#where to go in bali with kids

[astonmartinii]

who's afraid of little old me? | [guilty as sin part six] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x sainz!reader

alls well that ends well.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

maxverstappen1

liked by pepemarti, oscarpiastri and 1,934,209 others

tagged: kimiantonelli, yourusername & charles_leclerc

maxverstappen1: ootd for court!

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user379: HE’S SUING CARLOS?

user380: i think i saw that he’s in switzerland which means he’s probably referring to the court of arbitration for sport

user381: so red bull defo have the data to back up the claim that carlos purposefully crashed into max?

user382: they’d be stupid not to have it and still risk going to CAS

user383: so how do i go about getting into the court room?

yourusername: it’s not particularly weird that i’ve taken my brother to court, but it was weird that i’ve now done it twice

maxverstappen1: save some court dates for the rest of us

oscarpiastri: soooooooo selfish of you

yourusername: well at least we all get to come this time!

charles_leclerc: can our next group trip please be to somewhere fun like ibiza or bali not COURT

yourusername: why? i clearly love it here?

charles_leclerc: but you love me more?

yourusername: why do you think i keep getting dragged to court?

maxverstappen1: because your brother is a prick?

yourusername: well there’s also that

user384: so like who is going to be live blogging this?

user385: can you live blog court proceedings?

user386: why haven’t sky managed to get ted kravitz in the court room?

user387: if i have to listen to him slander max for the rest of the year it’s the least they could do…

olliebearman: omg the silence in the comment section @yourusername you should’ve sued him sooner

maxverstappen1: hey! i’m the one suing him give me the credit

yourusername: yeah sorry ollie, unfortunately carlos sued ME the last time

pepemarti: @charles_leclerc i still think you’re a pussy for not speaking up during this…

charles_leclerc: I KNOW

charles_leclerc: I’M SORRY

yourusername: it’s okay baby, i’ve forgiven you

pepemarti: i haven’t

charles_leclerc: okay?

yourusername: he’s just protective 🥰

charles_leclerc: what the hell sure

user388: pepe marti i am fond of you

user389: surely one of these grid kids will live tweet?

yourusername: do NOT tempt them with a good time

WHAT ON EARTH IS HAPPENING IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS (CAS?)

By BBC Sport

14:30

One of the most high-profile court cases in sport kicked off earlier this month and the rest of the world has been left baffled by the proceedings.

Max Verstappen, and his team Red Bull Racing, have taken Carlos Sainz, Ferrari driver for the 2024 season, to the Court of Arbitration for Sport following their crash in Azerbaijan.

The final lap at the circuit in Baku saw Sainz storm into the side of Verstappen’s Red Bull, pushing both cars into the concrete barriers at the street circuit. Although neither driver were seriously injured, Verstappen was kept overnight in the hospital for precautions, while Sainz was able to hop straight out of his wrecked car and into his private jet to his picturesque holiday spot.

Verstappen, ever the joker, immediately ran to social media where alongside his gang of other drivers and friend Y/N Sainz poked at the situation. It wasn’t until a couple of days after the incident that Sky Sports reported that Red Bull were enquiring into the possibility that this crash was on purpose, perhaps even with malicious intent.

The much-needed context to this crash doesn’t come from an on-track incident, in fact, it hardly has much to do with the sport at all. Y/N Sainz is an integral figure in this controversy. Earlier this year when it was revealed that her brother, Carlos, wouldn’t be resigning with Ferrari in favour of Lewis Hamilton, Carlos lashed out and revealed his sister’s years-long secret relationship with Sainz’s teammate at the time, Charles Leclerc.

Both Carlos Sainz Jr and Sr immediately threw accusations against their own blood of backstabbing and betrayal, despite it being very clear that Y/N Sainz was none the wiser to Ferrari’s move.

Y/N Sainz is far removed from Formula 1 aside from her relation to Carlos and her relationship with Charles. Y/N Sainz is a successful author who prior to this incident seemed to be in good favour with her family.

Amongst the fallout, further accusations flew from both parties. Y/N accused her father and brother of attempting to sell her off in the paddock for favours from teams while her brother and father regurgitated their points of her supposedly being a ‘gold digger’.

The first round of this controversy also culminated in a courtroom. Sainz Sr took his own daughter to court, claiming that he was entitled to all of her earnings from her book sales. It must also be noted here that those court proceedings exposed that Y/N had never had a bank account of her own, rather that all of her earnings were funnelled to her father to which she was then given a stipend.

Y/N won that court case, as it’ll be likely that her close friend Verstappen will win his. It was ordered that Sainz Sr had to pay back all of her earnings alongside damages. However, it was not the win she had hoped for as Ferrari had a gag order on her boyfriend, meaning she went through the proceedings alone, with distant support from Verstappen and Oscar Piastri.

Following worldwide outrage, this gag order was dropped and the pair were reunited and attended races again as a united front - even picking up a group of rookies that stuck to the side of Y/N.

Leclerc even commented following the crash that he felt it was meant for him, which reinforced the theory that it was premeditated. We’ll keep you updated as the court proceedings continue.

15:30

It is to BBC’s understanding that texts between Sainz Jr and Sr have been revealed to the court that imply a plan to cause as much damage before they are ousted at the end of the season. The texts themselves do not state that Verstappen was the intended target, that incident seemed to be a crime of opportunity. Rather, that Ferrari and Leclerc were the targets of their rage but fortunately for Leclerc in Baku, he was simply too fast for Sainz to catch.

Amongst the texts was on damning one, ‘I’ll put that mongasque cunt in the wall as many times as I can to make sure Y/N can only have her happily ever after with a cripple or a headstone’.

It’s shaping up to be a slam dunk against Carlos Sainz as Red Bull prepare to present their telemetry evidence.

16:45

Our court side reporter states that Red Bull’s telemetry data was damning. Another ‘betrayal’ for the male Sainz contingent as Ferrari happily complied with Red Bull’s investigation, handing over all of the data which conclusively proved that Sainz purposefully crashed into and endangered Max Verstappen.

We now just wait on the final verdict.

17:38

GUILTY!

Carlos Sainz Jr has been given a guilty verdict for endangering a fellow athlete with malicious intent. The Court of Arbitration of Sport has ruled that Sainz is hereby banned from Formula One indefinitely. He will not complete his final season with Ferrari and his entry to the paddock will be monitored on a case-by-case basis.

This is a landmark ruling in the sport but you can’t help but think it was necessary. The sport is dangerous enough, it was simply too dangerous to have a man who admitted in texts to wanting to inflict as much damage as possible on another driver.

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, pepemarti and 2,762,092 others

yourusername: family is not always the people you are born to but the people who you find along the way

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user390: yeah sis this is cute and all but like your biggest opp just got taken out back and shot let’s dance on his grave a lil bit

pepemarti: dw i’m doing the hoedown throwdown for the whole team 🫡

user391: you’ve just earned stanship good sir

pepemarti: i don’t play about my first celebrity crush

yourusername: you’re making me feel old josep

charles_leclerc: also can you like stop doing the hoedown throwdown you’re being the worst upstairs neighbour ever right now

pepemarti: just because carlos plotted to kill you doesn’t mean you have to take my shine 😖

user391: this is all a bit chill for idk the historic court ruling that just happened

user392: i mean if i were them i’d be getting crunk and celebrating

user393: one of them is literally doing the hoedown throwdown right now???

oscarpiastri: you guys don’t even want to know what max is doing right now

yourusername: yeah lets keep that off the internet for now

user394: not even one morsel queen?

charles_leclerc: max has been arguing (with himself) for an HOUR over how he should give y/n away at her wedding because he BASICALLY DIED for her

maxverstappen1: i don’t detect any lies…

yourusername: you didn’t die though did you

maxverstappen1: i COULD HAVE???

maxverstappen1: if carlos’ aim was better i would be splattered across the concrete walls of baku…

kimiantonelli: GROSS

maxverstappen1: i know kimi, it is gross that they’re minimising my trauma

charles_leclerc: okay buddy we bought you a couple gin and tonics for your trouble

maxverstappen1: SILENCE BOY

yourusername: how could we possibly repay you max?

maxverstappen1: charles could let me past on track?

charles_leclerc: i would rather let carlos make road kill of you

yourusername: CHARLES?

charles_leclerc: too soon?

maxverstappen1: and to think i was going to offer to take lando out for you?

yourusername: you don’t really need prompting for that?

maxverstappen1: it’s the thought that counts !!!

olliebearman: i know linkedin is sick of my ass

olliebearman: thanks for the ferrari drive charles, max and y/n!!!!

yourusername: what the hell, sure you’re welcome ollie

maxverstappen1: i know how you can repay me…

charles_leclerc: don’t listen to him ollie!

maxverstappen1: just got the biggest pain in your ass sent to the shadow realm but god forbid i ask for a cheeky tow

user395: after the absolute shitshow that was the ferrari gag order and the first trial… i prayed for times like this

user396: what will i do now i no longer have carlos to dunk on?

oscarpiastri: real haters find a way

f1

liked by maxverstappen1, olliebearman and 1,308,293 others

tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri & charles_leclerc

f1: you might have been distracted by the off track drama… but we’re back and the title battle is probably a lot closer than you think… lando is leading the championship, with oscar following three points behind and charles just four points back from him. can ferrari finally clinch a championship in the second half of the season?

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user397: oh i lowkey forgot about this sport

user398: i was too deep in the how to get away with murder court room drama

user399: you people are what’s wrong with the sport

user400: and not the guy who tried to kill another driver based on the fact that he’s insecure about his sister’s relationship

user401: bro gets indefinitely banned from the sport for a malicious crash and somehow “DTS fangirls” are still the issue for these men

user402: make it make sense

charles_leclerc: what off track drama?

yourusername: we were just enjoying a family trip to switzerland

maxverstappen1: a very cultural trip i will say

olliebearman: the chocolate was yummers

oscarpiastri: never say yummers again

olliebearman: omg god forbid i want to get whimsy with my language choices

oscarpiastri: i think if anyone here is the authority on words it’s the literal author

yourusername: i ain’t getting involved in this nonsense

olliebearman: Y/N ???

user403: oh she really is a MOTHER

user404: I can’t believe my favourite driver has been banned because his sister couldn’t keep it in her pants

user405: and charles kept it in his?

user404: well yes he was clearly seduced

user406: how has this been an argument for over a year and yall are still coming to this conclusion

user407: it’s called hating women babe

user408: but like what do i do with my carlos merch now

user409: you still had that shit?

kimiantonelli: burn it!!!!

yourusername: kimi no!

kimiantonelli: kimi yes!

charles_leclerc: oh wait there’s a damn championship to win

charles_leclerc: idk how to focus just on racing after the past year omg

yourusername: get to winning mr

charles_leclerc: for you, of course

yourusername: i might be in love with you, hopelessly so, but i’m still a part of the tifosi HURRY UP

user410: y/n’s priorities have always been the realest

olliebearman: she just made me cookies and then said if i don’t protect charles from the world’s greatest evil (mclaren) then i’m disowned

landonorris: how are we the worlds greatest evil when your brother and dad plotted to kill charles and nearly killed max

yourusername: i thought i had you blocked?

landonorris: I’M SORRY

yourusername: i… don’t give a fuck - sorry!

charles_leclerc

liked by olliebearman, maxverstappen1 and 3,109,377 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: it’s been a tough ol year this one. alongside a tough title battle, we’ve fought tough personal battles as well. no matter what happens tomorrow, i will forever be grateful to have the most wonderful woman at my side. i love you y/n, this is the start of the rest of our life and i’ll do whatever i can to make you the happiest woman in the world.

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user411: tough personal battles - and it was him having no backbone

user412: i mean in the court case it literally came out he had a gag order…

user413: well he should sort his gag reflex and get to sucking off

user413: the metaphor got wholly lost there my bad

user413: point is they would’ve had to put my ass in space to keep me from my love who also happens to be the Y/N SAINZ

user414: always saying what we’re all thinking

charles_leclerc: i’m not sucking off fred

user415: i don’t think -

yourusername: oh baby there’s a reason i’m the writer in this household

charles_leclerc: let me live !!!

user416: oh i am so glad that bros biggest personal battle now is reading comprehension

user417: happens to the best of us

user418: idk my brain doesn’t automatically go to sucking off my boss

charles_leclerc: I DIDN’T REALISE

charles_leclerc: IT WAS A BAD METAPHOR

charles_leclerc: @user414 you will pay for your crimes

maxverstappen1: bro can’t read lol

charles_leclerc: SHUT THE FUCK UP

charles_leclerc: did i or did i not write a very cute caption for this post

yourusername: yes! it is very lovely darling

charles_leclerc: HAH

user417: personally i think i could make y/n happier if i am given the chance

charles_leclerc: nuh uh

user418: bro is scared

charles_leclerc: no !!!

user419: he knows he’s outnumbered

oscarpiastri: he’s started pacing

yourusername: guys, i appreciate the sentiment but please refrain from threatening my boyfriend

user420: i demand a TRIAL BY COMBAT

yourusername: girl this ain’t game of thrones

user421: just because charles won’t fight for your hand…

charles_leclerc: YES I WILL I’LL FIGHT ALL OF YOU

olliebearman: my dad has officially gone crazy - and before i solidly made it into the will, you hate to see it

pepemarti: i can’t believe i’m missing out on a charles meltdown 😩

oscarpiastri: he’s shadow boxing with max and i’m pretty sure max is just biding his time to get a hit in on him

maxverstappen1: and that’s for the inchident motherfucker

yourusername: okay! time to stop!

charles_leclerc: this was meant to be a nice post 😖

yourusername: you know i love you baby

yourusername: let’s go win this championship

maxverstappen1: or lose it to me, i don’t mind

charles_leclerc: MAX???

yourusername: really?

maxverstappen1: omg he could win his first championship and now a man can’t make a joke?

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 3,987,019 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: i won’t make this post all about karma, but good things come to those who wait… i’m overwhelmingly proud of my boy that i don’t quite know how to put it into words. there’s just something about seeing the person you love achieve their dreams, it’s otherworldly, just like charles. you said this was the start of the rest of our lives? i couldn’t think of a better way to start

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user422: well if you won't i will

user423: KARMA

fernandoalo_oficial: karma

user424: FERNANDO?

fernandoalo_oficial: KARMA! do i make myself clear

user425: omg the old man said fuck that guy

user426: the two carlos fans left just fell to their knees

user427: TWO? generous.

olliebearman: i COULD !!!!

charles_leclerc: oliver, no meddling

olliebearman: you just won the championship would it kill you to be a little more fun?

charles_leclerc: as much as i love you peoples annoyingly persistent presence in my life, lets leave some things to us

olliebearman: ANNOYING?

olliebearman: after i just won you a championship?

yourusername: ollie...

olliebearman: did i or did i not hold up lando?

landonorris: for like three laps?

olliebearman: CEASE SPEAKING TO ME

charles_leclerc: thank you ollie, those three laps 100% did it

olliebearman: you're welcome ☺️

yourusername: he's such a good dad omg

maxverstappen1: that's one way to put it

user428: bro won the world championship and immediately went into dad mode

user429: i fear y/n might need to make the man a father

oscarpiastri: HE'S A FATHER ALREADY

kimiantonelli: us erasure

pepemarti: there's not enough room for an actual child sorry

yourusername: ???

charles_leclerc: you guys are not helping in any way ever for anything

charles_leclerc: i don't think it'll set in for a long while, but i know now and forever that i love you and that i'm glad you've been by my side through all of it

yourusername: the pleasure has been all mine

maxverstappen1: believe me WE KNOW

yourusername: MAX?

maxverstappen1: sorry i just 100% heard you guys in the drivers room and am SCARRED but yeah you guys go back to being all lovey dovey

kimiantonelli: drivers room?

maxverstappen1: i protected your innocence, never say i don't do things for you people again

user430: well at least we know he didn't just get lucky on track

yourusername: gUYS?

charles_leclerc: anyway!

charles_leclerc: i love you !!! and your strength has inspired me since i met you and all throughout this season!

yourusername: i need you to know that i love you and i would do this all again 100 times if i meant that i would still be with you and see us achieve our dreams

charles_leclerc: you have my heart, forever and always

yourusername: as do you, you're my 1

user431: they're so sickeningly sweet

user432: thinking about a wedding... i might die

user433: it's defo happening - i can see right through you ollie

olliebearman: I SAID NOTHING

charles_leclerc: ugh. ollie !!!!!

yourusername: be patient charles - you chose him as a kid

charles_leclerc: well let me know when we can make our own and we can get busy

maxverstappen1: ENOUGH.

fin. EPILOGUE COMING SOON...

note: yes guys i did fall into a hole and forget about this blog - jokes! but life did get super busy, so i just had to get this out before i go on holiday this weekend !!! i hope you enjoyed and can now enjoy reading guilty as sin in its entirety (well, nearly). i have a long journey so i will be working on my other WIPs lol don't worry.

taglist: @2pagenumb @marshmummy @dullypully @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @minkyungseokie @sarah-thatstings-ann @callsignwidow @six-call @babyphotos0325 @velentine @honethatty12 @halleest @bruinsfan234 @woozarts @jaydaaasworld @random-human02 @blueberry64857959 @shimmermotorsport @xoscar03 @danielshoe @deamus-liv @jiminssmallpinkyy @eugene-emt-roe @emryb @aadu2173 @rhythmstars @booksandflowrs @2bormaybenot @firelily-mimi @evie-119 @mehrsdigitaldiary @sltwins @bibissparkles @evans-dejong @eiaaasamantha @23victoria @venusacrossthestars @boywondrgrayson @rare2306 @sinarainbows @chaoticbouquetangel @awritingtree @armystay89 @ggrgcribg @ct2302 @czennieszn @swangelss @sumlovesjude @hashmiya @airsky27 @chaoticbouquetangel @chenlesbitxh @iamkaku @scorpiomindfuck @samantha-chicago @trevuorzegras @personwhoisther @green-thots @madszoca @silentreader128 @buckybarnessweetheart @justzluv@toldyouitwasamelodrama @crowsnfrogs @charlesgirl16 @reguluscrystals @hiireadstuff @destinyg237 @mael1pastry @sweet-creature98 @changetyre @eclipsedcherry @its-elias-world @brune77e @exotic-iris13 @alenix @sheridamn @boherahpsody @e-nonsense @vogueprincess @loloekie @dckgzz @cluvsya

[giuseppe-yuki]

money, money, money

normal!max verstappen x billionaire!reader

w.c.: 6.8k

warnings: curse words, allusions to sex, RUDE people, sprinkle of angst (?)

summary: you introduce max to the good and bad sides of having money.

a/n: roughly inspired by crazy rich asians- one of my fav movies!!!

edit: bonus birthday oneshot :)

photo credits from pinterest :)

it was no secret to the majority of the world that your bloodline was rich- filthy rich. with your father’s side of the family owning the equivalent of half a small country and your mother’s side of the family the owners of several major corporations, you had no lack of paper bills in your bank accounts.

along with your siblings and your cousins, you grew up pampered, only going to your country’s best schools and wearing only the latest fashion. you were picked up by a chauffeur in a personal sleek black bentley and had a team of maids at your beck and call. hell, you were even granted access to a private jet in case you wanted to fly somewhere exotic just for fun!

as a child without a sense of the value of money, you thought all children lived like this. every birthday, you expected only the very best from your parents. on your sixth birthday, your parents closed down disneyland and let the kids rampage throughout the park. for your cousin’s grade school graduation, your aunt bought an entire cruise liner (company) and held a week-long party on the water to celebrate. when your little brother passed his driver’s license, your father bought him a customized ferrari pista (that he might have crashed three days in) as his first car. when christmas came by, your grandma flew in your entire family to her private island in first class, and surprised all the kids with their very own mini play homes in the backyard that were each the size of a small apartment. 

slowly, as you matured, you realized how lucky you were. while eating the caviar and champagne at the expensive gala, the homeless were out in the cold, eating the leftover crusts in oily crumpled pizza boxes that they fished out of the trash. each dollar in your bank accounts could go to sick children whose parents couldn’t pay the hospital bills for, and instead, they were going to mega yachts that sat in the monaco bay most of the year. besides, wouldn’t your parents' money run out some time? 

it seemed that many of your cousins and siblings didn’t give a fuck. you watched them exponentially abuse their power, blowing through thousands of grands for luxury cars they drove only once and exclusive rooftop parties where they swam in pools of champagne. one by one, you saw them drop out of school and spend every day as the life of the party. once they rapidly grew out of the excuse of being “young, naive, and not knowing better” their reputation to the general public became “spoiled and out-of-touch” with society. 

you of course, weren’t totally exempt from this. you had to admit that you occasionally spent a few k on a nice little bag for yourself, or had an occasional trip to bali for some sun. however, you focused much more on your studies and helping others than partying. instead of spending your draining your mother’s company assets, wouldn’t it be better to have your own? why wield a black card embellished with your father’s name in gold when it could be your own name? with your own money, you could also donate huge amounts to people in need- all under your name.

slowly, you built up your own credible business using the knowledge you gained, and it soon skyrocketed into a world-wide profitable company. 

even with such success however, all your siblings and cousins laughed at you. running a company? they had chuckled, in their balenciaga suits and miu miu dresses. why do such tedious work when you can just marry into a rich family?

rich family, you scoff, looking at one of your cousins at the yearly family party that your family threw. though she was dressed to the nines, hair done up and jewelry glistening on her neck, she looked absolutely miserable. her husband, that everyone knew she had just married “for the money” stood on the opposite end of the room, flirting unashamedly with a rather uncomfortable looking waiter. that was really funny, considering that your cousin had been bragging about how much her husband loved her at the last function. she had even shoved a picture of her next to a humongous flower bouquet into your face, teasingly stating how “you never had this experience before, huh?”

your brother wasn’t that much different. although he looked rather successful with a big quarter of your mother’s company stocks, you knew that he was in major debt from burning through his bank accounts gambling at casinos around the world. he paraded around the room with his wife, who hung on his arm so proudly, but only because she didn’t know a thing. if you hinted at your brother’s little “problem,” you knew that she would have the divorce papers ready by afternoon the next day. 

as the party went on and the alcohol broke down the painstakingly-built facades of your family’s relationships, you began to stop envying their so-called perfect lives. you realized that all they knew about was money. what did they know about love?

love to you was a kind man with blue eyes that crinkled whenever he smiled at you, light brown hair that was oh-so-soft to run through with your hands, and a soothing voice with a twinge of an accent and slight lisp. love smelled like his soft cologne, and tasted like the spiced sweetbreads he would bake on the weekends. 

max was the total opposite from the cocky and money-hungry douchebags from your home country that were more attracted to your wallet and family influence, which was what you liked about him. even the way you met him was different. usually, the men would make it all about themselves, trying to impress you with their “achievements” (owning three ferraris is not a keystone achievement, david) or throwing technical jargon at you to sound smart. if you somehow invited them on a second date, they always showed up late and would tear off their clothes the second they got in the house, expecting to get to third base immediately. however, you met max through a friend of a friend at a small party in monaco. he could barely look you in the eyes and stuttered through his sentences, which you found quite refreshing compared to the arrogant guys that you usually encountered. on your first date, he got you some rather wilty looking tulips, but also brought some homemade bread that you swore was the best you ever ate. on the second date, he yapped about all the flags of all the countries he knew, but you didn’t mind because he let you ramble your own interests after. before long, you moved in with him in his apartment on the edge of monaco, and had the honor of calling him your boyfriend.

so now, lying in his arms on his tiny bed, you felt more at home than ever. 

the sunlight streams in through the windows above his bed, casting a glow across his face and filtering through his impossibly long eyelashes. you take a minute to admire the angelic scene, before one his cats leaps off of who-knows-where and jumps on his face. 

he yelps, and unwinds his arm from around you to softly push who you assume to be sassy away from his head. 

you flash a glare at sassy for ruining such a nice moment, before picking her up and attempt to “throw” her off the bed. 

unfortunately, max yanks her out of your hands before you are able to.

“hey!” he says in a chastising tone. “be nice to sassy. i’m sure she didn’t mean to.” 

max sits up on the bed and gives sassy a few head scratches before placing a kiss on her soft head. sassy meows at you, which you swear is in a mocking tone. across the room, jimmy sprints over and takes a spot next to max, purring for head scratches too, effectively pushing you off the bed. 

you didn’t understand how your boyfriend couldn’t see that his cats were literally devils. you were basically subject to their abuse every day (i.e. random ankle attacks, knocking over all you fragile items, unplugging your devices, cat hair in your food, and the worst one, stealing max away from you). scowling, you surrender your rightful spot on the bed and pad into the kitchen in your slippers to start the coffee. 

it’s not until both the coffee and breakfast is ready when max finally enters the kitchen, now freshly dressed. the cats scamper around his feet, curling lovingly around his ankles. 

“sorry about that, baby.” he says, pulling out his chair and taking a seat in front of his plate of food. “jimmy and sassy just wanted some love.”

you roll your eyes before settling down into your own seat.

he spears a few sausage links and eggs into his mouth before glancing at the clock. eyes widening, he shoves the rest of the food into his mouth and chugs down the hot coffee.

“so sorry, i have to run!” he sputters out, “i’m going to be late to my engineering meeting!”

he dashes to the bedroom to grab his bag before running back into the kitchen to press a kiss to your cheek in goodbye. 

“have fun at work too, baby!” he yells before the front door slams closed. 

sighing, you finish your plate before washing the dishes in the sink. he was always late for his engineering job at a small office in downtown monaco. max somehow always got to his office in time though, but probably because he raced his little yellow renault clio rs on the streets like he was some type of formula one driver. meanwhile, you had your “work” at home (which typically meant one phone call to your secretary to make sure everything was running smoothly, a quick scroll through your company accounts, and then netflix on the couch).

from the time you met to the time you started dating, you never got to telling max about your family history or your job. it was actually kind of unbelievable that he didn’t notice actually, even when all your clothes were covertly designer and heels were always red bottoms, or when you seemingly traveled out of the country every other weekend for company meetings. however, he never asked, so you never told. 

well, that was until he came home that night. 

his footsteps echo on the ground as he walks out from the bathroom, but stops before he gets into the kitchen

“hey baby,” he says, tilting his head. “what’s this?”

you stop stirring the pasta sauce, looking back to see your freshly showered boyfriend questioningly glancing at your open macbook on the couch.

you must have forgotten to close out of your company bank account tab. quickly, you throw the spoon aside, slam the laptop shut, and throw it to the side. 

“that’s nothing, baby.” you say, rushing back to the kitchen and stirring the bubbling red mixture again. 

“oh-kay…” he says, walking up behind you and reaching over to help strain the pasta noodles. 

while straining the water out in the sink, he flashes you a quick glance. “was it like…” he whispers quietly. “adult material or something?? is that why you didn’t want me to see it?” 

what? 

you look back him, an unimpressed look at your face. “adult material, max???” you repeat back at him. “no. i was not watching adult material on my work laptop.”

“okay, whatever you say, baby.” max says, clearly not believing you. clearing his throat, he continues. “so, um… anyways, my coworker george was talking about how he met his boyfriend alex's parents over the weekend, and i realized that i never met your parents before. do you think we can maybe pay them a visit?"

you freeze, halfway sliding out a plate of garlic bread from the oven. 

“i- um, don’t think that’s wise, maxie.” you reply quietly.

your boyfriend wrinkles his brow. he stops the plating of the noodles and walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“is it…is it because they are assholes?” he asks, looking at you seriously. “cause it’s okay if they are- i understand, because my dad…my dad is not very kind either.”

you can’t help to think about your family in your home country. you could never take your maxie there. they would rip him to shreds, degrading him for being rather plain and destitute compared to them. you would never want to put your boyfriend through your parents, either, who would probably criticize him for wanting to marry you just for the money, even if max didn’t know a goddamn thing about how you earned your funds. 

you rub your face. “no, it’s not that.” you sigh, “i- mean- it’s just complicated over there in my home country. i don’t want you to feel pressure or uncomfortable-”

max cuts you off with a hug, and presses a kiss to your cheek. “i really don’t mind, baby. i’d really like to meet the people who made such a kind and beautiful person like you.”

you blush a little at his words. even if you have an uneasy feeling to your stomach, you nod lightly. it can’t be that bad, right?

if you were to take max over to your home country, there was no doubt he would be exposed to your massive fame and influence there. to slowly ease him into the more luxurious side of your life, you first introduce the luxuries of a private jet the day you take off from the airport.

“a private JET???” your boyfriend shrieks, looking at his speciality boarding pass. 

hurriedly, you shush him to avoid the glares of other travelers within a yelling distance of you both. 

“max, please be quiet.” you hiss into his ear. “yes, it says private jet.” 

maneuvering your cart with your lv-branded luggage to the side of the terminal, along with max’s one small carry-on and two pet cages with the reincarnations of the devil inside, you pull out your phone to check the location of the driver who would take you to the separate private-jet entrance. 

like magic, he materializes behind you, tapping you on the shoulder. 

politely, he takes your horde of luggages and max’s items before politely gesturing towards a massive black lincoln that was definitely not parked there before. 

“this way miss,” he says curtly, before reaching forward to open the car door for you. 

max, snapping out of his confusion, snaps his hand out first and roughly yanks the door open, and nearly hitting both you and the driver. 

“i’ll open the door for my own girlfriend, thanks!” he retorts, glaring suspiciously at the driver, who just shrugs and starts loading the luggage into the back of the car.

when max climbs into the spacious back of the lincoln, you can’t help but giggle into your hand. 

“max, you need to relax,” you laugh, placing a calming hand on max’s leg. “he’s my driver. it’s his job to open the door, okay?”

your boyfriend sniffs, pouting a little. 

“fine.”

after boarding the jet and ascending safely into the air, you settle into your padded chair. meanwhile, max runs around the jet like a little kid, pointing out the “special features,” much to the amusement of the staff. 

“omg, baby, look!” he yells, pointing at a wooden-paneled door behind your chair. “the bathroom is huge!” 

you nod, and hum in agreement, sparing a quick glance at max, who was opening and closing the door as if it would change what was behind it. 

he then charges toward a cabinet near the middle of the plane, which is stuffed to the brim with your favorite snacks. “wow!” he shouts, before sprinting towards a similar cabinet further down, which you know is the alcohol storage area. 

there’s a moment of silence before max steps into view with three gin and tonics and one of your favorite drinks in hand. he carefully sets them down in front of you, batting away a disgruntled-looking bartender who held a half-open bottle of gin that you assumed he was in the middle of pouring when max snatched the bottle away. 

you apologize profusely to the bartender while max watches on, straight up chugging his drinks. 

“this is wild!!” he whispers, pointing to the cups in front of him.

no more than five minutes after sending the bartender away with a little tip, max has already finished two of his three gin and tonics and was already bounding out of his seat to explore the rest of the plane. 

once you hear his exclamations of joy from the back of the plane, you know he has discovered the master bedroom.

before you have a chance to take a sip of your own drink, max basically pounces on you and drags you towards the private bedroom. your boyfriend pushes you onto the soft bed, yells out the door. 

“give us a little bit of privacy, okay?” he shouts to no one in particular, before slamming the door shut. 

he turns back to your figure lying spread-eagle in the bed, and wiggles his eyebrows. 

max is the first one to talk after you both lay on the bed, lips swollen and cheeks red. 

“so…?” he says, running a hand down your back. 

“so… what?” you ask, looking up at him from your position sprawled on top of him. from your point of view, you could feel the slight rise and fall of his chest, his slightly damp hair, and the way his blue, blue eyes study your face. 

“so, when were you going to tell me that you were…like…rich?” he replies.

you maneuver yourself to a sitting position on your boyfriend’s lap, looking him nervously.

“well…” you remark, twiddling your thumbs. this wasn’t the way you thought you were going to break the news to max. 

“i grew up more- comfortably in my home country, thanks to my family and their connections. i was lucky to not have to worry about money at all. when i became a little older, i separated myself from the rest of my siblings and cousins to form and take care of my own company. then, on a business trip, i met you and then.. yeah, you know what happens next.”

an awkward silence fills the room, with max digesting the information and you toying with a stray thread from the bedcovers.

your boyfriend opens his mouth slowly.

“a company?” he questions, turning to you. “what company?”

you scramble off the bed for your phone, and type something quick in the search bar. when you find what you are looking for, you rotate the phone towards your boyfriend, the glowing screen reflecting on his features. 

it only takes one or two seconds for max to scan and decipher the words on the screen.

“YOU’RE THE CEO OF REDBULL??” max shouts.

when the wheels of your private jet hit the bumpy runway, it was midnight. your pilot’s voice crackles on the intercom, politely notifying you that you have arrived, and are free to disembark whenever you’d like. outside, you can see several workers unloading your luggage, along with jimmy and sassy in their pet carriers.

you turn to max, who was intensely staring at his screen, unmoving. you assume he was still in the middle of his fervent wikipedia dive of you and your family’s entire history that he insisted on learning, once he got over the initial shock. 

“max,” you say, nudging him slightly. 

he doesn’t budge, eyes trained like an eagle on his screen. 

you pull on sweatshirt before nudging him again, this time a little harder. “max, come on, we gotta go.”

he snaps up, and pockets his phone before mock saluting you. “yes, of course, miss ceo! whatever you say!”

you roll your eyes. max was a little extra sometimes.

he trails behind you obediently as you climb down the stairs to get off the plane, and into a sleek black limousine. 

before long, you find yourself on the familiar streets and freeways that you used to frequent when you were younger. it feels the slightest bit nostalgic, so different from the streets of monaco that you became used to thanks to max. 

you look back to find max tilting his head at you. 

“where to now, miss ceo?” he asks in a curious tone.

you smile.

”i know just the place.”

even when it was close to three am, the downtown streets were still packed with people. vendors engulfed the street sides, selling delicious soups and snacks beckoned to people, and little shops with bright signs advertised souvenirs, clothing, stationary, and everything in between. the car inches to a stop when you come upon a familiar old building that you remember visiting often as a child. bright glittery letters on the storefront and windows exclaim, “lombardi ice cream shop.” a line of people streams out the door, an ode to the delicious creamy treats that the shop has been selling for years. god, you could basically taste the ice cream on your tongue already.

you practically leap out of the car, dragging max with you towards the front of the shop. the red bottoms of your heels click against the concrete, turning many heads in the crowd along the sidewalk. you hear gasps of shock and a few whispers of your name along the crowd. they automatically parts like moses and the red sea when you get closer. max hesitates, wide eyed, at the edge of the crowd. 

”c’mon,” you laugh, taking his hand and leading him through the people.

an old woman, back hunched with age, waddles out of the kitchen and greets you warmly when you arrive at the counter. without realizing, a warm feeling spreads across your chest. she was basically like a second mother to you, considering you spent your entire childhood frequenting this shop with your cousins and siblings. whenever you visited your home country, you would always make sure to pop by her shop (not that she needed your business- her lines always curled around the block, day and night). 

“ahh!! welcome back, honey,” she exclaims, wiping her wrinkled hands on her apron. “you’ve gotten so beautiful!” throwing a glance at a shy max hesitantly hidden behind you, she sends you an eyebrow raise. “ah, and i see you brought a boy back huh?”

you reach over to give the weathered old woman a hug, blushing. “hello, momma lella! yes, this is my boyfriend max.”

max waves a polite hello, one hand still nervously holding yours.

the elderly woman smiles kindly at max, not hiding how she looks him up and down. “well, i approve!” she states, giving you a thumbs up and a wink. “polite and handsome!” 

without another word, she grabs the largest size cup and fills it to the brim with creamy chocolate ice cream. sprinkling a good amount of sprinkles and shoving two spoons into the cup, she offers it to you. 

“on the house!”

you and max sit on the sidewalk with the cup of ice cream, watching people walk by and cars zoom through the traffic. occasionally, max takes his spoon and shovels a large helping of chocolate ice cream into his mouth. 

“you look like you’re really enjoying the ice cream,” you state, noticing the chocolate smeared over the corners of his mouth.

max just smiles at you in the way he always does, with the dimples and the crinkle in his eyes. 

suddenly, your moment is ruined when a flash goes off in your face.

max jerks back, rubbing his eyes, not used to the invasive cameras that made up your childhood.

you whip around towards the flash, seeing a small herd of paparazzi smiling wickedly. a rare spotting of you in back in your home country for the first time in years? that was payday for them. a flash of anger shoots through you, causing you to throw your wooden spoon at their expensive cameras. unfortunately, it just bounces off of the arm of a short looking man carrying a heavy duty camera.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you yell, shooing them away from max. “can you just leave us alone for one second?”

bothersome paparazzi like this was common when you grew up in a family rich with drama and money. you recall them camping in front of your house, shutters clicking once they saw a sign of movement. whatever mistake you made, like tripping over a small rock or fighting with your sister over a doll, was publicized and dramatized into unrecognizable stories on gossip magazines that were popular in your home country. it was a pity that this was max’s first introduction to these pests. 

you pull max with you as you shove your way roughly through the paparazzi. they deserved it if you accidentally smashed someone’s lens. 

max stumbles behind you. 

“wha-?” he says, holding the half-empty chocolate ice cream. “where are we going?”

you huff. “away from those wannabe photographers- i hate them so much.”

you flip open your phone to call your chauffeur, but your app notifies you it would take a total of ten minutes for him to weave through traffic to get to you both. in the distance, the paparazzi raise their cameras again, shutters clicking as they photograph your pissed off expression and a dumbfounded max next to you. you can practically see the headlines tomorrow- ‘bratty billionaire back in country!!’

like a godsend, a futuristic-looking car rumbles to life next to you. that will probably get you home and away from these fuckers fast, right? hurriedly, you march over to the disgruntled middle-aged man in the passengers’ seat.

“five million for your car- right now.” you say, dead serious. 

the man’s eyes widen comically large. 

“five mi-“

you cut him off quickly, seeing the paparazzi darting closer to max, who was still holding the ice cream and eyeing the cameras wearily. 

“yes, five million. i’ll mail you the check.”

without another word, the man tosses you the keys and hefts himself out of the car. you leap into the drivers seat just as he gets out, and jam your finger on the window down button to beckon max into the car immediately. 

the moment he sits down on the expensive-looking leather seats, you rev the engine and leave the paparazzi behind in the dust. 

it’s not until you are halfway back to your penthouse when max finally speaks. 

“this is a super nice car,” he states, running his hand against the interior side panels. 

you look around, really noticing the detailings of the car. the sides look like they are made with some carbon fiber material, and it seemed like it didn’t even have a door handle- just straps you pull on the corner of the dashboard. 

”yeah, i guess so,” you admit. “i just bought this off of that dude back there in order to get away from the damn paparazzi.”

max wrinkles his brows. 

“you bought-?? what??? you know this is an aston martin valkyrie, right?”

the next morning, when the sun shines through the skyline windows lining your penthouse, you keep your promise by instructing one of your staff to send the promised check to the random guy on the street (fernando, he said his name was). your boyfriend scrolls idly on his phone next to you, probably scrolling through your family’s lengthy wikipedia page again. his cats stamp around your white bedsheets as if they owned the place. you think about what you both could do today. perhaps visit the children’s hospital? before moving to monaco, you frequented many small hospitals, bringing gifts for the children. it always felt good seeing the sick kids light up with joy. or, you could go shopping, although you did spend a little bit much on the random car yesterday. or- 

before you can complete your thought, a familiar ringtone lights up the screen of your phone. your mother’s name lights up your phone, as if taunting you. before you second-guess yourself, you smash your finger into the green ‘answer’ button and place the phone to your ear.

your mother’s voice flows through the speakers, sending a wave of nostalgia throughout your body. 

“darling!” the voice hums, “why didn’t you tell me that you were back in your home country? i had to find out over the silly little paparazzi pictures on the newspapers!” 

damn it, you think, cursing silently in your head. it seemed that the paparazzi from yesterday night had probably sold your pictures to some trashy gossip magazine that had caught the attention of your mother. that meant that you had to face your family sooner or later. 

“hello, mother,” you reply curtly, trying to avoid the topic. “how may i help you?”

your mother tuts through the speakerphone. “oh, your own mother can’t just call to say hello?” 

you groan. “no- i mean yes-“

your mother cuts you off, laughing. “i’m kidding, darling. i just wanted to let you know that i’m hosting a party at our estate tomorrow, to celebrate your arrival! you’ve been in monaco for a god-awful long time. your cousins and siblings will be coming too- i’m sure they’ll all excited to see you after your hiatus in monaco!” 

you hesitate before responding. your first instinct was to say no, because everybody knew full well that the only reason your cousins and siblings even bothered to show up at these kind of events is to save face and show off their new ridiculously expensive clothing and cars, not to welcome you. however, this also gave you a chance for max to meet your parents, like he wanted back in monaco. it isn’t a hard choice when you agree to meet the next day.

max revs the engine once again as he pulls the valkyrie to stop in front of the valet at the front of your family’s estate. 

through the tinted windows of the car, you see one of your snobby cousins, dressed in an jeweled gown, jump at the loud sound and clutch her husband’s arm tighter however, her husband ignores her to get a good look at your aston martin supercar, which makes you laugh. to your surprise, he is not the only one. a few other family members gather around, admiring the hypercar. 

in the passenger’s seat, max’s mischievous grin slowly turns into a frown of nervousness as he spots the crowd of people gathering around you both. you know it must look intimidating, meeting your significant other’s family, especially when they had such high expectations of you. you place a kiss on his cheek. 

“you ready, maxie?” you ask, patting his shoulder comfortingly. 

he nods, before opening the car door. 

like the gentleman he is, max quickly hurries over to the passenger’s side of the car to help you out of the car. you gladly take his hand, and step out of the vehicle daintily. straight away, you can hear the confused mutterings and jealous glares of your family members start up, which follow the both of you into the house. 

like expected, your childhood home is decorated a little over the top. people mingle under crystal chandeliers around staircases draped with real flowers. from the second living room, music drifts out that sounds suspiciously like martin garrix. a fancy bar is set up a room that was usually the dining room, with a bottle of every single alcohol you can ever think of. the courtyard, usually empty save a few plants, was turned into outdoor buffet bar, complete with a five story cake and massive chocolate fountain. 

once inside, max attempts to introduce himself to the first friendly-looking family member that he sees, which happens to be your aunt on your mother’s side. he sticks out his hand, a smile gracing his face. 

“hi, my name is max,” he says, “i’m your niece’s boyfriend.”

your aunt nods politely, shaking his hand. 

“hello max,” she says, visibly studying him, “what are you, a ceo? businessman? sports star?”

”auntie!” you say, shocked, cutting max off from his response. that rude bitch. although she looked relatively kind from the outside, all she really cared about anyone was their power and money. which was probably why your cousin married a mega popstar that was away half the time. like the rest of your family, money trumped true love. “you can’t just start a conversation like that!”

max shakes his head, “no, no, it’s alright. i’m an engineer.”

“ah,” your aunt says, knowingly. taking a sip of her champagne, she continues, “head engineer, huh? of what company?”

thinking he might have misheard her, max corrects her, “oh- no, not head engineer, just an engineer, like in an office.”

your great-aunt’s friendly demeanor automatically drops.

“just an engineer?” she responds, coldly.

you notice how max’s face falls the slightest bit, before he plasters a fake polite smile on his face. he shuffles uncomfortably, glancing at you, as if saying, did i say something wrong?

before you can say something rather rude to your aunt, a hand clasps your shoulder. turning around, your brother beams at you. 

“sister!” he exclaims. “i haven’t seen you in a hot sec. too busy partying in monaco, huh? or doing your silly little business things for redbull?”

he then eyes max, to which he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “who’s this, huh? your boyfriend?”

”yes,” you snap, still a little pissed from your aunt’s rude reaction. 

your brother puts his hands up jokingly, in a surrender position. “damn, okay, no need to be defensive.” 

he sticks out his hand to your boyfriend, who takes it gladly. 

“what’s up, dude,” your brother says, shaking max’s hand. “i saw you pull up with my sister in that sick aston martin valkyrie! you must have some insane connections- the waitlist for that baby is like years long.”

your aunt answers before your boyfriend can. 

“there’s no way he could have bought that car- he’s just an office engineer at some company at who knows where,” she says pointedly.

hearing this, your brother’s impressed look turns into a sneer of disdain. he steps back from max in disgust, as if he had just turned into some horrible monster. he chuckles at you.

”wow, sister, you’ve outdone yourself huh? an office engineer?”

your family, slowly becoming aware of something going on, turns towards the scene. a wide-eyed martin garrix turns off the booming music in the back.

you shove your brother further away from max, causing the glass of champagne to spill onto your brother’s designer suit. 

“what’s wrong with you?” you exclaim angrily. “at least he has a job, unlike you!”

ignoring the bubbling liquid staining his suit and your enraged expression, he turns toward max, still eyeing him with disgust. “how pathetic, leeching off of my sister’s money as a ceo? ha, you probably used her card to buy that valkyrie, didn’t you?”

next to you, stunned into silence, max’s blue eyes begin to fill with tears. 

behind you, your aunt lets out a cackle of laughter, along with a few members of the crowd.

you just about launch yourself at your brother, wanting more than anything to bash his head in.

as if it couldn’t get worse, your mother pushes through the crowd gathered around you both, and grabs your arm before you can make contact with your brother. 

“hey!” she yells, yanking you back. “what is going on here?” 

your brother grins, pointing at max. “your precious daughter went and got herself a little gold digger boyfriend- and look, he’s crying!”

you glance over to max, heart sinking. like your brother said, he had a tear running down his face, and he shook a little with embarrassment. it reminded you of a story that max once told you, how his father had often upset him as a child when he was forced to do karting. an anger flared inside of you. max had only wanted to be a good boyfriend and introduce himself to your family, but was in turn ridiculed in front of a crowd by your hypocrite brother.

your mother turns to max, then turns to you. 

“is this true, darling?” she asks, tilting her head. “does he exploit you for money?”

does max exploit you for money? you can hardly even comprehend the ridiculous sentence. you roughly yank your arm out of your mother’s grasp and march over to max. you lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a squeeze. 

you turn towards your chuckling brother. he won’t be laughing soon.

“you’re really one to talk, brother! you think you’re hot shit, with a large chunk of mother’s company stocks. well, wouldn't it be a shame if everyone knew that you are in debt from your uncontrollable gambling problem, hmm? i wonder what your wife feels about that?”

you take comfort in the way the smug smile drops from your brother’s face, now replaced with a withering glare. the silent crowd gathered around the scene lets out a gasp, in light of this news. their focus now was trained on your brother instead of max. 

“and you!” you exclaim, turning to your aunt. “since you think the word gold digger is so funny, auntie, wouldn’t you like to know how your own daughter is one, huh?” 

your aunt jerks back, not used to the crowd’s attention trained on her, along with your harsh words.

”yeah,” you continue, “if you would stop judging people based on their worth in money, you might have been able to see that all she does is spend her husband‘s money on inane things in order to ignore his multiple affairs!”

from the back of the room, you hear your cousin burst into tears while her mother, your aunt, standing in front of you, turns as red as a tomato. 

gently, you lead max towards the gilded gold front door. your family gives you judgemental looks as you make your way through the crowd. turning back one last time before you step out, you address the crowd. “don’t think any of you guys are any better. all you lot do is leech off of trust fund money!”

max stays silent all the way to your penthouse, as do you. after a hot shower, you bundle him up in your soft fluffy blankets until he looks the puft marshmallow man. you can’t help but feel terrible. he silently shuffles towards you, which you respond by pulling his head against your chest. jimmy and sassy watch wearily from a distance on the carpet.

you are the first to cut through the silence. 

“i am so sorry that my family did that to you, maxie.” 

he doesn’t answer, but the new tears that soak your expensive silk pajama set does the answering for him. 

you run your hand through his damp strands of light brown hair, and rub his back comfortingly. 

he pulls back from your embrace to wipe his eyes briefly. 

“why do you love me?” he hiccups, cheeks wet with tears. “like- i have no money, two cats that you hate, and- and- a tiny apartment-“

“max!” you say, cutting him off from his ramblings. “listen to me.” 

you look into his watery eyes, eyelashes wet with tears.

”i really don’t care if you lived in a literal dirt hole with no job, or if you were a formula one world champion. i would love you no matter what. i love your blue eyes and your pouty lips and your lisp, and your cologne, and the bread that you bake, and your little apartment and even though it may not seem like it, i love your stupid cats too.“

he chuckles wetly at the last part of your sentence.

you kiss the top of his head.

”you don’t know how much i love you, max emillian verstappen.”

a devious grin slips onto his face. he shoots you a sultry look. 

“show me.”

and you do.

later, when max lays asleep on the bed, love bites on his neck, face slightly flushed, and back bare, you get up to fetch your phone.

the person you seek is only a few taps away. he picks up on the second ring, politely greeting you even though it was an ungodly hour. you tell him your request, but he hesitates slightly. 

”are you sure-“

you cut your financial advisor off as politely as possible. 

“yes, that’s right. i would like to buy the entirety of my mother’s companies and my father’s estates.”

the sounds of pencil scratching paper fills your ears before your financial advisor lets out a sound of approval. 

“right away, ma’am!”

a/n: APOLOGIES for my week-long hiatus!! take this fic as an apology... your normal spinoff series! scheduling will resume shortly <3

also let me know if you have a better name for this piece- i was STRUGGLING trying to name this one ;-;

[celestialprincesse]

🪻💌

More Price being fucking whipped for his wife!!!

nsfw below the cut 🪻 mdni

She's so utterly spoiled by him, like to the point where he'll see her looking at something in a shop window or her ears perk up at an ad on the TVY&? and it's on their doorstep the next day.

When they move into their home together, he refuses to let her lift a finger. He makes her sit on the couch and choose paint samples whilst he builds furniture and brings the boys in to help with the heavy lifting.

He buys her flowers all the time because she likes to keep the house feeling fresh and vibrant. He comes home with takeaway coffees, a patisserie bag between his teeth and a massive bouquet of flowers which match the colours in their home.

Their wedding was fairytale material, held in some beautiful manor in the countryside with all of their friends and family there. Yes, Gaz, Soap and Ghost were his groomsmen.

They go somewhere quiet and warm on their honeymoon - Bali or somewhere similar, where they can spend days soaking up the sun sea and sand.

Something about being a married man just really sets a fire blazing in his belly, and they've barely even got the door to their luxury villa closed when he pounces, going on about how he 'needs to fuck his Mrs.'

Obviously he's wanted to have kids for the longest time, and he sees having two weeks with nothing to do but swim, sunbathe and fuck as the perfect opportunity.

He grips her hand when he's literally balls deep inside, with her on the verge of tears just to look at the way her ring sparkles in the light of the setting sun.

He calls her 'Mrs Price' or 'My Mrs' "My woman' etc whilst they're fucking just to hear the way her mewls get louder and how her pussy flutters around him.

He'll cum inside and then slot a fancy hotel pillow under her hips to make sure that not a drop of potential is wasted. Afterwards he'll order basically the entire room service menu and hop back on the bed to put on her favourite show or movie.

When she does get pregnant, he's practically got an entire nursery built in a day.

He also becomes like a thousand times hornier, something about seeing his woman, knowing she's carrying his child makes him go totally feral.

[amourrs]

bachelor!abby who hasn’t stopped thinking about you since your last encounter with her. she’d gone back to the same club she met you at about thirteen times in the first month after meeting you, hoping against hope she’d catch sight of you- but to no avail. eventually she called it a day, assuming that you’d only been in town for the night and she wouldn’t see you again. after all, she’d seen you on a few big billboards and even a couple of video campaigns lately- not that’s she’s keeping track or anything. she definitely hadn’t snapped a picture of your face on a trip to times square and put it into reverse image search to find out your name (that would be sooo creepy, and also stupid when she could’ve just searched “prada spring/summer ‘24 campaign model” instead of spy kidding that shit— something she only realised three days after the fact) and then found your instagram (three million followers, almost twice abby’s) and spent three hours scrolling through all your posts and highlights and scrutinising every detail. did she slip her hands down her pants and start circling her clit over her boxers with a whimper of your name as she looked at one selfie of you in a bikini, glistening and gorgeous? absolutely not! she would never do such a thing… so when she does eventually let it go, she lets it go for good, aside from the occasional horny search of your name on instagram to see you in cabo or bali or marrakesh where she accidentally double taps a photo and has to hastily remove the little red heart to avoid embarrassment (not that you’d see it with that follower count). it’s a random monday when abby steps into yet another exclusive club, alcohol and maybe a little something more coursing through her veins and sees you. at first she has to do a double take. maybe she’s fucking tripping or something, maybe manny’s started giving her laced shit- but no, it really is you, in the flesh and staring back at her. she’s trying to figure out whether she should approach you outright or send you a drink across the bar when you suddenly clear your throat at her from about half an inch away and she jumps. “been enjoying my instagram, pervert?” abby doesn’t know what she was expecting from you, but it wasn’t that. she blushes, cerise to the bone, something she doesn’t find herself doing often. “can you blame me?” she tries to play it off cool, but your laugh indicates it falls flat. “oh, come on, then. bathroom in fifteen, yeah?” the blonde splutters, choking on her own words as you tilt your head to the side, watching her flounder. “uhh, whaddya mean—” the tut that spills from your lips has her flinching. why are you the one with the power? she’s not used to this, and all she knows is that she’s so fucked. she hangs on your every word like an overeager puppy anyway. “bathroom. fifteen minutes,” you repeat, lips curling into a tiny smirk. “maybe this time you’ll get your pants off before you cum.”

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — golden hours, golden hearts : chapter 032 !

backstage at louis vuitton's fw25 show in paris, the usual chaos swirled around you, but you were oddly calm. makeup artists hustled to finish their work, hair stylists perfected last-minute details and the buzz of excited chatter filled the air. but you weren't really nervous. you'd been modeling for years and the nerves you once had when you first started out were long gone, replaced with a steady confidence that came from experience.

hyoma sat beside you, the two of you casually chatting as the last touches were put on your looks. it was nice to have a moment before the madness of the show started.

"did you hear about suki's bali trip?" hyoma asked, a playful glint in his eye as he adjusted his jacket, still looking at you from the corner of his eye.

you grinned, already knowing where this conversation was going. "yeah, duh. she's been talking about it non-stop lately."

"right?" hyoma chuckled. "i swear, she's packed already. but i get it. after everything with filming star girl, she deserves a break."

"true," you nodded, but something else was on your mind. "though, i'm starting to wonder if she's more excited about someone in bali than the trip itself."

hyoma raised an eyebrow, smirking. "what. you think she's got a thing for someone?"

you shrugged casually, but there was a hint of teasing in your voice. "i don't know.. michael kaiser's been making quite the impression on her. i think she might have a little crush on him."

hyoma burst out laughing. "you're kidding. suki? mitsuki hori? a crush? i've never seen her so distracted by a guy before."

"well, i mean, michael is michael kaiser," you pointed out, unable to suppress a smile. "and it's not like she's been shy about it. you know how she got all nervous at the premiere? it's kinda cute."

"ha, if she's really that down bad for him, i'm sure he's enjoying the attention," hyoma replied, leaning back. "but i can't blame her. he's not exactly hard to look at."

you both fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, just enjoying the rare pause before the madness of the runway show began.

you leaned back further in your chair, glancing at the makeup artist who was putting the finishing touches on your lips. this was all just another day for you. you were used to the rush, the flasing lights and the quiet moments before a show.

just as you were about to zone out, lost in the hum of the backstage chaos, a figure appeared in your peripheral vision. you didn't even need to look up to know who it was. lan.

"y/n," she said, her voice smooth and sweet as she approached you, the smile on her face just a little too perfect. "how's everything going? ready for the opening?"

you forced a smile, not wanting to let her under your skin. "i'm good. just getting the finishing touches done."

lan's eyes flickered over you, studying you with that sharp, almost calculating look that made your stomach twist a little. "you always look so... effortless. like you don’t even have to try." her words were coated with something you couldn’t place, a strange mix of admiration and something more hidden.

you raised an eyebrow, not sure if you were even supposed to take her compliment seriously. "thanks," you said, keeping your tone neutral.

lan's smile remained, but her eyes lingered on you a moment too long. you could feel her gaze weighing you, as if she were searching for something deeper than just a passing glance. she tilted her head slightly, as though thinking about her next words carefully.

“you know,” she began, her voice softer now, “it’s interesting how quickly you’ve risen to the top." she paused, letting the words settle between you before adding, "you're so lucky."

you didn’t reply immediately, choosing instead to focus on keeping your expression neutral. it was hard to tell if she was just making conversation or if there was something more to her words. either way, you didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of overanalyzing it.

"well," you said after a beat, smiling lightly, "it’s just the way the industry works."

lan nodded, though her smile seemed just a bit too perfect. "of course," she paused again, and you could almost feel the weight of her thoughts, but she kept them to herself. instead, she gave you a small, almost playful wink. "i'm sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other at these shows. you’ll be great, as always."

you just offered her another polite smile, unsure of what to make of her odd niceness.

lan's lips curled into a smile. "well, i guess i'll leave you to it. don’t want to distract you too much," she said, her voice light, almost mocking. then, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving behind a faint sense of tension.

you exhaled slowly, trying to put it out of your mind, but it lingered in the back of your thoughts. it was probably nothing. lan was just being lan, right?

hyoma, who had been quietly observing the whole exchange, gave you a sidelong glance. his expression was unreadable, but there was a certain look in his eyes. “that was interesting,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head slightly as he adjusted his jacket again.

you met his gaze and raised an eyebrow. "you think so?" you asked, keeping your tone light, even though a small part of you was still distracted by lan's confusing behavior.

hyoma just gave a small, amused shrug, his lips quirking upward. "yeah. she's always been a little strange with people, but that was different. don’t let it bother you, though."

you gave a tight smile. "i won’t. i’m used to weird interactions."

before hyoma could respond, a voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. "y/n, show’s about to start!" the director called out from across the room, a mix of urgency and excitement in his tone.

you nodded, turning toward the sound of her voice. “alright,” you replied, giving hyoma one last glance before heading off to the entrance of the runway.

the makeup artist finished the last touch on your lips, giving you a quick nod of approval. the final moments before a show always felt like a blur. a combination of nerves and adrenaline.

the manager walked up, giving you a once-over, checking that everything was perfect. "you're good to go," she said, her smile a mix of encouragement and professionalism. "it’s your time."

you took a deep breath, nodding, your thoughts briefly drifting to the familiar faces in the crowd.

“you go, girl,” hyoma called out as you passed by, his voice warm and supportive.

you shot him a smile, then turned toward the runway entrance, your heart racing with a quiet excitement. the show was starting, and this was your moment. the spotlight would be yours, and you were ready.

as the crowd’s chatter faded into the distance, the lights blazed on. the guests fell silent, all eyes drawn to the runway as you took your first step.

the music built up, guiding your pace as you walked, your eyes scanning the audience. there were faces you recognized, designers you’d worked with, photographers snapping shots as you passed.

their attention was a constant, but you'd learned to ignore it, to make the world beyond the runway blur into the background.

but then, you saw him.

a flash of red. a familiar silhouette sitting casually on the first row, his eyes locked on you. the breath in your lungs stilled for a second, your heart stumbling in your chest. there’s no way. your mind immediately tried to convince you it was just a trick. you were too distracted, maybe you were imagining things.

you focused on your walk, pretending like you didn’t feel the heat rising in your cheeks, pretending like his gaze wasn’t piercing through you with that intensity.

no, you were just losing it. it’s not like you were obsessed with him or anything. sure, there was that tension whenever you were near him. and maybe, just maybe, he’d been a little too often in your thoughts lately. but this was nothing more than your brain playing tricks on you.

he was in madrid, practicing for the league, right?

it was probably another man with red hair. maybe you were just addicted to the way sae’s eyes seemed to burn through you, to the way he made everything feel just a little bit more intense when he was around.

by the time you reached the end of the runway, your head was spinning. you gave the crowd your final smile, a mask of confidence you had perfected over years of shows. you had to act like nothing had changed, like you weren’t thinking about sae.

the music shifted, signaling the end of your walk. with a practiced ease, you turned on your heel and walked the few steps back toward the backstage area, the cameras flashing as you went.

you walked through the curtain, breathing a little easier now. as you peeled off your shoes, your phone buzzed in your pocket. you pulled it out, seeing a new message from your manager.

nara: the show’s over, and someone’s waiting for you backstage. left side ;)

you paused, furrowing your brow. "someone's waiting for me?" you muttered. you hadn’t scheduled any post-show meetings, but maybe it was a surprise or a fan wanting a picture.

"everything alright?" hyoma’s voice broke your thoughts. you glanced up, meeting his eyes as he stood near you, clearly still buzzing from the show.

"yeah, just not sure who’s waiting for me," you answered, pocketing your phone and trying to mask your confusion. "it’s probably nothing."

"right," hyoma said, his tone light, though you could tell he was curious too. "well, good luck. but you were amazing out there, seriously. i think you just raised the bar for lv."

you smiled at his praise, appreciating the sincerity. "thanks, hyo. you too."

the backstage bustle continued, but your thoughts were somewhere else. someone’s waiting kept echoing in your mind, making your stomach twist slightly. you looked to the left, where the entrance to the private area was.

and just as you turned the corner to head in that direction, you were met with the bustling noise of staff and the familiar energy of models and designers. but no one stood waiting for you there.

you scanned the space again, but it was just the usual chaos. no one seemed out of place, no one had been expecting you.

you shrugged it off and headed toward your dressing area, still feeling a bit puzzled. maybe it was a miscommunication. or maybe your manager had something else planned for you that you weren’t aware of.

then, the moment you let the thought go and began unbuttoning your outfit, you felt a presence behind you.

a chill ran up your spine.

you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

sae.

you froze, heart thundering in your chest, your body instinctively reacting before your mind could catch up. you didn’t even have to turn around to know it was him; the familiar pull of his presence, the warmth that seemed to radiate from him, was all too much for you to ignore.

before you could stop yourself, your feet moved, and in one quick motion, you found yourself turning around and stepping into his arms, your hands wrapping around his waist almost desperately.

the moment you made contact, you realized what you had done.

you pulled away quickly, a flush creeping up your neck as your brain caught up to your instincts.

sae didn’t seem fazed. his arms remained loosely around you, a faint smile curling on his lips. he looked at you, his gaze soft. “guess i’m that irresistible, huh?” his voice was smooth, teasing, but there was an underlying warmth that made your chest tighten.

you cleared your throat, your hands still trembling a bit from the unexpected rush of emotions. “i didn’t mean to do that. it’s just-” you cut yourself off, realizing that whatever explanation you were going to give didn’t really matter. he was here now, and you were still caught in the web of his presence.

sae raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he were amused by your sudden fluster. “you always get so worked up, y/n.”

you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to regain some semblance of control. “i'm not worked up,” you muttered, but the heat in your cheeks gave you away.

he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “you sure about that?”

the proximity made your stomach flip. his scent, the way he moved so effortlessly, it made everything inside you feel alive, but you hated how easily he could do that to you. you were supposed to be calm, collected, professional. yet every time he was near, it was as if the rules didn’t apply.

instead of responding, you took a step back, putting some distance between you, hoping the space would cool your racing pulse. "3hat are you even doing here? i thought you were in madrid for the league," you asked, trying to shift the focus away from your embarrassing moment.

sae shrugged, his expression still that casual, lazy smirk you were far too familiar with. “i'm already the best, no? also, i couldn't miss you opening the show. thought i'd make a surprise visit.” he leaned against the wall, his eyes never leaving you. “and i missed you.”

his words hit you like a wave, the casual way he said it making your chest tighten. “you missed me?” you echoed, unable to hide the way your voice wavered slightly. your mind raced, trying to process how effortlessly he could make you feel like this.

sae’s smirk softened into something a little more genuine, a hint of warmth flickering in his eyes. “yeah. you know i don’t really like being away from you for too long.” his voice was still playful, but there was an underlying sincerity in it that you hadn’t expected.

you swallowed, unsure of how to respond to that. you hadn’t expected him to show up, and now, standing so close, everything felt like it was coming at you all at once. his presence, the tension, the way his words seemed to make everything else fade into the background. it was almost too much to handle in this moment, especially after everything that had happened between you two.

"how many girls did you tell that already?"

sae took a small step closer, his smirk still in place, but there was a shift in his eyes, more serious. he tilted his head, studying you, before speaking again, his voice low.

"i’ve only told you that," he said, his gaze locking with yours, as if to make sure you understood the weight of his words. "you're the only one that matters enough for me to say something like that."

the air between you two grew heavier, the tension thickening as his words hung in the space between you. you swallowed, not sure what to make of it, but there was something in his tone that made your heart skip a beat.

"ugh, stop teasing," you said, trying to sound annoyed, but the warmth spreading through your chest betrayed you.

sae chuckled, his eyes glinting with that familiar playful spark. "i'm not teasing, y/n. i’m being serious."

you rolled your eyes, but deep down, something inside you softened, even as you tried to hold onto your composure. "yeah, well, don’t get all serious on me now," you muttered, glancing away.

he grinned, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder for a brief moment before pulling away. "are you done here? let's have a drink, or two."

"okay."

chapter 031 > here > chapter 033

taglist is open ! <3

back to golden hours, golden hearts

a/n: hi this is rushed, sorry if its bad haha

taglist: @darling-dearesttt @saeslove @yuukiririix @sof888a @beepbopzlorp @luvrrin @narcjsistx @catukin @megumismyhusband @morgyyyyyyy @levihanmyotp @kaz-0e @nensi @vaelils @loverryxx @kunascutie @swagkittybear @alexiaray @kaidostwin @pookiei-bookie @syarc0re @vayahatesu @yangx2isawhore @pinkfqiry @treeguzzler @shumeow-h @modxbea @90s-belladonna @rory-cakes @sapph1r3x @yuiearyi @pctterheadd @thecallofmedusa @whisperofae @belovedfedya @anqelkoz @yukari1k @dontmindtheevie @pookalicious-hq @pan-kojiwa @spookysoowpprince @mivqko @chuuyalvover @viviinpt @h1sllvr @luvvmae @renchai @yourlocaleffy @x3nafix @saeglazer

[cheriladycl01]

Type of Holiday Brit? - Lando Norris x Reader

Plot: You and Lando, try and book a holiday with something you both want to do.

“Okay, but you don’t understand” you groaned to Lando as you were scrolling through multiple different travel agents on your laptop.

Tui, Virgin, British Airways.

“I think i do underhand baby” Lando chuckles back, looking over your shoulder at the tab your currently scrolling through.

“Just because your the Impulsive type of Holiday Brit doesn’t mean we have to do just that” you say, closing your laptop lid, so it’s ajar the screen still lighting up the dimming room.

“Type of Holiday Brit? What on Earth do you mean?” He chuckles having no clue what you are going in about.

“There are four different types of holidayers in the UK!” You exclaim as if it’s common knowledge that Lando should know and it’s almost appalling that he doesn’t.

“Okay and what are the four types, talk me through them” he grins placing his phone down on the sofa which would get lost in the next five seconds and he’d complain about later in when he couldn’t find it, before placing his full attention on you.

“Well there’s type one which is the UK Enjoyers where they go to different places in the UK on holiday, whether that be like … CenterParks or a Caravan down in Dorset and don’t own a passport and have never been or thought of going outside the UK” you explain and Lando nods, trying to keep himself from smiling too much but hearing you speak like this he can’t help it.

“Right okay, yeah I’ve never ever done that” he nods guessing he isn’t that type.

“Yeah that’s because you’re a rich kid holidayer!” You exclaim only for him to cock his eyebrow in amusement.

“Sorry?” He laughs asking while crossing his arms.

“Okay, so rich kid is like the kids I was always really really jealous of because they would go anywhere. Even if that means staying in New York’s finest hotel that is a room only room while paying for all your food while you are there! Or they go caving in Vietnam over winter break before going skiing in Finland after clubbing in Bali with Martin Garrixs” you prod at him, making him playing hit your shoulder knowing your were right.

“Okay okay, so I have some cool holidays! But what’s the issue with them! Why don’t you want to go on the rich kid holidays” he laughs.

“Because I’m an All Inclusive Holidayer” you say as if it’s obvious.

“Right! Of course of course” Lando laughs again before waiting for your explanation.

“I was brought up being used to all inclusive holidays in Greece, Italy, Spain, and then sometimes we’d get to go somewhere real far like the Caribbean. Beach holidays purely for relaxing. And your holidays don’t seem very relaxing… you’re always and I mean always doing something on them. And I don’t know how you can’t just relax” you chuckle explaining why you love your little beachy holidays so much.

“Okay okay. And the last one?” He asks.

“You have the Re-occurrers. They have their set destination and just keep going back because it’s the in budget comfortable choice. Like they keep going back to Disney World, or Mallorca or New York because they know it, don’t get bored by it and it’s the safe option” you smile having it all sussed out.

“Mmmm I think i would find that rather boring, wouldn’t you? There’s so many places but you stick to the same one?! Crazy” he joins in, in an almost teasing voice.

“I know right, like my parents when we would go on holiday, they’d never take me to the same place twice so that I could see as much of the world as possible!” You exclaim not realising he is in fact mocking you.

“So what, you want to do an all inclusive holiday?” He asks pulling back open your laptop and looking at some of the destinations you had in the search bars.

“We’ll maybe not just all inclusive but I would like to see you relax a little. You know loud around a pool in a hot country with a cocktail by my side and some beachy music to go along with it. But then maybe afterwards we can go do rich kid travelling for the rest of the summer break? If you aren’t needed in Monaco or Woking?” You ask, looking over his expression.

“Mmmmm so how about we book a nice 2 week all inclusive holiday. We come back to the UK. We see family and friends for a little bit while I get some work stuff done, and then we can do my type of holiday and invite Max and Pietra with us?” He asks, and you make a thinking face for a second before a big grin spreads on your face and you nod excitedly.

“I love that plan! Let’s start looking at the all inclusive first, I definitely think we should upgrade our tickets wherever we go. I know you’d struggle in economy” you poke at him and he nods, not because of the comfort side, even though he will never complain in first class or on Max’a private jet but it’s more for security reasons than anything.

“So I was thinking that maybe we could look at going …” you start but Lando gets lost halfway through distracted by the way you look right now. Excitedly talking to him about holiday destinations, a new sparkle in your eye at the prospect of some uninterrupted time with Lando.

He loved your more than anything and would do just about anything to have this look that you’ve got right now constantly on your face.

“Oooo look this one looks good! In the Maldives and look Lan there’s even a little slide going into the sea” you grin looking at the fancy and expensive looking hut in the middle of the sea.

“And look at this! Underwater dining, have you ever eaten with a shark above you?” You ask excitedly making Lando laugh and cuddle into you as you skim through the pictures to get a better look.

Eventually Lando tells you not to jump the gun on the first one you see and to continue you’re search.

“Or this one in Antigua, woah look at the beach! ITS MASSIVE” you say as you point at the white sandy beach.

“It’s nice but I think the bathroom looks a little small, I prefer the one in the Maldives for sure! Onto the next” he grins.

“Oh look at this, it’s beautiful” you say looking at the location where the palm trees hang over the Villa and the pool looks like it’s been built into the beach itself.

“Now I like this one! Where is this?” He asks clicking the pen.

“Wait when did you get a pen and pad” you ask looking at him.

“Well we need to write down the ones we like right?” He says pinching your side making your squeal in high delight that he’s helping and getting involved and from the sensation of his pinch.

You turn round fully, focus completely off your laptop and now into your loving and doting boyfriend.

“I love you so much” you say looking into his eyes, and a sigh of pure happiness escapes him as you guys hold into eye contact. You lean in after a while placing a soft kiss of his lips, gripping to the back of his neck, playing with the loose curls at the base.

“I love you too baby, now, where was that last destination. The quicker we choose somewhere the quicker we can get to bed” he winks and you shake your head laughing before sitting back in his lap leaning against him re-opening your laptop lid showing the last location that there was.

“It was Mozambique, I’d never have thought of going somewhere this beautiful when i was younger” you smile.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[bratzblondie]

⌗02 — 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 KATSUKI BAKUGO, GATE 3-A.

prologue : who am i? well, even i’m not so sure.

previous <- : series masterlist : -> next

CONTENT WARNINGS : slight smau. second person reader POV; third person for Bakugo POV. emotionally distant parental relationships. cultural references to Bali (may contain inaccuracies, please feel free to correct!). kamijirou ship mention (sorry in advance). past Bakugo relationship mention (brief).

BLONDIE’S NOTES : Ignore the time on the messages, I also messed up a tad on them. It’s not that noticeable, nor does it matter, but I’ll say so anyway. Anyhow, this is relatively a long “chapter,” I normally don’t write this much, how to some of ya’ll do it?

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @nina-from-317 @harryzcherry @kye1aaazene @kalulakunundrum @cielito--lindo @happinessisabutterflie @sakuraszn @dahhliaa @bakugoubaby @jazoewazoe @loliesaregreat @blissin6s @vicdik @yk-raji @meowsannie @toriiee

The scenery outside blurs in sun-warmed streaks of gold and green, late-summer fields flashing by as the route bus hums steadily down the road.

You shift in your seat, the fabric beneath you rough and faded, patterned moquette scratched from years of passengers doing the same.

A light weight presses on your shoulder. The person next to you, a stranger, has dozed off and leaned into you sometime during the ride. You don’t have the heart to nudge them away.

Your gaze drifts back to the window. Mountains in the distance. A glimpse of Fuji’s crown on the horizon. Another new town. Another fresh start. Musutafu

A city nestled in Shizuoka Prefecture, known for its fragrant green tea fields, its botany research centers, and that towering guardian on the skyline, Mt. Fuji. A postcard kind of place. Beautiful, stable. Peaceful.

To anyone else, this would be exciting. A new place. A new culture. The adventure of a lifetime.

If you hadn’t moved around the world your entire life, that is.

But you have. So to you, this isn’t thrilling. It’s exhausting.

You lost count of how many homes you’ve had after the twelfth move. The suitcase at your feet is more of a home than any place you’ve lived.

Brazil. Greece. Thailand. Mexico. Iceland. Italy. Hawaii. Canada. India. Africa. China and most recently, Indonesia. You’ve seen temples rise into the clouds, deserts sprawl into the horizon, and jungles vibrate with the buzz of cicadas.

And yet, you’ve never really belonged anywhere. Never planted roots. Never stayed long enough to watch the seasons change twice in the same place.

Your parents are to thank for that, not that you hold it against them.

They work in international disaster relief. A government-funded emergency response team that specializes in areas devastated by villain attacks or natural disasters.

They’re the first to arrive after the storm, earthquake, or explosion… and the first to be relocated once the next one hits. Whether it’s France or Peru, they go where they’re needed most.

You’ve always admired that about them. Truly. Heroes in their own right. But admiration doesn’t make it easier to say goodbye every other month.

Or to walk into yet another unfamiliar school with yet another new name tag.

Navigating a relationship with your parents? Complicated. They're kind, brave, and endlessly driven but distant. Always distant. Not on purpose. Just... not always present.

Still, you're grateful. You know more than most kids your age, about the world, about people.

You've eaten street food in Bangkok at midnight and prayed in silence at shrines older than history.

You know how to say “hello” in 25 different languages. You can name all the major religions and point out tectonic fault lines on a map.

But knowledge doesn't soothe the ache of isolation.

You remember your first move like it was a scar.

You were in third grade. Eight, maybe nine. Masegaki Elementary. You were one of the popular kids. Bright. Liked by teachers. The fastest runner during recess races, except against him.

What was his name...?

Katsumi? No, Katsuki.

Yeah. Katsuki. That sounds right.

The two of you were inseparable back then. You remember afternoons spent at his house, flopped on beanbags, watching reruns of All Might’s old rescues that aired on local TV at 3:30 p.m. sharp. He was loud, rough around the edges, but there was something about him you liked. Maybe it was his fire. His confidence.

There was another boy, too. Quiet. Gentle. Always had a book in his hand and a nervous smile on his face.

Izu... something? Izuo? Izuku?

It’s fuzzy now, but you remember the way he listened when you talked. The softness in his voice.

You never got to say goodbye.

One afternoon you came home, and your life was in boxes. Your bedroom stripped to the skeleton of what it once was. The “For Sale” sign on the lawn felt like betrayal.

“We’re moving to Las Vegas,” your mother had said brightly, trying to spin it like a game. “It’ll be fun!”

“And we’ll be back before you know it,” she promised, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead.

But “soon” never came.

You tried to stay in touch. At first, it worked, texting, late-night calls despite the time zones. But replies grew slower. Messages stopped being returned. People moved on. And then, one day, your mom's phone was destroyed in a field operation. New number. New everything.

Just like that, the thread snapped.

After that, it was always the same. A new school, a new uniform, new faces. You made friends, because you had to. Became popular, because you knew how to adapt.

Liked by teachers, because you were polite and bright. The fastest on the playground, because you’d had a lot of practice running.

But the moves kept coming. So you stopped trying so hard.

Then came the fear. The anxiety. The tightness in your chest whenever you had to speak in front of people. The fear of walking into a classroom where everyone already had a history without you.

You became the “new girl.” Always the “new girl.”

Days, weeks, sometimes months behind everyone else.

And the worst part? Connection.

You're not sure you've had a real one since third grade. There’s never been time. You’ve become a cameo in everyone’s story, a blur in the background of yearbook photos.

Romance? Don’t even go there.

Seventeen years old and you’ve never even held hands with someone in that way. No stolen glances. No first kiss. Not even a crush that lasted more than a week. You haven’t “snapped” anyone. You don’t have anyone to snap.

Maybe you’re too awkward. Too distant. Or maybe people just don’t care enough to try when they know you’ll be gone by the semester’s end.

So what’s the point?

…Still.

This time, things are going to be different.

Not because of romance. You don’t have time for that.

This time, you’re here for one reason, and one reason only:

To get your hero provisional license, and finally graduate high school.

Simple, really. Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad.

After all, you actually had a “friend” attending U.A. with you, or the closest thing to one you’ve had in years. You met her three weeks ago during a festival in Bali.

There were fireworks in the sky, lanterns strung across the trees, and laughter spilling over every street.

You were trying to find a food vendor, your stomach practically begging for something greasy to take back to your small apartment you and your parents share when someone collided with you full-force.

A pink-skinned girl with cotton candy curls and the wildest energy you'd ever seen went flying, her container of nasi campur launching like a confetti bomb across the pavement.

You remember gasping, instinctively apologizing even though you weren't completely at fault.

She looked heartbroken staring down at the food like she'd just lost her best friend. Without thinking, you bought her a new one. And that was all it took.

The two of you ended up talking for hours, sitting cross-legged on a cracked curb, food in your laps, music playing faintly in the distance.

You talked about where you'd been, where she wanted to go, the best hot springs in Indonesia, her dreams of being a hero, and the way you still weren’t sure what “home” was supposed to feel like.

Then it came up, you were leaving soon.

“Oh my god,” she’d squealed when you said Japan. “Wait, wait, wait, but where in Japan?!”

“Uh... Musutafu?”

You swore she’d vibrated on a different frequency after that.

And when you mentioned you'd be attending U.A., you thought she might’ve actually combusted into glitter.

Back in the present, the soft buzz in your jeans pocket pulls you from the memory.

You shift slightly, trying not to wake the person still snoring lightly on your shoulder.

You fish your phone out, the screen lighting up with one unread message.

one new message from minaaa <3! 📧

A party.

On orientation night, no less.

You blink at the text, already imagining the dim lights, loud music, too many strangers packed into one dorm like sardines in a can. Not your scene. At all.

Too loud. Too hot. Too everything.

Your fingers hover over your phone, ready to type out a polite decline... but then you pause.

Mina’s been nothing but kind to you. She's been your guide to U.A. before you even arrived, sending you voice memos and outfit recs, telling you which teachers were strict and which ones secretly loved sweets.

She didn’t have to do any of that. But she did.

And if you said no now, you might regret it.

So you answer.

one new message from bali bestie ✨️✨️! 📧

“Score! She said she’d come!” Mina all but screeches, practically bouncing on her toes as she flails her phone in the air like she’s won the lottery.

Sero, walking past with a box of dorm supplies, raises a brow. “Wow, you’re really hyped about this girl coming, huh?”

“Well, duh,” Mina grins, placing the phone gently on the counter like it’s sacred. “Y/N is soooo cool! You guys are gonna love her. She's a bit awkward and kinda standoffish, but once you get to know her? Total gem.”

Kaminari calls out from the kitchen, mouth full of chips, “Don’t we already have enough standoffish people? Todoroki, Bakugo, Kyo…”

“Shut up, Kaminari!” Jirou snaps, barely glancing up from her spot curled on the common room couch. She flips him off without missing a beat.

Kaminari gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “You wound me, baby.” He stumbles out of the kitchen like a soap opera star and collapses into her lap.

“Get a room!” Sero shouts, tossing a throw pillow at Kaminari’s head.

“Stay jealous, you’re still single,” Kaminari fires back, making a raspberry sound as he dodges the pillow with a smug grin.

“Who’s jealous of who now?” Kirishima asks as he and Bakugo step into the dorm with another load of boxes.

“Oh, forget that,” Mina says, hands on her hips. “The only thing that matters is my twin’s arriving soon!”

“I thought I was your twin?” Jirou questions, raising a pierced brow.

“You are, Kyo baby,” Mina sings. “Y/N’s just my shy twin.”

Bakugo grunts, dropping a box full of potted succulents on the floor. “You’re still goin’ on about that girl?”

“Well, yeah,” Mina retorts, arms crossed. “She’s amazing!”

“Please. If she’s anything like you, I don’t need another loud extra in my life,” Bakugo mutters, scowling.

“She’s not like me! I mean, okay, kinda, but like, in a chill way. You’d like her, actually. She’s pretty attractive, y’know…”

“Mina...” Kirishima warns, shooting her a look that says stop before you die.

“Don’t even, Pinkie,” Bakugo growls.

Mina huffs, puffing her cheeks out. “Come on, Katsuki, it’s been months since Asam—”

Kirishima quickly claps a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. “Nope. Noooope.”

Bakugo stiffens at the name. His eyes darken for a second, jaw clenched like a trap ready to snap. He hasn’t so much, as said her name since—

Whatever. It doesn’t matter now.

“What’d you say that girl’s name was again?” he asks, voice surprisingly calm.

Mina blinks. “Who?”

“That girl you keep screeching about.”

“Y/N. Why?” Mina asks, her smile twitching into curiosity. “Do you know her?”

“Tch. Hell no,” he says with a sharp scoff. “Name just sounded familiar.”

“Uh-huh.” Mina smirks. “Or maybe you’re intere—”

“Shut up,” Bakugo growls, already turning toward the elevators. “I’m going to my dorm. Later, extras.”

And just like that, he’s gone, the air still charged in his wake.

one new message from minaaa <3! 📧

© 2025 bratzblondie — All rights reserved. Don't post my work as your own on any other sites.

[realhotgirlshitah]

Baking up Trouble (Preview)

Brother’s best friend Luigi x fem reader

This is a preview because I’m too lazy to write a summary LMAO. (Yes this will be smut. Probably the smuttiest smut I’ve ever written so stay tuned idk).

Also lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist for when I actually finish and post 🧍🏾‍♀️🫶🏾

It was rare for you to have the house to yourself.

Whether it was your mom bustling around the kitchen, your dad bellowing on the phone with some poor soul on the other end, or your older brother Caleb shouting over his headset at his friends while playing whatever dumbass game he was obsessed with that week, your home was never quiet.

So, when you finally got the chance to experience true, undisturbed silence, you weren’t about to let it go to waste.

Your parents were out of town on some business trip, dragging Caleb along under the guise of “preparing him for the family empire” or whatever grand plan they had for him. You had to admit you were grateful he was their golden child and not you because the idea of taking over the family business bored you to death. You respected it, sure, but you knew from a young age that it wasn’t for you. So when they extended the invitation—well, demand—to come along, you’d firmly declined, claiming you needed the downtime.

And oh, what a glorious decision that had been.

The house was finally quiet. Peaceful. Blissful. No one was yelling. No one was stomping around. It was just you, your favorite playlist blasting through the speakers, and a baking project you hadn’t been able to tackle since midterms swallowed your life.

You’d opted for comfort, slipping into your comfiest pajama set—a tiny pair of soft cotton shorts (the ones your best friend had gifted you as a joke, with the words “Best Ass on Instagram” emblazoned across the back) and a matching cami. You figured no one would see you, so what did it matter? With Megan Thee Stallion’s music fueling your every move, you danced around the kitchen as you whisked, measured, and kneaded your way into what you were sure would be the best cookies and cakes you’d ever made.

Life was good.

Until it wasn’t.

“CALEBBBBBB! DUDE, WHERE ARE YOU?”

The loud, grating voice shattered the peaceful bubble you’d created, making you jump so violently that the whisk you were holding clattered onto the counter. You froze, your heart sinking as recognition dawned.

There was only one person on Earth capable of being that loud and that irritating at the same time.

Luigi. Fucking. Mangione.

You groaned, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter as you prepared yourself for the chaos about to descend. Luigi had been Caleb’s best friend since they were kids, practically living at your house during summer breaks and any weekend they didn’t have plans elsewhere. He was obnoxious, smug, and always seemed to derive way too much joy from making your life difficult.

Before you could even think of hiding, he sauntered into the kitchen like he owned the place, his trademark smirk plastered across his face. He looked the same as always—big brown puppy-dog eyes that didn’t match his sharp tongue, short brown curls that were in DESPERATE need of some hair oils and curl cream, and, of course, that fuckass shirt.

“The Bali shirt… again?” you glared, gesturing at the faded blue tee he wore. “What is this, Day 527 of you refusing to buy new clothes?”

His grin widened, unbothered as ever. “What can I say? It’s comfortable.”

“Your family owns like half the town, Luigi. Maybe splurge on a shirt that doesn’t look like it’s been run over by a truck.”

“Why would I? This one drives you crazy. Can’t put a price on that.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall out of your head. “What are you even doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Shortcake.”

You bristled at the nickname he’d been calling you since you were kids. You hated it then, and you hated it now, mostly because it only made you feel shorter.

“Don’t call me that,” you snapped.

“What, you don’t like my nickname for you?” he teased, leaning casually against the counter like he didn’t notice (or care) that you were glaring daggers at him.

“No. I don’t, it’s inaccurate, i’m above average height,” you deadpanned.

“Well, too bad. It’s cute. You’re cute. Deal with it.”

You let out a sharp exhale, trying to ignore the way his words made your stomach do something infuriatingly close to flipping.

“Luigi,” you started, crossing your arms, “Why. Are. You. Here?”

He blinked innocently. “Looking for Caleb.”

“Well, Caleb isn’t here, genius. He’s in D.C. with my parents.”

Luigi frowned, his expression briefly falling into confusion before that damn smirk returned. “Huh. Guess I missed the memo, I really thought he’d be here,”

“Well, he’s not,” you said, your tone sharp. “So you can leave.”

He didn’t move. Instead, his gaze flicked over you, taking in your outfit with a slow, deliberate once-over that made your skin heat.

“Cute shorts,” he said, his voice dipping just enough to send an annoying tingle down your spine.

Your face burned. “Excuse me?”

“They’re… festive,” he continued, clearly amused. “What’s it say? ‘Best Ass on—’”

“Don’t.”

“Instagram?” he finished anyway, grinning as your glare deepened. “Fitting.”

“Get out.”

“Why? I’m complimenting you.”

“Luigi.”

“Yes, Shortcake?”

“Get. Out.”

He sighed dramatically, but instead of leaving, he pulled out a chair at the kitchen island and plopped himself down. “Nah, I think I’ll stick around. You look like you could use the company.”

Your jaw dropped. “Are you serious right now?”

“Very.”

“Caleb isn’t here. You have no reason to be here.”

“You’re here,” he said simply, propping his chin in his hand as he stared at you.

You scowled. “That’s not a reason.”

“It is for me.”

You groaned, turning back to your dough in an attempt to ignore him. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re mad,” he shot back without missing a beat.

Your hands stilled, the words catching you off guard. You hated how smooth he could be, how effortlessly he could make you flustered with just a few words. And worse, he knew it.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you asked, not bothering to look at him.

“Not really.”

“Go find something. Or someone. Literally anyone but me.”

“Why would I do that when I’ve got the best view in town right here?”

You froze, your stomach flipping as the weight of his gaze settled on you. Slowly, you turned to face him, narrowing your eyes.

“You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re a terrible liar,” he countered, leaning back in his chair with that infuriating grin still firmly in place.

“Why are you like this?” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

“Like what? Charming? Handsome? Irresistible?”

“Annoying. Obnoxious. Full of yourself.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Admit it, Shortcake. You’d miss me if I wasn’t around.”

You scoffed. “In what universe?”

“This one,” he said easily, his eyes locked onto yours.

The tension in the air thickened, the playful banter giving way to something heavier, more charged. For a moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. His gaze was intense, almost searching, and it made your chest tighten in a way you didn’t want to examine too closely.

Finally, you broke the silence, turning back to your dough with a sharp exhale. “You’re delusional.”

“Maybe,” he said, his voice softer now. “But I’m not wrong.”

You didn’t respond, focusing instead on kneading the dough with more force than necessary. The sound of the music filled the space between you, but it did little to drown out the weight of his presence.

[httpsdana]

do you write for musiala? if so, can you do something like enemies to lovers, they are forced to spend time together because of mutual friends, but they constantly fight, secretly like each other<3 ty

Cupid in Bali~Jamal Musiala

I might start putting pictures like these instead of the gifs cuz they're prettier. also first Jamal fic hope you enjoy <3 long fic ahead.

you can request from my prompt list

this is my master list

players/drivers I write for

All these characters are made up and not real!!!

The Characters: Jason & Leah, Ethan & Serena, Tyler & Emma, Carlos & Abigail, and Jamal & y/n

"I'm on my way. are you done?" Leah said through the phone to y/n.

"I am, I'll be waiting for you" y/n replied, walking her suitcase into the elevator. Her bag was on her back and she was in some comfortable clothes for the very long trip ahead of them.

They were gonna be a group of 10, 5 girls and 5 boys. Funny thing is how all of them were in couples, except for y/n and Jamal. Of course people will say that they go along very well, which was the most inaccurate thing to be said about those two. They were basically enemies.

y/n exited the elevator, and stood outside waiting for her friend that was gonna take her to the airport. It only took 2 minutes for Leah to arrive, but not alone. She had her boyfriend, Jason, in the passenger seat, and Jamal...in the backseat.

y/n rolled her eyes, opening the rear of the car and placing her suitcase and bag there, then opening the backdoor, sitting next to Jamal.

"hey guys" she said as soon as she sat in her seat. Both Leah and Jason greeted her back, while Jamal just rolled his eyes and huffed.

y/n ignored his presence, while the drive to the airport was silent.

~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~

"Okay guys, so as you know we have a very long trip ahead of us. Our first stop will be in the United Arab Emirates. From there, we have to take another plane to Singapore. After landing in Singapore, we will stay in the same plane, and leave for Bali. About 7 hours between Germany and the Emirates, then 7 hours between the Emirates and Singapore, and about an hour and a half between Singapore and Bali" Tyler explained, while everyone listened.

It was going to be a very long trip. Everyone checked in and got in their seats. And lucky for y/n, her seat was on the window.

"you've got to be kidding me" y/n heard, so she looked up, seeing the guy she was planning on avoiding the whole trip so she can have a good time. Jamal.

"what is it now?" she rolled her eyes at him, only for him to sit down next to her.

"your seat is here?" she said, already knowing his answer. He huffed and nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. She let out a sigh, knowing it's gonna be a very long trip.

~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~

The first part of the trip was a bit quiet. Jamal didn't speak much and y/n was just watching a couple of movies she had. When she finished her movies, they still had about 20 minutes to land in the Emirates.

She was getting bored, and started moving a bit in her seat. Jamal, who has been trying to sleep, all the trip looked at her annoyed.

"Can you stop moving " he complained. She let out a sigh, sliding down in her seat

"I'm bored" she mumbled.

"now that you have nothing to do you're complaining? I've been trying to sleep for 6 hours but I didn't say a word." he rolled his eyes, before closing them and trying to fall asleep again.

"we land in a while I don't think it's a good time to sleep" y/n pointed out, making him sigh

"better than hearing your voice till we land" he said rudely. y/n was taken back a bit by his response, but only looked away from him and to the window, where the sun was setting in a beautiful way.

She ignored him for the rest of the time until they landed. After they landed, everyone got their bags and met each other.

Some got food, and others got coffee, until it was time to get on the plane again. Another 6 to 7 hours to Singapore. This time y/n was sat next to one of her friends, Abigail, where they talked for a bit then went to sleep as it was almost midnight.

~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~

When they landed in Bali, it was almost 4 am in the morning, meaning that they were going to sleep more before starting their vacation.

"I'm sorry y/n, but you're gonna have to share a room with Jamal" Tyler said, making y/n sigh. She knew that all the girls wanted to sleep with their boyfriends, but she thought that maybe one of them would sacrifice the sleep with her boyfriend so y/n wouldn't sleep in the same room with Jamal. I guess not.

She let out a sigh, nodding her head. She had no energy to argue with any of them, nor did she have the energy to stay standing. She just wanted some sleep.

Jamal noticed her tired figure, so he took their room key and helped her carry her bags.

"I'll take her to our room, good night everyone" Jamal said, before walking behind y/n with both of their bags.

Everyone looked at each other, confused by Jamal's nice behavior towards y/n, but they were secretly happy that the two might actually get over whatever problems were between them.

Meanwhile, Jamal and y/n had reached their room, and already got in. y/n was almost asleep while walking, unaware of whatever was happening.

"y/n? are you gonna change before sleeping?" Jamal asked her, while she was walking to one of the beds. She dropped on one of them already asleep.

Jamal let out a sigh, walking to her and taking off her shoes. She was wearing comfortable clothes, so he decided to let her be.

~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~∙~

The next day arrived pretty quick as everyone was tired the previous night. The girls went shopping in the day, while the boys hung out together for a while. At night, they all decided to visit a club and party at the beach. At the end of the day, they were in Bali and every night was a party.

"Ready you guys? we are about to have the best first night in Bali!" Serena cheered, making all the girls cheer with her.

They were getting ready in Leah's room, and after they finished, they walked out all dolled up while their boys were waiting for them.

Each of the girls held the hand of her boyfriend, and started walking out of the hotel, leaving Jamal and y/n alone.

He looked her up and down, making her think he was going to comment about how she looks like always.

"you look nice" he said, taking her by surprise. She expected him to speak something mean, but he did the opposite.

"oh thanks" she mumbled, looking down at her sandals that suddenly seemed more interesting.

"well...we have to get going" Jamal said, putting his hand out for her. She looked at his hand suspiciously, making him sigh.

"let's just have a nice trip and not ruin it for anyone" he said, making her sigh but nod too.

"you're right. we should just get over our problems for our friends" She took his hand and walked behind the others, who already reached the party without them.

As soon as they stepped onto the beach where the party was, Jamal was pulled by Carlos who took him to where the boys were, leaving y/n alone. She pushed through the sweaty bodies, until she reached the bar where her friends stood.

"y/n, you took so long, we were just looking for you" Emma said, turning everyone's attention at her. She coughed awkwardly before speaking.

"um me and Jamal just talked for a bit" she said, looking away quickly.

"you two talked? about what exactly" Abigail asked, while everyone else looked at y/n waiting for an answer.

"nothing important, just that we should have fun on the trip" she shrugged, making the girls smile

"finally you two made up, it was about time" Leah said.

They ordered their drinks and started their own party. As the girls were dancing, y/n stood at the bar with her drink, just looking around the dance floor, until her eyes landed on Jamal, except he wasn't alone but with a girl next to him. They were talking and laughing seeming close.

For some reason her heart sank as she watched him laughing with another girl. A mix of jealousy and hurt clouded her thoughts. Despite their constant bickering, seeing him with someone else stirred unexpected emotions within her, making her feel a strange mix of emotions she couldn't quite understand.

She looked away immediately, afraid he might see her watching them and making fun of her. She turned to speak with one of her girls, only to see them all on the dance floor with their boyfriends.

She let out a sigh and turned to the bartender, refilling her drink. She took a huge sip, feeling herself loosen up a bit. Suddenly the music slowed down, and some people left the dance floor as couples started dancing in a slow dance.

y/n always felt lonely as a person who never had someone. But when she's with her friends they always made her feel included. However, this trip was different. The girls wanted to spend time with their boyfriends, and y/n could never blame them. They didn't have to cancel their plans, so she doesn't feel left out.

For some reason, her eyes drifted to where Jamal and that girl were, to see if they were dancing together or not. Instead, she didn't see them. Her eyes started scanning the place in panic, not seeing any of them anywhere.

"y/n" a voice from behind her startled her. She turned around to see Jamal standing there, his charming smile present on his face. He barely smiled at her as they're always arguing.

A small smile found y/n's face without noticing, as she saw the handsome boy standing in front of her.

"Jamal" she said in a low voice, feeling a relief wash over her.

"Would you like to dance with me?" his voice soft and a hint of nervousness in his eyes.

Y/n, touched by his shyness, smiled warmly and replied, "I'd love to dance with you, Jamal."

Jamal then extended his hand to y/n, leading her to the center of the dance floor with a gentle smile. Placing one hand on her waist and holding her other hand in his, they began to move gracefully to the music.

Their bodies swayed in harmony, creating a magical moment between them.

Their dance was delicate, each step was like a silent conversation between their hearts.

Jamal's touch was both reassuring and tender, guiding y/n with a sense of care and understanding.

As they moved across the dance floor, their bodies swayed in perfect harmony, lost in the enchanting melody that filled the air. The warmth of their embrace and the closeness of their dance spoke volumes, expressing more than words ever could.

It was a moment frozen in time, a dance of forgiveness, understanding, and newfound connection.

Their eye contact was intense. None of them daring to break it. As the dance was coming to an end, Jamal decided to speak up.

"I'm sorry for everything I've done and said for the past like 2 years. It was never my intention to make you hate me" he said in a gentle voice, making her smile

"it's okay. I've said some things too and I'm sorry about that. I just eneve understood why you hated me" she chuckled, making him shake his head

"i never hated you y/n. It just bothered me so much back then how you were close to everyone and we never talked. so i figured bickering and arguing with you would be the only way I can talk you because I really like you y/n and just wanted to talk to you in any way. And looking back at it now it wasn't the best way to approach you" he said laughing slightly making y/n laugh too

"obviously it wasn't. I just hope we can move past that because I like you too Jamal" she said, making him smile

"of course y/n. I wouldn't have asked for a dance if I didn't want us to start over" he said

She smiled back at him, leaning her head on his chest as they still swayed to the music. He pressed a small kiss on the top of her head, tightening his grip around her.

Their friends watched them from afar, realizing that their plan of getting them to make up has worked better than they thought it will.

[burningdreambanana]

Outline for my Mustafa rewrite project (season 2, post return from Edirne)

Mustafa comes back from Edirne after 3 years. He hasn’t seen anyone from his family other than his mother during this time. Meanwhile, Suleiman, Hurrem, and their children have become their own little family—a tight unit. The children are too young to know about the fratricide law, so they are carefree. Mustafa feels excluded from this, like he’s lost his place in his own family, and begins to grow resentful and fearful. He starts regretting his decision to leave.

His identity is built around the idea that he is the next sultan, and this starts to profoundly affect his relationship with his brothers—especially Mehmet, who is now growing out of childhood and is Suleiman's favorite. Mustafa and Mehmet are still close, but a rivalry begins to grow between them. Mustafa starts to feel threatened by Mehmet’s increasing prominence and ease within their father’s orbit, while Mehmet begins to sense that Mustafa no longer sees him as his dear little brother, but as a future rival. This shifting dynamic creates both sadness and tension in both of them, but they try to hide it from each other

Craving validation and his father’s admiration, this is where he truly starts going out of his way to impress the janissaries and important statesmen, notably during the campaign they go to together, oblivious to how this actually makes Suleiman more and more wary of him. During the campaign, we see him making reckless decisions to play the hero, but it’s not portrayed in the positive light the show usually uses for these kinds of moments.

During his confrontation scene with Hurrem, where he tells her she ruined his childhood, she tells him that if that’s how he feels, he should go say it to his father—after all, he’s the one who chose her. She rightly calls out the fact that he’s too scared to confront Suleiman and is scapegoating her, and that deepens his resentment toward her. That said, I don’t want him to be evil, so he does express discomfort and empathy when he sees that her face has been burnt, and it leads to a rare nice moment between them

Mustafa would actually be very enthusiastic about the marriage with Aybige, regardless of his personal feelings toward Efsun, since it would allow him to gain the support of the Crimean Khans and make him more powerful. He doesn’t concern himself with what Aybige thinks about it, which illustrates his selfishness and gives more weight to Aybige’s motivation to run away from the wedding. She never actually agrees to it either (I hate the trope of a woman who feels scorned marrying another out of spite), and it’s essentially imposed on her. We can also make a point about how wives are expected to be faithful, but he's still allowed to have his harem, something that makes Aybige deeply uncomfortable. Also explore the fact that foreign princesses that became legal wives of sultan were not supposed to bear children, with Aybige feeling conflicted about it (she does not necessarily want kids but doesn't like the idea of not having a choice)

Mustafa is very happy when Suleiman makes Hurrem apologize to him, it’s the highlight of his week (rare instance of validation from his father), and he rubs it in her face more than once, which only makes Hurrem more resentful of him. Their rivalry starts amping up a bit

We do NOT get Cihangir falling ill right after Hurrem poisons Mustafa because I DESPISE the writers’ insinuation here, it would be two separate storyline, happening at different times.

During Suleiman’s illness, Mustafa is a lot more conflicted about what to do. He’s in a state of confusion, torn between his mother’s pressure and his ambition and his fears and love for his father. His siblings are still children, and the idea of killing them repulses him, but at the same time he wonders if he truly has a choice. He is not okay—his scenes here are very Hamlet-like in my mind

Mustafa is actually furious when Aybige and Bali Bey escape. Hurrem has the news spread throughout the palace and beyond, and he feels humiliated and wants revenge. He treats Aybige badly, saying some cruel things to her, and then has Bali Bey executed (which is how I get rid of this man yeah Mustafa!!), idea inspired by Credit : The Bali Bey idea was inspired by a comment from El_Coco_005_on Reddit

He also hoped that being ruthless would garner his father’s approval, and while he is actually right that Suleiman would have done the same thing, Suleiman’s hypocritical ass is pissed that his son killed his loyal servant and resents him for it. But if he hadn't done it, Suleiman would have thought Mustafa was weak, so he couldn’t really win here.

The Efsun storyline stays the same.

Mustafa’s revenge on Hurrem doesn’t end with that one setup where he makes her fear for her children (which remains a highlight of his character); it turns into a full-fledged rivalry where both try to hurt each other. Notably, Mustafa continues to try and use her children in this rivalry, but at some point, little Selim notices and starts distancing himself from him. Mehmet is also uncomfortable with some of Mustafa’s insinuations about his mother.

Fatma would not be his second favorite because she would already be dead, but I do find it interesting to have him choose a favorite who hates Hurrem. I would pick one who wasn’t involved in something as drastic as burning Hurrem’s face, but one of the concubines who made life difficult for her in the harem and is close to his mother

I actually think it would be interesting if Mahidevran sought Mustafa’s help during her financial difficulties, and he decides to borrow money from other sources—like important families who want to please the future ruler. Since Mustafa still has to be trusted enough to be sent to Manisa, I would make Ibrahim clean up his mess after him, so his father doesn't learn about his implication

This is where we start making Mustafa’s entitlement to the throne an actual central theme of his character. The moment where he tells his little brothers he will become the sultan, even though they all technically have the same right to it as he does, and Suleiman looks visibly disturbed, has always been interesting to me and deserves more exploration. It also callbacks to some of his very fist scenes as a little boy (ex : "am I not the owner of this palace?" in S1E1). It especially evokes a central conflict between father and son: Mustafa thinks the throne is something that is owed to him simply by virtue of being the eldest prince, while Suleiman thinks it’s something you have to earn and fight for

He develops a love-hate relationship with his father where he at the same idolizes him and resents him. He lights up when Suleiman shows him the faintest of approval, and spirals when he is cold/suspicious towards him.

Mustafa in this season ends up being trapped in contradictions: raised by his mother to believe he was destined for greatness, yet never affirmed by the one person whose approval he craves most. Idolized by the janissaries, statesmen, and his mother as the future of the empire, he internalizes the myth of the perfect heir, yet at the same time can’t help feeling deep down unworthy of the pedestal he’s been placed on. This leads to anxiety, imposter syndrome, and reckless behavior to prove he deserves the pedestal.

He begins to chase validation desperately, seeking greatness through acts of bravery and calculated alliances, oblivious to how this only deepens Suleiman’s mistrust. His sense of self is fractured: he is simultaneously overpraised for existing and never good enough for the one person whose opinion truly matters, so he struggles to define himself and doesn’t feel grounded.

There are two contradicting imperatives pushed on him: “be strong, be loved, and be feared” from people like his mother, and “stay small and harmless” from his father—and possibly some other statesmen/scholars. He is caught between other people’s projections of him (a hero or a threat) and his own internal confusion. He starts going down a self-destructive path, unable to reconcile the person he is with the role others have written for him.

[calciumdeficientt]

how do you think bif interacts in casual conversation, especially with those he's sincerely close with?

as an infrequent fanfiction Reader i'm struggling to write him

ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY I CAN!!!!111!!!!1!!!! Ive really started to love Bif, i guess its because ive managed to fight the theatre kid demon in me back with a broom and get over the fact that his VA is Andrew Rannells

CASUAL BIF HCS

I’m not gonna mince words here, i think once you get to know Bif Taylor you come to realise he’s a total fucking loser. Like, once he’s comfortable enough to drop the champ persona, you really do find out that the real Bif is just a teenage boy. Not that he’s boring or anything, you can definitely hold a pretty good conversation with him. He’s just… kinda pathetic.

Okay maybe pathetic isn’t the right word, but i think he puts a lot of emphasis on his sporting achievements, especially when he’s talking to someone who’s not in the prep clique. It’s a status symbol that he flaunts to separate the wheat from the chaff. But obviously, that doesn’t work on other preppies. They know Bif well, he can’t just talk about how he’s the champ all the time. They know you won again Bif, they were all there, remember? Think of something else to talk about

I think he frequently finds himself short of stuff to say, his interests dont always align with what the other preps enjoy doing, so he probably just choses to listen actively in casual conversation with the other preps and piggyback off of whatever they choose to talk about. Often this ends up being sort of vague statements on the topic to try and pry some information out of the other party. Oh, Bryce went to Bali in winter break, its hot there this time of year isn’t it? Oh great, he’s talking about mosquitoes, prefect now gently slide in the new pharmaceutical company your father just co-opted. Excellent, well done Bif.

One easy topic of conversation is derby, not so much rumours or bitchiness or anything like that, just recounting time spent with derby. He is around him enough that it takes up a good amount of real estate in Bif’s brain. He’s always careful who he speaks about Derby’s personal private affairs with because he’s aware of the the ever looming threat of mutiny from preps who feel badly done to in terms of their leader. Bryce is the only one who Bif can really slag derby off to, then again its never actually anything nasty. It’s more just venting that he had to carry all of derby’s shopping bags, pay for lunch and go and fetch the balls Derby had putted over to the other side of Golf and Yacht because poor Derby’s feet were a little sore from his new loafers.

Now, drunk Bif is where its at, he eases up a lot more and talks freely about his less prep friendly interests. Usually to Justin, he knows Justin is keen to learn all about sports. Bif is usually eager to get drunk after standing for so long on the door playing bouncer. He’s usually tied and more than happy to sit, drink and be merry. And he gets very VERY merry. Red faced, where does the hair end and the skin start, shirt inside out shoes mismatched drunk. He’s loud and bold and laughs himself half to death over every little thing. Drunk Bif is kinder than sober Bif, but equally as receptive. One major change is volume, he yells like he’s in a busy club even if there’s only about four people in the room.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

omg a māori f1 writer! not a request, but genuine question - who’s someone you can see being with a māori girl 👀 like who can you see being taken to a marae and learning how to hongi and meeting all the aunties and uncles

Haha omg it would be such an eye opener for all of them!

Lewis: he would be the type to ask to come with you because he wants to know more about where you come from. He is eager to learn and inquisitive, feeling prepared when he arrives at your ancestral land to a pōwhiri. Lewis has tears in his eyes when he sees the beautiful brown woman welcoming him with a karanga and from there he falls in love with the culture. He loves that there are always dozens of kids hanging around the marae and he never has a chance to sit down as he plays games with them for hours - they also teach him the haka. He would particularly like those hours after dinner where someone brings out their guitar and everyone sings along, the aunties harmonising perfectly, and he feels connected even if he doesn't understand the words.

Daniel: for obvious reasons 😂 being an Aussie, he’s laid back and it probably wouldn’t be the first time drinking a crate of beers in a paddock in the middle of nowhere. It would feel like a second home to him once he remembers to take his shoes off before he steps inside the marae. He doesn’t mind kissing every aunty on the cheeks but takes a bit of practice going in for a hongi without missing the uncles nose. After the formalities are done he is in his element and charms everyone which his infectious smile and constantly makes them laugh.

Oscar: another Aussie that is chilled af so he wouldn’t cause any drama at the marae. He is polite and helpful so the aunties love him and try to coax him out of his quiet state while recalling stories of you as they peel hundreds of potatoes. He is strong too so the uncles would steal him to dig the hangi pit and take the moment to threaten him if he hurts you. He can't hide his surprise when you explain the sleeping arrangements but after all the mattresses are laid out in one cavernous room he warms up to the idea and even feels nostalgic for the nights his family/cousins/friends would all sleep over and they would all drag their mattresses to the living room.

Lando: he’s lived/raced in NZ when he was younger so there would be a sense of familiarity coming back. He likes learning about different cultures (like his recent trip to the temples in Bali) so he would pay attention to the rundown given about customs. Unfortunately he has a terrible memory and may make a few mistakes with what’s tapu like snacking in the marae or sitting on the table. Also, he would fall in love with the food because there’s nothing spicy, something he cannot handle. Known to giggle at inappropriate times with the little cuzzies like when someone says whakapapa. Wakes up to find he rolled the wrong way in the night and is spooning an uncle not you.

Max: takes everything too seriously and is worried about messing up so he buys a book on Maori culture as soon as he lands at Auckland Airport and finishes by the time he reaches the marae. Is pleasantly surprised to find that after the formalities the entire atmosphere relaxes and he is treated like he has always been there. The aunties shoo him out of the kitchen when he tries to help, handing him a drink and sending him to the uncles who are all inspecting the new 4x4 someone bought. Surprisingly, he learns a bit about cars from them and wants his own Ford Ranger or Toyota Hilux now, despite Daniel trying to get him to convert to one for years.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if i (19) told my mom (54) not to travel to learn to become a yoga instructor?

my family is fairly wealthy. not crazy levels, but my parents own their home, lease a small cabin, and we go on a family vacation (as in plane tickets) once a year. my mom is one of the top employment lawyers in our area and my dad is a public school teacher. she was the first person in her family to go to university.

both my parents have been doing yoga on and off for at least a decade at this point, and my mom decided she wants to do training to become a yoga instructor on top of practicing law. i thought, that's great! something to help her manage her stress and keep her motivated to exercise!

turns out, she wants to travel and do a four week program in india, bali, or thailand. we live in canada. my mother is white and british. i don't think this is a great look. when she first told me, i said something along the lines of "oh... how colonial of you" but i think she thought i was kidding.

i've been considering telling her that i don't really approve of this and asking her to instead donate the money she would have spent on the journey to a palestine relief fund or something, and do the training locally.

this is where the real potential assholery comes in: in january to may this year, i spent about 9000 dollars on a mental-breakdown-inspired trip to france, which i paid for myself after working full-time in a warehouse for several months. i might be an asshole, and i might be a hypocrite. i don't know.

What are these acronyms?

[ineedtherapy1]

Tide and Tradition: A JJ Maybank fanfic based off the plot of The Family Stone

JJ Maybank x Wife!Reader (Sybil-coded) Plot inspired by The Family Stone

The Maybanks weren’t a big holiday family—at least not until you came along.

Your first Christmas as JJ's wife, you bought matching pajamas. The second, you orchestrated a gingerbread house competition so intense it nearly ended in frosting-based warfare. But now, with five grown kids (four biological and one honorary Pogue who never left), and a house that always smells like pine and sea salt, the Maybank Christmas tradition has become sacred.

This year, though, there's a secret beneath the twinkle lights.

The family’s all home—Rowan, your oldest, ever the perfectionist, brought her buttoned-up fiancé, who’s allergic to dogs and affection. Ryder, your rebellious middle child, dyed their hair red again and brought a new girlfriend who may or may not be on parole. And your youngest twins, June and Jet, were already planning to spike the eggnog and hide from dinner.

And then there’s you. Y/N Maybank. The matriarch. Queen of Christmas. And you’re hiding something behind your warm smile and perfectly lit garland. Something big.

You sit at the kitchen island, hand wrapped around a mug, staring into the steam. JJ, your golden boy turned silver fox, slips behind you, arms around your waist.

“You gonna tell them?” he murmurs into your neck.

You sigh. “Not yet. I want one more Christmas. Just one where no one’s crying, throwing mashed potatoes, or announcing a shotgun wedding.”

JJ chuckles softly, brushing a kiss over your shoulder. “You say that like it’s not tradition.”

Chaos begins on Christmas Eve.

Rowan’s fiancé insults the family surfboards hung above the mantle. Ryder gets into a political argument with Jet over the dinner table. June drops the bomb that she’s moving to Bali. And all the while, you keep smiling, keep refilling wine glasses, keep holding JJ’s hand a little too tightly under the table.

It’s Rowan who corners you first. “Mom. Something’s going on.”

You give her the practiced look of a woman who’s raised five emotionally dramatic children and survived. “It’s Christmas, Ro. Sit down. Eat some pie.”

But Rowan sees it. The flicker in your eyes. The glance JJ gives you when he thinks you’re not looking.

Later that night, after everyone’s passed out in various states of sugar comas and emotional fatigue, you sit on the porch swing, wrapped in JJ’s hoodie. JJ joins you, lighting a joint that you’ll pretend to disapprove of.

“I’m scared,” you whisper, finally.

JJ exhales, slow and soft. “You’ve never been scared of anything.”

You give a bitter laugh. “I’ve been scared since I was twenty and fell in love with a boy who lived on a boat and kissed like he didn’t know what tomorrow meant.”

He leans his head against yours. “You were never scared. You were brave.”

You go quiet. “Tell them with me?”

“Always.”

Christmas morning, you gather them all. The tree sparkles. Coffee brews. Chaos buzzes at the edge of the room.

And then you speak. “I didn’t want to ruin Christmas,” you start, voice steady, “but I need you all to know. I’ve been sick.”

The silence is suffocating.

JJ takes your hand. “We’re okay. We’ve known for a while. We’ve made peace with it. But we want to make the most of every moment we have.”

The kids are stunned. Some cry. Some rage. Some just sit, processing.

But then Jet moves first, crawling across the floor to rest their head in your lap. June joins. Then Ryder. Then Rowan. Until you’re buried under the weight of your children, all of them clinging to you like they did when they were small.

You look up at JJ, tears in your eyes.

He just smiles. “Told you they’d be okay.”

That night, you dance in the kitchen to a record playing softly in the background. JJ spins you, slow and sweet, like it’s the first time all over again.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“For what?” he asks.

“For this. For them. For loving me even when I’m hard to love.”

He pulls you close, lips at your temple. “You were never hard to love. You were just… everything.”

And that Christmas, the Maybanks learned what it meant to love hard, to lose gently, and to hold on tight.

Because even when the tide changes… love always finds its way back home.

Authors note: ok ok ok! i love love love family stone and i got this idea and i really love this short fanfic. tell me what you think!

[sharpvst]

love story .ᐟ

ln4 x fem! reader.

date night in bali turns into a surprise.

fluff with a dabble of smut !!

trigger warnings ; smut near the end , unprotected p in v , wrap it weirdos. little bit filthy , praise kink , light choking mentioned uhhh tad bit of cum play.

———————————————————————

he promised a romantic date night , and he delivered. the beautiful bali sunset slowly fading as the two sat at a neat dinner table. the two of them giggling away like school kids as they talked about random things only they'd understand. the waiter brought the check and of course both of them scrambled to grab the check — but unfortunately lando's reaction time was much quicker than her own. she gave him a playful glare , lando returning the glare with his dimpled smile.

lando — the gentleman that he is , grabbed the check and paid for everything without worry. he wrapped his long fingers around her shorter ones , pressing a small kiss to her knuckle as she thanked him for the wonderful dinner. they both decided that they didn't want to go back to the hotel room just yet — so they decided to walk along the shoreline . . typical rom com style.

" thank you for tonight muppet. " she giggled , hand never leaving his , she wrapped her free hand around his cheek and stopped them from walking any further. " anything for my girl. " he says back , pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. they both stood in silence for a moment. letting the crashing waves beside them fill the air and senses. she took one good look out at the ocean beside her and let out a satisfied hum. she wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

he felt his heart racing , admiring her beauty was one thing — but the thing he had planned was another. he stayed awfully quiet , and of course that got her attention. " you okay lan ? " she whispered , eyes lingering on the ocean for just a moment longer before turning her full attention towards him.

" never been better my love. " he smiled , it's now or never. he dropped her hand - which in itself confused her. she raised and eyebrow as he awkwardly fumbled his hands down into his pockets. she could tell that inside he was some nervous wreck , but couldn't figure out why until she saw what he was reaching for.

" ah - shit. " lando falls a little as he attempted to get onto one knee , he couldn't help but break the tension of the serious moment with a laugh. " y/n. " he started , her hands already cupped her mouth whilst tears filled her eyes to the brim - already threatening to spill. " these past three years have been the best i've ever had. i — genuinely love you , and i want to be with you for the rest of my life. " he said - opening the small box that held a beautiful diamond ring.

he knew he wanted to spent the rest of his life with her on their first date. he knew from that first meeting on that she was just the one for him. he had been planning this in secrecy for months , even employing his former teammate daniel to help him out. whenever lando went ring shopping ( which was somewhat frequent because he wanted the best ring he could find for her. ) daniel would swoop in with magical plans already made. he'd distract her with small things for a few hours while lando was anxious tapping his foot as he stood looking at diamond rings from afar.

he loved her so much to the point where he wanted things to be perfect. so perfect that he planned this trips months in advance without even telling her. so perfect that he got all of his friends involved so he could find the best way to propose to her. boys night out turned into wedding plans and best man arguments. this was going to be perfect no matter what. and it was , it was perfect in her eyes. she couldn't have asked for anything better.

" y/n , will you make me the happiest man on earth . . and marry me ? " he spoke somewhat quietly , but he meant every single word of it. " of course lando , yes. " she brought him up for a long kiss — wrapping her arms around him tightly. once pulled away he put the beautiful ring on her finger. she swore she could die happy there. " i love you so much muppet. " she cried tears of joy , hugging him. " i love you more. " he whispered in her ear. this night couldn't have gone better.

the night kept getting better and better. as soon as they reached their hotel room the newly engaged couple couldn't keep their hands off of each other. it was all so quick — one moment they were fully dressed , the next they were already sweaty on the bed completely naked. lando peppered kisses all along his future wife's body , worshipping her like she should be. " my pretty fiancé. "

he cooed , her face went redder than a tomato. she let him take the lead for the night , and he did exactly that. soon enough his long fingers were buried in her cunt as his mouth worked on her clit , her hand sprawled in his hair as she yelled out blissfully at the way he was making her feel. she could never describe how lando made her feel - no other man had the guts to make her feel this damn good. " cum for me baby , cmon , you can. " he mumbled between labored breathes , he was eating her like it would be his last supper.

" give it to me. " he said , and that was all it took for her to come undone for him. he slid his fingers out and licked them clean like a lollipop , all while she struggled to get his tight jeans off. once free from his prison he showed her just how much he loved her. he spread her wide and gave her a stretch that she could never get used too. " that's it , oh fuck that's it baby. " he grunted , the man then started thrusting into her like no tomorrow. " l - lando ! " she screamed out , moans surely loud enough to get a noise complaint.

" so good for me , so fuckin' good for me pretty girl. " he wrapped his hand around her throat tightly , just how she liked it. he made eye contact with her fucked out eyes and he swore he came right then and there. the fucked out expression on her face only made him pick up the pace. " m'please! lando , lando oh fuck. " she kept calling out his name , hands etched on his back - surely leaving marks he'd later admire.

" gonna cum , gonna cum. " she called out , she was quickly losing it. " come on then. " he chuckled a bit , his thrusts never quite wavering as she came undone underneath him , giving her second orgasm of the night. he kept thrusting into her without a care in the world. her legs shook and her whole body became a wreck , still practically squirming beneath him. he was soon to follow however , letting go deep inside of her , surely painting her insides a new shade of white.

he kept his cock buried in her , catching his breath as he still laid over her , his little neck chain sexily hovering over her tits. " you did so good for me baby , so fuckin' good. love you so much. " he panted , finally pulling out. he watched as he slowly pulled his cock out — the white ropes of his cum oozing out of her. his mouth formed a slight ' o ' at the sight of it all. it was enough to get him hard again.

" you drive me mad , christ. " he said , and just a few moments later they were at it for round too. he could get used to this little life together with her.

[imzsuzsis-blog]

The last time I saw Lando was a few days ago, even after the tennis final, a blond-haired whore didn't get off him, but in the end, in a strange way, Holge told him to leave him alone, he's probably going home now, just as he'll have time to pack his stuff and take the dog, and then he'll go train for the race. Well, I think the roommate stopped there to say that it was a dog, and so did I. "Where did he get it from?" "Guards took in the beauty from a shelter." ,,Beauty? A girl? Damn, didn't he have enough Uno? Now he has another one pulled up next to him, I'm talking to him. don't send him anywhere just friends. I don't know what's wrong with him in Melbourne, he even took a pregnancy test and told me that he might be pregnant because he missed it." "Kids, stop, there's worse! By the way, hello, mother will cut off him ears and eardrums for this." ,,Cic hello! He's crazy since he says he's pregnant." ,.He says so? He's really pregnant, he seems to be taking a minimum, he's trying to cover up what he told Max and Pietra, Max's reaction I'd rather drive your sports car before the fetus gets hurt, even though he already knew Pietra froze, I was there Callum couldn't bear to spit and swallow, he just blinked when he found out that the boys they can also be pregnant."

"What the hell??? I got my ears pierced???? Where do you get this from again????” I looked at the secret chat group on my cell phone and it was full of people arguing about it, sometimes jokingly, sometimes seriously, the older ones seriously, how to take it out, it doesn't look good, the ones my age are jokingly, it's very good. Only I knew the answer to this, I took a photo and wrote it down, it's a fucking pimple that grew in the wrong place, stop it, it hurts and it's big, and this fucking breast is embarrassing, that's why I'm constantly wearing a fish tank because it's bothering me. "Honey, why are you angry? That's when you're cute, right?" Loki lay next to me and caressed my upper arm, then he lay on his side and looked at me. "There's gas, everyone's focused on my hormonal acne and they think I've pierced my ears." "Are these normal? Who was?" My sister, "Well, if it was meant as a joke, it wasn't a good joke." I lowered my head and asked Loki for a sad kiss, which came in handy as the twins were very fond of each other, but one of them resisted. When Doctor Yin told me, I burst into tears, I'm not a big cryer, but we really expected them to be sick, but they felt this was a trick and that's all I told Max, he didn't take it well last time.

"Well, it's getting weirder, it's not a pimple, it's a piercing." I hung up the phone after I wrote back so that he could finally do the truth about this shit, because he sure did. em acne because I had it too, I don't even admit it, it's fucking embarrassing and sometimes it hurts, this is how life has to be put up with. "Oscar, what's wrong? I know you shouldn't tell your girlfriend everything, but I can tell you everything." "What the hell is this?" I looked at my picture, it looked like a small tattoo that one's child plays pranks on after a drunken night. "I think an embarrassing tattoo that you can get drunk on guys is the slut tattoo." "Maybe this will be fucking new to you, but Lando is pregnant, you American bastard!!!! This isn't the series How I Met Your mother, you stupid person."

,,What??? They're getting dumber. Loki You have to see this.” I admit, yes, I have a bitch tattoo, but I did it last year on New Year's Eve, drunk in Bali, not exactly legally, and sometimes it can hurt during the day, and I also have a navel piercing. I was sixteen when I did this out of rebellion with a group of friends, so I don't keep in touch with any of them anymore, they became exterminating jerks when it turned out that I was gay. That I'm smitten with the ex of the mistress, who is a boy and right, we went to an art history and finally got together. Berdon is my first boyfriend. and the first boyfriend I told that I love him, so far I told a boy named Alex. It all ended badly, it was written in the lyrics when I heard the first one from him, I could sob for hours, but I wasn't the stupid one as it is, he was because he cheated on me with another boy.

I caressed Lando, it was very nice the last few days, especially the girl, what's in him ear? He thinks the girl talked to him, a fucking bitch, even a WAG, and it would be shit, the dog and mine, I don't understand what's the trial lesson in chat, it's secret I'm in the WAG chat and the problem is how big I wrote that my daughter and a beauty should be called I'm hoping for a baby... The air here is also freezing, a lot of questions from who is pregnant... I wrote from Lando Ollie Bearmann... Freezing... But Lando boy questions... Answer In one word, he's not intersex and he told me he'd already given birth and ended up in a bad place because of him father... Anger...He was still a teenager then but he could have done it but him father wouldn't let him, now he's an adult he feels he can do it and leaves him alone and he wouldn't want him there it would be only the mother when the little one was born. ,,I'm trying to stop here too, but Kelly..." I kissed him hair and sniffed the poor thing because it was more and more obvious that he was pregnant, but it didn't bother the cameras, and the fact that he's with a boy instead of a girl, which freaks out the girl fans even more, is lately, the poor thing just cries, I can hardly comfort him, I even brought my dog ​​beauty to make him happier, but not as often as he goes out on the street, the paparazzis are screaming after him, where is the beautiful girl Norris. "It doesn't work for me, I prefer to cover myself and myself on the weekend. This is not a situation. I always knew that I loved boys and not girls. It's bullshit what they write about me."