood on you. “How are you today?”

“Hi Carlos, I’m alright and you?”

“You definitely look it,” he says, semi-sarcastically. “Something on your mind?”

The knot is back in your throat so you shake your head no. “And yours?”

“Nada de nada.” he smiles. You’re still growing on each other, but this is the most comfortable you’ve been while sharing the same space.

Charles arrives while Carlos, Mati (who is hungover from her party at the yachts) and you are comparing workout playlists. Wearing what now seems to be like his comfort cap, and a pair of ugly ripped jeans, he smiles brightly at the three of you.

You’re happy to see both Ferrari boys so smiley after the past couple races. Miami especially. And you hope they’ll do well; but you’re particularly scared for Charles, and whatever it is that made him unlucky in his hometown, you don’t want this day to end on a sour note.

You spend about an hour talking to them about anything, your movies, their races, Mati's tour with Romeo and Juliet. Music, hobbies and quirks, Charles and Carlos have an opinion on everything and they are actually quite fun to be around. Then, a Ferrari Team member comes to get them for the Drivers Parade so you wave them goodbye, wishing them a smooth race.

"You're not going to wish me luck, y/n?" Charles asks, the smirk on his face is one you identify as mischievous, and it makes a small wave of anxiety run down your back.

Mati stops the bottle of water halfway through her mouth to ogle at the two of you, and the palpable tension that has installed itself in the space.

"Good luck, Charles," the smile you return falters in one corner, but Charles doesn't seem to mind as he adjusts his cap and says thank you before leaving behind Carlos.

Mati has forgotten about her need to hydrate and is staring at you with both eyebrows raised. "I thought you were not doing that?" she gestures with her head towards the door through which both drivers vanished.

"I'm not doing anything," you reply, defensively. "He's being—"

"y/n, you could cut the tension there for a minute," Mati finally takes a swig of water and you wait for her to continue talking. "Like I said, I don't recommend it but... you're free to do whatever you want." she isn't unkind while wording that last part, but it still stings you with annoyance.

"Thanks, Mati." you bite the inside of your cheek, leaning back into the sofa.

─────────

The Ferrari Suite explodes in cheers once the checkered flag is out. After a frankly insane race with rain, crashes and too-long pit stops, both Ferraris have crossed the finish line, and most importantly Charles has finally managed to get rid of his Monaco curse. His enlarged picture appears on every screen with P1 right in the middle. Carlos is P4, but the points are extremely important in the long run, so people celebrate nevertheless.

Before you know it, Mati and you are being dragged down to the track for the podium celebrations. You're buzzing with excitement, holding Matilde's hand as you run to one side, where the mechanics can't crush you as they jump up and down.

Even above the general screams of happiness, you can hear talks of 'Charles deserves this so much', 'It was about time' and 'His hard work is finally paying off at home'.

At least someone's blood, sweat and tears are valued.

YOU are probably not living down the Charles dating allegations this weekend. Which is not your fault, honestly, had they enlarged the picture, it would have shown Mati just as excited for Ferrari as you were. She's Italian, and she bleeds for Ferrari.

But right now, surprisingly, you're not overwhelmed with whatever it is they're saying on Twitter. Although it took Mati snatching your phone away and tossing it in her own purse before sitting you down to retouch your makeup for the celebration party.

Victoria is joining you too, because a 'the more the merrier' applies to any sort of party happening in a Monaco club, especially if it is for the unofficial prince.

It is the first time in three months you let go of your worries, even if it is for the shortest amount of time as you dance with Victoria and Mati and drink anything you please and whoop every time the DJ mentions Charles and Carlos.

You're happy to be with your friends, away from Elix and celebrating two people who can become something more than coworkers to you. Although through the night you see them on a few occasions, Carlos waves at you as he passes by a few times only stopping in the third time to let you congratulate him with a quick hug that's more of a shoulder squeeze than anything.

Charles is obviously harder to approach, and to be fair, it's not like you're even trying. He's surrounded by his hometown friends and by anyone who wants to have his attention for a minute, for a picture or a dance or to buy him a drink.

It's past three am when Victoria is beyond buzzed and you're starting to feel exhausted so you decide it's time to leave. Mati has found someone to take home so she's been gone for around forty minutes, minding her business.

"Come on, let's go," you are grabbing Victoria by the wrist as her ankle twists. "We've both had enough," you laugh, Victoria joins your laughter as you snake through the crowd of people pumping fists in the air, some of them point and wave at you and you smile back at them politely.

You hear your name being passed around a few times, but you focus on finding the exit while keeping Victoria by your side, who has started to whine about not wanting to leave.

Once you break into the outside, you take a breath of fresh air, the coolness makes your skin rise in goosebumps and you shiver, letting go of Victoria to lift the hair on the back of your neck.

"It's too early!" Victoria complains once again, her eyes are glassy and she's just as sweaty.

"It's not, plus you're drunk, we should leave," your ears still feel drowned in the sound of music. “My feet are killing me.”

The exit opens again, and a couple stumbles out laughing and they tell Vic and you goodbye in drunken French. Before the door shuts again, Charles is out on the street too.

"I heard you were leaving," he says in what you're sure it's a too loud voice. But your ears have barely stopped ringing, so you can't blame him. "Are you two okay?" he eyes Victoria, who is starting to lean down on her knees to soothe her dizziness.

"Oh we're alright, we've just partied enough," you smile at him. Charles is rosy, bright-eyed and sweaty. Is it corny to describe someone as painfully handsome?

"I didn't get to congratulate you," you add, trying to keep your attention on Charles while being aware that Victoria might start retching at any given moment. "You did amazing."

Victoria straightens immediately, her glassy stare focusing on Charles. "You're such a good driver, Charles, for real."

"Thank you," Charles nods awkwardly a few times as Victoria pokes him with her left index finger. "And thank you y/n."

"Come on, Vic," you chuckle, keeping her hand away from Charles. "Seriously though, I'm happy for you."

Charles smiles again, running a hand through his hair. "Thank you, really. I'm sorry I didn't see you earlier," he points behind him, to the club.

"It's your party, you can't be everywhere,"

Vic is yawning loudly, and you roll your eyes, amused. "We better get going."

"y/n, when are you flying to Spain?" Charles blurts out, the moment you turn to lead Vic down the street.

"I'm not sure, Wednesday probably?"

"You know, I can still show you a place or two in Monaco. If you want." He sinks his left hand in the front pocket of his dark jeans, and you wonder where the mischievous aura from what seems like ages ago went.

You pause, letting Vic put her whole weight on your shoulder as she finally gives up to the exhaustion. "Um well..."

The same tension that appeared at the Ferrari Suite is back, and the more you hesitate, the thicker it becomes.

Victoria pulls you down with her as she throws her head back, yawning again. Charles is just in time to hold you back up, his other arm pulling Vic back to a standing position.

"Only if you want," he says, he is far too close now and you can smell the mix of alcohol and cologne on him.

And maybe it's the alcohol in your own system, and you'll regret this once you sober up and realize that you told Matilde several times this is exactly what you were not going to do, but you say yes.

─── team principal radio: ❝thank you for reading! I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. I want to say thank you to everyone who interacts with this series, it means a lot to me to know that you're enjoying it!♡❞

✰ paddock club members: @majx00

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softestqueeen · 7 months ago

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like the movies

pairing: mads mikkelsen x actress!reader

summary: While attending the premiere of your new movie “The Hunt” with your co-worker and good friend Mads Mikkelsen, you get a little bit emotional. After Mads comforts you, he offers to bring you home. Once at your room, things develop quite different than you imagined..

warnings: 18+ MDNI!! smut, unprotected p in v sex (please guys – don’t be silly, wrap your willy), mutual masturbating, fingering (f receiving), handjob (m receiving), cumming in pants, breeding kink (sorry not sorry), mention of pubic hair

wordcount: 3480 words

a/n: I literally promised to write this for my best friend last year in september.💀 but now i finally had the time to write it. i plan on being a lot more active in the future, as I have been quite inactive in the past. now: enjoy <3

disclaimer: there is a link to the dress i image the reader wearing, the person wearing it is like 2000s cocaine thin, so if you don’t want to ruin the fantasy (because truthfully i don’t look like that either) i suggest you don’t open it and just imagine something that really fits your style and body <3

Finally, after more than two years of filming, the premiere of your new movie “The Hunt” is only a few minutes away. After getting ready in your hotel room, you got into a limo with some of the other actresses that starred in the movie. You were so excited, because this was not just any premiere, you new movie would be premiering at the Cannes Film Festival in France.

Looking out the tinted window of the limousine, you could already see the red carpet and the endless paparazzi that were lining it. You took a deep breath as the car came to a halt and the door opened. One after the other your colleagues trickled out and onto the red carpet before it was your turn.

You would never get used to the feeling of standing on a red carpet. The way that the paparazzi and fans were screaming your name, fighting for your attention, wanting the perfect picture of you in your fancy outfit. The different poses, the group pictures, and the interviews along the way to the first ever screening of a new film.

Like every time, this all passed by like a blur. You were glad that it was over, but also a bit sad about it. For now, you would enjoy the film though. After all you worked hard on it, not just as an actress, but for the first time also as a director, which made this premiere even more special – if that was even possible.

Most of your colleagues had finished their walks on the red carpet now as well and were led to their seats. You knew that a lot of people didn’t actually go and watch the movie, but you loved to see the finished product on the big screen.

Getting settled with your popcorn, you suddenly feel someone sitting down next to you. Turning to face them, a smile instantly found it’s way onto your face when you saw that it was your colleague – and good friend – Mads Mikkelsen. Excitement filled you, because you knew that he normally went out to eat before the after- show party, which is why he would have missed the first screening.

The two of you exchanged short small talk about the premiere so far before the lights dimmed and the film started. Of course, you knew what was happening, but seeing the final cut and the whole story pieced together was amazing.

It was over way too soon and at the end you even got a little bit emotional. Partially because of the film – even though a lot of people would say it is ridiculous to shed a tear at this film – and also because it was now over. For such a long time you worked so hard on this film and now it is completed.

Hearing a sniffle next to him, Mads turned around to look at you. He quickly pulled a handkerchief out of his suit jacket before asking you. “Are you alright, darling?”

The pet name made your heart rate pick up as you mutter a quiet ‘thanks’ while accepting the tissue. You leaned your head back and tried to dab the tears away without ruining your make up while Mads was still turned towards you, now with a worried expression on his face.

After collecting yourself for a moment, you turned to look at him again. “I’m all right, just a little emotional that’s all. We’ve worked so hard for this and now it’s over. I will miss the time on set.” You told him, while trying not to cry again, which surprisingly worked. He still didn’t look completely convinced but accepted your answer. For now.

The lights were now turned back on and Mads stood up, holding out his hand to you. You gladly accepted it and the two of you excited the cinema and made your way to the actual highlight of the evening: the after-show party.

“Have I already told you that you are an absolute beauty today?”, he asked while you walked, your arm still linked with his.

You turned your head and tried to hide the blush that was creeping up your cheeks at the actors’ words.

“No, you haven’t. But I also didn’t tell you that you look quite handsome in your suit as well,” you told him cheekily. Now that you were thinking about it, the two of you looked quite well together. Your chestnut brown dress complimented his dark grey suit very nicely. His tie even had a similar colour to your dress.

The two of you smiled at each other and braced yourself for the paparazzi you knew were waiting in front of the club the after-show party would be held at. You didn’t know if you should remove your hand as to not paint the wrong picture for the public but Mads seemed unbothered by the fact that you looked like a couple and you decided that you were too.

So, you entered the club arm in arm, the flashes behind you momentarily lighting up the entrance. After getting drinks the two of you slowly drifted to different corners of the party. You were hanging around with your friends while he was hanging around with his. And still you could often feel a pair of eyes on you and when you turned around it were always Mads eyes that caught yours.

This happened a few times and the longer the party went on – and the more drinks you had – the riskier you got. Sometimes you shot him a wink or held eye contact with him while dancing or whispering into one of your friends’ ears.

It was safe to say that you could now both feel the tension that is starting to form between you.

Throughout the evening this tension developed into something you hadn’t really felt in a long time: comfort.

No matter where you turned you knew he was there with that easy smile on his lips. And in a way his presence calmed your nerves like nothing else. Your earlier disappointment about the film slowly started to transform too.

And so, the only possible thing you could do was talk to him again. For a moment you thought he may have gone without you, as you turned but could not see him.

Thank God, you saw him emerging the bathroom just a moment later. You excused yourself from your current conversation with a director whose name you couldn’t recall anymore and approached Mads before he could slip away again.

Before you could say anything, Mads grabbed your hand and pulled you back into the area of the bathrooms, which was a bit more secluded and quieter. A lot less people were crowding the space, only the occasional person emerging from the bathrooms.

“Are you feeling better now, darling?”, he asks you, leaning closer to you, even though it was not necessary. At the sudden closeness and his repeated use of the pet name, you could feel your heart rate picking up.

“Yes, I am, thanks for asking,” you answered him before adding, “It’s getting kinda late though, so I’ll probably catch a taxi and head home now.”

“I was actually about to head back to the hotel soon, how about we share a taxi? Cheaper you know.” He adds the last sentence with a lazy smirk and a wink.

“Sounds good to me,” you flirted back.

When you went to turn to the entrance you noticed that you were still holding his hand. Tightening your grip on him you now fully turned and started guiding the two of you out of the night club.

Once outside, you could feel a shiver running down your spine at the crisp night air, though it could also be caused by the long skin contact with your quite handsome colleague.

Ever the gentleman, Mads noticed and quickly rid himself of his suit jacket and laid it over your bare shoulders. You thanked him with a slight blush that got even deeper when he put his arm around you and rested his hand respectfully on your waist.

With you in his arm he waved over a taxi, opened the car door for you and helped you inside, as he noticed your trouble from the light intoxication and high heels. He gave the driver the address of your hotel, which thankfully was not too far away from the venue.

Even though the two of you didn’t talk during the drive, you could both feel the sexual tension between you. It genuinely surprised you as you hadn’t thought about Mads this way before. Of course, he’s handsome but to you he was only a good friend.

But now that you were looking at him, his face illuminated only by the warm light of the French streetlamps, you had to admit that he was really good looking.

His face an even mix between sharp edges and soft rounds, his dark chocolate eyes almost black, strands of his salt and pepper hair falling into his forehead, unintentionally though it looks like it had been styled like this for hours. And his body, now that he had shed his jacket you could see the muscle straining his shirt by his arms and chest – those buttons were fighting for their life when he moved his arms – his suit trousers hugging his thighs so well. And those hands, slightly veiny, long fingers, you wondered what he could do with-

Suddenly the car came to a halt, and you stopped your anything but appropriate thoughts. Before you could even reach into your purse, Mads had already paid the driver and opened the door, offering you his hand once more after he climbed out himself.

Gladly you excepted his hand and let him pull you out of the car, after you wished the driver a good night. Mads’ arm found it’s way back around you, this time coming to rest at the small of your back.

The two of you entered the hotel, got your key cards, and then went into an elevator. On the ride up you could feel the heat from his hand – that was still nestled against your lower back – slowly spreading into the rest of your body.

Slowly you could also feel the heat setting root in your core and wetness pooling in your panties.

You were sure that Mads could also feel the tension and hot sparks that were flying between you.

A quiet ding brought you back into reality.

Though your rooms were on the same floor, yours was on the left while his room was to the right. However, you made no move towards it and let Mads hand guide you to his room. Both of you were aware of how this was going to play out.

At the thought of how this night would end you could feel your heartrate picking up again and your anticipation growing.

Mads held the key card against the door before opening it and guiding you inside. He closed it behind him, his hand momentarily leaving its place on your back.

He locked the door before turning to you again, a smile spreading on both of your faces.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” he told you while making a few steps towards you.

“Well, I met this really handsome guy who showed me some kindness and made me feel a lot better,” you answered, deciding to play his game.

“Oh, did you really? And he was handsome, you say? Hmm... who could that have been?” he questioned teasingly, now standing directly in front of you.

Instead of answering him, you leaned forward and connected your lips before wrapping your hand around his neck. He immediately melted into the kiss and rested his hands on your hips.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to get heated, his tongue demanding entrance into your mouth. He swallowed your moans as he started to explore your mouth with his tongue, his hands starting to wander over your body. His hands on your body felt incredible, how they wandered over your hips, to your waist, to your shoulders where you could finally feel his hands against your bare skin and then back downwards again.

Slowly you started to move the two of you closer to the bed. Kicking off your high heels while Mads pushed his jacket from your shoulders, exposing your arms and back to him, you were now only wearing your dress. His lips left yours and started to wander down your throat, his hands now on your waist pulling your body flush to his.

You let your head fall back, giving him more space to kiss. While he was busy with your neck you loosened his tie and started to unbutton his shirt. After opening the first few buttons with slightly shaky hands you let your hand glide over the now exposed skin, Mads hands on your hips tightening at the action.

Opening the button on his trouser, you pulled his shirt free and opened it up completely. As if in a hurry you clumsily pushed it off his shoulders. Mads momentarily broke the kiss to rid himself of his shirt and trousers, only his boxers remaining.

He immediately connected his lips with yours again, his hands wandering to the zip on your back, slowly, almost teasingly, pulling it down and exposing more of your skin inch by inch. His hands left your body, to pull down the straps of your dress.

Now that nothing was holding it up anymore, it fell from your body and pooled around your legs, your body now completely exposed to his eyes.

With still closed eyes he pulled away from your lips, only opening them again to eye your body, his eyes full of lust. The only piece of clothing that remained on your frame was your small slip.

Making eye contact with him, you slowly hooked your fingers into it, slowly pulling down your panties, exposing your glistening cunt to his eyes.

He grabbed a hold of your hips again and pushed you back onto the bed, chasing your body with his, never leaving too much space between you. He laid down on top of you, the only thing that were still separating you were his boxes.

While you start kissing him again, one of your hands starts teasing the waistline of his pants. With an impatient grunt from his side and a chuckle – both muffled by your mouths moving against each other – your hands slides underneath and grabs a hold of his hard cock.

Mads hands – that were resting on either side of your head – almost gave in ant the feeling of you finally stroking his aching dick. His kiss grows more heated as his hand wanders towards your core, returning the favour.

You let out a long moan as you felt his veiny hand making contact with your wet pussy. With ease he slides through your folds, collecting the wetness from your hole and spreading it over your clit, then repeating the process. Speeding up your strokes, he started to exclusively circle your clit, making you writhe beneath him.

He breaks the kiss before pressing his forehead against yours.

“You’re driving me insane. I’m so close from you just touching me.”, he whispers against your lips before moving his face into the crook of your neck. You could feel him starting to thrust into your hand, urging you to stroke him faster.

“I’m close too.”, you pant into his ear that is now directly next to your lips. You turn your head an d start planting light kisses against his temple while speeding up your strokes. Bucking your hips into his hand when he too becomes quicker, you can feel your high being only seconds away.

“I’m gonna cum!”, you say breathlessly before getting lost in your orgasm. You can feel Mads breath against your neck – erratic and heavy – as he releases into your hand, ruining his boxers in the process. The moans of your name while he came were the thing that triggered your own release, your body starting to convulse. Now his name was falling from your lips, your voice shaky from pleasure.

Slowly you both halt your movements and start to catch your breath. You pull your hand from his boxers, pulling the soft fabric down his thighs. He gets the hint and stands up, granting you an incredible view of his toned body as he rids himself of his now stained underwear.

He made eye contact with you while pulling the fabric down his legs, an easy smile appearing on his lips as he saw you pressing your thighs together.

Mads joined you on the bed, his body covering yours again. Instead of staying like this, he leans back to sit on his haunches, his cock now standing tall against his stomach, almost meeting the belly button with his tip. He hooks his fingers into the sides of your underwear, slowly pulling them down your legs, torturing not just you but himself too.

Throwing the now useless piece of fabric to the side, he used both of his hands to spread your legs, just looking at your glistening cunt. You could see the hunger, the longing in his eyes.

“Fuck, that pussy is so pretty. If I wasn’t so impatient, I’d taste you now. But the nights still young,” he mutters, almost just to himself. You could feel yourself getting impatient, but before you could complain he leans over you again, one hand next to your head, the other one still spreading your legs.

He moves it now to grip his leaking cock, his cum the perfect lube. Gently, he runs the head of his cock through your folds, circling your clit. Once he feels he toyed with you enough, he moves to your entrance, slowly pushing the head of his cock inside of your hole.

Both of you let out a sigh of relief as Mads sinks inside of you. Leaving his cock now, his hand finds a place at your hip, rubbing gentle circles on your skin as he fully sinks inside of you.

Once Mads bottoms out, you feel like he’s in your stomach, his thick length creating a slight bulge at the front of your lower stomach. He leaves you a moment to adjust before he starts to move inside of you.

Slowly, he lets his cock sink inside of your tight hole before pulling out again, setting a slow pace for the both of you.

Not being able to handle his torturous strokes, you wrap your legs around his slim waist, pulling him closer to you, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

With every thrust you could feel him getting closer to your g-spot, his cock so deliciously deep inside you.

Now that you were thinking about it – though you weren’t thinking about much in that moment – he was the biggest (and best) you ever had. The way his veins dragged along your slick walls, his tip now hitting that gummy spot inside of you, the hair atop his cock stimulating your clit with every thrust.

It was truly magical.

“This is so much better than I imagined it, love. Your pussy feels so good wrapped around my cock. Fuck, so tight,” he groans into your ear, his hips speeding up their movements.

Your pulse quickened and you let out a moan at the thought of him imagining this over and over in his head. That thought almost brought you to your second high that night.

Mads was now repeatedly hitting your g-spot, moans now slipping freely from between your lips.

“Fuck Mads, I’m so close,” you pant into his ear, your nails slowly digging into his muscular shoulders.

“Me too, love, me too. Come with me. I want to feel that tight pussy squeezing me, milking me. Cum for me,” he almost demands before starting to relentlessly pound into you, tipping both of you over the edge.

He came with a shout of your name, filling you up with his thick cum while you were pulsing around him, gripping him even tighter. His head went into the crook of your neck as you both calmed down and evened out your breathing.

You unwrapped your legs from his hips, your hands drawing mindless shapes onto his back.

Once you had both calmed down a bit, he pulled out and went to the bathroom to get a towel. He gently cleaned you, before cleaning himself, dressing you in one of his boxers, before laying down next to you.

He engulfed you in his thick arms, your back flush to his chest, his nose burring itself in your hair.

“I think we should do this more often,” you told him before drifting off and his deep chuckle was the last thing you heard.

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