#manifesting this this weekend for the both of us
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Dodged a fat ass bullet today I'm taking this Rare W in stride...
#my roomie who is also my coworker wanted us to both work from home today and something in my head said no go into the office#AND OUR BOSS IS HERE LMAO#they supposed to be off on weekends and like NEVER come in especially on a Sunday morning#the manifesting i did last night is working out lol#nia.txt
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lost in japan | mv1
pairing : gymnast!fem!reader x max verstappen
genre : social media au
summary : in which y/n is a well known gymnast who has a very obvious obsession with f1 (with redbull, specially max) there’s a new romance brewing when she finally meets max!
a/n : thank you to anon for requesting this!! 🩷 requests are always open!! i need some inspo recently 😭 i’m horrible at gymnastics terminology even though i have gymnast friends… plz forgive for how badly i did
yourusername
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yourusername 🍜🤸♀️🏎️
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yourbff someone needs to conduct a study on you and your obsession with f1 😕
yourusername it’s a healthy addiction.
lilymhe talented talented girl!!! ❤️ so lovely seeing you traveling again to see the races!!
yourusername i think i’m in love with you? let’s hang out sometime!!!
username y/n’s love for f1 is so me
username wait lily and y/n are friends? how do they know each other?
username i’m pretty sure they met in the paddock a few years back? they hit off and they’re close friends now! :)
username i saw you at the first rounds, u and ur team did so good!!!
yourusername thank you so much, I'm glad you thought so!! 🤍
username how do u have money for this
username LIFESTYLE GOALS DEF
username how to be y/n l/n
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 lovely race! had a great time winning here in front of some amazing fans, and a great time meeting some people! 🇯🇵
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username y/n was talking about manifesting a max win in her live
username the caption is so obviously toward y/n 😭 have y’all seen her post?
username who’s y/n? everyone in the comments is talking about her
username shes a college level gymnast! she’s a very enthusiastic f1 fan lol and has been wanting to meet the drivers for a while!!
username another max win like usual 😢
username i know for a fact that y/n was representing all of us max girlies fan girling
yourusername
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yourusername i got lost in japan but at least i met max verstappen!!!!! *real!!!* *not clickbait!!!!* in all seriousness, i had a great time meeting you, and you’re such a lovely person to be around! 🤍
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yourbff 👀
yourusername shut up 😭😭
username y/n’s bff knows something we don’t…
maxverstappen1 i had a great time meeting you! you’re so incredibly talented! 🙌
yourusername wow thank you so much??? you have so much talent, it’s crazy!
username the hand placement for both of them??? i see y’all…
username THE SMILES AWEEWWE 🥹🥹🥹🥹
time skip
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yourusername monthly recap ⏰
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maxverstappen1 good luck for the upcoming nationals!
yourusername thank you so much, max :)🤍🤍
yourbff the man in the first pic?? y/n.
yourusername my bf is so amazing i know ☺️🤍🤍
↬ yourbff BF?????? GIRL TEXT ME RN.
username WAIT Y/N HAS A BF?
username boyfriend is max. i’m calling it. it’s fucking verstappen.
username it’s so fucking obvious it’s him too 😭😭😭
username verstappen fr winning at everything 😢
username I HAVE SO MUCH FAITH FOR YOU AND UR TEAM IN NATIONALS 🙏🙏
yourusername THANK YOUUUUUU!!!! 🤍🤍
time skip
yourusername
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yourusername celebrating a huge huge nationals win with the bested team in the whole wide universe and my loving boyfriend! couldn’t ask for a better weekend! 🥹🥹🤍💐
tagged : yourcollege , teammates , maxverstappen1
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username CALLED IT.
username congrats on winning nationals!!!! very much deserved!
username max and y/n always winning wbk
yourbff ILYSM AND IM SO SO PROUD OF HOW FAR YOU’VE COME!
yourusername my biggest supporter ilysm 🥹
yourbff max getting you flowers as he should!!!
yourusername plz 😭
maxverstappen1 so incredibly proud of the effort you put in. ❤️ i love you.
yourusername u don’t know how much this means coming from you 🥹💐🩷
maxverstappen1 prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.
yourusername STOP i love you
#f1 aesthetic#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#formula one#smau#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen smau#max verstappen 1#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x y/n
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Theodore Nott. | be my first.
PAIRING: Theodore Nott x Reader
PROMPT: “PLEASE please do a Theodore nott x fem!reader virgin!!”
WORD COUNT: 5.5k.
TAGS: 18+, Mentions of Slight Violence, Depictions of Blood, SMUT, Fingering, Bestfriends to Lovers Trope (my personal fav), Virgin!Reader, Loss of Virginity, Slow Sex, Soft!Theo, Multiple Orgasm, Dirty Talk.
"I don't know, Pans, wouldn't that be weird?"
Pansy's laughter echoed in a melodious giggle, the rhythm of her steps creating a soft shuffle across the expanse of your shared dorm. With effortless grace, she descended onto your bed, settling in with a languid poise. Laying on her side, her head found a comfortable perch on her bent arm.
"Why would it be weird?" Her grin, radiant and infectious, painted a mischievous allure across her features. "He's your lifelong best friend. I'm pretty sure he's in love with you-"
"Absolutely not," you interjected, employing a dramatic flourish with your hands for emphasis. "He is not."
Pansy cast a sidelong glance your way. "He so is."
"He's not!" Your grin persisted as you fired back, "if he was, he wouldn't be regaling me with tales of the girls he's shagging every bloody weekend."
Pansy, after a moment of silent contemplation, arched an eyebrow. "Perhaps he's just doing that to make you jealous. Ever think of that?"
You released a sigh, your body surrendering to the bed's embrace as you slumped backwards. The gentle thud of your head meeting the pillows echoed the weight of your contemplations, and memories from the past few weeks intruded your mind--acknowledging the nuanced shifts in Theodore's behaviour, particularly since that one unforgettable common room party.
As the realization took root, you abruptly sat up, the intensity of the revelation reflected in your eyes as they locked onto Pansy's gaze. "Pans...he's been acting distinctly different lately."
Pansy blinked, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes. "You're just noticing?"
"No, I mean," your thoughts scattered like confetti, your heart pulsating with the weight of the revelation. You realized you hadn't told her. "Ever since that party, the one last Friday in the common room...where we, um...we kissed."
Pansy's eyes widened in sheer disbelief, her jaw dropping in a dramatic display of shock. With a swift, purposeful motion, she sat up, aligning her gaze with yours, the unfiltered surprise etched vividly across her face.
"What the hell!" Her exclamation rang with feigned outrage. "I can't believe you didn't tell me!"
Your expression contorted into a frown as you extended a gentle hand, resting it on Pansy's shoulder. "I'm sorry...we both agreed it was a stupid mistake, and we promised not to tell anyone. We knew you guys would relentlessly hound us about it...I just...I just couldn't risk it..."
Pansy took a measured moment to process your words, her eyes narrowing slightly. She ran a hand through her raven-black hair, the gears turning behind her eyes, thoughts churning with an amused yet contemplative air as she processed your confession.
With an entertained huff, she locked eyes with you. "I can't believe that little weasel kept his mouth shut for all that time. Guess he really can keep a secret."
An assertive snort escaped you, relief from her reaction igniting your features. "Probably just doesn't want me to hate him, considering we're bound to cross paths at every family gathering. Our families are so tightly knit..."
Pansy reclined with a subtle smirk gracing her lips, mischief dancing in her dark eyes. Her fingers traced an intricate, invisible pattern on your emerald green bedspread, their movements betraying a simmering excitement.
Meeting your gaze with unwavering confidence, she responded, "yet another advantage for you, and another compelling reason to go for it."
You shifted, your posture a nuanced blend of contemplation and uncertainty. Your fingers delicately toyed with the hem of your shirt, a nervous energy manifesting in the subtle dance of fabric against your skin.
In the pregnant pause that followed, you countered, "I just...I just can't envision a scenario where asking my best friend to take my virginity works out in my favour."
"I can't see a world where it doesn't," Pansy replied with a softness that hinted at the weight of her conviction. Sitting up again, she met your eyeline, the motion accompanied by a deliberate brush of loose strands of hair behind her ear.
Her gaze held a depth of understanding as she continued, "You guys clearly love each other, given you've known each other forever. He's always Mr. Funny Guy with you, perpetually super flirty and protective...I genuinely believe he'd be happy to oblige."
Absorbing Pansy's counsel with a thoughtful nod, you murmured a grateful, "I'll think about it."
Rising in unison, the two of you traversed to your respective wardrobes, swapping the gravity of the previous discourse for the ease of more casual attire. Satisfied with your choices, you exited the dorm, descending toward the common room. The soft glow of dimmed sconces on stone walls cast an intimate ambiance, while a low hum of hushed conversations and sporadic laughter created a comforting background symphony.
As you stepped into the common room, an immediate sense of unease gripped you. Your attention honed in on the far corner, where a palpable commotion unfolded. Brows furrowing with concern, your gaze fixated on a group of clustered bodies--Mattheo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott all converged around someone.
Instinctively, you made your way over, Pansy following closely behind. As you approached the charged scene, you reached out, placing a steadying hand on Mattheo's arm in an attempt to capture his attention. The air buzzed with tension as you sought to understand the cause of the brewing conflict.
"Matt, what's happening?" you inquired, peering past him to catch sight of a bloodied Malfoy standing at the center of the circle. "Did you do this?"
"No, it was Nott," he retorted, his dark eyes meeting yours as he ran a hand through his dishelved curly hair. "They had a little disagreement--nothing too crazy."
Your gaze swept around the circle, capturing the aftermath of the disagreement. Malfoy wiped the blood from his chin on the back of his hand, keeping his gaze glued to the floor. Meeting everyone's eyes, your search finally settled on Theo, his nose bleeding and a minor cut marring his chin.
A heavy sigh escaped you, the weariness evident in your tone. "Do your petty disagreements always have to escalate into a damn bloodbath?"
Mattheo nonchalantly shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "When they involve Nott...pretty much, yeah."
With an exasperated scoff, you distanced yourself from him, striding purposefully toward Theo. The cerulean depth of his eyes locked onto yours as you approached, a battered hand running through his tousled hair as he shook his head in a frustrated scowl.
"What happened?" you inquired, genuine concern lacing your voice. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Theo's jaw clenched, his stormy gaze shifting from your face to fixate on something over your shoulder. "Sorry prat had it coming."
His eyes locked onto Draco, who was now being tended to by Pansy, the lingering fury evident in the tight set of his jaw and the fire in his gaze. Theo was not merely angry; he was simmering with a profound frustration that permeated the air around him. Sensing his reluctance to share details, you delicately grasped his arm, lowering your voice into a soothing whisper.
"Come on, Theo," you murmured, your tone gentle and calming. "Let's get you cleaned up, alright?"
With a reluctant nod, he cast one last glance over your shoulder before allowing you to guide him out of the common room and back down the dormitory hall. Upon reaching his dorm, he unlocked the door with a brief motion, and you stepped in first.
Navigating the familiar space, you headed straight to his bathroom, grabbing a wet cloth and some ointment. As he took a seat on his bed, the routine unfolded seamlessly--a ritual born out of many similar occasions. Cleaning up your best friend was a well-practiced chore, a testament to his quick temper and penchant for confrontation. It was second nature to you, an unspoken agreement that you'd always be there for him in these moments.
Emerging from the bathroom, you noticed Theo had already cast a silencing and muffling spell over the room. A waft of smoke hung in the air as he lit up a cigarette, his darkened gaze keenly tracking your every movement as you approached.
You came to a halt in front of him, and he widened his stance, creating a space for you to nestle between his legs. Seated on his bed while you stood, the two of you aligned perfectly at eye level. A surge pulsed through you as you observed his plush lips sealing around the cigarette, his long fingers delicately holding it to his mouth. After a quick ashing on his nightstand, he granted you the space to tend to him.
Raising the cloth to his chin, you softly dabbed over the cut, your gaze fixed on the subtle flutter of his long lashes--like delicate wings of a butterfly. A scowl etched his features, and your hands trembled inexplicably, watching his brows furrow, his teeth chewing on his bottom lip. His own hands rested on his knees on either side of your hips, fingers twitching from the sting of your movements.
In a bid to alleviate some of his discomfort, your voice echoed as a delicate murmur. "Do you remember the first time I did this?"
"How could I forget?" He met your gaze, his stormy eyes flickering as his lips teased a subtle smirk. "My personal saviour, always cleaning up my messes."
Pleased with the condition of the cut, you glided the cloth along the sharp ridge of his jawline, meticulous in collecting every trace of dried blood. Progressing to his nose, you repeated the careful process--his eyes remained fixed on your face, observing each subtle movement as you concentrated on restoring his appearance, gently swiping over his lips last.
Grinning at his words, you locked eyes with him. "You're right...I've been quite the skilled nurse, haven't I?"
He chuckled, a deep sound resonating through his chest, the corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smile. "The best damn nurse I've ever had."
You laughed, a warmth dancing across your skin as you pulled the cloth from his face.
"Now that's a compliment, considering you've been in the hospital wing a lot of damn times," you quipped, playfully raising an eyebrow. "I should be getting compensation for my efforts."
"Compensation?" He grinned, the playful glint in his blue eyes unmistakable. "How about I owe you a pack of cigarettes and a promise to keep the brawls to a minimum?"
Smirking, you couldn't hide the amusement dancing in your eyes. "Please, you and I both know your promises mean very little, Nott." As you stepped back, you added, "but I'll take the cigarettes."
Before you could get very far, Theo's large hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, halting your movements as well as the breath in your lungs. Your gaze riveted to the hand, the touch sending a shiver through your skin, before slowly moving back up to meet Theo's eyes. Within their depths churned something profound, a silent intensity that stopped your heart in your chest.
"You want to know why I fought him?" he said, his voice so deep it was almost imperceptible. "Malfoy."
Your brows furrowed in confusion as you waited for him to elaborate. "Sure."
Theo's grip tightened on your wrist, his jaw tensing as his eyes drilled into yours. "He said that if he wasn't with Pansy, he'd have gotten with you a long time ago," he confessed, the words carrying a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "He claimed your hard-to-get facade is all an act...that you're really a little slut..."
Your eyes widened at Theo's revelation, a mixture of surprise and disbelief sweeping across your features. Your pulse quickened, feeling the intensity of his gaze and the gravity of the situation.
"He said that?" you muttered, the weight of Malfoy's words sinking in. Theo's grip on your wrist loosened, and a subtle vulnerability flickered in his eyes as his hand slid lower, fingers finding yours.
"I don't care what he thinks, but hearing him talk about you like that...I couldn't let it slide," he admitted, his voice softer now, revealing the protective undertone that fueled his actions. "He doesn't know..."
"...that I'm a virgin," you said, finishing his sentence with a hushed admission.
Theo's expression softened as he nodded, and his thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hand.
"I don't want anyone disrespecting you like that, especially not him," he said, a mixture of concern and sincerity in his gaze. "You're a fucking angel, he doesn't deserve to even think about you."
Your heart pounded in your chest, warmth spreading through you at his words. Your gaze locked in with his, his eyes momentarily dropping to your lips, yours doing the same. The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken emotions as Theo’s declaration lingered. His protective stance and words resonated deeply, and you couldn’t help but feel the gravity of his sentiments.
Silent acknowledgment settled within you, a quiet admission that the dynamics between you and Theo had shifted. The boy who had once been your childhood best friend was now a source of desire and an unexpected depth of affection. Over the years, his presence had woven into the fabric of your heart, evolving into a sentiment that transcended mere friendship.
"Thank you, Theo..." you murmured, involuntarily leaning closer. "Thank you for-"
Before you could finish the sentence, Theo's hands shifted with intent, cradling the sides of your face as he drew your lips to his. The hunger in his mouth was palpable, a dance of devotion and purpose, his tongue delving past your teeth without a moment's hesitation.
Your lids fluttered shut, your brain caught off guard, taking a seemingly eternal five seconds to gather itself from the molten state it found itself in, the realization dawning that you weren't merely passively enjoying this kiss--you were actively engaging, meeting his fervour with equal intensity.
Your hands instinctively sought his messy hazelnut strands, fingers threading through them as you pressed against him, the world beyond the kiss momentarily forgotten in the heated exchange. As the kiss progressed, your mind struggled to fathom the reality of locking lips with your best friend--a completely sober, unrestrained exchange with no intentions of stopping.
And then, before you could process it, large hands enveloped your lower thighs, drawing you closer as Theo reclined onto his plush green duvet, the soft fabric embracing his back with a gentle touch. Your hands landed involuntarily with a deliberate force on his chest, seeking stability as you shifted to straddle his waist.
The kiss intensified, one of his hands securing the back of your head, while the other boldly explored the curve of your hip, his pelvis pressing against yours, his erection evident even between your layers of clothing.
A low, involuntary moan escaped your lips as his undeniable hardness pressed against you, a sensation that sent shivers down your spine. It kindled a fervent desire within you, a flame only he could stoke. Your hands transitioned from his chest and back into the tousled richness of his hair, fingers entwining in the silky strands. Breaking the kiss momentarily, you caught your breath, panting softly as you gazed down at him through eyes clouded with lust.
Theo's lips curled into a knowing smirk, evident satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he surveyed the effect he had on you. His hands traversed the landscape of your back, drawing you back down to him. Your bodies melded together, the heat rising between you palpable. You instinctively moved your hips against his crotch, craving more of the intoxicating friction that left your senses spinning, and a low groan escaped him, his hands guiding your hips back and forth.
"What are we doing..." Theo whispered, his voice a breathy murmur, his head falling back, and his eyes squeezing shut in a moment of quiet contemplation. "I told myself I wouldn't do this with you again."
Your heart hammered in your throat, your fingers trembling as his hands grazed the curve of your ass. In a mere pant, you breathed, "do what?"
His fingers traced a slow path to the back of your head, gently guiding your lips back to his.
The heat between you intensified as he whispered, "this," against your mouth, his soft breath sparking heat in your veins.
A low, desperate sound escaped your throat, a mixture of a mewl and a moan, as the fire in your core reached an almost unbearable intensity. Theo groaned in response, his grip on your hips tightening, and with a swift motion, he flipped the two of you around, placing you on your back beneath him. His hips pressed into yours with a force that felt like an attempt to fuse you with his mattress, his hands finding purchase on either side of your head, trapping you beneath him.
"Theo," you murmured against his lips, your hands tugging on his hair in a desperate attempt to part his mouth from yours, yearning for a breath of air. "Theo...”
Refusing to break the kiss, Theo groaned into your mouth, his hand cradling the side of your head, his thumb brushing over your cheek with a feather-light touch. He rocked his hips against you, both teetering on the brink of losing yourselves entirely. The restrained passion and tension accumulated from years of friendship were on the verge of breaking free.
Finally, in a gasp of air, Theo pulled back, both of your chests heaving, your lungs reaching for oxygen in desperation. His blue eyes dipped over your face, lingering for a moment before trailing lower. With a regretful realization, he shifted back onto his knees, putting a disappointing amount of space between your bodies, as if just coming to terms with the consequences of his actions.
"Fuck," he murmured, running an unsteady hand through his hair. "I...I'm sorry-"
"Theo...I want you," you cut him off, the desperation evident in your voice as you expressed your desire for him. "Please..."
Theo's eyes flickered, and he blinked, momentarily taken aback. "You..."
"Yes," you whispered, a subtle flush colouring your cheeks as you pushed aside any embarrassment. "I want you to be my first, Theo."
Theo leaned back down, his hand gently cupping your chin as he directed your eyes to meet his intense gaze, his fingers digging into your skin only slightly.
"Are you fucking serious?" he questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Don't play with me, principessa..."
"Why on earth would I joke about something like that?" you replied, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. "Of course, I'm serious."
Theo's countenance softened with a tender gaze as he scrutinized your face, searching for any traces of hesitation or uncertainty. Discovering none, he leaned in, planting a delicate kiss against your lips. His hand gracefully transitioned from your chin, weaving into your hair with a gentle, reassuring touch.
"You don't know how fucking long I've wanted you," he whispered against your mouth, his eyes reflecting the intensity of his desire. "But I don't want to fucking hurt you...I don't know if I'll be able to control myself..."
Your fingers gently traced the contours of his face as you held his gaze. "Theo, we've known each other for so long, there's no one I trust more than you...I know you'll be gentle with me..."
Theo's gaze softened further at your words, and he leaned in for another kiss. His hand embarked on a slow journey from the strands of your hair, delicately tracing the curves of your body until it found the waistband of your sweats, teasingly playing with it.
"Gonna' need to ease you into it, principessa," he whispered against your lips, his warm breath mingling with yours. "Let me know if it's too much, alright?"
As you nodded, your hands migrated from his shoulders to entwine in his hair. His hand daringly slipped beneath the cotton fabric, and a gasp involuntarily escaped your lips as he skillfully explored the warmth between your thighs with his fingers. Simultaneously, his lips traced a tantalizing path down past your jawline, each touch sending shivers down your spine.
"Mm, you're already so fucking wet for me..." he nipped your neck and you squealed, fingers gripping fistfuls of his hair. "Gonna' fill you up so good...stretch you out just for me..."
Pleasure rippled through your thighs, your heartbeat thumping in your core. "Theo..."
"Mhmm," he breathed as he trailed lower, mouth grazing over your collarbone, long fingers teasing over your clit, coating himself in your slick. "Fuck, I've wanted to hear you moan my name like that for years...you've completely fucking tortured me, bella..."
You gasped as he teased your clit again, fervent fingers digging into his scalp. "You-you never made a move-"
Theo groaned against your skin, his free hand sliding up to pull your shirt along your stomach, and then skillfully tugging on your bra, exposing your bare chest to his hungry gaze. His lips parted, and a deep lust filled his eyes as he immediately cupped one breast in his palm, skillfully flicking a stiffening nipple between his fingers.
"Fuck me," he muttered before pulling one of your nipples into his mouth, skillfully twirling his tongue around the bud. "I didn't want to complicate our friendship, bella mia...I didn't want to risk losing you..."
Theo's mouth moved to your other nipple, and he deftly took it between his lips, suckling on it before tracing circles around it with his tongue. You moaned, feeling your body respond to his touch, your hips jerking involuntarily as he pushed a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out in pleasure. His thumb resumed its motions on your clit, coaxing sounds of desire from deep within you.
Heat scorched your blood. "F-fuck, Theo..."
"Is this okay?" he muttered, pulling back slightly to examine your face. "You're so fucking tight."
You nodded, incapable of forming a coherent thought as your body's reaction was immediate, every fiber of your being inundated by intense, mind-numbing pleasure. Theo groaned as he brought his lips back to your nipple, skillfully pulling it into his mouth. Your entire body quivered beneath him, unable to comprehend how rapidly your impending orgasm was overwhelming you.
"Oh, Gods, Theo..." you gasped, your fingers tightening their hold in his hair like you were trying to pry it from his scalp. "Oh, fuck-"
Theo heightened his rhythm, skillfully adding another finger inside you as he fervently zeroed in on your sensitive nub with vigorous strokes. Your vocabulary dissolved into a symphony of flailing wails and moans, your eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy as he sensually flicked his tongue over one nipple before seamlessly transitioning to the other.
"That's right, darling..." he cooed against your chest, his voice torn and barely restrained, a low rasp that sent a thrill up your spine. "Let go for me...I've got you..."
His words alone ignited a blaze of warmth across your skin, and as much as you desired to resist, to not succumb so swiftly, it was inevitable and overwhelming, your orgasm slamming into you like a powerful shot to the gut.
"Shit-Theo!" Your jaw fell slack, eyes rolling back. "I'm-i'm-"
Your vision whitened as you broke, every nerve in your body pulsating with ecstasy. It was a wave crashing over you, leaving you breathless and trembling in its wake. Theo's movements never faltered, his touch relentless, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from your shuddering form.
"That's it--fuck--so perfect..." he breathed, rubbing you through the remnants of your aftershocks. "Such a good fucking girl...did that feel good?"
You nodded, still gasping for breath as you tried to compose yourself. "Yes," you said, feeling a flush of embarrassment on your cheeks. "It felt amazing."
"Yeah?" Theo whispered, his hand withdrawing as he shifted to press his lips softly against yours. "You like cumming for your best friend, huh? Enjoy making a mess all over my fingers?"
You released a throaty groan against his demanding mouth as his skilled hands effortlessly peeled down your sweatpants and panties, revealing the goosebumped flush of your skin. His shirt swiftly joined the discarded clothes, exposing the sculpted lines of his torso. Unrelenting, his eyes remained fixed on yours as he leaned back to undo his belt with a controlled urgency.
Once successful, he leaned back over you and a large hand cupped your jaw, his voice a low, commanding murmur.
"I didn't hear an answer," he stated, the timbre of his words sending shivers down your spine. "Perhaps I need to make you cum again?"
You huffed, a subtle squirm beneath him accentuating the anticipation, his free hand teasing the tender skin of your inner thigh. "Theodore..."
"Would you like that?" he muttered, his lips drawing nearer, the grip on your jaw tightening. "You want me to make you cum all over my bedsheets again, hm?"
His fingers caressed over your heat, teasing your folds, and you arched against his touch, drawing a groan from deep in his chest. You could sense he was attempting to buy himself time, to talk himself down from his excitement. His restraint hung by a thread, self-control wavered under the sight of you withering beneath him.
Swallowing hard, your throat felt drier than the desert as you met his gaze with pleading eyes. "Please, Theo," you whimpered, "stop teasing."
"Fuck--so eager for me, yeah?" he purred, releasing your jaw to slide his boxers down his thighs, pulling free his thick, long cock. "Let's see if we can sate this pretty little pussy."
Your breath fled from your lungs, your jaw practically dropping to the floor. He was massive, even in his own big hand, even as he pumped himself, sliding his fist back and forth over his length as his eyes burned wounds into the flesh of your tits. You whined, your core clenching and screaming with need, drool threatening to pour down the sides of your lips as your desperate eyes shifted between his eyes and his dick.
"Fucking hell, Theo..." your brain struggled to form coherent thoughts, and those words were the only ones that managed to slip past your lips. "You never mentioned...so massive..."
He huffed, and you knew he was watching you--his irises igniting in flames, a tiny smirk teasing his lips as you watched him stroke himself faster, harder.
"I didn't want to intimidate you before you got to experience how good it can be," he murmured, his voice low and laced with satisfaction. "Besides, I'm well aware of your disdain for men with oversized egos."
Your breath caught in your throat as your brain struggled to process the revelation. Losing your virginity to your lifelong best friend, who knew you better than you knew yourself, and who had purposely kept the extent of his endowment a secret, fearing it might scare you off. The boundary between reality and dream blurred, leaving you in a surreal haze of disbelief.
"Just shut up and show me," you finally managed to whisper, your desire overcoming any reservations. "Show me how good it can be."
"Easy, principessa, don't get greedy now," he murmured, his hands firmly grasping your thighs to pull you closer. "You're not ready for everything I have to offer just yet."
Theo leaned back over you, trailing hot open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck and over your collarbone--forearm framing your face, other hand gripping his cock, angling the glistening tip toward your throbbing entrance, teasing you briefly with a few false thrusts, slicking his length in your wetness.
"Are you ready?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "To feel me inside of you, filling you up?"
Your voice barely more than a breath, you nodded in response, averting your gaze to the ceiling. "Please."
Theo huffed, pulling his face from your neck, long fingers directing your gaze to meet his eyes.
"Look at me, bella..." he looped an arm under your neck, long fingers holding you in place. "I want you to look into my eyes as you feel yourself stretching out for me..."
Your lips parted in awe, speechless and utterly intoxicated. Doing as he said, you held his gaze, feeling yourself slowly getting lost in the ocean waves of his eyes. Theo groaned, his own breath shallow as he pressed the head of his dick into you, pushing you apart, and you whimpered, clenching before he even entered you. You were quaking--and he hissed through his teeth before he'd fully sank into you, letting loose a low, deep groan as your wet cunt swallowed his cock.
"Shh," he purred, glimpsing your lips. "Just a little bit more..."
Pleasure and pain erupted through your bloodstream as he stretched you wide, a sharp cry leaving your throat as he pushed deeper and deeper, stroking into your heat with the pace of a snail, inch by agonizing inch--pausing once he'd sunk in to the base. You could feel his cock pulsing inside of you, and you were breathless, unable to fathom how big he was, how full he made you feel.
"Fucking hell, are you okay?" he muttered almost under his breath, his voice cracking with concern as he looked into your eyes, his blue gaze searching for any sign of distress. When you merely nodded, the desperation in his expressions intensified. "Please, talk to me...keep me grounded..."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," you mumbled, still trying to catch your breath. "And what do you mean, 'keep you grounded'?"
Theo sighed heavily, emitting a low groan, his breath catching in his lungs as he withdrew slightly before smoothly gliding back into you. You whimpered, still holding his gaze, lips parted in unbelievable bliss. His hand cradled your head, staring at you with gleaming eyes as he found his rhythm, keeping every stroke deep and careful and full.
"I-I, fuck," he grunted through gritted teeth as he stared down at you. "You're so tight, so fucking wet...I can barely control myself..."
He lowered himself, ensnaring your lips in a profound, fervent kiss while maintaining a deliberate pace within you. Each rhythmic thrust unleashed renewed waves of ecstasy, prompting unrestrained moans from your chest and sending you writhing beneath him.
"You feel so good," he whispered as one of his hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch as he slowly began to increase the tempo of his thrusts. "I can't believe how fucking tight you are. You're going to make me cum so fucking hard, my pretty little virgin."
Your nails clawed at his back, your walls squeezing his thick length with every thrust. "Theo-harder, please..."
"Yeah? You want more, pretty girl?" he whispered, warm breath enveloping your ear. "Such a needy little pussy..."
You gasped, nodding as his lips attacked your neck. "Please, please-"
"Anything for you," he responded, his voice torn, each syllable saturated with longing. "Filthy little--fuck,"
He surged into heightened motion, the force of his hips colliding with yours intensifying upon your command. A sharp cry escaped you when he skillfully found that responsive spot within you, immediately unleashing a cascade of pleasure that surged through your body like electric currents. The intensity reached a near-overwhelming point, a delicate dance between ecstasy and a hint of exquisite pain, causing unbridled moans to spill from your lips uncontrollably.
"Mm," he grunted, a near growl in your ear. "Pretty pussy taking me so well,"
His paced increased again, slamming into your cervix with every thrust. His fingers resumed their work on your clit, yanking you toward your climax, your body being whiplashed with pleasure. You bit down on his shoulder, desperate to muffle your screams as your pussy squeezed him harder, yanked to the edge by the stretch of his cock slamming into you, his fingers battering your nub.
"Theo--w-wait," your words stumbled amidst waves of pleasure, your body convulsing beneath his unyielding onslaught. "Theo, please-I can't, I-it's too much...”
"Come on baby, I know you're close," his voice, raspy and unbridled, revealed the shattering of his self-control. He relentlessly pounded into you, beads of sweat adhering his hair to a glistening forehead. "I felt you squeezing me--fuck--you can take it..."
You gasped for breath, a desperate symphony echoing your lungs' protest as your teeth found refuge in his skin. Fingers, possessed by an almost primal force, clawed into his back, leaving an indelible mark. Theo's movements, unyielding and masterful, propelled you inexorably towards the precipice of climax, each sensation more vivid than the last.
"Theo-" you practically screamed, your body buzzing in anticipation. "I'm gonna' cum, Theo-fuck-"
"Let me hear you," he said, voice shredded raw. "I want to hear you scream for me...I want to hear you moaning my name as this tight little cunt breaks for me..."
"Oh, fuck.." you moaned, eyes squeezing shut. "Fuck, Theo...oh Gods, fuck..."
You shattered, euphoria tearing through you as your walls pulsed and milked his cock. Your eyes rolled back, vision going blank as squeals and screeches left your lips in nothing more than mumbling nonsense.
Theo groaned, bliss numbing your skin, limbs shaking and trembling as he pulled you through wave after wave of pleasure, gripping you tighter until he too exploded, breath sputtering as he poured himself into you, hips bucking until the only sensation left was sweaty, heaving, post-orgasmic rapture.
In the aftermath, an extended silence enveloped the room--long after the cadence of your breaths normalized, long after the faculties of your minds fully reassembled. Theo finally stirred, rolling off you to settle on the mattress, where he promptly drew you into the sanctuary of his embrace.
"Can we acknowledge our feelings already?" Theo teased, fingers delicately brushing loose strands of hair behind your ear. “You know I’ll fight you if we go back to just being friends after all of that.”
You huffed, on the precipice of unrestrained laughter. "Only if you go first."
As you shifted to lock eyes with him, a smirk adorned his face, that mischievous grin unfurling across his impeccably plush lips. "Fine…I'm fucking in love with you."
Your own smirk surfaced, a surge of warmth coursing through you as you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. "I'm in love with you too, you dork."
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a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 4.2k
summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he comes with you to rescue your twin brothers, Pollux and Castor. A weekend 'quest' teaches you a lot about Luke, and about yourself too. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader
a/n: um i cant apologize for this word count and ive been looking at this for too long so fuck. Anyways do yall think Luke felt bad when he found out Castor died in battle because of his army in this universe? just me?? okay :) also trouble gets a cool magic item that makes an appearance here, kinda works like polyjuice but with smoke
(posted 2/7/24 betad by lovely ellie @lixzey might edit again when i get some sleep)
—
“No. You might be my father, but you’re crazy, man!”
You’re standing in D’s office at the Big House, and what was supposed to be a short talk before the counselors’ meeting has turned into a full-blown argument. It’s hard to focus on anything other than the words leaving your godrent’s mouth.
You’re going to pick up your little brothers.
“Those two statements are both true, kid. You’re old enough to understand that!”
They need your help.
“You’re really letting your 16-year-old daughter drive down to Florida by herself to pick up some kids she’s never met? Won’t even send me with any quest companions, or like, Grover?” you say exasperatedly, before slumping down into a seat.
“Think of it as family bonding! They’re great from what I remember. You all need to get along anyway.”
Whether it was jealousy or the sudden urge to be petty, you impulsively grab your dad’s Diet Coke and chug it, crushing the can with your fist as a tiny act of rebellion.
Another one appears on the desk and you chuck it over your shoulder. Mr. D sighs as he conjures another one, to which you do the same thing.
“I can do this all day, kid.”
“So can I, and you know if I do, we’ll be sitting here until I’m 40,” you say expectantly, tapping your fingers on the hardwood surface of his desk.
“What do you want?”
The keys to his car are a start, as well as extra pocket money—but there was something, or rather, someone missing to make sure this weekend goes as smoothly as possible.
Your smirk widens at your father, and he wonders when you’ve gotten good at playing his own game.
It’s like looking into a mirror but his worst nightmare manifested as a teenage girl.
—
There are only two things Luke can think about when he hears the sound of your laughter.
The first is that, unlike your angelic singing that could rival the Muses, your laughter takes after the sound of a maniac, an incredulous crescendo that only something curated by Hades in the deepest pits of Tartarus could produce. It was almost madness-inducing, and it went off in his brain like you were a siren (although he means the kind used for weather advisory, he too gets lured in by your laughter each time he hears it like he’s lost at sea).
Second, as he watches you storm down the lawn of the Big House, your anger brewing something comparable to a Category 5, he raises an eyebrow and thinks, well this ought to be good. Or entertaining at the very least.
“You,” you growl at him, guttural and sharp like the finger you jab into his chest, “we’re going on a quest!”
“Me?” Luke blurts, eyebrows furrowing at you.
A loud groan echoes through the grassy space between the house and the counselors as everyone looks up to see Mr. D dragging his hands down his face at the sheer thought of his daughter causing him more gray hairs.
“That’s not what we agreed on, kid!”
“If you want any of your children to come back to this hellhole in one piece I need backup!”
“There’s more of you?”
Both you and your dad glare at Luke now, like he’s interrupting a private conversation.
“Since when do you like asking for help, princess?”
Mr. D’s arms are crossed over his chest as he speaks to you. Though your height severely differs due to the wooden steps of the Big House, the air is palpable with fear only an Olympian could invoke, reminding the counselors that the man wearing the ugliest Hawaiian shirt known to humankind, is in fact inhuman. You, however, are standing tall in the freshly-cut grass in your combat boots with wrath that could rival Ares’ as you stare your father down like the rest of them wouldn’t get struck into the next lifetime due to your impertinence, as Annabeth loves to call it. She looks up at Luke, with her eyes conveying that she thinks you must be clinically insane, but he knows that already so he shrugs.
“I’m not asking for it, I’m demanding it. Besides, he’s like my ESA,” you say, then taking Luke by surprise as you grab him by the wrist and drag him off the front lawn. You think you can hear Beckendorf and Clarisse bite back chuckles.
“Someone tell Rodriguez he’s in charge of 11!” you yell into the air, and words of affirmation and good luck are muttered in response.
“Don’t I get a say in this, trouble?” Luke says playfully, tugging at your arm lightly but unresisting as you sigh and pull him along. Who in their right mind says no to a long weekend away from this place? Monsters and demigods be damned.
“No. Besides, they’re gonna need more luck than we do.”
“Liam, I don’t know why she trusts you, but if my daughter dies, I’ll make sure you’re next!” Mr. D yells out to your retreating figures, and all of the counselors turn to face him realizing that without you, well… that means he actually has to be in charge.
“So what’s the meeting supposed to be about, Annabelle?” Mr. D says, looking at Annabeth only knowing that she’s supposed to be the smart one—and the small girl sighs.
This is gonna be the longest weekend yet.
—
You’re speeding down I-95 with the windows down and the wind brushing through both of your hair. While Luke watches you from the passenger seat with the road signs blurring past his periphery, he also notices that it’s the first time in a while that he’s seen you this carefree. With both of you taking up counselor positions a few months ago, and your dad appointing you to be in charge of all of them (because why have a counselor for a population of one), there’s a lot about you that’s grown up in the two years you two have known each other. But what type of demigod gets to enjoy their childhood anyway, right? Luke can only remember bits and pieces of his.
“How do you even know where we’re going? I can barely read the signs,” he asks.
“Cool blessing from my stepmom. Ariadne’s chill. We talk sometimes and she likes that I keep D in check, so now I can never get lost,” you grin toothily, violet eyes flickering to meet his.
“Was it true what your dad said? That you trust me?”
His voice is a bit louder than it should be over the wind tunnel that blocks out the sound of the radio as the air whips in and out of the car.
“Well, I wouldn't say trust,” you drag out, leaning back against your seat with your eyes still on the road, “More like if I got abducted by a harpy, I think you could cut its wings off and give me a fighting chance at living.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t invite Mason to come,” he mumbles, and you smirk.
“Who?”
His hands are clenched in his lap as a blush brushes his cheeks, windswept in the rays of the late summer sun.
“Your boyfriend. Wouldn’t he be a better companion?”
Something about the older son of Apollo always ground his gears. It was even worse that you both would sing Broadway musicals together during his sparring sessions. Your harmonious voices echoing from the amphitheater aside, the repetitive grating feeling in his stomach reminds him not to go see Hamilton if he ever makes it out to the city.
“He’s not…” you huff, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you think hard on what to say next, “He’s nothing serious.” You pull the sun visor down as you squint, tilting your head in case he says something else, but you hear nothing. Luke’s staring at your side profile, unable to hide his grin at the new information, biting his cheek.
“Besides, he’s a fucking terrible shot. And you’re supposed to be the best, so I’ve heard. Who else would I want on this trip with me?”
He chuckles at this lightly, your words bolstering his ego.
“So you’ve heard.”
And for a second, the sight of his smile distracts you enough that the car swerves a tiny bit closer to the median. You both ignore it and keep driving.
—-
Hypnos increases his hold on your senses as you finally take a break somewhere in North Carolina, taking refuge in a dimly lit corner of a gas station parking lot. The old car reeks of greasy fast food and all the sugar Luke could get his hands on at rest stops (it was really cute to see him indulge in more normal things like sweets instead of swordsmanship), and both of your seats are leaned back, but it’s hard to get comfortable after having your butt in the same seat for several hours.
You readjust yourself again, making the car shake a bit as you turn over to face Luke.
“What’s wrong?” he mumbles through closed eyes. His head’s banged against the window one too many times, and it was starting to get annoying.
“Sorry. Just can’t sleep. Thinking too hard.”
He sighs, reaching over to toss your pillow into the backseat, and as you sit up, he rips your blanket off of you too.
“Hey!”
You go silent when you watch him make a makeshift bed for you, turning back with tired eyes as he gestures, “Go ahead. I don’t mind.”
“I feel bad, Luke. You’re taller than me and your knees almost hit the dashboard.”
He rubs at his eyes, looking at you impatiently, and you know his body is calling for comfort too.
“I’ve slept in worse conditions, you gotta remember that, trouble.” The stories Annie used to tell you about the both of them sleeping on the streets pull at your heart, and as you crawl towards the back, you move before you think rationally–tugging on his arm.
“Come on over here.”
“You sure?”
“Before I change my mind, yeah.”
You both move around trying to find a place both of you can be comfortable in, first starting with your heads at opposite windows, legs tangling in the middle before he laughs a little too hard at your fumbling and you launch your pillow at his face. Awkwardly, you climb over his legs into his outstretched arms, slotting yourself against his side as he pulls your hair up from getting trapped between his shoulder and your back.
It’s deadly quiet, and Luke thinks if you could move any closer to him, you might hear his heart thundering in his chest.
“You smell like french fries,” you grumble into his sweater, and his laughter shakes you like an earthquake, uprooting the faint traces of sleep in your mind.
“At least the monsters won’t find us. Gonna be harder when the twins get here. A lot of demigod smell to ward off.”
You don’t answer, and he thinks you may have fallen asleep until he notices your hand playing with the frays of his sweater.
“Trouble?”
“They’re really little,” you mumble, so low that he barely hears the hesitance in your voice.
“The monsters? Yeah, I fucking ho–”
“Pollux and Castor. My…half-siblings, with really Greek names, and a mom that depends on me getting them to camp safely…” you trail off before your head jerks up to meet his eyes. It’s colder at night now, your bodies and the tiny throw blanket from your trunk providing ample heat even if his socked feet fight their way out from underneath.
“How old are they, nine?” He feels you nod against his chest before he continues, “I was nine when I left home.”
Your eyes get glassy at the thought of a smaller version of Luke, one who’s not all gangly legs and lean muscle—one much softer and innocent than the boy you lean your weight upon, running away from home to find a place he can belong.
“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”
He shrugs, the arm propped against the headrest wrapping around you and resting on your hip, tapping you to continue your previous thought.
“I don’t know how to do this, I guess. I’m ripping them from their home and I—”
“You’re not some kind of monster y’know? You put yourself down too much sometimes,” he sighs, and he watches the windows slowly start to fog up, “What don’t you know how to do?”
Ignoring his question, you change the subject hoping to talk about something lighter, and far less revealing to the thoughts inside your head.
“Do you remember all of that? Going to school and chalking up the sidewalks on the way home, hopscotch and ice cream trucks… I don’t want to take them away from that.”
Luke ponders, digging through his brain for anything happy from his childhood, but through the years his memories started to collect dust in the back of his mind.
“I don’t remember much.”
“Gods, I’m sorry…”
Mason had told you of your habit of putting your foot in your mouth. You dealt in extremes, giving too much or too little, always saying the wrong thing—and it was the reason why things didn’t go further with the son of Apollo. As well as with the daughter of Aphrodite you saw briefly that told you you didn’t know how to love, not if you didn’t know how to share yourself with others (yeah that one hurt a lot).
Sharing.
That’s what you’re hesitant about.
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago now,” Luke mumbles, a beat of silence passing before he redirects the conversation like you did, “What don’t you know how to do, trouble?”
“How to share. Be a sibling. Someone likeable.”
Luke doesn’t mean to laugh at your expense, but he does, and you punch his stomach hard enough he gasps for air.
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Everyone likes you.”
“Everyone’s usually scared of me because of D, or hates me because I take dessert privileges and write them up,” you say matter-of-factly, staring out the window above his head at the gentle shine of the moon on his features. It’s a crime for him to look so soft under the low light, and you realize you’re staring when he calls your name.
“No, you don’t get it—you’re the most selfless person I know. You give up sleep to sing to kids before bed, conjure juice boxes so they don’t pass out during training—I’ve seen you carry a kid almost as tall as you across camp because they broke their ankle. You’ve got a lot of love in that twisted heart of yours. I’d know… I mean—I have to share a lot… I’m basically an expert.”
You blink at him as if seeing him in a new light, and you realize then why you picked him to go on this weekend quest with you. Your heartbeat slows despite the show of vulnerability in front of him, and you understand now that Luke makes you feel safe. Biting your lip to hold back a sigh, you decide to just unload the rest of your thoughts, knowing that you’re in the hands of someone who wants to hold the weight.
“I’m just used to being alone, I think. I mean who knows what we're like when we're alone but us, right? What a terrifying thought,” you deflect, and Luke closely watches the slope of your nose, down to the smoothness of your lips, unable to put the right words to how he’s feeling.
I know you, he thinks, and it's not as all bad as you make it seem.
“We’re never truly alone, y’know. Besides, even if you are, you still have me,” he says nonchalantly, and the warmth on your cheeks could generate enough heat to run the car for miles. Chuckling lightly as your eyes flutter closed, you know you need to rest before morning comes since you’re the only one between the two of you that can drive. You reckon you’ll teach Luke by the end of the year if he wants to.
“We’re getting pretty terrible at this enemies thing, Castellan,” you jest with nothing hard to back it, and a smile falls onto both of your lips.
“We were never really enemies, trouble. I just like getting on your nerves.”
Your laughs fall silent, settling into a comfortable silence, until his next words send you off into slumber as you listen.
“I remember my mom singing in the kitchen as she put peanut butter on my sandwiches. She'd act like she left the dishes out for me to wash, but let me lick the knife clean every time and I’d put too much soap and the sink would be filled with bubbles. I don't remember much else but that. Her kitchen. She smelled like…chamomile.”
A wandering hand pulls his free one into yours, holding it until sunrise.
—-
You push Pollux and Castor out the door before the sun rises after a short stay at their mother’s house, and as the engine heats up, you and Luke watch them say goodbye to her with the both of you thinking of last words with your own. The both of you ward off the hellhounds biting off at your heels for a few hours like how you deceived the police the day previous, a purple Zippo lighter in hand whose smoke grants temporary illusions wafting through the car, and it smells like grapes (thanks D!). The kids sleep most of the way, none the wiser and heavy with sleep and their emotions of leaving everything they’ve ever known. Your eyes flicker to their sleeping heads in the rearview mirror, ready to take them home.
Hours later, Luke decides to make you stop at a diner to get you a bit of rest, get actual food, and let the twins pee, and your head is bobbing slightly in front of your plate of food once he brings them back from the bathroom.
“You wash your hands?” you say tiredly, both Pollux and Castor shaking wet hands in your face in response, making you giggle before sipping at your coffee. Luke cut you off from Redbull yesterday, saying he was scared for your liver and saying you needed to drink something else for a bit. He bristles at the sight of you drinking more caffeine, and you smile as the mug touches your lips.
“You’re gonna kill yourself one day. At least your dad drinks Diet Coke.”
“Not by choice, though what a way to go!” you joke, and the twins giggle as the both of them gulp down root beer like it’s essential to their being. Luke sighs at the idea of you having two minions under your belt, who you’ll most definitely train to raise hell on Camp Half-Blood now that you’ve taken more of the administrative side of things.
“Is he your boyfriend, sissy?” Pollux, or maybe it’s Castor pipes up, swinging his legs under the table and you smile at the sound of the nickname, noticing the dimple in his cheek. Luke chokes on his burger, coughing until you elbow him.
“He’s more of my ESA,” you remark, and he still doesn’t know what that is, so he raises an eyebrow like your brothers do as they peer up at you from across the table.
“What’s an ESA?” Castor, you realize, who has no dimples, spits out behind munches of a pickle.
“Luke’s my emotional support animal.”
He eats the rest of your fries despite your confidence in that response, grumbling exactly how a resistant dog would.
As you’re paying the bill, a large shadow looms over the sunny disposition of everyone at your table—and then Luke shouts for everyone to cover their eyes. Glass shatters over you, revealing a hellhound the size of a minivan, and it pounces toward the twins, large teeth bared at their throats. Before Luke can pull his sword out, you whistle sharply and the sound whizzes through the air like a bullet as you toss the Zippo lighter at him as he’s pushing the kids to the car. Though he’s reluctant to lose sight of you, he wards them with an illusion, locking the doors despite their cries and he runs headfirst back into battle, you with your thyrsus and him with his sword, back to back.
“They okay?” you heave, jabbing at the red-eyed canine between the eyes as Luke pulls around to slash it across the neck, coming out of the tussle unscathed as you both watch it keel over at your feet into golden dust minutes later.
“Yeah. Are you?”
Though you originally found it funny, Luke does perform his job well, getting you to calm down as he holds you to his chest until you can breathe normally again.
“Mhm. Just scared me.”
The two of you run out of the destroyed diner and into the warded-off car before the police show up hand in hand as you escape without detection. As he falls asleep, Castor dreams that you two are Bonnie and Clyde like in an old Western movie he was definitely not old enough to watch.
—-
You’re finally back on the Island now, only an hour away from Montauk and Luke is getting restless in the passenger seat. He pulls apples out of his backpack, wiping them off with his shirt as you sing along to a Taylor Swift song playing on the radio.
And maybe someday when we’re older, this is something we’ll laugh about…. Foolish one… you hum, tapping the wheel to fight off your exhaustion.
Pollux and Castor are using their fingers to pretend to hop over obstacles in the smudged windows, babbling about something they did in class last week. The son of Hermes pulls out a pocketknife he nicked from a gas station this morning as he starts to cut the apples into pieces, putting some into a ziploc bag for the boys to share, and you smile at him, wistful at your trip nearing its finish line. If you weren’t enemies before this like he said, it’s crazy to consider him your closest friend. But he is, isn’t he?
His knuckles nudge yours over the console, pressing an apple slice into your palm.
“You know, Castellan, you’re sweet when you want to be. Shame you and that sister of Annie’s didn’t work out.”
Luke scoffs at the reminder of his ex, slicing another piece off for you to eat. She did say he had wandering eyes…always looking for you. He’s not going to admit that though.
“I just know you like your apples cut. Saw you battling it out with a butter knife last week. Couldn’t help but notice,” he says lowly like it’s normal for people to be that considerate about others, normal for him to care about you like that, a constant push and pull between you two.
“Hurts my teeth,” you mutter, and Luke chortles like you’ve told him something life-changing. Your hand bumps into his again, feeling nothing but his calloused fingers, and when you look up his cheek protrudes with the last slice.
“Tax,” he winks, and you’re delirious with this feeling that only he can bring you, almost comparable to being high.
The popstar’s voice continues to trill in the background, with my head in my hands, saying “How could I not see the signs?”
You both don’t realize you’ve stopped singing until Pollux pipes up asking for you to play Fireball by Mr. 305 himself.
—-
The car finally pulls into the driveway of the forest path and you’re all greeted by the campers holding blazing lanterns. Chiron, your father, and the nymphs are waving as the twins marvel at the fairy lights strung up along the way for a warm welcome.
“You’re alive,” your dad remarks, and this time he doesn’t say it in jest, sounding more relieved.
“I was in good hands,” you affirm, looking up at Luke amongst the noise of your cheering friends and the feeling that comes with calling this place home.
The boys are tucked in at your side, shyly looking at the crowd, Pollux holding your hand while Castor holds onto Luke’s, and Chiron calls your attention.
“I know you didn’t get your official announcement,” he starts, and you laugh at that, remembering the bubbles in the lake.
“Because I pulled a fast one on D.”
“Nonetheless, I would love for you to get recognized for your efforts. Dionysus. Storyteller, Herald of Chaos,” he continues by announcing your name, and then,” Pollux, and Castor– children of the grapevine, the God of Wine!”
The campers are kneeling and you look at Luke, who’s smiling from the ground beside you.
“Take a picture, trouble, it’ll last longer.”
“My children are home safe. And thank you, Castellan, for being a formidable companion. My deepest appreciation.” Mr. D sounds serious for once, pulling Luke up as he nods in respect.
It’s a crazy feeling to finally feel at home though you’ve been here for two years now. But you remind yourself quickly of why that is when you see Luke carrying Pollux on his shoulders as Castor latches onto his legs.
“You know, your family is a nightmare. You two hellions will fit right in,” he grins.
You can’t help but agree.
—
“I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you bathing in my eyes. I hadn’t told them about you, but they saw you in my written words. The perfume of love cannot be concealed.” -Nizar Qabbani
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luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings
#luke castellan x dionysus!reader#luke castellan x reader fanfic#luke castellan x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#pjo x reader#luke castellan fluff#made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse#thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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from crush to girlfriend ♡ cl x reader
summary: charles manifested himself a gf with one (1) interview
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, vogue and 281.289 others
yourusername in my 'just killed my sugar daddy' era 🖤
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zendaya the era we all aspire to have 💖
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ynhottie ugh it's the all black aesthetic and black heart for me
yourbestie pop OFF girl
charleslechair not me innocently scrolling through the account of my fave actress only to see charles lurk here 🤕
honeybadger i noticed too and ???
yourusername
liked by f1, mercedesamgf1, pierregasly and 187.297 others
yourusername racing movie starring me when @.f1?
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f1 visit us again and we will make it happen!
liked by yourusername
pierregasly who did you root for?
yourusername not alphatauri that's for sure 🤣
gaslytsunoda not pierre shooting his shot and she shutting him down 😭😭
yourbestie you were awfully focussed on a certain red car 👀
liked by scuderiaferrari
ynfan YOU'RE SO GORGEOUS!!!!
enews 👀👀
f1gossip have we found another tifosi?
charleslechair
liked by f1gossip, ynfan, fe44ari and 3.287 others
charleslechair EXCUSE THE SHITTY ASS QUALITY BUT HELLO??? HE DID THAT WITH HIS WHOLE CHEST??? AND HE DIDN'T SOUND DISTRACTED BY THE SIM???
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ynfan losing my entire fucking MIND he did not just say this and expects us to be normal???
tifosi55 now im just imagining him going through all her movies, kicking his feet and twirling his hair as he watches her be GIFTED on screen
honeybadger that's all I'll be thinking about from now on 😭
f1gossip which movie was his fave place yalls bets. the one where she is in a wet dress almost the entire time or the one where she gets rid of her husband to get together with the hot french pool boy
ynfan ten bucks he saw himself in the french pool boy even tho he's not even french 😭😭
yourusername
liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, florencepugh and 233.298 others
yourusername monaco you have been brilliant but it feels good being back home on set 💞
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yourbestie living THE life and leaving all of us in the dust 😔
yourusername you're so dramatic babe
landonorris drinks? without any of us?
yourusername next time if I feel generous 😌
ynhottie humbled his ass 😭😭
charleslechair the way he's just. out here liking posts. not caring what he does to my mental health.
liked by charles_leclerc
charleslechair HELLO??
charles_leclerc
liked by scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, yourusername and 217.298 others
charles_leclerc this weekend wasn't quite as well as monaco has been, but we keep pushing 👊🏼
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scuderiaferrari onto the next one!
calamar16 we will get them next week charles!! keep your head up!!
yourusername maybe all you need is a lucky charm? 😉 (you were still impressive on track today)
honeybadger y/n flirting with him and simultaneously praising him... we love a queen that can do both
pierregasly looking forward to racing you next week mon ami
yourusername added to their story
f1gossip
liked by charleslechair, mercmaids, y/ngoddess and 12.281 others
f1gossip with @.yourusername in Italy, posting a story about a date night and charles being spotted kissing someone that many fans thought to be the actress, we for one cannot wait to see how this story unfolds! what are your thoughts on it? is it a fling or something more?
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charleslechair on my knees begging them to be the real deal because i CANNOT take any hot insta baddie being linked to charles anymore
y/nfan her last relationship went down in flames with someone that wasn't half as busy as he is. it's not going to last 😒
honeybadger trying not to let the parasocial relationship get to me but they'd be sooo cute. yes I'm basing that assumption off of two blurry pics and half a story no i don't take criticism
liked by f1gossip
charleslechair girl you're so real 😭😭😭 I thought I was the only one
yourbestie 👁👄👁
tifosi16 now THIS is an interesting development
mercmaids y/n suddenly appearing at charles' home race... charles saying she is his celebrity crush... the lucky charm comment.... date night.... stalker pics... connecting the dots but fr fr
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yourusername
liked by scuderiaferrari, alexademie, charles_leclerc and 387.281 others
yourusername on sunday's we wear red ❤ thank you for having me @.scuderiaferrari!
view all 23.837 comments
scuderiaferrari we still have to talk about that movie @.f1 😉
liked by f1
yourusername you got it!
f1gossip all I'm saying is that the next pics of them kissing aren't far away...
charleslechair stalker behaviour off the charts
charles_leclerc pierre is still not over the alphatauri comment
yourusername the comment still holds true 🤣🤣
honeybadger trying so hard not to fangirl rn
yourbestie the jacket and comment and everything ugh
yourusername you're too much girl 😭💖
y/nfan she's SO pretty oh my god
y/nhottie the banter is giving besties so now I'm confused
y/ngoddess biggest mood... y/n still in her single era would be hot tho
mercmaids they also never addressed the alleged kissing pics I'm SO confused
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charles_leclerc
liked by pierregasly, yourusername, f1 and 299.281 others
charles_leclerc winning in formula 1 is always an incredible feeling, but winning in front of the tifosi in monza is one I will chase year in and out! grazie to the team and tifosi and everyone that rooted for us this weekend 💪
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f1 🔥👊🏼
pierregasly next year is my turn again then 😁
carlossainz55 in your dreams mate
liked by charles_leclerc
tifosi16 YES CHARLES THAT LAST OVERTAKE WAS SO 🔥🔥🔥
charleslechair i was at the edge of my seat!!! you know how to keep us hooked
yourusername incredible race, charles. I was rooting for you the entire time 💖
liked by charles_leclerc
yourbestie so you're really his lucky charm huh
yourusername text me rn 😒
honeybadger i was so caught up in the euphoria of charles winning that for a moment i lived in a world where you confirmed a relationship
charles_leclerc added to their story
yourusername
liked by zendaya, florencepugh, charles_leclerc and 217.291 others
yourusername from italy to france! award season is getting kicked off in the city of love and lights <3
view all 27.281 comments
y/nfan THAT DRESS
y/ngoddess we will get so fed with content!!!!
zendaya we need to hang more
yourusername you decided not to show up 🙄😉
charleslechair charles’ story and now this I’ve had ENOUGH (jk never stop)
yourbestie I spy with my little eye... a hot girl off the market after this weekend :/
honeybadger the bestie of y/n being the real mvp was not on my bingo card
yourusername
liked by alexademie, pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 483.291 others
yourusername from celebrity crush to girlfriend in six months <3 @.charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc mon amour 💖
liked by yourusername
honeybadger SJAKJSKAKSKAKSKAKKSKAKKSJAJSKKW ?????
charleslechair I feel you girl
yourbestie my reaction when I found out
liked by charles_leclerc
pierregasly finally
yourusername says you 😒
alexademie 🖤
f1gossip this was only possible in parts to us 😁
mercmaids he manifested himself a girlfriend in six months meanwhile I'm over here struggling to manifest an iced coffee 😭
tifosi16 I'm not jealous I'm not jealous I'm not jealous I'm not jealous I'm not jealous I'm not jealous I'm--
y/nfan pretends to be shocked 😶😶
comments on this post have been limited
#f1 instagram au#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc image#**mine#if the last few posts look funky look away 😭😭😭 the formatting is so little on tablet
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☆ the wrong way to hard launch (3) | OP81
summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au
pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc
a/n some band dynamics and a mini reunion in toyko
masterlist | last part | part 3 | next part
INSTAGRAM
emptybottlesbar
liked by cameliazzz and 99,284 others
emptybottlesbar Hey! Our awesome lead guitarist turned 23 today AND it's on the first night in Jakarta 🫨 Be sure to give our boy some love!
P.S. we couldn't find old birthday photos without Lina
(1: Kas' 23rd birthday, 2: Kas' 17th birthday, 3: Kas' 14th birthday)
tagged: emptybottles_official, lukaszhang and selinabui
selinabui i'm sorry i was like his only friend growing up?
28kaslina24 kaslina 🩷❤️🩷❤️
emptybottles_official
Beach City International Stadium
liked by lukaszhang and 299,726 others
emptybottles_official Snaps from Jakarta, you guys were an amazing crowd, we hope you had as much fun as we did 📸 📸 next stop: Tokyo, Japan
cameliazzz kas and aid both need haircuts why did i not notice this
↳ selinabui @ cameliazzz maybe bc ur behind them all the time
TWITTER
lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h
in honour of the next stop of the 'twelve more days' tour being tokyo, here's the best thing to come out of the 'overtime' tour (before it got cancelled):
↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h
look at kas serving in that polka-dotted scarf
↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h
the greatest discovery was that kas and aid shared rooms the whole tour
↳ 🕯️manifesting EB3 🕯️@ linabelles · 2h
did we ever find out about the sushi train thing?
↳ lina bui x2 grammy winner @urdaisea · 2h
lina and cami went to an all-you-can-eat sushi train and almost missed night 2 because they were throwing up backstage
↳ li(n)a @meliabelrose · 1h
why is this giving "pam and i feed off each others energy..." "she said that?" energy 😭😭
↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 1h
can't believe this was 4 years ago???
INSTAGRAM
oscarpiastri
liked by landonorris and 109,182 others
oscarpiastri Still not over this weekend
selinabui see you soon stranger 💖
↳ pastry81 HUH LINA WDYM SEE YOU SOON???
zhouguanyu24 the last picture 👀
landonorris great to be home, eh?
emptybottlos papaya stuff, papaya stuff, papaya- lina???
↳ piastri_lina @emptybottlos gagged us all WHERE'S THAT COMMENT THAT SAID OSC DIDN'T CARE FOR HER
logansargeant "I did great at my home race" "the fans were amazing" "also I got to watch my girlfriend's sold-out tour's opening show"
↳ oliviafufu @ logansargeant OPENING SHOW??? HE WENT ON THURSDAY AS WELL?
selinabui
Tokyo, Japan
liked by eb_jonno and 118,972 others
selinabui in the daytime (and early evening)
oscarpiastri Well, that's a completely flattering angle of me, thanks :D
↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri omg i think so too 🥰
jemma.wren lina as linabell oh she's so cute <3333
2cami4lina serious question here, does he wear anything other than orange?
↳ cameliazzz @2cami4lina from when i've seen him? no
aidan_ebass Who won billiards?
↳ selinabui @aidan_ebass ur kidding right? don't you know how amazing i am? (kas did)
↳ 28kaslina24 @ selinabui kas was there? oooh osc*lina never beating the pr relationship allegations 🤭
oscarpiastri just posted to their story
TWITTER
pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 17h
OSCAR PIASTRI WHAT THE HELL???
↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 17h
i need to know what he said pls what did he say for her to react like that
↳ june @linafesting · 17h
"mr piastri why are you wilding rn" HAD HER USING PROPER 'YOU'S???
↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 17h
"Wdym 😇" he's sick for that now we all want to know what he meant
kayla @luna_apocolypse · 2d
if my math is right... we could get lina supporting oscar in suzuka
↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 2d
last tokyo show: friday, april 5th
suzuka gp: friday, april 5th to sunday, april 7th
first sk show: friday, april 12th
BONUS: osc's birthday is april 6th 🥸
conNUH @chickenbirch · 39m
idk what world im living in anymore
↳ conNUH @chickenbirch · 38m
lina pls... he's just another pasty white guy i--
↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 18m
oh shit im realising my 'im totes interested' face is lacking
↳ president linami @ linaminami · 16m
AHHH???
↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 1h
HELP i didn't realise she was totally blanking out as kas was yapping
↳ june @linafesting · 1h
she truly looks like she'd rather be anywhere else
↳ camilina gfs fr @ drummergf · 2h
kaslina stans realising the new kaslina content is this 🤡
↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 1h
first pic is the exact same way i look at my brother (sheer 'stfu' energy)
BONUS : the unedited insta dm
✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:
taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification
#f1#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x oc#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri smau#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 smau#f1 fic#f1 smau#f1 imagine#f1 social media au
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Inconceivable!
Summary: No one tells you how hard it is to have to plan to leave and hurt the love of your life. However, when you know you want different things, you must choose. And your baby is probably the only thing you can ever imagine choosing over Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw.
Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem! Reader
Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick
Word count: 8.2k words
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, fertility problems, panic attacks, Angst with a happy ending, threatening to break Brad's heart, so many references to The Princess Bride,Soft!smut, Soft!Bradley, Organized!Bradley. Let me know if I missed any others.
Authors Note: No use of Y/N. As always, I love BradBrad so much y'all. I don't know if I can write nonangsty smut. I was thinking of him and kids. The next thing you know I wrote whatever this is. Bradley wearing glasses 🥵. I hope you enjoy this! My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are always appreciated as well! I love reading through them.
You knew Bradley never wanted to be a father, which was just fine with you because you knew you couldn't have kids. You had known about your fertility problems for a long time and had long ago come to peace with it.
Y'all had several conversations about children when you first started dating. Once you both felt like your feelings on the matter were hashed out, you had never really felt like revisiting the topic. Your life wasn't less or empty without kids. You were perfectly content with the life you and Rooster had made together.
That's why you have no idea what to do with the situation you are in right now. You were at your gynecologist for your annual check-up. Taking a pregnancy test was standard procedure, something you didn't even bat your eyes about or worry over. What you weren't prepared for was the positive results back.
"I'm sorry?" You choked out in disbelief. "That can't be possible."
"I know this is probably surprising, but," your doctor starts to say before you cut them off.
"No. No, I have known since I was 17 that I can't get pregnant."
"Well, you are and can. Sometimes miracles like this can happen," your doctor responded kindly.
She went on to ramble more and talk about some next steps and options. You felt shocked, not entirely sure how to process the information she was throwing your way. You left the office a bit later, promising to set up a follow-up appointment.
Your first thought was to get an abortion. It was the obvious solution. Bradley didn't want kids, and you hadn't wanted them either. Right? You tried to think if it was true. Was it that you didn't want kids or just that you couldn't have kids?
For the next week, you tried to run the pros and cons and sort out your feelings on what was happening. You tried to act as normal as possible with Bradley. You didn't want to bring anything up until you knew how you felt.
Part of you kept coming back to when you were a little girl to how growing up before you knew that you couldn't have kids, the promise you would whisper to yourself. The promise of how you would do better than your own parents did.
You thought of the fantasies you used to have: the baby shoes, baking in the kitchen guiding a tiny pair of hands, sports practices, matching sweaters for family holiday cards, first recitals, proms and homecomings, dropping them off for their first day of college, and parent's weekends where you buy cheap booze, family trips, the possibilities of grandkids.
Now suddenly, all those fantasies were a possibility again. A reality that could come true in less than a year. Thinking about them brought an ache to your chest. An ache that manifested as want, a desire so strong all the cons you could come up with didn't really matter, well, all of them but one.
The biggest problem of the puzzle was Bradley, the love of your life. You had absolutely no doubt that he would do the right thing and stay by your side. However, you didn't want him to be a dad because he had to do it. The thought of him being forced to do something he didn't want to, just because it's the right thing, made your stomach roll. The idea of part of him resenting you, and eventually your child too, because of something you chose. That was something you couldn't live with.
So even though you felt a heavy hurt in your chest, you knew you had to leave Bradley. You weighed that heartbreak compared to the want for this child that had bloomed in your chest, and one outweighed the other. So now, on top of thinking about the baby, you started to think through quiet plans of how it would hurt your husband least to leave him.
You almost broke down one night and told him the two of you had been lying on the couch together. Bradley was casually spooning you from behind, one of his hands playing with a lock of hair while the movie he picked played on the TV. Of course, it was the Princess Bride, one of his all-time favorites.
You were half watching the movie, half dozing. Bradley was too good at soothing you, and you had started noticing a significant change in your energy levels as of late. You mentally made a note to bring it up at the follow-up doctor's appointment you had scheduled.
"I would do that," Bradley suddenly says, bringing you back to alertness.
"Oh really?" you hum, unsure what he was talking about.
"Yes, I would wait five years and chase after kidnappers, fight the prince, build a tolerance to poison, all for you, baby."
Bradley's honest love for you warmed your chest like it always did. However, the current circumstances turned that warmth into a bitter aftertaste in the back of your throat. What you were doing haunted you. His hand drops your hair and traces down your arm until he threads your fingers together. His large hand in yours helped further break down your resolve.
"What if I asked you to do something you didn't want to?" You ask him hesitantly.
"If you wanted me to, then I would," Brad tells you plainly. As if that were a given, you should just expect that his desires would line up with yours. It doesn't put you at ease like you were hoping it would.
"What if it was something you really didn't want to. Something bigger than sword fights and rodents of unusual size?"
His hand flexes squeezing yours a little tighter. Bradley doesn't say anything for a moment, and you wait with bated breath. Finally, he nuzzles your neck with his nose before asking, "Do you have something specific in mind?"
That was the moment, the moment that you could come clean to him. You could be honest and lay it all out on the table, but you don't. You can't. You aren't ready to let him go yet; it's too soon, you tell yourself.
So you lie to him, finally pushing the words out your throat, "No, nothing specific. Just asking."
Bradley's fingers that are laced with yours squeeze yours again, and you have the sneaking suspicion that he doesn't believe your lie. "Well, even if it was big. We would do what we always do. We'll talk about it and figure it out. Then I'll agree with what you want, just like I always do."
"You shouldn't do things you don't want to do just for me, Brad," you chastise him lightly. The heavy pit in your chest constricts even more.
He kisses your head, pulling you a little tighter against him in his embrace. "Sure, whatever you say, babe."
The whole thing sits with you for another week, and the doctor's appointment you made starts to creep closer. You are reading an article in incognito mode on your phone about nutrition during pregnancy and the importance of vitamins. Occasionally, you glance up to see Bradley sitting on the other side of the couch.
He has a thick World War Two biography book wide open, nearing the end. His reading glasses are perched on the edge of his nose. Even though you had teased Brad relentlessly when he first got them, the glasses were actually really hot. The sight of them on him now makes heat start to bud in the bottom of your abdomen.
You lock your phone and set it aside, looking more thoroughly at Bradley now. He was so so very handsome. You found it unlikely there would ever be another man you would allow into your bed after him. The edges of panic that seep into you every time you consider the inevitable end with Bradley makes a reappearance. You push it to the side as much as possible, but it creates a sudden desperation for him in you.
"Bradley."
"Yes, my love?" He asks, not looking up from the page in front of him.
"I need something."
"What do you need?" He turns the page of his book and pushes those damn glasses higher up the bridge of his nose.
"I need you," you tell him, biting your lip.
His eyes snap up from the page to look at you, and his eyebrows raise, processing your words. "What was that?"
"I need you to make love to me, Brad. I'm on fire."
He dog ears the page he is on his book and sets it on the coffee table, turning to give you his full attention. His hands casually trace up your leg, massaging the tense muscles of your claves.
You let out a soft sigh at the feeling. A few moments later, Bradley crawls up your body, pressing soft kisses to your neck and then melding his lips to yours. You sigh into his mouth, enjoying the taste of him, trying to savor it. You pull off his reading glasses so they aren't in the way, haphazardly tossing them away.
When he starts to pull away, you wrap your arms around him, drawing him closer, not wanting any space between you. You trace one of your hands down his neck and under the collar of his shirt, tracing his shoulders, kissing him harder, slipping your tongue into his mouth.
"What has got you so needy, sweet girl?" He asks you, confused, pressing a few soft sweet kisses to your throat.
"Just you, handsome man," you tell him, trying to draw Bradley back to your lips. Bradley smiles, hearing your words but then shifts off you and the couch.
Before you can protest at his absence, he goes to pick you up. Like every time Bradley picks you up, you are hit with the worry that it will be the time he can't do it, or he will drop you, make heaving grunting sounds, or some other terrible mishap will come to pass. It doesn't, though; he secures you in his arms and starts to carry you through the house to your room.
You start pressing kisses to the readily presented column of his neck then. When he reaches your bed and goes to put you down, you sink your teeth into the space where his neck starts to curve into his shoulder. Although he lets out a hiss, you hadn't held back with the bite. You made it intending to mark him.
When he does set you down, you scramble hurriedly to start undressing him, desperate to see and feel the expanses of his golden skin. Unfortunately, you only get Brad out of his teeshirt before he stops you. His large hands close around your wrists, holding them tight, preventing them from moving further down, lower than the top of his abdomen.
"Slow down, pretty girl. We got all the time in the world," he says. You know, he said it to be soothing, but he didn't know how wrong he was. He didn't understand the finite amount of time you had left together.
So when he lets go of your wrist, you instead start to pull off your own clothes and settle yourself on the bed. You stare at him expectantly and let out the smallest huff.
"Slow down." He tells you again, "And, don't move your hands off the headboard," When he is satisfied with how you are holding it, he starts to kiss down your body.
"Why are you so worried?" he breaths out against your inner thigh, pressing feather-light kisses to the skin there. "You know I'm going to take care of you, my love. I always do. There's no reason to be so worried."
Bradley's words manage to hit the exact spot of comfort you are actually needing. Even though you are planning on leaving him. You still want him to take care of you; you want to do this with him. But, you also know that can't happen. So, regardless you feel more at ease; the desperation in you is not quite so hot, not making you jittery with need.
Bradley rewards the way your body relaxes by licking stripe over you. You resist the urge to let go of the headboard and bury your hands in Bradley's thick hair. The way he sucks your clit into his mouth to roll his tongue over makes you arch, needing more. Bradley lays his arm across your hips, applying pressure to keep you still under him.
The more you work to struggle against his arm, feeling your high edge closer and closer, a thought suddenly pops into your head. Is it still okay for Bradley to hold you down like this? Are you going to hurt your baby? It's an irrational thought, you know that, but your body instantly reacts to it. Of course, so early into your pregnancy, there is no reason this would be a problem, but you still drop your hips down onto the bed, no longer trying to move them against him. Your distraction pulled you far back from the edge.
You try to focus on the feel of Bradley's tongue and how warm he feels with his shoulders caged between your thighs. But only a few breaths later, Bradley is lifting his head to look at you.
He has a crease between his eyebrows, and his tongue that was just around you darts out to lick to own lips. "What just stopped you from coming?" he asks, concerned. His voice is thick and low. His hold over your waist disappears as he draws soothing circles on your hip. Bradley's concern draws you back to him and into the want you have for him.
You let go of the headboard and stretch out your arms. Then, burying your hands in his hair, you tilt Brad's face to fully meet your eyes.
"Make love to me, Bradley," you beg him. He stares at you for a very long minute, and you stare back at him, waiting. Finally, he pulls his eyes away from yours and stares at your center in front of him.
"As you wish," he mutters the words. Rooster pulls himself off the bed and pulls his sweats off. You drag your eyes over his naked body, taking him all in. You lick your lips at the sight.
"You are breathtaking, Brad," you tell him. That smile that melts your heart shows up on his face, and he glows under your praise.
You crawl to the edge of the bed and trace your hands up his muscular thighs. You guide your hand upwards. You brush over his cock, not really giving it any attention, before outlining his side, watching his stomach and abs contract under your fingers. You go slowly, trying to memorize the feel of his skin under you. You kiss along his chest too.
He leans down and captures your lips. You kiss Rooster back, glad that the fervor has left your body, but you are no less desperate for him. The desire to memorize him doesn't go.
You urge him onto the bed, pushing him on his back. You straddle Bradley, settling over him, with his cock nestled in between your lower lips. You give a small rock, his head bumping into your clit. You moan a little and repeat the motion.
Leaning forward, you rest your hands on his chest to give you more leverage. Rooster moves his hips with you increasing the friction. The pace is slow and almost teasing for both of you.
Shifting your weight, you lean and kiss him again. Bradley's tongue slips into your mouth, running against yours. One of his hands comes up and rests on your hip, urging you, pulling you further down to rub against him harder. His other hand cups one of your breasts, his thumb running over your nipple in swirling strokes.
You break his embrace just to reach your hand and guide him inside. Bradley lets out a heavy sigh as he slips into you. You resist the urge to slide all the way down his length, keeping it slow.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he tells you, biting his lips.
"Love how you fill me, Brad," you sigh once he is fully hilted. Both of you are breathing more elevated. When you start to move your hips again, Bradley closes his eyes and presses his head back into the bed.
You immediately stop moving, glaring down at him. "No," you say, and his eyes open instantly, looking at you again. You reach up a hand to grip his chin affectionately, holding his face in place. "I need to see you."
"You are so beautiful," he tells you. Bradley does as you want and doesn't break eye contact again.
The room is filled with both of your moanings as you work together at a slow, steady pace. The way his hands run along your skin and back is almost reverent. The heat in you starts to build again. You grind down hard onto Bradley so that your clit gets more stimulation.
Rooster's right hand comes around and settles on your lower stomach, applying pressure and letting his thumb dip down to brush your clit in light strokes. You gasp, a moan breaking from your throat. You freeze on top of Bradley's cock, enjoying the zing his thumb just sent up your spine.
"That's right. So good." Bradley moans out, pressing his thumb harder into you. Even though he is filling you so deliciously, you don't feel close enough to him. You feel like you want to crawl into his skin. That would be the only thing that would satisfy your need for him.
You grab his hand that isn't on your clit and thread your fingers together. His hand grips yours back. Bradley doesn't make any movement to shift either of your hips, content to play with your clit and stare into your eyes.
"Fuck, I love you." Bradley groans out, biting his lower lip. You start to rock your hips into his again, but for the most part, keeping him fully hilted inside you. You almost feel like you are drowning in his eyes with how he looks up at you. His heavy-lidded gaze makes you clench around him.
Your moans and quiet pants mix with his. The tension in you grows as you swirl your hips into his.
"Need this, need you." Bradley swirls his thumb a little harder and does break eye contact to nip your neck, sitting more up on the bed to get a better angle. Having more of your skin pressed together helps ease more of the ache in you.
You grip his hair again, pulling him up, shifting, so you are chest to chest. Bradley's free hand clutches you close to him. You trace the scars on his cheek with your lips before kissing him again.
"I love you," you sigh against his mouth. He groans and rocks his hips into yours, creating a bit more friction. Rooster understands just what you need, not pulling out of you.
The two of you build a rhythm together; finally, you can't hold back anymore. The bubble in you bursts, and you clench hard around Bradey's cock. Bradley takes a few more gasping breaths and then cums in you with a low moan. Bradley starts to move like he is going to pull out of you, so you whine and hold him closer.
"No, no. I need you closer," you tell him. You are still desperate to have him near. You press your nose into Rooster's neck, breathing in his natural musky scent. Trying to absorb the smell entirely, memorizing it before biting the skin and tasting it.
"Woah. Woah," Bradley says breathily. You let out a low hum in response, trying to savor his sounds as well. You wiggle your hips against him again, where he is still half hard. You consciously clench around his dick, reminding yourself how full Bradley makes you.
"Baby, stop," he says. Rooster's voice is wrecked, and his large hands hold your hips still. At first, you don't even hear his request until he repeats it more forcefully. Then he rolls you over onto your back and pulls out of you quickly. You gasp at the sudden loss of him. You have to lay there for a moment, trying to reorient yourself. Bradley is sitting on the edge of the bed, panting hard, his hands on his knees.
"Bradley?" You croak out, reaching a hand hesitantly towards him. He looks back at you, and his face is a mix of panicked and furious.
"What the fuck was that?" He asks you in a low growl.
"What was what?"
"Don't bullshit me."
"I have no idea what you are talking about," you tell him, drawing your eyebrows close together.
"That was was goodbye sex," he says slowly. Your mouth drops open, and you try to reach around your rattling brain to come up with an answer, an excuse. However, you find it completely empty.
"That was the exact kind of sex we have before I leave and deploy. You had the same look." Bradley was almost shaking, and you had no idea what to say that wouldn't be a lie.
"What's going on? Something has been wrong for weeks. I keep waiting for you to talk to me, and you fucking haven't."
"I —" you start to say, but Bradley's eyes are so captivating, so genuine, you can't lie to him. So before you even know what you are saying, the words fall out of your mouth, "I'm leaving."
Rooster physically recoils at your words. The line of his back is taut, and his eyebrows draw together. His mouth presses into a tight line. His jaw flexing, and you can tell he is clenching his teeth. "What did I do wrong?"
"No, sweetie," you say quickly. "It's not you. It's me." You tell him gently. It was you, well, you and this baby, but Brad didn't need to know that. Your words only seemed to make him more upset.
"Are you kidding me? You didn't just say that." He mutters it under his breath, pulling at his short curls in frustration and glaring at you. He is so tense the veins in his bicep and neck start to pop.
"I'm sorry," you offer him quietly.
"I don't want to hear sorry. I want to hear a reason. Were you going to tell me? Or just planning to disappear?"
"Of course, I was going to tell you."
"When?"
"Soon."
"Why? "
"I can't..."
"No. I think I deserve to know why the love of my life is leaving me," Bradley says, frustrated. He stands up from bed, goes to his drawers, and pulls on some boxers to throw on. He also grabs one of his old Sigma Pi shirts out of his drawer and throws it for you to shrug on.
You felt shame and frustration building in you. You didn't want to deal with this situation right now. You didn't want to have to tell Bradley why. Then to your absolute horror, and probably the hormones coursing through you, you burst into tears.
Bradley's pacing halts for a moment at the sight of your tears, but then he resumes momentarily as he balls his fist tight. His knuckles turning a paler shade.
"We want different things." You gasp out between the sobs racking your body.
"We want different things," he repeats slowly, like he is trying to piece out some hidden meaning in the words.
"Yes," you hiccup nodding your head.
"How could that be possible?" He questions you sharply. "If that were the case, we wouldn't have gotten married. And you didn't mention anything when we had our last relationship check-in."
Bradley was big on communication. He insisted y'all have seasonal relationship check-ins with each other to talk about anything that had happened and how you were feeling about your relationship. This conversation should have probably been reserved for the next one, but you couldn't wait a few more weeks before leaving, or Bradley would know.
You were going to start showing at some point; while all the articles you read were inconsistent about when that might happen, it would happen eventually. You knew it would probably be impossible to leave Rooster if he knew that you were pregnant. Every moment with him weakened your resolve to do the right thing.
"Things change, people change." You weakly tell him. Not able to conceive a better excuse.
"I don't understand why you are jumping into leaving me. Baby, why won't you talk to me?" Bradley suddenly dropped hard to his knees on the wood floor at the side of the bed. You winced at the sound it made. He pulls one of your hands into both of his. "Please talk to me," he begs you, holding your hand delicately in his. The puppy dog look Bradley has mastered coming out in full force.
"I can't…"
"You can," he reassures you, swiping a thumb across your pulse point. You felt your stomach roll, the emotions in you going haywire.
"I'm…" you trail off and then shake your head at him in denial of this situation. As soon as you tell Bradley, it will be over.
"It's okay, baby. Anything. You can tell me anything. Talk to me. I won't be mad," he adds on for your benefit. Your plans all crumbled at that moment because how can you deny Bradley Bradshaw anything when he begs for it.
"I'm pregnant," you finally whisper in a barely audible voice. With how Bradley reacted to your words, you might as well have screamed them. First, he flinches like a whole body flinch. Every muscle you can see tensing. He shutters and his grip on your hand tightens to where it is almost painful.
Bradley freezes like that for a moment, blinking at you owlishly, before he drops his head down, hiding his face from your view. Finally, he presses his face down into the bed.
You wait with bated breath. Rooster's grip on your hand didn't lessen in the slightest. You feel panic settle in the back of your throat when his shoulders start to tremble, and he still hasn't said anything.
"Bradley?" You flex your hand, resisting his tight grip, and he releases you. His hands fall limply on the bed. He still hasn't looked at you, though.
Tears start to streak down your face faster, and a small sob hitches in your throat. "I am sorry," you tell him sincerely.
"Are you really?" His low voice asks muffled.
"Sorry, or pregnant?" You ask pulling up the collar of his shirt you are wearing to wipe away some of your tears. "Because it's both."
His hands come to clasp themselves together, and you briefly wonder if he is praying. The shaking of his shoulders and the inability to see his face make it increasingly impossible to understand his reaction.
Finally, he looks at you, and those hazel eyes bleed back at you, tears still falling down his face staining his cheeks a bright red even through the healthy tan he has right now. Bradley's eyes trace over your face looking like he is searching for any trace of a lie. Then he examines your body under his shirt like he might already see a difference.
As if there was a difference, he would be able to notice now that he didn't notice before when you were naked, and he was inside of you. You wrap your arms around your chest, hugging yourself under his scrutiny.
"I'm going to keep it." You finally tell him now that Bradley's shining eyes are available for scrutiny again. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his face falls into a frown. "I'm sorry," you say again.
You try to think of the right words to explain yourself to him. "When I found out, I realized I wanted this. I know we always said we didn't. But I really want this baby, Bradley. I am sorry I kept it from you. I just didn't know how to tell you. And then I saw these baby shoes in the store. They were so cute." Your fingers knot into the edge of the worn frat shirt you are wearing. His hazel eyes aren't giving you much to go off of. They are still darting around your face like he is trying to figure out what you are telling him.
Brad abruptly stands up in the middle of your rambling. So, you halt your words. Watching him as he walks out of the room. You strain your ears, trying to listen to where he went. You hear the hallway door open and beeps coming from the safe. After hearing it click open and seal again, Bradley's feet can be heard on the hallway floor again.
Your mind runs, trying to think of what he could have grabbed from the safe. Your important documents? You silently make a note that was something that you need to be sure to pack. You wouldn't want to come back to Bradley to get your passport or something after leaving. Could it be money? Was he going to give you money to leave with and give you some of the cash you two had been saving to move?
The thoughts make breathing extra hard, and you start to suck air in and out rapidly. The panic floods your veins, making the walls of the room shrink inward towards you. Sharp tingles prick at your fingertips and toes.
Before you can run through any other possible scenario, he gets back.
You can't focus on Bradley enough to see him through the black that starts to edge in at the corner of your vision. You desperately try to pull a gasping breath in your chest. The action of breathing is suddenly too overwhelming.
The panic of what you had just done finally cutting into you. That Bradley now knew the secrets you had been harboring so close to your chest. There is wringing in your ears, the shuddering wracking your body. You curl into yourself to try and shield yourself from the hurt and panic ringing through your body.
Then, you are engulfed. There isn't enough weight on the outside of you to combat the storm of panic that was trying to burst out from the inside of your veins. Numbness fills your body, and you know you are close to passing out. The storm brewed inside you, desperate to escape your body, desperate to take you out at the same time.
Heaving in breaths gets harder and more difficult. You dig your nails hard into the skin of your thighs, trying to scramble for anything to steady yourself. Fighting each desperate moment when there is s shift.
At first, you don't know what has changed. However, your breaths get a gasp longer, allowing slightly more oxygen, and the black in your vision starts to recede. You slam your eyes shut at the nausea you feel. The more air you can finally take in, the more you are allowed to start making sense of anything besides your own haywire body.
You are wrapped in your weighted blanket, and the extra pressure is aided by Bradley. He is holding you tight within his arms and legs, and he has you pulled close to his chest.
His legs are wrapped around your hips and crossed in front of you. Giving the front of your body room. Your legs are trapped between you two. One of his arms is crossed over your chest, and the other is petting your head soothingly, playing with your hair occasionally.
Bradley is humming to you. You try and focus on the tune. It's like a lifeline; you cling to the sound, letting it help your thoughts trail away from your panic. You keep trying to breathe bigger, longer breaths consciously now.
It's a tune you have heard before. Finally, Bradley breaks from the humming, whispering one of the lyrics into your ear, and you can immediately place the song.
"Love of my life," he mutters lowly into your ear, and then he returns to his humming. You are flashed back to a different time he sang this song to you.
He had been perched on the bench of a piano. Fingers gliding over the keys in time, his sweet voice dipping between octaves. It was Love Of My Life, by Queen. It is the song Bradley sings to you before every single deployment.
The song feels like a confirmation that you two will not be making it. A confirmation he is letting you go. This is the song that always fills the space between you when parting ways. The small semblance of recovery you had made is gone. Your breaths start to quicken again as you are dragged back into the panic.
Bradley's arms flex hard, and there is slightly more pressure around you. The beads of the weighted blanket shifting under his hands. He continues humming the song, but this time he peppers in a few more of the lyrics.
"Love of my life, don't leave me," he croons softly into your ear.
You don't know how long Bradley holds you waiting for you to calm down. You don't ever feel at ease, but the slow breaths and Bradley's soothing voice help bring you down from the high and worst of the panic attack.
You manage to let out a little whimper, and Bradley's arms start to loosen around you in slow intervals. You turn your face to the side, slotting your eyes up to catch a glimpse of him. Bradley has his eyes closed, and his face is splotchy and red from crying still. You fill in some of the lyrics to his humming in a cracked, barely there voice. Those beautiful eyes flash open, hearing your voice join his humming.
He won't stop humming, though. Rooster's hazel eyes are so intense, a medusas snare, that even as hard as you try to close your eyes, you aren't successful. They have captivated you entirely. Bradley finishes humming the song and lets his arms slip from around you. His legs uncross, and they fall flat on the bed on either side of you.
You push the weighted blanket off your top, so it is pilled around your legs as you ease out of your curled position.
"BradBrad," you whisper for him. You are still trembling at the very tips of your fingers. The buzz and tingles at the front of your nose are still persistent, but feeling has returned to the rest of your body. The needles fade out of your hands and legs.
"Love of my life," he hums sweetly again. His eyes have a tiny bit of worry, but for the most part, they are full of love and adoration for you. His body is borderline hot to the touch and feverish behind you. His heart is thumping loudly under your ear.
Brad's now loose hands find new purchase, gliding over your hips, tracing slow, steady circles. Then his left hand starts creeping forward further. Bradley's large hand is suddenly under his shirt and splaying out flat against your lower belly. That is where it finds its perch.
You gasp at the feeling of his hand, at the placement of it. Brad's fingers make the tiniest indents pressing into your skin. Your breath hitches at his squeeze. The metal of his wedding ring is warm against your skin, a nice contrast to the rest of his hand.
Hearing the way your breath hitches, Bradley immediately lays his hand fully flat. Bradley now retreating to a feather-light touch. His fingers swirl in an unknown pattern on your skin. His hands like to trace the shapes of flight paths he has memorized.
It was something Bradley had confessed to you one night during pillow talk. The two of you sprawled together. You were laying half on his chest. His fingertips were tracing the length of your spine, in feather-light trials, moving from the base of your spine to the small of your back, then following the path again. His fingers would sometimes brush into your hair and give small scratches before tracing your flesh again.
"How do you do that?" You finally had asked him.
"Do what?" He responded, but something about the glint in his eye told you he knew exactly what you were referring to. Rooster just wanted you to admit it out loud.
"You are so consistent, but you keep me on my toes." Bradley's hand stills where it had been gliding on your back. Then he started to trace once more, but this time his fingers making small movements and taking on a new drag like pattern dancing across your back.
"Is that right?" He asked you, but there was a full-blown boyish smirk donning his face.
You nodded your head, licking your lips. The tingles that his hands were sending through your body started to warm you up even after just having finished with him. "Yes, it rocks my world. So, why don't you let me on the secret?"
"I'm just that good, baby," he told you cheekily.
"Bradley Bradshaw." You warned lowly.
"It's flight paths."
"What?"
"I use the flight paths I have memorized," his fingers danced in a looping motion doubling back and then tracing forward again.
"They make it easy to loop, but it's long enough that there is different pacing, or I use the piano," He told you, letting his fingers tap and shift along your back as if it was a set of ivories suddenly. It had made you giggle.
"That might have been one of the sexiest things you have ever told me, Bradley." You had told him before you kissed him silly. And letting him showcase those skills with his tongue for the second time that night.
Now, Brad's hand that is lying against your stomach also starts to follow a pattern. You open your mouth, but Bradley quickly cuts you off.
"Please, don't say sorry."
"But I am."
"That was a bad attack."
It was true that you hadn't had one that severe in a while. "I'm—"
"Do not say sorry," he repeats. You sigh heavily and move to stop leaning against Bradley. However, he doesn't let you. The hand on your hip and lower abdomen fighting you and drawing you flush against him. He settles you, so you are comfortably leaning against his chest again.
"I am sorry," Brad finally says, almost a whisper in your ear.
"You are sorry?"
"Yes."
"Why?" You question him. Not sure you understand what he is apologizing for.
"Why are you going to leave me?" Brad asks instead of answering your question.
You sigh and close your eyes. You lean your head back, so it's settled on Bradley's shoulder. Then take a deep calming breath before responding. "I know you don't want kids. You have always been very honest about that, and it's not your fault I'm pregnant.
"Well, I don't think you went and got pregnant by yourself. It's kind of a process that takes two contributing parties. Unless you are going to tell me that it's someone else's." Bradley says the words so incredulously that you know he has no doubt the baby is his.
"I know you don't want this, but I realized I do."
"What if I do want this?"
"I'm not going to let you do this just because you feel obligated, Bradley," you tell him tiredly.
"No. I want this."
"How could that be?" You ask.
You feel him shift behind you, and you open your eyes to see what he is doing. Bradley is reaching to the bedside table where you see a huge binder sitting.
It is a binder that you know well. Bradley is a meticulous and organized person. He likes to refer to this binder as your Life Plan Binder. It was full of timelines, dates, references, and lists. Everything Bradley feels is necessary for y'all's life.
You realize that this one is different from the one that lives on his desk. It is slimmer, and the front doesn't have a picture of the two of you slotted in the cover that the other did.
"The LPB?" You ask him, confused.
His left hand makes itself at home again on your lower abdomen, while his right hand puts the binder on your lap. Finally, you read the cover where it says alternative plans in bold lettering.
"I'm sorry I left earlier, but I needed to get this." He mutters into your ear. Brad's tone is deeply apologetic. He flips the binder open, and there are labeled tabs. You fully realize this is a binder you have never seen before. You scan the tabs and freeze up in Bradley's hold when you see the one he is thumbing to.
It is towards the back, behind the different tabs, including restations, health, new cars, vacations, and retirement, is a tab that has a simple label. It's blue and just says, baby. Bradley flips to the tab, and you see the cover page of the section with the table of contents. In bold at the top of the page, you read Baby Bradshaw.
A sob that ends up coming out as a broken laugh ripping from your chest. The section contents was filled out with thoroughly thought out plans on you having children, from a section with important timelines, appointments to schedule, college savings plans, and a section with boys' and girls' names that he likes.
You bring one of your hands up to stifle the sobs that are bubbling in your chest. You hold your hand close over your mouth to try to hold back the sound. His fingers traced over the page and the table of contents for the section.
"What is this?" You finally ask him.
"It's my alternate life plan binder. For you know, if other things come up."
"Why do you have a Baby Bradshaw section?" You hesitantly ask. His hand is still warm against your stomach, and he flexes his fingers.
"Well, a while ago, I started thinking about kids," he trails off, and you start looking through the table of contents again. You see that the most robust and largest section is actually related to adoption. You feel your heart melt in your chest. A new bright feeling of hope blossoms looking at the care, time, and thought he has put into this. As he continues, "and well… You know how I am. I wanted to be prepared for that possibility."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"I've been ruminating, and I don't know. Maybe I would have mentioned it at our next check-in. But I knew you don't…" Bradley doesn't finish his sentence, and you lose your mind a little bit.
You pull the large binger up into your hands and shift. You struggle and move until you turn in his grip. Your legs wrapped around Brad's waist. You want to see his face, which is easier in this position. The hand that had been placed on your stomach curls around your back and waist, steadying you against him.
"You changed your mind?" You ask him. You let your hands trace over his chest, settling on cupping his face. Then, staring into his eyes, you look for any trace of anger or deceit.
"You seem to also have changed your mind, baby," he takes the binder from where it was awkwardly pressed in between you two. It allows you to settle closer to him. Bradley sets the binder to the side, momentarily breaking eye contact to make sure none of the pages are creased. Your chests were almost flush together. You wrap your arms around his neck, and then he is the one to hold your face. His eyes reconnect with yours, and you once again feel like you are caught in them.
The intensity and openness in his gaze make your lips move faster than your brain to lay out the whole truth for him. "I don't think that I ever wanted to not have kids. I had just accepted it because I knew that I couldn't." You explain, not breaking eye contact. Bradley's thumb traces a slow circle against your cheek.
"I would never let you do this by yourself."
"I can't just throw a wrench like this in your life, Brad."
He immediately starts shaking his head in protest. "It's our life. I'm not going to lie to you and say that you didn't hurt my feelings. If you left me," Bradly heaves a heavy shaky breath. You briefly wonder if he is going to cry again. Then he continues to explain, "I would be broken… shattered. I feel even worse that you didn't want to talk to me or tell me."
You can tell how deeply you hurt him. Even though you knew what you were going to do was wrong, now that you and Bradley are talking about it. You know you need to try and explain your rationale no matter how messed up it was.
"At first, I wasn't sure how I felt. I wanted to talk to you, but I couldn't do that before I knew how I felt. But then I kept thinking about all the times we talked about you not wanting kids. How you had so many good, valid reasons for feeling that way. I know you, Bradley. I knew that you would do the right thing as soon as I told you. But you don't need obligation ruling anymore of your life that it already does."
"So what if I was obligated? I agreed to be obligated to you for the rest of our lives when we got married. I want to be bound to you. I want to shoulder your burdens, just like you shoulder mine," Bradley says.
"A child is a lifelong burden for you to shoulder," you say. You need to know, need to be fully sure Brad understands.
"Do you think so low of me? Do you think I wouldn't love something that was a mix of you and me?"
"There are plenty of people in the world who don't love their children." You tell him, swallowing hard.
He lets out a long sigh, his breath fanning a bit over your face. "I want this baby. I want this baby with you. I want to be at every doctor's appointment. I want to know everything I've missed. I want family vacations where I can buy a Hawaiian shirt in three different sizes for all of us. I want little league games. I want a baby to sing to sleep. I want someone to put on top of the piano and sing to like my dad did. I want us to paint a nursery. I want Disney trips. I want to fight about curfew. I want to make breakfast on Saturdays and spend Sundays in the shop with football, restoring a beat-up first car. I want to make dad jokes. Fuck, I need to buy a pair of new balances."
Warmth fills you at his words. You let out a small laugh picturing Bradley as a stereotypical dad. How he wants all of that with you. That you won't do this alone like you have mentally been preparing yourself for since finding out. You run your fingers up and down his neck trailing it down his shoulder as far as you can reach before tracing back to his neck. A content sigh falls from his lips, and his eyes close, enjoying your gentle caresses.
"What are some of the names?" You break the silence after his confessions.
"I like Westley," he says with a small boyish smile. You bite back a grin at the name, playfully rolling your eyes.
"Oh, and is Buttercup on your list for girl names?" You ask him teasingly.
"Maybe," he says. You lean forward and peck his lips.
"You're not going to leave me," Bradley whispers with conviction. You know he is still coming down from the emotional roller coaster you just went through together. You also know Brad is going to need time to fully process this conversation and the change about to happen in your lives. However, you also know, without a doubt, that Bradley will be holding your hand at your next doctor's appointment.
"No, I'm not." You confirm and brush your lips over his softly.
"Stay with me forever," Bradley begs you in a voice a little too small for you to handle.
You hold the hazel gaze for a very, very long moment. You let him examine you, see the truth, and honestly bleeding in your gaze before you respond. What you want to say at first is: I love you. However, those words weren't quite right; they didn't seem to fully capture your intention and the emotion in your chest you felt for this man. So instead, you settle on the words you think will most closely allow him to understand. You brush your lips against him again, whispering your answer into them.
"As you wish, Bradley."
#bradley bradshaw x reader#rooster x reader#rooster x you#rooster smut#bradley bradshaw x y/n#hot 🥵#Coleys writing#bradley bradshaw fanfiction
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HARRY X Y/N X PEDRO INSTAGRAM BLURB!
*a love triangle*
MASTERLIST & PATREON
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Y/N AND PEDRO PASCAL ARE REPORTEDLY SPLITTING AFTER SEVEN YEARS OF MARRIAGE
It was revealed this weekend that Y/N Pascal, 30, was planning on divorcing husband Pedro Pascal, 47. No one knows exactly why since the two had looked very happy together. The couple originally met back in 2011 at an Oscars event. Pedro reveals in an interview once he had found out Y/N was a hairstylist he immediately hired her to be his.
“I had no money in my pocket and I had hired this amazing woman to do my hair.” - Pedro Pascal in Wired’s Autocomplete Interview with Oscar Isaac.
Both of them share two sons together, Jude, 1 and Elias, 5. The two had Elias right after they got married in 2016 in Pedro’s home country, Chile.
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pascalupdates Y/N and Pedro are reportedly taking a break! We wish them the best and hope they get back together soon. 💕
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pedrofan24 LOVE ISN’T REAL
pedrofan29 crying and throwing up
pedrofan22 i seriously can’t do this anymore 😭
pedrofan31 what the hell…they were so in love with each other
pedrofan25 not our mother and father 💔
pedrofan33 screaming into my pillow
pedrofan36 i’m never believing in love anymore
pedrofan30 PEDRO PASCAL IN HIS SINGLE ERA?
pedrofan23 it’s going to be a hot girl summer for him
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pascalispunk Me and my wife have decided to take a break from each other. We will be co-parenting our two boys, making sure their needs come before us. Please give us our space during this time.
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yourinstagram ❤️.
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harryflorals HARRY AND Y/N PASCAL IN AUSTRALIA RECENTLY!
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harryfan42 this is my joker
harryfan46 TWO TICKETS FOR BARBIE PLEASE
harryfan49 y/n is winning…first pedro pascal and then harry styles
harryfan41 she’s still married to pedro btw 🙏
harryfan47 well this was not on my bingo card
harryfan44 PEDRO I AM COMING FOR YOU
harryfan48 i just want to be her.
harryfan50 harry and y/n…i like the sound of it
harryfan53 NOBODY BETTER SEND Y/N ANY HATE OR I WILL GET YOU
harryfan56 @yourinstagram teach me your ways fr
yourinstagram via stories
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dailystyles Harry, Y/N Pascal, and friends out in Tokyo a few nights ago!
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harryfan58 someone kill me
harryfan55 THIS NEEDED TO HAPPEN TO THE WORLD
harryfan57 #teampedropascal
harryfan61 my heart can’t handle y/n and pedro both being seen with other people…
harryfan59 PEDRO AND Y/N ARE SOULMATES 💔💔
harryfan62 manifesting y/n and pedro again
harryfan64 LET THEM LIVE THEIR LIVES HOW THEY WANT TO
harryfan60 crying and throwing up
harryfan65 i am jumping off a cliff btw!
harryfan63 Y/N FANS RISE
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ynpedroupdates PEDRO LAUGHING WHILE TELLING A STORY ABOUT Y/N AND THEIR SONS ON THE GRAHAM NORTON SHOW!
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pedrofan70 i cried the entire interview
harryfan73 YOU CAN TOTALLY TELL HE’S STILL IN LOVE WITH HER 😭
pedrofan69 harry who???
harryfan72 i just fell on my knees in a walmart parking lot
pedrofan74 i need a man like him…
harryfan76 HARRY IS DONE FOR AFTER THIS
pedrofan71 pedro is such a family man 🤞
harryfan75 when will it be my turn
pedrofan77 THIS IS ALL I WANT
harryfan79 god really has his favorites
pedrofan78 currently screaming
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pascaldaily PEDRO AND Y/N WERE OUT IN LA TODAY WITH THEIR SONS!
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pascalfan84 THIS IS SO CUTE
harryfan88 someone run me over please
pascalfan81 i love my favorite dilf 🤗
harryfan83 sooo harry and y/n aren’t together then…
pascalfan85 y/n and pedro are working on getting back together so she’s probably done with harry… i think…
harryfan89 the pascal family is thriving!
pascalfan86 ngl pedro and y/n were meant to be together so…
harryfan87 @harrystyles
pascalfan93 you’re so 😭
harryfan91 THE CUTEST FAMILY
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yourinstagram surrounded by love!
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pascalfan90 I MANIFESTED THIS
harryfan92 why is this seriously the best instagram post ever
pascalispunk I love you mama ❤️
yourinstagram i love you more mr. mandalorian
pascalfan94 I’M NEVER RECOVERING
harryfan97 i am sorry harry but…this is so cute omggg
luxpascal my cuties!!!
pascalfan93 y/n and pedro are still in love…you can clearly see… 😭
bellaramsey You and Pedro are my parents.
yourinstagram couldn’t have asked for more 💕
harryfan99 harry liking this is so?!?!?!
liked by yourinstagram, luxpascal and 5,127,408 others
pascalispunk Elias and Y/N, the loves of my life ❤️
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pascalfan91 pedro really is the best father ever…i’m sobbing
harryfan95 MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER
yourinstagram i appreciate you so much darling
pascalispunk You complete meeee.
pascalfan98 GOING CRAZY OVER THEM 🧎♀️
harryfan96 y/n seriously needs to teach us her ways.
ana_d_armas the cutest humans on earth
pascalfan100 i need someone to be obsessed with me the way pedro is obsessed with y/n…
florencepugh forever loving the pascal family!
harryfan104 y/n is living out our fantasies one by one 😭
nicoparker SO ADORABLEEE 💕
harryflorals via instagram stories
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tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @eiffelmezarry @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @agustdpeach @hannahnikohl @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @seguin-styles1996 @futuristicpalacegardenpsychic @youusunshineyoutemptress @kaitieskidmore1 @cherryfragrancx @ssuziess @milkiane @golden-hoax @flwrmuse @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cashtons-wife @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @lomlolivia @b-reads-things
#harry styles x reader#harry styles#harry styles au#pedro pascal#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles writing#harry styles fake social media#harry styles fake instagram#harry styles fake ig#harry styles fan fic
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ᡣ𐭩 His least favourite colour (Michael Afton x fem!reader)
Summary: Teenage Michael has a messy mullet that he cut himself and a piercing on his lower lip that he did the hell knows where. But he's dressed like a rock star: a black leather jacket and ripped jeans, a million chains, only a guitar is missing, and you already know what his birthday present will be.
tags: angst, hurt/comfort, romantic elements, Michael is flirty and weird, 1980s, abusive William, daddy issues, mentions of death, psychology, little bit of fluff, traumatized Michael, Michael has a mullet
Michael is the first kid in the Afton family. Michael grew up surrounded by the love of his mother, but never of his father. Since he was born, William has shown no affection for him. And little boy never understood why, if he seemed to have everything William wanted. After all, he was very interested in mechanics and robotics, he always begged his father to show him how he creates these wonders of technology. But William, being a disgusting father, never did this, refused to do it. When Elizabeth was born, Michael was initially happy that he had a sister. The young man always took care of her and played with her until he noticed that his father behaved way differently with her than with him.
And it caused him heartache. He watched them and didn't understand why he didn't deserve the same. And his mother, as it seemed to him, cared about the little girl more than about him. That's what offended Michael the most: he felt as if his mother had replaced him with Elizabeth, all the toys were bought just for her, all her whims were fulfilled in one second, she was never even punished. Is that even fair?
That's when his youthful maximalism manifested itself. Michael started running away from home and skipping classes. And he knew perfectly well that William didn't like it, and he was doing it to spite him, trying to get revenge for horrible treatment.
But it only made it worse for Michael, because he was always caught and punished, or worse, his most beloved game console was taken away. William began to apply more and more punishments to him, taking away pocket money or grounding him for the whole weekend. But most of all, Michael never understood his mother: why did she let all this happen? Why did she always turn a blind eye to what her husband was doing?
“Does your father know that you smoke?” you ask, giving him a light. Michael puts his hands in his pockets and shakes his head. You're both not dating, but you're pretty close to it. You met at some rock concert where some random guy was trying to molest you, and Michael punched him right in the face, breaking his nose. It was in front of everyone's eyes, and after that, Michael was finally noticed by a group of "cool" teenagers. You didn't like them because they were nothing more than bullies, but Michael never listened to you.
“Does your mom know who you're so pretty for?”
“You fool.” you smile and roll your eyes. Michael may be a fool, but he always manages to embarrass you with his stupid flirts.
Teenage Michael has a messy mullet that he cut himself and a piercing on his lower lip that he did the hell knows where. But he's dressed like a rock star: a black leather jacket and ripped jeans, a million chains, only a guitar is missing, and you already know what his birthday present will be.
…
Michael got used to Elizabeth because you putted into his head that it wasn't her fault, and she's just a kid like himself. It's the fault of his parents, who don't know how to give equal love to both, the fault of his idiotic dad, who thinks he can raise his son by beating him. Michael agreed with you, and the two of you never talked about it again.
“Did you get into a fight again?” you're like a mom to him and at the same time already a girlfriend. “What kind of kindergarten is this?”
“It wasn't me, they started it.” Michael's kindergarten will probably never leave him. “What? I'm telling the truth!”
He's sitting in your kitchen eating hot soup like he's been starving for ages. You know that's not true, but his diet is really terrible, all those snacks and sodas, why is it so hard to eat normal food? And Michael told you why. Because his father went so far as not to allow his son to have lunch or breakfast with family. William only allowed his wife and Elizabeth to sit at the same table with him, but as soon as he sees Michael, he points to the door, like, "get the hell out of here." And when Michael later comes to the kitchen to eat, William pours all the remaining food into the toilet in front of him.
…
Michael's eyes are so wide and huge after the news that his mother is pregnant with another, third child. He doesn't know how to react, in panic he runs to your house and tells you about it. You didn't understand much yourself, but you tried to assure him that maybe this third child would be a turning point. Maybe after he's born, William will change. But you don't believe yourself.
How sad that you were wrong. Evan gets more attention than even Elizabeth, but however she doesn't mind. Unlike Michael, she runs around the baby all day, trying to entertain him. Evan likes his sister's company, but when Michael arrives, something clicks in the little boy's head, and he becomes quiet, not talkative, as if Michael scares him. But in fact, Evan is more afraid of his brother and William's argues than Michael himself. And when these turn into fights, Evan becomes hysterical and runs to hide in the closet of his room. William is well aware that Michael started showing his fangs a long time ago, but when he says something to him in an aggressive tone or slams the door too loudly, the man can't help himself.
“Michael, don't you dare bully Evan.” you're mad at your boyfriend because he came to you with his proud face again as he made his little brother cry again. “God, how many times have I explained to you, this is a kid. You're only ruining his psyche!”
Michael just clenches his teeth and his fists. He's as angry as you are, of course he knew you wouldn't pat him on the head for it, but why are you protecting this pathetic boy?
Michael hates his father, he is angry that he cannot respond to his reproaches and provocations like a "real man", so he takes out all his aggression on Evan. Michael is a coward.
…
Michael cries, punches the walls and swears at himself. He couldn't forgive his father for killing his sister, but what Michael never thought about was that it would happen to Evan, too. With fucking Evan. Who could have even known that Fredbear’s jaw would shut?! Michael couldn't move as he watched the little child's head being torn apart. He heard that hideous, ugly sound of a skull splitting, which still haunts him in nightmares.
In his nightmares, he runs to save Evan, to pull him out of the animatronic's grip, but he can't do anything. He fails because his father holds his hand tightly enough that Michael feels a phantom touch when he wakes up. William holds his wrist and laughs, preventing him from saving his brother, while Evan dies for the hundredth time. This is repeated every night.
Michael is no longer a rock star. Michael is depressed and needs psychological help.
Michael cut off his idiotic mullet and threw out all his leather jackets with ripped jeans, took off his piercings. But at least now Michael has the guitar you gave him for his birthday. That one is now lying dusty in the corner of his room, where Michael never goes. He just stopped showing up at his father's house, yes, not at his house, but at his father's house. Because this was never Michael's house.
Michael still smiles only at you and tries to make stupid flirts, but they don't bother you anymore. Instead, they are disturbing, worrying you.
Michael has lost everyone except you.
“When I die, I'm sure you'll be my devil in hell. Know why? Because you're hella hot, baby.“ Michael makes a sound like laughter.
You're trying to put on your face something like a smile.
Michael is so young, and he's already joking about death. But Michael wouldn't joke about death if he wasn't already dead.
Michael died in 1983. He died after his sister and brother.
“You're going to marry me, right? When we get out of here and move to another state.” There's uncertainty in his voice.
“Of course.” you don't believe him, of course not. “I love you very much.” you hold him close to you, stroke his hair and try your best to hope that everything will be fine.
…
Michael loves to kiss you, hug you, cuddle, rub his nose against yours, lying in your bed. Michael's body is still warm, that means he's still alive. Michael still has a headache, he can still bleed, he can still catch a cold, he still has an appetite. Michael is still alive, and that's all that matters to you.
Michael prefers not to tell where his mother disappeared, he just says that she divorced William immediately after Elizabeth's death. Yes, she divorced William and left her own son with this monster, Michael still thinks it's impossible. He's just scared to think differently, he's afraid, so he makes it up to make it easier.
“You're going to love me even if I’ll smell like a piece of shit, right?“ Michael is weird. He asks you about it almost every day, even though he never smells bad.
“Michael, my love,” you know you have to be kind to him, no matter what idiotic questions he asks. You really love him very much, but sometimes these questions take you by surprise. “even if you turn into a living walking corpse, I’ll still love you.”
Michael chuckles, his nightmares telling otherwise.
…
Michael has grown up, now he works as a night guard. He hates his job, but he can't tell you why he's working there. He just makes excuses by saying that he gets paid a lot of money.
It's Michael's stupid habit of keeping everything inside. You know that's not the reason, you know there's something wrong with your boyfriend, but as soon as he comes home early in the morning, exhausted, you don't dare ask him anything.
Michael hates purple colour.
Sometimes you feel like you're distancing from each other because he disappears all night at work and then sleeps at home all day. But you still love him very much and hope that one day you will both get married. But Michael begs you, in case of a wedding, not to wear a purple dress. Any colour, but not purple.
You're starting to worry about Michael's physical health. Michael refuses to eat and kiss. Michael wears more oversized clothes, even though it's damn hot outside. Michael says he's going to sleep in the other room on the couch. One night you try to check if Michael is really asleep.
No, he's not.
Michael hides his face from you and doesn't go out much. Michael doesn't shower, he doesn't even wash his hands.
All of this scares you, you don't understand what happened to your boyfriend. These sudden changes happened too quickly. You try to talk to him, but Michael's voice sounds strange. He doesn't even turn his head when he talks to you.
The smell in the house is becoming more and more terrible, almost unbearable. You've already thrown out all the garbage, done the general cleaning, even poisoned non-existent insects.
You can't take it anymore, so you're trying to clear it up. When Michael comes home, you're already standing in the hallway waiting for him. Your boyfriend is surprised, he hides his face in a mask and tries to sneak into another room.
“Darling, stop avoiding me, please!” you try approach him, hug him. Michael pulls away. You notice that the smell comes from him, not from the house. “What's been going on with you lately?”
Michael is tired of living like this, avoiding you. He wants to feel your touch again, wants to kiss you, wants to go back to bed with you, wants to cook with you, wants to dream with you about your future wedding. Which will never happen.
“Promise me you won't run away.” his voice is scary, sounds like a robotic one. You nod. And that's when Michael finally takes off these damn clothes, takes off his… wig, sunglasses and mask. He opens his soul to you again, if he still has it, of course.
You don't really know how to comment on what's in front of you. It's Michael, but at the same time it's not him. It's a skeleton covered in skin. He has no teeth, there’s terrifying white pupils burn in his empty eye sockets.
“I can't believe it's you... what... what even happened?” you're surprised you can say anything at all after such a shock.
He's not answering. His dead white pupils pierce into yours, alive ones. Michael does hates purple and how cruelly life has treated him, painting his skin this cadaverous color.
“I smell like a piece of shit, right?” Michael tries to smile, even though he doesn't have to try. His jaw was permanently frozen in a deadly grin. “Y/n… You remember what you told me, right?”
You nod. “Even if you turn into a living walking corpse, I’ll still love you.” you remember and dont give up your words.
“I still love you, Michael.” as sad as it may sound, but it’s truth, you really love Michael and you can't imagine life without him. “I… I promise I will never leave you.”
Michael sighs with relief. You finally want to hug him, but he pulls away again and waves his hand as a sign that he smells like a corpse. You don't care, you've been through too much in the last few days, and now you just want to feel his body next to you again, even if it's fucking smelly and cold. You pull him closer and try not to breathe. You get a shock from yourself because you're hugging a literally dead person. But there is only one thing…
Michael didn’t die right now, he died back in 1983.
#michael afton smut#fnaf x reader#fnaf x y/n#michael afton x you#michael afton x reader#michael afton#michael afton fnaf#michael afton x female reader#fnaf smut#michael Afton imagines#michael schmidt x reader#fnaf x you#fnaf movie#fnaf#fnaf headcanons
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ZHONG CHENLE : BOYFRIEND FOR THE WEEKEND
Genre:🔞, minors dni, slight fake dating, best friend to lovers plot, nothing too crazy really
Word Count: 5182
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You heard a ring come from your laptop and immediately answered the call, knowing better than to keep chenle waiting for too long.
"Hey , what are you up to?"his voice sounded a little raspy , he must've just woken up.
"Getting packed for the holidays, my parents are dying to see me"you told him, you and chenle grew up together. You lived just across the street from each other, went to the same schools and hung around the same people.
He'd always been someone you could count on and he'd say the same for you but then college came around, you both became too busy for each other but he never forgot about you.
Always calling you every chance he could and you did the same, including him in your plans.
"Are you going home for the holidays this year ? "You asked and continued to walk around your room, chenle hums and nods.
" Yeah . My mum's pressing me about bringing someone home."He said and you gasped, turning your head towards the laptop.
" Mine too! Like we're just going to manifest dates in a month"You told him with an eye roll and then you saw a familiar look on his face.
" Wait ... what's that look?"You asked him and he scoffs.
"What look?"he asked as if he had no clue of what you were referring to.
"The look you always get when you're plotting"you told him , was he really that readable? He'd thought to himself.
If he asked , you would've told him he was pathetically readable or you just knew him too well.
Or both.
It was definitely both.
"I don't have a look"he brushed it off , hoping you'd let it go but he should've known better. You were as stubborn as they come.
"I can see the wheels turning in your head"you told him and he narrows his eyes at you but you knew better, chenle couldn't threaten you even if he tried.
"Stop looking at me"he huffed and you folded your arms and gave him a look, an unimpressed look.
"Then tell me what you're thinking"you told him and he sighs.
"Fine!, Okay I have a plan"he said and you raised your eyebrows, surprised it actually worked. You underestimated just how much of a hold you had on him.
"Is it something that's going to get us in trouble?"you asked him and he rolled his eyes at you with a scoff, now giving you his own look of disappointment.
"At this point you should know the answer to that"he said and your shoulders slumped.
" Yeah that's what I was afraid of"you mumbled and he chuckles, thinking of how cute could you possibly get.
"Do you wanna hear the plan or not?"he asked with as much sass as he could muster up at the moment.
"I'm listening"
Weeks go by and finally holiday season was in motion, some people were going home to see family and others were plotting something mischievous while everyone was away.
You're pretty sure you heard a guy named haechan talking about pranking some kids from the stray frat house.
"I cannot wait to see you , it's been forever. Talking on the phone isn't the same"Your best friend gushes excitedly over the phone and you agreed, you missed him lots.
"Hey , for Christmas , do you want to share a hotel room? I'm not staying at my parents house again , not doing it . "He tells you as you both prepared to get on the plane to head to your destination, you both would meet up at the station and catch a ride with your parents back to the house.
"You know what , yeah . That's actually a great idea and we can split the cost , why didn't we think about this before?"You exclaimed, slapping the palm of your hand against your forehead and wincing at the pain you just caused yourself.
"Hey! No injuries before we get there"he scolds you playfully and you rolled your eyes, unfortunately it was time for you to board the plane now so you had to say goodbye.
--------
"Chenle!"you sprinted across the airport before dropping your things and nearly jumping on him, hugging him tightly and he laughs as he drops his own things to hug you back just as tight.
"I didn't think you missed me so much."he said and you smiled before pulling away , punching his arm and watching him wince dramatically.
"Are you kidding? It wasn't the same without you. I don't have anyone else to force to binge watch vampire diaries with, you know..."you told him and he rolls his eyes, picking up his things before pointing across the station to the parking lot where both of your mothers were waving frantically.
"Let's go and get settled in , then we can catch up later"you immediately agreed and looked at him.
"Last one to reach our moms sits in the trunk with the luggage"you both immediately start to run to your parents.
You lost.
--------
"No dates again huh?"it was later that day after getting settled again when you entered the kitchen as your mother was just finishing up dinner.
"What?"the statement caught you off guard and she sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear and she turned to you.
"Sweetie you're in your prime right now and I didn't wanna say anything but I think it's time to explore"she said and your eyebrows furrowed.
"Oh dear God , mom please"you begged and rubbed your temples.
"I'm just saying, experience everything life has to offer"she said and folded her arms , you just looked at her with a blank expression.
"You mean sex"you deadpanned and she groans softly.
"Yes"she finally tells the truth.
"Oh my god, you're unbelievable"you shake your head and she huffs, you knew she was just trying to get you out of the house.
"At this point I'm questioning if you're a lesbian and you just haven't come out yet"She keeps going and if your jaw could drop to the floor it would be on the floor by now.
"What are you guys talking about?"your dad comes into the kitchen and you turn to him.
"Mom thinks I'm a lesbian"you tell him and he looks at his wife.
"Woah"he said and your mother doesn't look too pleased with you.
"You're still a virgin"she accused you, even though she was absolutely right.
"How would you know?!"you exclaimed.
"A mother knows"she tells you but by the time you could tell her off chenle shows up and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side.
"Actually, we're dating"he said and your head snaps in his direction.
"What?!"you, your mother and your father said in unison.
"Chenle , help me set the table"you tell him sweetly and he looks at you, with a look of fear.
"But-"you grab his arm and nearly drag him out of the kitchen.
"The table!"
"What are you doing?"you asked him once you get away from your parents.
"Helping you out, you remember my plan"he said and you groaned softly, that godforsaken plan.
"You said for Christmas"you tell him and he rolls his eyes.
"Well it looked like you needed help, you're welcome"he said and you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.
"I know and thank you for helping me out but what now? we've been best friends since diapers, no one is going to believe this."you told him and he smiles at you, coming over to drape his arm over your shoulders.
"Everyone is going to believe this."he said and you looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows, he knew something you didn't.
"What are you talking about?"you asked him and he pulls away to grab the table cloth from behind you.
"Our parents have been secretly shipping us for the past 10 years"He said and your jaw dropped for the second time that night.
"You're joking"you tell him and he scoffed, looking at you as he set the table while you stand there and watch him.
"I wish, now help me set this table"he said and you rolled your eyes, so many questions running through your mind.
---------
"do you think we should practice kissing? Is that....I don't know how this works"you sit on your bed and put your head in your hands, the sound of his voice calls for your attention.
"I mean sure...just promise me one thing."he said and you bit the sleeve of your hoodie.
" what's that?"you asked and he smirks.
" don't fall in love with me."and you grab a nearby pillow, using it to wack him and he laughs.
Neither of you aware of your mothers spying on you outside the door, having come over to the door upon hearing your laughs.
"Oh as if"you scoff and roll your eyes , he takes the pillow from you and grabs you by the neck to pull you into a kiss.
Successfully catching you off guard and tossing the pillow on the floor, you cup his face in shock and close your eyes as you kiss him back.
"We have company"he whispers into the kiss and you pull him into a kiss again, he leaves one last peck on your lips and pulls away.
"I'll go see if the food is ready"he announced and you both heard them scattering back down the stairs to finish the food.
"Just a bunch of peeping tom's"chenle chuckles and you look over at the photo of you and him on your bedside table, your parents must've put that there.
"They just want what's best for us, I think it's sweet"you told him and smiled, he smiles at you fondly.
"Of course you do, you're too innocent for this world"he plops down on your bed and rests his head on your lap, your fingers instantly massaging his scalp.
"I'm not as innocent as you think"you tell him and he lifts himself up off your lap, raising his eyebrows at you.
"What's that supposed to mean?"he asked you and you giggled.
"Nothing!"you say and skip out of the room, rushing downstairs to sit at the table.
"Yah! Get back here and explain"he chases after you.
--------
The dinner table was unusually quiet which was rare for both of your families , your mind kept drifting back to the kiss.
You had no idea your best friend knew how to kiss like that , you had to play it off of course and you hoped he didn't notice.
"so when did this start?"your father asked , finally speaking up and you looked over at chenle.
"about 3 months ago"he replied smoothly, running his hand up and down your thigh to soothe you because he knew you were panicking.
"Why didn't you tell us, we would've understood?" Your mother speaks softly now, holding onto your fathers arm as she gushes.
"Its still pretty new and we were just trying to see where things could go before we told anyone" chenle really put on a show for both of your parents as his fingers massage your scalp , something only he knew calmed you down and you started to see him in a different light.
"As long as you're both happy"you smiled and looked over at chenle, he smiled as well.
"We are"you both said and dinner went on as usual, the liveliness returning and you sat there in your thoughts once again as you watched the people you loved dearly.
Dinner lasted for two hours before everyone started to pack up and say goodnight, you pulled chenle to the kitchen to speak privately and he let's you.
"I just wanted to thank you for tonight"you start off by saying as you fold your arms and he nods.
"You just looked so miserable and helpless, I had to save you"you rolled your eyes at that with a laugh , which made him laugh.
"You're so right, I don't know how I would've survived without you"you shake your head in disbelief and he catches you off guard when he places a hand on your cheek, stroking your soft skin.
"I'll see you tomorrow"he said and you nodded, tucking your hair behind your ear.
"Yeah of cou-"you gasp against his lips as he pulls you into another kiss and places your hands around his neck before his move to your hips, you kissed back and grabbed a fistful of his hair.
It felt too real, this was a bad idea. You pulled back as you pant lightly and look up at him.
"Was someone watching?" You asked confused and he shrugged.
"Yeah, sure" you weren't convinced but didn't stop him from kissing you again, grip tightening on your waist and your fingers running through his hair.
"No sex in the kitchen!"your mothers shrill voice made you and him jump apart, you covered your face in embarrassment.
"Goodnight, y/n"you lifted your head to wave chenle a goodnight.
-------
That night you couldn't sleep and you tried your hardest really but your best friends lips wouldn't leave your mind, they felt so soft and the way he took control of the kiss.
The way he took care of you during dinner and the way he guided you in the kitchen, you couldn't be catching feelings for the guy who literally thinks not showering saves water and helps the planet.
This is the same guy who pulled your pig tails for shits and giggles, the same guy that farted under your shared blanket and told you " if you want to live , don't lift the blanket"
What the hell was your heart doing? What kind of short circuit , malfunction was this?
Unbeknownst to you he was in the same predicament , not being able to sleep because you wouldn't leave his mind and he sort of wished he'd pulled your pig tails harder when you were younger as if that would change how he felt when he didn't even know what he felt.
Was it infatuation, lust, or something deeper? It didn't matter because he found himself getting dressed and texting your phone.
He told you to come outside because he couldn't sleep and you found yourself doing so anyway despite your protests.
"Finally"he sighed and crossed the street to you, if anyone asked he'd say he wasn't in control of his body when he cupped your face and kissed your lips for the third time that night.
You kissed him back and grabbed the hands that cupped your face, this kiss was a lot different than the others. It was almost a frenzy, like he needed you and you were the only cure but time was running out.
He pulled away and buried his face in your neck with the both of you panting, holding onto each other tightly as if you'd slip away.
"chenle-"he cuts you off, pressing his forehead against your own and you breathe in his scent that's so uniquely him.
"I can't get you out of my head, its driving me crazy"he whispered even though you two were the only ones outside.
"neither can I"you agreed and you swear you saw a sparkle in his eyes, both of you just as hooked on each other.
"I wanna kiss you but not here"you grab his shirt in your hands and pull him closer, gulping down a whine that threatened to leave your lips.
"why not?" you ask and he smirks, thumb brushing across your bottom lip.
"you want me that bad?"he asked and you stepped back only to be pulled back against his chest a second later.
"not funny"you frown and he kisses your forehead , the simple gesture making you swoon more over this new side of chenle that no one had seen before but he just laughs at you.
"let's get out of here"he pulls out his car keys and grabs your hand, pulling you over to his new car.
"and go where?"you asked him and unlocks the car with just a click of a button, still talking as he does so.
"I'll get us a hotel room, don't want anyone else walking in on us"he explains and you freeze, stopping your strides and he immediately senses something off with you.
"what is it?"he asked turning to you and you just looked at the ground,stumbling over your words and trying to find a way to tell him this was your first time without saying too much.
"i- , I just-"chenle is so amazing at reading you that he completely understood, taking your hand in his and stroking your knuckles with his thumb.
That was something only you knew he did whenever he tried to comfort you, he was generally a very attentive guy and he could read you easily.
"we don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with" he assures you but that only made you want to kiss him more, but he dodges your lips and makes you kiss his cheek instead with a smirk on his face.
"I'm serious"he tells you and you nod, you just wanted his lips on yours again and you grabbed two fist fulls of his shirt before pulling him against you hard, you don't pay any mind to your back hitting the car and only cared about the lips pressing against your own.
You hum in content and his hands grab your waist, tightening their grip before pulling away opening the door to the backseat and guiding you inside, locking the door after before his lips are back on yours and situating himself between your legs as he ruts against your clothed cunt covered by a thin layer of leggings.
"Chenle , you don't have a boner right now"you whispered and as you went to slip your hand between your bodies, he groans at your hand cupping his definite boner.
"Oh my god"you whisper but he pulls back, from the kiss, pressing his forehead against your own.
"We can just make out for a bit and then leave"you shake your head and lock your legs around his waist, cupping his face to kiss his lips and deepen the kiss.
"y/n"he tries to speak but you deepen the kiss again, pressing his hips down against your core and bucking up against him.
"need you here , lele"you whine and he gulps, shaking his head to clear his mind.
"I want you to be comfortable, your first time shouldn't be in the back of my car"he said and you drag your nails up the skin of his back, underneath his shirt as you successfully send a wave of shivers down his spine and he groans.
"please"you beg, all sense of pride leaving out the window the moment your lips are together, kissing his mouth like a starved animal and you move as you switch places with him to straddle his lap.
His hands on your hips and yours on his shoulders as he scoots back up against the other car door , locking the car before tossing the keys on the floor and you don't hesitate to kiss his neck as his hands move to your waist.
You take off your jacket and toss it onto the floor, his hands immediately slip under your shirt to touch your warm skin and you shriek at his cold fingers pulling back.
"Your hands are freezing"he does nothing but laugh and you lean over the front seat to turn on the heat , his hands slip under your shirt again but this time his fingers brush against your nipples and your body jerks at the sudden cold touch.
"no bra? what did we say about walking around outside in the winter without a bra?"he starts to scold you all the while his fingers roll your nipples between them and your back arches, gripping his shoulders tightly and shaking your head.
"chenle"you gasp and roll your hips down against him , he groans softly and grips your hips before bringing his lips to your nipple for the first time.
"Fuck"you gasp and tangle your fingers in his hair as you continue to grind on his crotch, his lips lick and suck your nipple as you hold him close and lean your head back.
Fuck, his tongue felt amazing.
"lele, I need you now"you whine as your hips rut against him and he has to force your hips to stop as he pulls off of your nipple.
"not yet , I still need to taste you"you bite your bottom lip and move to lay down on the other side of the car as chenle moves between your legs, his hands pull off your pants and underwear before blowing air on your clit.
"chenle" you smack his head as a reflex and he laughs before he let's his saliva drip down from his mouth and onto your anxiously awaiting pussy, using his index finger to spread it around before throwing your legs over his shoulder.
Your heart is beating fast and he hasn't even done anything quite yet, just using his finger to explore all you had to offer and looking up at your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.
You bite your bottom lip harder and arch your back the second his tongue meets your flesh , hands pulling you closer to suck your clit into his mouth and you moan as you tangle your fingers in his hair.
"this is the longest you've ever been quiet"he laughs and you flick him off to which he sucks your clit harder, his head shaking as he sticks his tongue out and you cry out at the pleasure.
"Fuck-"he lifts your leg and rests your heel on the back of the drivers seat and licks at your entrance before he looks up at you , pulling back to stick his finger in his mouth and sucks on it , gathering some of his saliva before he's prodding at your entrance.
"I'm gonna add a finger now to open you up" he explains and intertwines your fingers with his unoccupied hand , you let out a whimper as he pushes his finger inside slowly and shushes you , kissing your fingers.
"fuck , have you never touched yourself before?" he asked , surprised at your tightness and you shake your head and look away embarrassed.
"Give me your hand" he tells you and you look at him for a moment before giving him your hand, he takes his finger out of your hole and takes your middle finger and his own, sticking them both in his mouth and sucking them as he lathers them up with his tongue.
"Chenle-"you had never seen someone do something like that and he amazes you more as he uses both of your fingers to push inside of your sopping wet entrance.
"fuck, you're so-"the car felt hot and it wasn't because of the heat, you never thought chenle was hiding this the entire time and here you were thinking he was a virgin like you.
" I feel weird"you pant and he licks your clit before sucking the flesh into his mouth, sucking softly and you run your fingers through your hair as you squirm underneath him.
"don't run, let it go" he said as he speeds his thrusts up and your body starts to tremble, your moans get louder until you start to call out his name as your mind goes blank and your hips started to buck against both of your fingers.
His lips return back to your pussy as he continues to lap at your clit and sucks on your folds, your hips bucking against his mouth as you try to grab anything that was closest to you and he hums as you grip onto his hair tightly.
"Chenle"you buck your hips faster as he only intensifies your orgasm and water starts to leak out of you, his tongue slurping it all up and you have to push his head away to get him to stop.
"oh fuck, sorry babe, you just tasted so good"he said and you whimper as you pull on his shirt, pulling him into another kiss and you push him back.
"I wanna make you feel good too" you tell him and he shakes his head, trying to sit up but you're already pulling down his joggers.
"This is about you, not me"he tries again gripping your hands but you still yank down his underwear and lick from the base of his length to the tip, swirling your tongue around it before sucking on his tip.
"Fuck, w-where did you learn that?" he asked and you smiled at him , moving down a bit to lick and suck on his balls as you stroke his length.
"porn"you shrug and he throws his head back, leaning back against the door and closing his eyes.
"I wanna learn how to deep throat , lele"your voice catches him off guard and you giggle at the look on his face.
"take it in your mouth"he starts and you do as you're told, taking him in your mouth and sucking the tip once again as you feel him twitch in your mouth and you hum.
"Keep doing that and I'll cum"he warns you and you nodded, his fingers tangle in your hair and he holds your head still as he thrusts into your mouth.
You hum and he accidentally bucks too deep into your mouth causing you to gag but he pulls back immediately.
"Fuck- maybe this isn't a good idea"he pulls sits his hips back down but you follow him and take him back in your mouth.
"Y/n-" you follow the movements he did earlier and slowly bobb your head along his shaft, he sighs and combs your hair back into a makeshift ponytail.
"fuck, you're good to me, you know. really good."he whispered as he guides your mouth along his cock and pushing you lower to have you take more of him into your mouth, trying your best to resist the urge to gag around him so you hum instead and he moans for the first time as he moves his hand faster.
You suck faster and harder, moaning at the feeling of his dick sliding against your tongue at such a pace and his hips buck up into your mouth slightly , you gag around his length and he groans again as he grips your hair tightly and pulls your head back.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum, that's enough"he pants once you let go and listen this time around, watching as he strokes his wet cock slowly and you straddle his waist now.
"I heard this is the best position for my first time" you tell him and bite your bottom lip but he doesnt answer and kisses you deeply, lifting your hips and dragging his tip through your folds before prodding at your entrance.
He grabs the back of your neck just like earlier that day and you take a leap of faith and lower yourself a little bit , a whimper leaves your mouth and he pulls you into a kiss.
"Move at your own pace" he whispers against your lips and let's you know to take your time, you deepen the kiss and wrap your arms around his neck as you slowly roll your hips to help get used to the size.
As you get comfortable with the first half you drop yourself down to take the rest of his length completely and he holds you against his chest as your body shakes at the intrusion, gasps and soft pants leaving you as you squeeze your eyes shut.
Chenle takes good care of you and plays music from his phone, hands also rub your back and kisses are littered on your temple ever so often.
"never thought I'd see the day that you would force yourself to take all of me, you must like me that bad" you roll your eyes and pull back with a scoff.
"Why do you always have to ruin the mood?"and just like that, it was as if today never happened and you sat there bickering as if you both weren't just sucking each other off not even five minutes prior.
"I insisted we wait to have sex but you couldn't wait, you're so obsessed with me at this-" a groan leaves his lips as you rolled your hips to test the waters, chenle had just reminded you of your goal and you wouldn't admit it to him but he felt amazing inside of you.
"what was that?"you asked with a smirk and roll your hips again, his head hits the window and his nails dig into your skin.
"oh, you play dirty" he comments and you only lift your hips before sinking back down on him, hands on your hips and guiding your movements faster, your hands grip his shoulder and you start to move at your own pace.
"fuck- y/n" Chenle groans and grabs two handfuls of your breasts, a whimper leaving your lips and you place your hand over his own at the immense pleasure coursing through your body.
"chenle-" you start to bounce on his cock as best as you could in the small space, your lips connecting again and his hips lifting to meet your pace.
"you feel so amazing"he groans into the kiss and you pull away to moan against his lips, his hands helping you bounce on his cock faster.
"oh fuck-" you cry out and bury your face in his neck , his hands spread your cheeks and his pace increases as your cunt tightens around him constantly.
"are you gonna cum?" he asked and you nodded, his hand grips your hair and brings you back to his lips.
"Cum for me, princess"you moan at the sudden pet name and bounce faster, chasing your orgasm and cum with a loud moan of his name.
"fuck, I'm Cumming" he pants, sweat trickling down his back and neck as he cums inside of you before collapsing onto the seat, holding you close against his chest.
"fuck, my mom is gonna kill me" he sighs and you looked up at him , eyebrows raised.
"why?"you asked genuinely curious.
"I didn't take you on a date first"he said and you snorted at that, rolling your eyes.
"is this your way of asking me on a date?"you asked , seeing right through him.
"you were gonna say yes anyway"he retorts and rolls his eyes.
"oh , shut up, I'm revoking your sex privileges"he just laughs at you because you both know you were definitely having sex again, most likely within the next 24 hours.
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Is it too early to drop a request for the prompt? This is my first *ever* request, so I don't know how this actually works.
Mine is #8 and #15 with Az.
It's a personal one that is close to my heart. I'd love that kind of energy in my life, and maybe a good fic will help manifest that for me. 😉
I love your work, and I appreciate the effort you put into what you do! Thank you so much.
A/N - Aww this is great! This might be more of a somber piece, but I think it's great! Let me know what you think! I hope you like it!
Grief
Summary - Azriel knows a thing or two about grief, and he vows to never leave you in it.
Warnings - mostly angst with a hint of fluff in the end :)
The cool air was hitting you along your backside as you were kneeling in front of the small patch of new grass, the clouds above were giving off a shield over your head while you were holding a fresh bouquet of flowers in your hand. The meadow was cleared out, which is rare for a weekend since it would be filled to the brim with Velaris citizens to enjoy the weather. But that day everyone was in town, shopping for winter solstice that was right around the corner. You would have been joining them if you could, but not that day.
Not on the anniversary of your mother’s birthday.
Her grave was tucked away at a secluded piece of land, owned by Rhysand and used just for his family. It was a gift he wished to bestow on you when your mother passed away, making sure it was always well-kept and maintained. Being the ever-loving cousin that he was, he never wished for you to stress over the gravesite or the funeral, but you did. She was the one woman who raised you since you were an infant on her own, not leaning on others for help and making sure you could survive in the world on your own. You did, all thanks to her, and her sudden death at the hands of King Hybern and his invasion into Velaris devastated you to your core.
You were a wreck, but your mate stayed at your side.
Even now as you were placing the fresh flowers from Elaine’s personal garden on the grave, you knew he was standing not too far away and giving you the space you needed to both grieve and breathe. You sensed him, you always have since you two met as teenagers and then became mates 300 years ago. He knew how to show he was close by without saying a single word, which made you grateful for him as you took in a long breath and looked at the small slab of marble that was in the ground. Placing the flowers on top of the grave, you hummed.
“All is well here, Mother,” You replied, your voice softly floating in the air as the grass was swaying in the wind, “There’s peace again here in Velaris as we get ready for Winter Solstice. It was your favorite holiday, as was mine. It still is, and you should see the house and how we decorated it, plenty of garland and holly from head to toe. I think Elaine went a bit overboard this year, but I can’t say no to her,”
You chuckled wetly, a few tears were hitting your cheeks as you felt a small sliver of a shadow licking against your arm. You hummed, knowing who It was as the shadow swirled around your fingers, a silent request to join you. You nodded once, the shadows flicking away then the soft sound of boots in the grass coming your way from behind.
“We all miss you, Mother,” You continued, the footsteps stopping right behind you as you wiped some tears away briskly, “It’s not the same without you here. I know I miss you the most, I miss your laugh in the morning during coffee, I miss you telling Rhysand and Cassian to stop bickering with one another like they did when they were kids, and I miss hugging you. Your embraces were always home to me, and I’ve been missing them so,”
A scarred yet gentle hand was placed on your shoulder then, the faintest of pressure along there as you sighed and more tears fell.
“Azriel and I have been well. Your shop is running so well, Mother. You should see it, we’re almost sold out every day which helps in remodeling our home that you wanted us to have,” Once again you paused, clutching your fingers together a bit more as you were trying to find the right words in what you wanted to say. Wounds still felt fresh under your skin, past memories of the first year without your mother were flooding back to you and how hard those nights were. Not having her guidance or words of wisdom, not having her times of counsel when you were at a crossroads.
He knew of your mother and admired her for not only raising you on her own but also being a support for him, Cassian, and Rhsyand as you were all growing up together. He spoke to her about courting you, then later asking for your hand in marriage. His respect for her was massive, to which your mother loved him all the more and approved instantly.
“I know you will love my daughter and treat her as your equal, Azriel.”
“I swear to you, I will,”
Azriel was the backbone you needed to get through that dark time, holding you every night when you were in tears, always sitting at your side when you were lost in thought, during his love to you every chance he could. Azriel knew the guilt you carried in not protecting your mother during the attack in the town square, finding you hunched over her body and screaming into the void as no life was evident in her. That whole day was etched in tragedy and in pain. Hearing his voice brought you peace during those rougher nights.
“Why do you always think you have to do everything on your own?” Azriel asked against your head as you were snuggled against him in bed one summer night, his fingers raking through your hair and your legs intertwined, “I vowed to carry your burdens in dire times, sweetheart. You gotta let me,”
“I can’t,” You mourned into his shirt as he kissed your cheeks and shook his head.
“You can. I can no longer stomach seeing you got through this on your own. Grieving alone will kill you, baby. I won’t let you do that to yourself, you hear me?” He asked, you looking up at him and seeing his own eyes glistening a bit with tears. Tears from seeing you in pain, tears from not knowing how else to ease your pain and sorrow, and tears from simply thinking you were slipping away from him. You were grateful for him, the stubborn Illryian that he was to simply not let you out of his sight. You knew he also knew pain from his childhood and how true a mother’s love was.
You gave him the softest smile, and for the first time in a long time, you felt your mating bond hum and flutter in simple love and affection. It was safe to say your love for one another was simple and yet intense, mixed together in years of friendship and mutual respect.
“I can’t lose you either,” He stated to you as you held him a bit tighter, “I’ll do whatever it takes to bring that light in your eyes again, the same light I fell in love with when we were young. But losing you is not an option, not with me. I won’t survive in this world without you by my side,” He traced a few tears away with his scarred thumb, “I hate seeing you like this. Please..let me help.”
So you let him in, and you felt your heart preparing itself slowly but surely.
Azriel knelt down next to you, a bundle nestled in his arm showing an infant baby sound asleep and tucked away in a warm cotton blanket. You grinned at the sight, reaching over to tuck the blanket in a bit more under the chin of your babe, who cooed and snuggled into Azriel some more as the dark thick hair contrasted with the light yellow blanket. Looking from the babe to Azriel, you saw him smile with a hint of love and pride in those hazel eyes, then finally looking back at the grave in front of you.
“I want you to meet someone, Mother. This is your granddaughter,” You said softly, your voice no longer having pain but a sense of hope, “She was born in the summer, on the hottest day of the year actually. Madja said she was born a week early, and almost didn’t make it through the night since she was too tiny. But I knew, mother. I knew she was a strong babe and she would bring us joy, and she has. Her laugh reminds me of bells, she has her father’s eyes and my freckles, but I think she has your smile. I wish you could have held her, she’s so soft and little but I knew she’s fierce,”
“Like her mother,” Azriel hummed next to you, having you grin again. Your daughter was a shock for both you and Azriel, you both heard the news that you were with child and beyond happy. There were talks of you two wanting to have a family, but nothing too serious. Perhaps it was perfecting timing then, a new life coming into your little world that was still repairing itself and being made new. Azriel saw a growing seed inside of you as you were moving along in your pregnancy, a new sense of hope that sprouted from the notion of being a mother and having your own baby to love and care for.
The rest of the Inner Circle was excited for the babe, Nesta throwing a baby shower for you when you were 7 months along, High Lady Feyre painting your nursery from top to bottom with stars and hillsides, and even Rhysand gifting you both with handmade furniture to put in the nursery. Azriel requested Cassian and Elaine to be the godparents, and you knew that your child was going to have the best family to grow up with and to lean on.
For that, you were thankful. The same family that vowed to support you will now support your baby.
You and Azriel walked away from the grave and along the worn path in the meadow, you holding your daughter close in your arms as she was sleeping soundly without a care in the world. Azriel had a hand along your lower back both as a sense of peace and a sense of familiar protection. Every time you came to this place, you had moments of grief and sadness that came in small flickers of waves. But it wasn’t all bad now. Not with the life you had with your mate, with the Inner Circle, and now with your daughter.
Your daughter, who was named after her grandmother: Adeline Rose
The End
Hurt and Comfort Promp Session
#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x oc#acotar fic#acotar fanfiction#acotar#a court of wings and ruin#a court of silver flames#a court of mist and fury#a court of thorns and roses#fanfiction#writing#acotar imagine#Ariel x female reader#azriel angst#azriel spymaster
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The Lost Sister - Part 19
Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.
Garrick Tavis x OC
A/N: Hope you are ready to see our girl get angry at our boys. Garrick really needs to think before doing things sometimes. Being observant sometimes always doesn't pay off.
The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist
That night I don’t see Xaden, Bodhi or Garrick. I had looked everywhere and come up short. I had even asked Mealladh if their dragons were there. When she came back with she couldn’t find their dragons I knew they were off doing something. But what? The last few days had been a blur. Violet and I had nearly been assassinated. Amber was now dead because of it. I had manifested my signet. And Jeremiah…. Jeremiah had gotten his and died. Jeremiah who had read some of Garrick’s mind. Who I had sworn was about to say Aretia before Xaden cut him off with his shadows. Why had Garrick been thinking about home? Yes my thoughts occasionally went back to there. But his thoughts had been panicked. Worried he would find out about something to do with Aretia. I was sure of it. That night my dreams took me home. To Aretia.
I wake to the sun shining through my window. I groan as I shield my eyes. I had left the curtain open like an idiot. Today was a very rare weekend day first years had off. And my dumbass had left my curtains open on the one day I could sleep in. Though it was still a small win, I had gotten to sleep in longer than I normally would. As my eyes adjust I notice the small package on my bedside table and a note attached to it. Someone had been in my room while I slept. Someone had gotten past my so called bodyguard. I sit up and carefully grab the note has my heart rate picks up. But as I see the handwriting it settles. It was Garrick’s.
’Sorry I wasn’t around last night. Hope this makes it up to you. - Garrick.’
I can’t help but smile at the note. We hadn’t gotten as much time together since we’d had our talk and celebration. Both of us busy. But I knew today I would have to find him and get what time I could. I had to talk to him and Xaden about my signet and the Jeremiah thing. I had to get answers. I was still yet to tell any professors about my signet. And I couldn’t delay it for much longer. I needed to start taking Professor Carr’s class. I needed to understand my signet and learn how to control it. Though so far I seemed to have pretty good control over it.
You have amazing control over it. You should be proud. Mealladh says to me.
I just feel like it has come so easy. Too easy. I reply.
I told you I picked you for a reason. You are perfect for this signet. This is only the beginning. But you do have incredible control over it already. I am proud of you. I can feel through the bond every word she speaks is true.
She throws her shield up leaving me alone again. She must be out hunting or something. I had felt her slight hunger through the bond as we spoke. I turn back to the package from Garrick and pull it into my lap. I pull on the string he used to wrap the brown paper around it. Inside is a box. When I open the lid a huge smile breaks over my face. Inside is one of my favourite treats from back home. It wasn’t something we could easily get back home either. It was something the Gryphon Riders would trade with us only a few times a year. My eyes go wide. Wait. Only those from Poromiel knew how to make this. They’d never taught us. Only Gryphon riders brought this to us. Garrick wouldn’t know how to make this. It’s as if my mind pieces it all together. The multiple nights they have been missing. Jeremiah reading Garrick’s mind and almost saying what I swear was Aretia. And now the food that sat in the box in my lap/ I throw my sheets off me as I quickly remove my sleep attire and pull on my uniform. I grab the box before running from my room. I push past Liam who tries to stop me till he see’s the box in my hands. I swear he goes slightly pale at the sight. But I don’t have time to ask him anything. I rush to the dining hall. Garrick or Xaden nowhere to be seen. I go to the gym next. Not there. I go to head to the flight field when I see Bodhi walk out from the dinning hall. I rush over to him. He smiles as I rush over.
”Where are they?” I demand, cutting him off as he goes to say hello.
His eyebrow furrows and then he looks down to my hands and see’s the box. I watch as his skin turns pale like he’s seen a ghost. He looks back up at me as he swallows nervously. He knows I’ve put it together.
”Ophelia I-”
”Take me to them. Now.” I cut him off angrily.
Bodhi merely nods before leading me into the academic building. Towards the tower Xaden and I had found to get away from the quadrant. I can sense how nervous and scared Bodhi is. His weakness right now is the truth they’ve been hiding from me. The truth that is about to come out. And he is scared. Our steps echo off the tower walls as we ascend the stairs. My heart thuds with each step I take. What the hell was I going to say? What the hell did I want to say? They’d lied to me. Hidden something important from me. As we ascend the last few steps I push past Bodhi and throw the door open. Garrick and Xaden turn to me, shocked at my sudden appearance as Bodhi slowly joins us.
“Is everything-”
I throw the box at Garrick, cutting his sentence short. Xaden goes pale as his eyes narrow and glare at Garrick.
”Want to explain how you got that?” I hiss at the men in front of me. “And don’t you dare say you made it. Because I know you didn’t.”
They all stare at me with guilt all over their faces. Except Xaden who looks like he might actually want to kill Garrick right now.
”You’re right. I didn’t make it. You know where I got it.” Garrick says in the most monotone voice I’ve ever heard from him as he looks me in the eyes.
I narrow my eyes at him. “I want to hear you say it.” I demand.
He gulps nervously and nods slowly. “Gryphon Riders.”
I turn to Xaden. “That’s why you panicked when Jeremiah locked onto Garrick’s mind. He was going to say Aretia before you cut him off. Wasn’t he?”
He begrudgingly tears his gaze from Garrick. “Yes. We had been talking about it before he burst into the courtyard.”
”And why were you talking about Aretia? Our home? Cause last time I checked it was gone.”
I was smart enough to piece together the puzzle in front of me. But I wanted to hear it from them. I needed to hear it from them. There was a reason Xaden had seemed so similar to our father recently. But I needed to hear it from the three people I held closest to me. The only family I had left.
Garrick and Xaden look at each other and they both nod, Garrick sighing in defeat as he prepares to tell me. He steps forward and holds the box out to me. I stare at it for a moment before I take it back angrily.
”Because we’ve been smuggling weapons to them. To help them. To protect them. To build an alliance with them. We’ve been doing it as soon as we were able to get away from the quadrant without raising suspicion.” He tells me quietly, as if he’s scared I will run off.
I can feel Garrick’s presence and I reach out. I can practically hear his rapid heartbeat beat through whatever connection I can make with this signet. He’s scared as hell. Everything him and Xaden have worked towards is out in the open. I also feel the worry of him losing me over this. He’s nervous at how angry I am. Damn right he should be.
”You’re building an alliance for another rebellion aren’t you?” I ask after silence falls over us.
Xaden stares at me intently as if trying to read my thoughts. His brow furrows in confusion before he nods. “Yes.”
I shake my head before walking back and forth in front of them. They hadn’t lied to me per say, but had kept something big from me. Something they all knew I would want to be in on. Aretia was my home. And we had all believed in my father’s course of action. Because it was the right thing to do.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why did you keep me in the dark?” I finally ask as I lean up against the railing over looking the quadrant.
“I just wanted to protect-“
I whip around to face Xaden who had stepped forward to talk to me. “To protect me? Gods, I don’t know how many times since I have been here that I have proven I don’t need protecting anymore! I am not that little girl you said goodbye to that day in Aretia!” I yell at him as Bodhi and Garrick look at us in shock, Garrick stepping back to stand near Bodhi.
“You’re my sister. A sister I thought died all those years ago. I will not lose you again!” Xaden fumes as he storms over to me.
“But you didn’t. I spent five years with him. Spent five years fighting for my life every single day. One wrong move and he would have ended me and we both know that. Five years I played the part he wanted me to play. The small naïve Riorson daughter who didn’t know better at the time. I fought every single day to make sure I could come back to you all. So don’t you dare say to me I need fucking protecting Xaden. Because I have proven I can look after myself. I have proven I don’t need any of you to do it for me. Because I did it for myself for five years.”
Garrick and Bodhi stand behind Xaden frozen in place as we stand toe to toe. Xaden and I had never raised a voice at each other. Yes we would butt heads and say some colourful words at each other. But this was a first. Bodhi and Garrick looked torn at pulling us apart or coming to defend the girl they use to know. I was not letting them push me around and coddle me like the young girl I was. I had proven I could defend myself.
“I don’t need your bodyguard. I don’t need you to have the other marked ones keep eyes on me like I’m some fragile little girl. She died the day she left Aretia.”
“Yes she did die. She literally did for all of us five years ago. We all thought you were dead. I cannot go through that again. I won’t go through that again.” He almost pleads to me as he goes to put his hands on my shoulders. “Just let us watch-“
“No!” I yell as power surges through me.
All of a sudden we are not standing in the tower anymore over looking the quadrant and the valley surrounding. We’re standing in the courtyard of Aretia. Except it’s were not. Its not real. There’s a sheen to it as if it’s a figment of our imagination. All four of us staring at our surroundings in awe. Xaden is the first to snap out of it as he turns back to me, his eyes wide with shock. I had somehow managed to feed on our collective weakness right now. Our home. Our home was our weakness and we would all fight for it. Like we were right now. I had somehow projected it for us all to see.
“How…. How did you do that?” Xaden asks as I look back at him.
“I-I don’t know. It just kind of happened.” I say as I look around in shock.
The image of Aretia slowly fades away, putting us back in the tower. Back in the quadrant. As it does so I can feel the presence in my head that I had tugged at. Xaden. I had pulled at his presence. But I hadn’t fully felt it when I did. As if my mind had reached out with out me willing it during my out burst at Xaden.
“You need to keep that part to yourself. If the professors find out you can do that…. They might see you as innistic.” He says sternly.
I slowly nod my head. He was right. Even though we were yet to tell the Professors I had manifested my signet, revealing I could cast projections like that would definitely have them questioning me. As Xaden had always said, I had an uncanny ability to see peoples strengths and weaknesses. And now it seemed I could project on that. Make them see it. Something the higher ups would want to either cut out or use for themselves. And I’m sure Melgren would find a way to keep me for himself if he found out. Seems I could do a lot more than just will things to move with my mind.
Behind him Bodhi and Garrick are staring at me shocked. They had seen me throw someone against a wall and float things towards me. But being able to get in someone’s head and project something like that was something neither of them had expected.
“Now can you please let me in on this. Let me fight for our home again. Let me help.” I plead to Xaden. “You know my signet can help. I can help. I want to fight for my home.”
He sighs before shaking his head. Torn at if to let me help, or keep trying to protect me. “You need to get it under control first. But you are right as much as it pains me to say.”
“Xaden.” Garrick goes to start before Xaden raises a hand silencing him.
Garrick’s lips tighten into a thin line as he holds back the words he wants to say.
“I can’t let you on the supply runs. It’s too risky with a first year. Too hard to explain. Especially if Melgren is keeping an eye on you. But I can tell you what is going on. Next year I can give you more. I’ll need someone to help Bodhi here when Garrick and I have graduated.”
I can tell the words are hard for him to say. But he knows I can help. Even if it’s just being in on what’s happening, it’s better than being left in the dark. Eventually my signet could be a big help. Meaning I would need to focus as much time as I could into mastering it and strengthening it. I let out the breath I didn’t realise I was holding as my anger starts to dull.
“And no more bodyguard.” I add as I look between Garrick and Xaden. “I’ve proven I am just as good as Liam.”
Xaden goes to object as Garrick steps forward and places a hand on his shoulder. “She’s right Xaden. She doesn’t need one. She has proven she can defend herself as much as I hate to say iot. She’s not the girl we use to know. And if you ever get worried she can stay in my room. I’ll look after her.”
Xaden looks between the two of us. Clearly he’s not overly impressed about the idea of Garrick and I sharing a room even though he is happy we finally sorted our shit out. But eventually he slowly nods. Garrick would pretty much always be with me minus some classes, where I would be with Liam anyway. Meaning outside of classes Liam would only have to keep his focus on Violet.
“Fine. But I swear to gods you two better put up silencing wards. I do not want to hear anything.”
Part 20
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National Anthem (gr63, ds)
↳ A/N The wonderful T-Anon (my og followers know!) introduced me into the world of Formula 1 and, of course, now I'm obsessed. What else is there to do but write something [sinfully] self-serving that incorporates both of my faves? I'm nervous to post this because last time I posted a multi-fandom fic, I got mega anon hate so I'm hoping this goes over well... 🙃
↳ Summary: As VIP guests of Scuderia Ferrari - thanks to Daniel’s best friend as one of their elite Formula 1 drivers - you have the privilege of travelling to Monte Carlo for the Monaco Grand Prix. While on this getaway, you and Daniel decide to lean into the grandeur status of the Monaco Circuit and celebrate the weekend in a way you normally wouldn’t back at home - and that comes in the form of a luxury yacht party and a handsome Mercedes driver who seemed to capture your eye from your first day in the paddock
↳ Pairings: Daniel Seavey x Reader, George Russell x Reader (NO use of y/n)
↳ Word Count: 41.0k
↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, mmf threesome, one night stand, voyeurism, use of explicit language, oral (f & m receiving), overstimulation, minor choking and spitting, some derogatory names (slut etc.), unprotected sex (whoops), no Carlos in this (so sorry, but I had to give Daniel a familiar friend in this universe), & heavy manifesting of a Leclerc Monaco Win™
In the comfortable warmth of the Mediterranean sun, you nursed your icy drink in hand to the roaring sound of racing engines speeding along the streets of Monaco. It was a place you had never expected to be, with a VIP lanyard around your neck donning the Scuderia Ferrari logo against vibrant red, sipping on cocktails and grazing on expensive dishes as you overlooked the Saturday Qualifying races for the 81st Monaco Grand Prix. The open air rooftop of the Paddock Club overlooked turn eighteen of the circuit and kept the ambiance of the elite in high spirits with lively music and an open bar, the view of the harbour and the lush mountainous city of Monte Carlo in the near distance.
Not much of a Formula 1 enthusiast yourself, you felt a bit like a fraud being so present and doted upon by the staff of the Paddock Club while you were surrounded by genuine VIPs from public figures and star-studded personnel alike. It wasn’t unfamiliar to you to be in the vicinity of the odd celebrity as your boyfriend’s career in the Los Angeles music industry scene allowed for some interactions in passing with those whom he worked with. But at least in those instances, you held at least somewhat of an understanding of what was going on. Here, watching twenty race cars weaving through tight curves and narrow streets at unbridled speeds, you were out of your element.
Said boyfriend - your own personal ray of sunshine with eyes that could arguably put the Mediterranean blue skies to shame - was finishing off his third margarita in the span of just over an hour-and-a-half since you had arrived at the rooftop. Donning an official Scuderia Ferrari t-shirt that clung to him in all the right places, he made focusing on the final qualifying race going on below incredibly difficult for you. If it was one thing you had going for you was the fact that you knew Daniel much more confidently than you knew the ins and outs of Formula 1. Despite your shameless glances at him at your side, you didn’t dare to interrupt his focus since he was completely enthralled by the race. His wide blue eyes darted across each passing car down below as he sipped the remainder of his drink, on high alert for the individual whom you owed your little VIP vacation to.
“Ah!” Daniel suddenly yelped excitedly, pointing a finger over the railing to the red racing car donning the number 25 that zipped around the corner directly in front of you and then tore up the short straight before disappearing around another bend to complete his lap. “There he goes!”
Since meeting in grade school, Daniel and Corbyn had been best friends for almost as long as they could remember. Even with Corbyn traveling back and forth between Europe and the States during his karting days as a boy and, later, as he navigated the senior categories paving his way to his dream of F1, the two of them never drifted. In fact, Daniel was the only one of Corbyn’s friends from home who stayed loyal and true through all those years, always his biggest support system outside of his immediate family, and the first one he called to share the news that he was moving to Monaco at only twenty-one. That being said, of course it was only fair that Corbyn hosted his dearest friend at some of his races whenever he could and there was no better weekend than the infamous Monaco Grand Prix.
With Corbyn living in Europe and almost always traveling the world with his lavish career as a driver for Scuderia Ferrari, you had only met him a handful of times in person when he would come to visit Daniel in Los Angeles once or twice a year. He had such a busy schedule, in fact, that even though the two of you were invited as guests of his that weekend, you still had yet to meet up with the young man who was arguably your host. Regardless, you decided to look at that weekend as a romantic vacation for two, an all expenses paid trip to one of the most luxurious countries on the globe as VIPs for a world-renowned organization.
“That’s so cool.” Daniel beamed, tearing his eyes away from the track to look at you instead before he shared the news as if it were new information, “That’s my best friend! Isn’t he awesome?”
His obvious love for his closest friend mirrored that of brothers and you couldn’t help but smile at his transparent pride, answering him honestly, “He’s incredible.”
Your agreement only had Daniel soaring and he shimmied his shoulders in a little dance as he drained the rest of his drink up his straw. Taking the glass from him as a few nearby patrons glanced over at the obnoxious slurping, you set it on the bar-height table nearby and then rested your hand on his arm.
“And, baby,” you started softly, only interrupted by Daniel’s soft ‘mhm’ in acknowledgement as he stared at you and awaited your comment, “you look so incredible.”
Daniel leaned in smoothly to kiss your lips once, twice, and before you could raise your hand up to the side of his neck for a third, he was tearing away from you at the incoming roar of the shiny red car and he pumped his fist in the air with a whoop as number 25 zoomed past again.
The final qualifying session finished at 5:00 and, promptly, you and Daniel left the festivities on the rooftop for your next destination of the evening. You still had some time to kill before your scheduled meeting time with Corbyn but Daniel was not willing to risk being late - even if he played it off like he wasn’t worried. So, sufficiently buzzed on expensive drinks from that afternoon’s excitement, you navigated your way towards the adjacent F1 paddocks hand in hand.
Another perk of those classy lanyards you were supplied with meant that you had access to a lot of the behind the scenes areas where the public wasn’t allowed. Standing at the turnstiles under the F1 branded archway, you each scanned your pass and with a display of your name and host’s name on the screen, you were able to step through. Once inside the paddock, Daniel’s hand naturally fell into yours like you were regulars and you began your slow walk along the pavement that was packed with bustling team members and media crew alike.
For as far as you could see - or so it felt like - was branded Formula 1 team equipment and technical apparatus. Down the straight alley, the right side was lined with impressive towering motorhomes for each of the teams. The motorhomes as well-designed structures acted as a way to showcase the luxury and pride of the team’s brand while also proving to be some sort of unspoken architectural competition of who could put together the most impressive hub. Most towering at three-storeys high, they each had a sense of uniqueness to them that captured your attention from the first glance; Mercedes’ clean lines and all black exterior had their silver larger-than-life logo glittering in the late afternoon sun while Haas’ curves and vibrant white coddled their modest one-storey in something easily inspired by the mechanics of racing.
Across from each of the motorhomes, across the main straight of the paddock, were the teams’ trucks and containers in which they housed and carted their equipment, necessities, and, of course, their cars. It all looked a bit overwhelming but, at the same time, neatly organized. In an industry that was always on the move, it was an absolute necessity to keep everything in order whenever possible. Team members in branded polos and official uniforms bustled back and forth between motorhomes and equipment containers, zig zagging across the spacious paved straight with a task to do. Qualifying might have been over for the public but there never seemed to be a lull in the behind the scenes work.
You and Daniel walked all the way to the end of the paddock where the Haas team was set up before looping back around to head back the way you came. You tried your best not to get in anyone’s way but there was so much happening and so many people coming and going that a few times you ended up having to let go of Daniel’s hand for a team member or two to barrel right between you. The media presence seemed to pick up as more of the drivers returned from their garages, all the journalists eagerly thrusting microphones at them to try and get their thoughts on their performances during qualifying. You only recognized maybe one or two from Corbyn’s instagram feed when the odd friend would be tagged in one of his weekend photo-dumps but you definitely didn’t have anyone memorized by name or enough to feel starstruck. Daniel, who grew up alongside one of these drivers and who worked in an industry that was just as star-studded for different reasons, didn't bat an eyelash either.
The red and silver three-storey building of Ferrari’s motorhome was second from the entrance to the paddock and there was where you were scheduled to meet Corbyn when he finished with his responsibilities. Similarly to some of the other designs along the paddock, Ferrari’s architecture mirrored that of the style that one would find in mechanic’s garages but with a touch of luxury that seemed to be ever present in the world of Formula 1. The potted topiary trees outside the tinted front windows were a nice, homey touch, and as you and Daniel fell to a stop to wait, you reached out your free hand to touch the greenery.
“It’s real.” you said softly to him.
“It looks too green to be real.” Daniel doubted you as he touched the leaves himself. “Holy shit, it is real. How do they keep it that…alive?”
“Rich Italian Ferrari water.” you suggested playfully.
Daniel chuckled lightly, “Sparkling water, even.”
From behind you, two hands rested heavily on one of your shoulders each and, startling as if you were about to be scolded for touching the shrubbery, Corbyn quickly eased your momentary anxieties with a smooth, “Nah, we actually feed them gasoline just like the cars.”
Ignoring his joke for the priority of their long awaited reunion, Daniel spun around to greet his best friend with an enthusiastic call of his name and a slap of their palms together and they yanked each other into a tight hug. You took a small step back to give them their moment, smiling affectionately at the scene as they embraced and swayed in place in a quarter circle. Corbyn was still wearing his red Ferrari race suit that was half unzipped and bunched around his waist, leaving him in only his fireproofs beneath, finished with a matching branded red Ferrari cap which he used to attempt to tame his messy brown hair. Just behind him, almost hidden by the two six-foot-tall best friends, was a young woman with a professional camera hung around her neck with the utmost care. She, too, was watching the reunion with fondness before sparing you a split second glance.
Pulling away from their hug, Daniel and Corbyn shared their secret handshake they had coined as teenagers and Daniel praised him as they did, “Great job out there today!”
Corbyn kept his wide grin on his face and set his hands on his hips with a modest shrug, “Not really, but thanks.”
“What are you talking about? P4 is really good!” Daniel protested.
“Not on a circuit where overtaking is virtually impossible but I won’t bore you with the technicalities.” Corbyn chuckled before then turning to you with an arm outstretched, greeting you by name with a quick hug and a, “So glad you could make it.”
“Of course!” you gushed, “Thank you so much for inviting us out here.”
“Don’t mention it. We’d never say no to having some more cheerleaders on deck.” Corbyn teased with a friendly slap to Daniel’s bicep. Before Daniel could offer any rebuttal, Corbyn was turning to the young woman whom he had approached with and he introduced you both by name before offering her introduction to you, “Guys, this is Tabitha: my girlfriend as well as the best photographer on the grid.”
“Co-workers to lovers, I see, I see.” you teased before directing to the young woman across from you, “Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” she offered politely.
“Hardly co-workers to lovers when we were both silently pining after each other since our very first day here.” Corbyn nudged her playfully, “Right?”
Her little eye roll was balanced with a bashful smile, “Yeah, yeah. Took us long enough and whatever else.”
“How cute.” you swooned.
Daniel directed his half-joking question to her next, “You keeping an eye on my best friend here? Keeping him out of trouble?”
“Oh my gosh, she’s hardly his security guard.” you smacked his arm. “I’m sure she’s got her own trouble to keep out of - especially around all these crazy men in this place.”
The two of you women shared small smiles that went over the heads of your boyfriends but she replied to your defence with a wave of her hand, “You’d actually be surprised how often I sometimes have to play mediator. Little boys, most of them.”
“Not me.” Corbyn scoffed with a cheeky smile and tossed his arm around her shoulders to pull her into his side, “I’m the easiest.”
“Yeah, okay.” she chuckled.
“So you’ve been working here, like, what? Five years now?” you asked her.
Tabitha nodded, “Sounds about right. Although I’ve pretty much breathed F1 all my life.”
“Oh, wow.” you gaped. “So this position was a dream for you?”
“Definitely.”
“I love that.” you smiled fondly at the confession of achieved dreams, offering some more information on yourself to your newly acquainted, “I just got into it recently because I didn’t want to look like a complete dunce when we came here. Other than the knowledge Daniel knows from Corbyn, I’ve been filling in the gaps by watching the Netflix show.”
The flicker of an amused smirk grazed Tabitha’s face but you didn’t quite catch it as you glanced at Daniel with a proud smile of your own. The Formula 1 docu-series produced by Netflix followed each season of the prior few years in the racing industry, giving an inside glimpse into the life of the drivers and their teams alike. To you, as an outsider, it was perfectly fascinating, but to the inside few who had to deal with the constant live filming, camera crews getting in the way, and presumptuous questions from the film industry, it was less than ideal in most situations.
Therefore, Corbyn replied to your statement with a half-joking, “Honestly, I’m surprised they aren’t here shoving cameras in our faces right now.”
Tabitha, who much preferred her art form of photography over the opposing scheme of invasive videography that seemed to be growing in popularity thanks to Netflix, added under her breath, “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”
As if on her same wavelength - or maybe he noticed the way her hand tightened almost protectively around her camera lens in some metaphorical habit - Corbyn took a step away from his girlfriend to ask her with a smile, “Hey, think you can take a few pictures of my VIPs? It’d be sick to add them to my Instagram photo-dump tomorrow.”
“Yeah, of course.” Tabitha lifted her camera, “Get in there.”
Corbyn hopped the few half steps over to you and Daniel and he weaseled his way in between you, draping am around each of you with his photo-ready grin already directed towards the camera. Tabitha adjusted her settings a bit and then peered through the viewfinder of her expensive camera, meticulously framing you three in the composition with the backdrop of the Ferrari motorhome behind you. With VIP lanyards hung around your neck, you and Daniel seemed to fit right in on either side of the world-renowned racecar driver. But, just like tried and true best friends, Daniel held up four fingers with a cheeky grin, referencing Corbyn’s placement from that afternoon’s qualifying race, earning him a smack to his hand by said unimpressed driver.
With a few photos snapped, you then huddled around the camera to see the results, admiring the crystal clear focus and stunning lighting that Tabitha modestly attributed to the late afternoon sun when your praises came in influx. She promised to send them to Corbyn as soon as they returned to their hotel room later that night so he could forward them onto you. Then, when Corbyn pitched the offer to take you inside the Ferrari motorhome for a proper tour, she politely excused herself from your group with pleasantries of ‘nice to meet you’ and some passing excuse that she should get a few more shots before the drivers wrapped up and headed out for the evening.
Corbyn seemed unbothered by her sudden departure although his eyes lingered on her for a few seconds as she walked off before he turned his ever-present smile back to the two of you. With a clap of his hands together, he said, “Let’s get this tour started, shall we?”
Daniel stepped aside with a gesture of his hand, “After you.”
Corbyn hopped up the front steps of the Ferrari motorhome with grace after near years of practice and pulled open one of the double glass doors to lead you inside, “Welcome home. Or, as we say here at Scuderia Ferrari: benvenuto.”
Stepping over the threshold of the motorhome entryway, you were met with a modest size space lined with square tables which were circled by Ferrari red dining chairs across dark grey vinyl tile floors. Despite the team members that dotted the space in their uniforms and work shoes, the floors still appeared impressively spotless as if the luxury of it all could also purchase the ability to stay pristine. Motorsport had the ability to get messy fast and keeping their equipment and spaces in tip top shape only helped the cogs to turn smoother - and smooth was key in the world of F1.
Along the far wall of the cafeteria space was a bar counter that spanned about half the length of the space and on top was a neat arrangement of serving dishes topped with pastries and snacks and various cut up fruits and vegetables. A lady behind the bar in a Ferrari polo was arranging the platters and pouring drinks for crew members who came by, but it seemed that once Corbyn stepped inside, everyone’s attention turned to him. Their overlapping greetings were warm and friendly and even being a stranger amongst the group, you could easily feel the overwhelming sense of family that grew.
Once he said his quick hellos to the group, he turned his attention back to you and Daniel to begin the tour, “So, the first floor is catering. We usually always have at least snacks and things over there on the bar, but the door behind leads to the kitchen where we have genuine Italian chefs always at the ready to cook you up whatever you’re feeling.”
“For free?” you asked without thinking.
Corbyn sent you a pointed look, “Yes.”
You and Daniel exchanged impressed glances before following Corbyn across the spacious dining area to the stairs and you moved up to the second floor. When you exited the staircase, you were met with an open communal area donning red sofas and white lounge chairs as well as collaborative round tables with black leather chairs all resting atop commercial grade carpet. The LED strip lighting along the ceiling really brightened the space if not for the floor to ceiling windows on the front façade overlooking the paddock beyond. The tables were dotted with small potted plants and pads of Ferrari branded paper with matching pens on top and the walls were lined with framed memorabilia from Ferrari’s rich racing history and heritage.
“This is our lounge space.” Corbyn introduced as you circled the floor slowly on your tour, trying not to bother the few small groups of team members that were huddled around a table or chatting on the sofa, “We come up here to chill or to have informal meetings sometimes.”
“This is classy.” Daniel whistled, dragging his fingertips over the back of one of the leather chairs on the way past.
“And no lounge is complete without a bar.” Corbyn gestured to the mini bar along the back wall. Daniel agreed easily, still feeling the lingering effects of that statement from that afternoon at the Paddock Club.
The lounge was slightly more narrow than the first floor footprint as some of the space was taken up by rooms hidden by frosted glass doors. Walking along that wall which was adjacent to the front windows, the first one donned discrete and classy white lettering across the glass reading ‘team principal’.
Corbyn said quietly to the two of you, “Team principal’s office. Unfortunately off limits on this tour.”
The next frosted door led to a private meeting room which housed a fair sized oval table lined with red leather seats and a large flat screen TV on one wall for presentations and meetings. Corbyn explained how they often came in there to sign merchandise for fans or other similar projects. The third frosted door was the administration room where a few tables were set up with computers and laptops and other various equipment, three team members working away inside without even an ounce of distraction on their faces.
“The brains behind the operation take place in here.” Corbyn said, “Everything from marketing to hospitality to travel plans are all based out of this room, pretty much. They organize the logistics of when we have to start taking things down to move onto the next city for the next race weekend.”
Cocking your head to the side, you asked, “What do you mean ‘take things down’? Take what down?”
Corbyn spread his arms out, “This. The motorhome. The garages. Everything.”
Your eyes widened, “This doesn’t stay here? This huge structure?”
“No.” Corbyn chuckled at your innocent cluelessness and Daniel just smiled fondly at you as his best friend went on to explain, “We’re taking up a good chunk of the streets of Monaco right now. After race weekend we basically have to disappear like we were never here and take all of this to be set up in our next location. The motorhomes are built basically like stackable cubes for ease of transportation. Dope, right?”
You were speechless for a beat, merely blinking at him, open mouthed, “Yeah.”
Corbyn led you farther down the length of the transportable building to two final doors, each housing a shiny red number in the F1 font - 16 and 25, respectfully. Larger than life low-opacity decals were almost disappearing into the haze of the frosted glass, each being a headshot of each of Ferrari’s two drivers.
Corbyn tapped his own face on his door, “And these are our personal rooms as drivers. Our trainers can help us with some minor routine exercises in here or sometimes we have massages before the race to help loosen us up and stuff. Basically these are just our own little spaces to break away from everything if we need to.”
He slid the door open for a peek inside his room, although it wasn’t anything too crazy or impressive - just the necessities. One wall housed a red leather couch that could double as a massage table with the right adjustment to the metal bars beneath and the opposite wall had a built-in cabinet with a quaint table tucked in the corner. The landscape action shot of Corbyn’s Ferrari race car took up the length of the wall between the two but he also had taped his own polaroids and photographs to the plain white that covered the interior of his space. You noticed a few of him and Daniel and some with his family and many with the other drivers just goofing around…and only one, right in the center, of him and Tabitha in the Ferrari garage, taken as if they hadn’t known anyone was watching, just in innocent conversation. It was so candid and so natural and so calm, and yet it still made you smile.
As Corbyn closed the door again, ready to move onto the next location on your journey, you were interrupted by someone approaching and a greeting in an accent you couldn’t quite place, “Oh, we have guests.”
You and Daniel turned to see who it was, finding yourselves face to face with Scuderia Ferrari’s very own il Predestinato, the predestined one, Charles Leclerc. He was wearing the same race suit as Corbyn, of course, although his was a striking white and his matching white branded cap had a striking asymmetrical pattern of red diamonds along one side. With a warm smile framed in charismatic dimples and green eyes that nearly sparkled, he didn’t wait for Corbyn to introduce you before he was thrusting out his hand and introducing himself.
“Charles. You must be the friends’ of Corbyn’s. He has been talking about you coming all week.”
You and Daniel each shook his hand with amused expressions that were countered by Corbyn’s tisk that came from the call-out from his teammate and Daniel took the initiative to introduce the both of you himself and you exchanged pleasantries.
“So, you've been enjoying Monaco, non?” Charles asked.
“It’s beautiful.” you answered easily, “Like straight out of a movie.”
“Good to hear that.” he smiled at you with a friendly wink.
Corbyn, standing beside you, explained teasingly, “My dear teammate here makes being from Monaco his entire personality.”
“Okay,” Charles laughed humorlessly at the lighthearted dig, “says the American.”
“Mm,” you scrunched your nose and glanced over at Corbyn, “he’s got you there.”
Gaping at you, Corbyn gestured his hand out helplessly towards Charles, “You just met him five seconds ago and you’re already taking his side?”
“I always side against the Americans, don’t you know that about me by now?” you nudged him playfully.
Charles cocked his head to the side faintly, asking you, “You’re not American?”
“God, no.” you waved your hand as if to physically remove that assumption from the air between you, “I’m Canadian.”
“Then how did you meet these two?”
Daniel took the answer proudly, “Well, Corbyn’s my best friend so she knows him through me. And she and I met at a mutual friend’s Christmas party two years ago or so now after she moved to LA for work.”
You piped up with a casual correction of your boyfriend’s statement, “We actually met before that at that same friend’s birthday party that summer.”
Daniel replied to you smoothly, “But I don’t remember that so it doesn’t count.”
“Because you were fucking plastered.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“You were still a solid flirt though.” you smiled and wrapped your hand around his bicep as you glanced at him lovingly for a moment, “That’s never changed.”
Daniel smiled right back and leaned in to share a fleeting kiss with you.
Charles, who had been trying to follow your quick bantered dialogue with wide eyes, glanced over at Corbyn who merely shrugged. With a casual clear of his throat, Charles reached up to adjust the white cap on his head and then reached into his room long enough to grab his bag to sling over his shoulder.
Straightened up, he told you all, “Well, I should go home. I have to rest before the race tomorrow.”
“Yes! Pole position for you at your home race.” Daniel stated.
Not giving the poor guy a second to properly process Daniel’s sentence first, you added, “Is that why you have a snazzy fit and Corbyn’s is boring red?”
“‘Snazzy fit’?” Charles chuckled half-nervously with another glance towards his teammate but with his amount of experience around other chaotic English speakers by that point in his career, he could extrapolate what you were trying to say, “Ah, yes, the special edition. It was something I was working with Puma and the team. You like it?”
“Yeah, I love it!” you agreed, “Maybe it will bring you luck tomorrow.”
“We will see.” Charles laughed modestly, “I will see you tomorrow?”
“Maybe. But we don’t want to get in your way.” Daniel said, glancing over at Corbyn, “We just follow him around; wherever he tells us to go.”
“Alright.” Charles offered his hand out to share some casual fist bumps with each of you.
As he turned, Corbyn called out his name and when he looked back, he told him, “Almost forgot: Tabs wanted to see you before you left today. She should be around the paddock. Try McLaren?”
“Okay, thanks.” Charles sent him a quick thumbs up before continuing his path to the stairs.
You smiled over at Corbyn, “Well, he was the sweetest.”
Corbyn shrugged with a soft laugh, “Yeah, I might have the best teammate on the grid. Don’t mean to brag but…”
“Only would be better if it was me, right?” Daniel reached around you to give Corbyn’s shoulder a pat.
“No way.” Corbyn scoffed, “You’d drag our team down to last.”
Before Daniel could retaliate with any form of physical banter, Corbyn scurried away with a cheeky grin and you were forced to follow after him towards the stairs for your last stop of your tour.
The third floor was actually a terrace for the drivers, the team, and any personal guests. The third of the top floor that was indoor was, as expected, a bar and lounge area that continued the same design from the rest of the interior of the motorhome. Corbyn explained how this space was used to sign new drivers and he sat himself down in the same seat he had been sitting at the table when he signed with Ferrari back in late 2018. He then ordered you both drinks at the bar - none for himself since he needed a clear mind until after the race the following day - and then led you outside the large sliding glass doors to the open air of the terrace.
Outdoor lounge furniture was laid out neatly across the rooftop with a few sun umbrellas here and there. It was generally empty on the terrace which gave the three of you a bit of privacy to talk and enjoy the Monaco sunshine and the city in the distance. You stood at the railing overlooking the paddock, skimming the hustle and bustle going on below with a sea of various coloured uniforms and equipment being moved in all directions.
Corbyn and Daniel stood just to your left in some conversation that you didn’t think you needed to be actively involved in. Instead, you took your time to people-watch in this world you were unfamiliar with, sipping your fruity cocktail from a red straw with your forearms resting atop the warm railing of the terrace. Directly down below, you saw Charles walking out of the motorhome, probably having been stopped by some team members for a chat on his short journey between the second floor and the exit since parting ways with your little group. As he stepped out onto the pavement, he raised his hand up to someone farther down the paddock and you turned to spy on who he was calling over.
You spotted Tabitha with ease between her F1 t-shirt and that camera still around her neck but more likely thanks to the impressively tall man walking at her side that helped them to stand out from the crowd. In light wash blue jeans and a snug fitted branded black t-shirt of a team you couldn’t make out from the height you were at, the Monaco breeze ruffled through his neatly styled light brown hair. Although he was wearing black Ray Ban sunglasses, his smile was bright and infectious and as they approached Charles, he reached a hand out to share a fist bump with his friendly rival.
As Tabitha spoke with Charles about whatever she needed to see him for, the other young man at her side glanced up towards the terrace of the Ferrari motorhome you were atop of as if he could sense your stare. He reached a hand up in a little wave and, although embarrassed at first that you were caught staring, you lifted your hand from where you were resting forward on the railing for a wave back. Tabitha and Charles looked up at you too thanks to their friend’s move and you offered them a little wave too. But the lingering gaze of the mystery addition kept your attention for a moment longer until he, too, was turning back to look at Charles and he slid his hands in his pockets naturally.
Someone nudging your arm had you startling slightly and you looked over at Corbyn who was on Daniel’s other side from you, “I was just talking to Daniel about what our weekend is looking like - there’s going to be a yacht party out on the water after the race tomorrow. Did you want to join?”
“Yeah, of course.” you straightened up from the railing, “Who’s all going to be there?”
“Probably just most if not all of the drivers and anyone they feel like inviting along too.” Corbyn shrugged, “T will be there so you won’t be the only girl.”
“Oh, thanks.” you scoffed lightheartedly. “Not like I’d need anyone but Daniel to keep me company.”
“That’s right, baby.” he winked at you.
“I swear, if you guys make half the grid puke overboard from bearing witness to your immense amount of drunken PDA tomorrow night, I will revoke your VIP privileges.” Corbyn teased, although he sounded like he was only half joking.
Briefly changing the topic, you didn’t dare to look in fear of giving yourself away as you asked him, “Who’s that down there?”
Corbyn and Daniel both looked over the railing to the trio below.
“With Tabs and Charles? That’s George Russell. Drives for Mercedes.” Corbyn answered.
“He’s fine as fuck.” you stated.
“Excuse me?” Daniel gaped at you, all too familiar with your blunt statements but always one to feign offence all the same.
“Not as fine as you, my beautiful sunshine.” you promised with an innocent smile and a touch of your hand to his chest.
“Yeah, you better cover your ass.” he laughed warningly.
Corbyn snorted at your banter and cocked his head in your direction, “I would assure you that he’s single but you, my dear, are not.”
“Why would I need anyone else when I already have the best?” you slung your arm around Daniel’s shoulders, “Besides, I’m allowed to look at the menu…I just can’t order.”
Your boyfriend kissed the corner of your mouth as his hand slid around your waist proudly and you glanced back down over the railing, only to see George still staring right back up at the two of you from behind the shadow of his sunglasses.
The next day at daybreak, the paddock was arguably even busier than it had been the afternoon before. At 7:30, teams and drivers were arriving to begin their preparations for race day which began with breakfast in the motorhomes. Being Corbyn’s guests, you and Daniel gladly accompanied him to breakfast despite needing to wake up at an early hour back in his house - he only had to come into the guest room to shake you both awake twice that morning. The drive to the paddock in his luxury BMW sports car was brief given that Monaco was such a small country and the rush of warm morning air helped to liven you from your previous slumber and once you arrived, the team valet took the keys to park it with a wish of luck to Corbyn.
Donning your VIP Ferrari lanyards again and, of course, matching official Scuderia Ferrari merchandise, you and Daniel walked hand in hand behind Corbyn as he led the way through the turnstiles and then towards the motorhome. Tabitha had to be at the paddock before the drivers so she didn’t accompany you in Corbyn’s car that morning but she and her camera were greeted almost immediately by Corbyn with a little wave and a beaming smile as she stood amongst some of the other media personnel just inside the entrance to the paddock. One to take her work seriously, she didn’t wave back, but you could see her smile bashfully behind her camera and the flutter of the shutter.
You leaned closer to Daniel to whisper, “I feel famous.”
“You look famous.” Daniel complimented. “Did I ever tell you that you look so fucking good in red?”
“Once or twice.” you turned away from him modestly, leaving him to only give your hand a squeeze so as to keep the PDA to a minimum for the sake of Corbyn’s photo opportunities he was walking through. It was his weekend, after all.
The three of you sat around a table in the Ferrari dining area and a waitress came over to take your orders. It was all so fancy and impressive - something you didn’t expect from a world of silly race car driving. You and Daniel treated yourselves to pancakes while Corbyn ordered something high protein and sufficient to start his day along with a smoothie packed full of extra nutrition. The nauseating colour of it made Daniel scrunch up his nose at the mere sight and Corbyn just smiled at his best friend over the rim of his glass as he took a hefty sip.
“Gives me a traumatic reminder of when you made me one and it came out my nose.” Daniel shuttered.
Corbyn nearly choked on his smoothie and he put it back on the table to cover his mouth with his hand before stumbling out an, “Oh my God, I forgot about that.”
“I didn’t.” Daniel insisted.
“When was that?” you laughed.
“Uh, few years ago now. How old were we?” Daniel glanced at Corbyn, “Twenty? Twenty-one?”
“It was the year before I signed, I think.” Corbyn thought aloud, “Because I was desperately trying to beef up before that season in F2 and I wanted you to join me in the effort.”
Daniel shook his head slowly, “It was then and there that I realized I will only go so far as to accompany you to the gym but not join you in your insane routines.”
Corbyn reached over to smack Daniel’s arm teasingly, “Just say you’re weak, bro, it’s okay.”
You replied effortlessly as you took a bite of your pancakes, “His stamina makes up for it.”
Daniel sent you a wink from beside you and Corbyn snorted and reached for his smoothie again with a tisk, “Disgusting.”
After breakfast, around 9:00, the drivers were set to begin their usual race day routines which started with their strategy meetings with their teams. Since that was strictly confidential, you and Daniel had to say goodbye to Corbyn there and most likely wouldn’t see him again until after the race. Besides, the Paddock Club and its free drinks and entertainment were calling your names. So, Daniel and Corbyn shared a quick hug and Daniel offered him some words of encouragement that had often been delivered over text message for most of the races prior. You gave him a hug too and wished him luck - insisting that he didn’t need it - to which he thanked you honestly. Then, you were parting ways.
Back outside in the familiar bustle of the paddock, you and Daniel stepped onto the pavement and let your hands fall into each other’s like second nature. With the area being so crowded, you moved slowly to navigate your way through the photographers without getting in their way and the team members who had vitally important places to be. A few incoming drivers breezed past you - some with their game faces already on - either in their own casual outfits or their branded team clothing. Your gaze followed one of them right past you as he was trailed by photographers with their cameras and a few volunteers thrusting Sharpies and various Red Bull merchandise at him for a signature and in your momentary distraction, you trusted Daniel to guide you through the crowd.
Daniel suddenly yanking on your hand had you whipping back around and stumbling to the side just in time to narrowly avoid a guy on an electric scooter screeching to a halt mere millimeters beside you. His startled expression was revealed under an orange cap that barely tamed his curly brown hair.
“My bad. You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’m so sorry.” you assured him quickly.
Daniel tisked at you, gesturing with his hand that wasn’t in yours towards the young man and his team uniform he wore, “He’s wearing neon orange, how do you not see him coming?”
The guy’s expression furrowed for a moment as if he were completely taken aback and, with one foot on the pavement to stabilize himself and his scooter, he pointed to his chest and the vibrant orange McLaren polo he was wearing under a branded black vest, correcting Daniel seriously, “Uhm, it’s papaya.”
You giggled softly, licking away your smile at his slight offence.
Then, his eyes flicked down to what you both were wearing and he nodded towards your lanyards, “Ferrari guests, huh?”
“Yeah.” You thrust out your hand towards him and introduced yourself and your boyfriend by name briefly.
He took your handshake with a smile that scrunched his eyes closed in the outer corners, introducing himself in return, “Lando Norris. Driver for McLaren - also known loudly and proudly as team papaya.”
“Full introduction. You think we didn’t know you or something?” you questioned.
He cocked his head to the side, pulling his lips in a disbelieving line, “Mm, not really. That blinding red was a bit of a giveaway. Think you need an upgrade to team papaya, mate.”
Always on hot alert to anyone to dare question his best friend, even in joking passing, Daniel replied, “And why’s that?”
Lando shrugged coolly, “Everyone knows we’re the best around here.”
His statement had you suddenly remembering the Constructors Championship standings updates and history that Corbyn had shared with you over breakfast that morning and you were quick on the rebuttal, “But didn’t you finish fourth last year? And that was - if I remember correctly - after Ferrari?”
“Oh, lookey here!” Lando laughed, “I underestimated you.”
Daniel grinned and let go of your hand in exchange for his arm to wrap around your shoulders, “That’s my girl.”
“Well, don’t worry. This year’s numbers will turn out differently, I’m sure.” he leaned forward on the handlebars of his scooter, “So, I’m assuming you’re Corbyn’s guests since you’re too English to be friends of Charles’.”
“Yeah,” Daniel answered, “He’s my best friend.”
“How sweet. I think I definitely remember him talking about you.” Lando leaned in towards you both a little to say quietly, “He’s told us all your secrets.”
Daniel’s eyes must have widened in momentary surprise because then Lando was laughing and swatting his hand through the air playfully.
“Nah, I’m just pulling your leg. Corbyn’s a great secret keeper. Although, I’d argue not as good as that girlfriend of his; she knows far too much about me and has somehow still kept it all under wraps.”
Daniel chuckled, “Okay, I’ll know to hassle her about getting some dirt on you next time I see her.”
“Good luck.” Lando said pointedly. “She is a vault.”
“Makes for a great friend then.” you said.
“That is true.” Lando set his foot back on his scooter, “You guys enjoy the race. If you change your mind, we have lots of extra papaya shirts next door if you feel like cheering for the right team. But for now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m already fashionably late to my strategy meeting.”
“Oh, we didn’t tell you?” you furrowed your eyebrows in his direction, “We were sent by Ferrari specifically to hold you up to sabotage said strategy.”
“Nice try.” Lando snorted, “I’ll have to hear you say that again when I’m on top of the podium later today.”
Then, he pushed off the ground with his other foot to zoom off again, calling over his shoulder,
“See you around!”
With his arm still around your shoulders, Daniel guided you towards the nearby exit of the paddock, both of you in lingering content smiles from that lighthearted interaction with a friendly stranger. Your boyfriend complimented you in passing on your wit and you slid your hand in the back pocket of his jeans with some reply about always trying to impress him. This wasn’t your part of the universe amongst the drivers and the cars, but when you were together, it certainly felt like it was you against the world.
Since it was only 9:00, you and Daniel took that time to explore some more of Monaco together and you walked the streets and found a few stores to poke into before your afternoon plans would begin. Most of the city felt as though it were closed off for the race so the traffic - both vehicular and pedestrian - felt much more than what would normally have been found in Monte Carlo. You took two hours to yourselves to shop and explore and take a few photos where you could before stopping at Corbyn’s house with Daniel’s spare key to drop off your bags so you didn’t have to lug them with you back to the track.
The Paddock Club welcomed you back in time for lunch and you and Daniel shared a table for two overlooking both the crystal blue water of the Monaco harbour as well as the race circuit carved out of the streets below. Your meal was prepared by Michelin star chefs and you and Daniel clinked your glasses of summery alcohol together in a content ‘cheers’ to your lovely weekend and sharing a ‘good luck’ to Corbyn and Charles on top of that.
A live band played across the terrace and the upbeat yet calming music was carried by the midday ocean breeze and the large screen set up on the opposite side of the rooftop was playing the recap from Saturday’s qualifying in preparation for the race ahead. Of course, Daniel’s attention was almost glued to the screen for any sort of spot of Corbyn’s impressive session, his only hint that he was aware he was there with you was the fact that his hand was resting in yours from across the table. You, instead, were focused all on him in the sunshine and the toe of your shoe gently rubbed up and down the bottom of his shin just under his pant leg, completely enamoured by merely the sight of him.
“It’s so cute how you’re so proud of Corbyn.” you spoke aloud.
Daniel tore his eyes away from the screen across the terrace to look at you with a soft smile, “He’s my brother and he’s in front of the world, doing what he loves. There’s nothing cooler.”
“Thank you for sharing this weekend with me.” you whispered as you raised his hand up from the table to kiss his knuckles and then you rested your cheek down against them.
Daniel’s gaze furrowed slightly in confusion, “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well, it could have been your guys’ weekend with Corbyn.”
“He’s too busy most of the time and I would have been super bored.” Daniel shrugged, “Besides, you and I always have fun together and I’m sure there’s lots more to come the next few days.”
You licked away your smile as you stared at him, “Yeah.”
Daniel gently moved his thumb from your grasp to caress your cheek softly, “I love you.”
“I love you too.” you whispered.
Then, he was leaning over the table to kiss your lips and you smiled against his mouth and cupped his face in your hands to keep him there for a moment longer. When he sat back down, he habitually pulled out his phone to check the time before gasping at the numbers staring back at him and he turned the screen to show you.
“12:27. We have to hurry to make the track tour.” he reminded you.
Just outside of the Paddock Club was where the track tour was picking up the VIPs. The flatbed truck was already awaiting the guests and a few were already loaded on and waiting for the tour to start in mere moments. You and Daniel showed your passes to the employees and you were permitted on board along with them.
The elite track tour was simply what the name implied: a tour around the Monaco circuit. Although the tour took the same path that the drivers would later that day, the truck that carried the guests was going much, much slower. You made some whispered joke to Daniel that you could walk faster than this thing. As you journey, facts and history of the circuit and Monaco Grand Prix’s of the past were given by a prominent figure in the Formula 1 world who could also speak to the best strategies that are key for that specific track. You hoped there wouldn’t be a quiz on who that individual was because you swore you had never heard his name in your life, but you still politely applauded his introduction along with the rest of the guests.
One lap around the track took almost an entire half hour and the truck returned you to the Paddock Club entrance where you had begun your tour. It appeared much busier in that area when you approached than when you left as if the usual bustle from the paddock had overspilled onto the edge of the track and the long red F1 branded carpet that was laid out over the pavement. You recognized a few of the drivers standing around together, chatting, between flutters of media personnel who were snapping pictures and a film crew that was weaving between small groups in preparation for the driver’s parade that was about to begin immediately following your tour.
The VIP guests were guided off the truck and ushered back towards the Paddock Club as if to prevent them from getting too distracted by any possible cases of star-struck. A few of the drivers were still struggling out from the paddock and as they were waiting, some were off to the side signing autographs for the fans thrusting pictures and merchandise through the fence - Charles among them - and he had an obvious grin across his face as he scribbled his signature for the enthusiastic fans of his homeland.
“Daniel!”
Someone calling his name had your boyfriend turning his attention from the crowds of fans through the fence to scan the smaller groups of drivers scattered about. As expected, Corbyn already had his hand up and a grin on his face, the other four drivers with him already staring in your direction as he called you over. As you approached, Daniel’s hand in yours as it had been for most of the weekend, you recognized the Red Bull driver from that morning who had distracted you enough to almost get hit by Lando’s scooter as well as Lando himself standing between him and Corbyn. The third person in their circle was George - the young man you had been eyeing from the top of the Ferrari motorhome the previous day - and he still wore those sunglasses, preventing you from getting a good look at him.
Although you could tell he was tall from your bird's eye view from the top of the motorhome, it surprised you that you actually had to look up at him a little when you took your place beside him in the group. You, Daniel, and he seemed to stand at least a few centimetres above the rest of the circle although you were sure the newly acquainted were surprised by your height.
“Aw, look,” Lando greeted as you approached, “it’s my new best friends.”
“You’ve met?” Corbyn glanced between you.
“This morning after breakfast when he tried to run me over.” you answered coolly.
The group chuckled faintly and the young man in the Red Bull uniform added, “Sounds believable.”
Lando pointed at him accusingly, “Hey, it was your fault she wasn’t paying attention.”
The stranger pressed his finger against his own chest in wide-eyed disbelief, “My fault?”
“Anyway,” Corbyn waved his hand to end the brief bickering before offering quick introductions of you and Daniel and then his circle, “You clearly know Lando already, that’s George, and this is Max.”
Hellos were shared and then George was turning to you, asking you both in the smoothest British accent you’d ever heard, “How have you been enjoying your experience so far?”
“Oh, it’s been amazing.” you answered honestly, half thankful for his sunglasses because you were sure his eyes would be as nice as the rest of him and completely distract you from your train of thought, “I was worried I’d stick out like a sore thumb around here but I think I’ve been catching on to what's going on enough to blend in at least somewhat.”
“Yeah, she threw some Ferrari statistics in my face this morning.” Lando shook his head, “Sounded just like our team.”
You held your hand to your heart in his direction, “So kind of you to say.”
“How’s your Mercedes knowledge?” George pressed cheekily.
“Weak.” you answered before explaining with a haphazard gesture across the small circle to Corbyn, “Our tour guide is a little biased.”
“Such a shame.” George shook his head in mock dismay.
Daniel shrugged, “I wouldn’t change him.”
“Hey, thanks, man.” Corbyn grinned at his best friend.
Lando made a heart with his hands, “Aw, bromance.”
Drawn back into a conversation with George, you added to your initial statement, “I think the only Mercedes knowledge I have is that you’re starting P2 today.”
“Very good.” he praised with a toothy grin.
Of course his teeth were perfectly straight and blindingly white and your hand tightened on Daniel’s at the way this stranger’s praise made your heart soar proudly.
Max then raised his hand slightly, expressing in a surprisingly serious tone, “I’m still wanting to know why I am at fault for Lando’s attempted murder.”
Despite Lando’s half-amused scoff, you replied briefly, “I was distracted by the impressive crowd of ducklings following after you through the paddock this morning.”
“And because of that, she wasn’t looking where she was going.” Daniel finished.
Max laughed lightly and nodded in understanding.
George piped up half jokingly, directing his explanation to you and Daniel, “You become world champion and suddenly people can’t get enough of you.”
You looked over at him on your direct left, sharing in his warm knowing smile for a brief moment as you desperately tried to ignore the invasive thought to just reach up and rip his sunglasses off his face. His skin just looked ridiculously soft and his fluffy brown hair that was ruffled by the seaside breeze was enticing to your fingers and you wanted a proper look at this man. Despite your itching curiosity, you were more than thankful for Daniel’s hand in yours to act as some sort of grounding in reality while he was too busy chatting with the other three. Why wasn’t George looking away from you? Why weren’t you taking the initiative to look away yourself?
It felt like ages that you were standing there in silence but it was truly no more than a few seconds before one of the F1 organizers was calling the drivers to load onto the flatbed truck for the parade, tearing you from your momentary distraction. The rest of the little circle shared brief fist bumps and goodbyes and they made their way to the truck a few paces away. George lingered back for a moment as he was at the back of their small group and he, too, shared fleeting fist bumps with the both of you.
“Are you coming to the yacht party tonight?” you asked him casually.
“Yeah, I think so.” he kept slowly walking in the direction of the truck but his body kept turning towards you both as if he didn’t quite want to leave too quickly, “Are you?”
“Definitely. We’ll see you there then.”
His lips perked up at the corner in a half smile, taking a step backwards, “Looking forward to it.”
“Good luck this afternoon.” you called after him.
“Thanks, love.” he replied smoothly and you could have sworn that if he wasn’t wearing those damn sunglasses, you would have seen him wink.
Entirely startled, you stood in near shock as he turned his back to you and hurried to join the rest of the guys on the flatbed truck, the snug black fabric of his long sleeve Mercedes shirt hugging him perfectly under the afternoon sun. You turned your head slowly to look at your boyfriend as if to see if he had heard that too, only to find him already looking at you with a peaked brow.
“Close your mouth.” Daniel laughed, using his hand that wasn’t in yours to physically nudge your chin up himself.
“Oh my God.” you glanced back towards the lineup of drivers on the flatbed truck, “Who is that man?”
“Do you want me to tie your hair back for you or what?” Daniel gave you a little shove.
“Huh?” you tore your eyes away from your obvious staring - that was definitely caught in the background of some photos - to look at your boyfriend beside you again.
“You were flirting it up with that guy.” he tisked, although his tone was entirely amused and his cocky smirk was proof enough of that, “Right in front of me!”
“Not like I’d do it behind your back.” you shrugged, glancing back towards the truck.
Daniel tugged at your hand to bring your attention back to him, standing together in the middle of the red carpet, surrounded by media crew and professionals, as he asked quietly, “Think you want to ask him to join us tonight?”
“I mean, I’m thinking about it. I just dunno if I want to lay claim on him yet; he has so much going for him already that there has to be something wrong with the guy to balance it out.”
“Okay,” Daniel chuckled, “Your call, baby. Just let me know.”
You returned to the terrace of the Paddock Club to watch the Driver’s Parade on the big screen and share some snacks and drinks, and as you did, you were analyzing every word that George was saying to the interviewer, trying to see who he was under those preposterous sunglasses. Now it was Daniel’s time to admire you as you were focused on the screen, standing beside you at the bar table with his right arm leaning against the table top and his attention all on you. He had a faint smile on his face, eyes drifting between your habitually bitten lip and your unwavering attention given to the screen in front of you.
Just before 2:00, once the driver’s parade was over, Tabitha met you on the terrace to show you where you would be watching the race. Corbyn spared nothing when it came to making sure you and his best friend had the best treatment. Tabitha had been one of the photographers on the driver’s parade so, as usual, she still had her camera around her neck and her pass clipped to the belt loop on her jeans when she approached you.
“You’re busier than the actual drivers!” Daniel joked as she stopped at your table.
“We haven't seen you almost all weekend!” you finished.
“Yeah,” she sighed with a faint smile, “but I wouldn’t change it for a second. I love what I do.”
“Got any good shots?” you asked casually.
“Think so. But you won’t get to see them until later.” she set her hand protectively over her camera, “We also need to hurry because I need to find a good spot on the track to shoot the race. Ready?”
You and Daniel took one last sips of your drinks before following after her towards the stairs and down onto street level. The drivers were gone and the track was cleared and the red carpet was rolled up and put away and Tabitha led you across the pavement and towards the nearby entrance to the pit lane. She walked quickly despite her shorter stature, as if she always had to prove her standing in a career dominated by men, and you and Daniel found yourselves almost having to jog to keep up.
Daniel broke the temporary silence among you with a joking, “So what dirt do you have on Lando?”
“Nothing.” she replied plainly.
“He said you know all his secrets.”
“I do.”
“And?”
Tabitha stopped and turned to him, so suddenly that you almost crashed right into her, and she assured him plainly, “You’re utterly stupid if you think I’m going to tell anyone his secrets - especially someone I just met yesterday.”
Daniel, eyes wide, startled, merely nodded. You licked away your amused smile as she turned back around and continued walking.
Daniel looked over at you long enough to whisper, “She’s scary.”
You picked up the pace to keep up with her and you replied to your boyfriend coolly as he walked in step with you, “Your fault for trying so hard to be funny that you landed in ‘stupid’.”
“Just shut up and hold my hand.” Daniel grumbled and snatched your hand in his.
The pit lane was organized chaos with each of the ten garages filled with mechanics and engineers and team members all working around the impressively sparkling race cars and adjacent computer systems. You followed Tabitha down the centre of the lane to avoid getting in the way of the final work being done before the race was set to begin and the third garage from the entrance of the pit lane was Ferrari’s. Along the top of the open two Ferrari garages was a bold red stripe donning Corbyn’s name, number, home flag, and headshot over one as well as the same information for Charles over the other. Entering through Corbyn’s side of the garage, Tabitha kept close to the wall as the mechanics worked on the final touches to fiery red car donning ‘25’, and you and Daniel walked single file behind her, still managing to hold hands regardless, in fear of getting separated and lost amongst the chaos.
Walking between the towers of stacked tires, she then led you up a straight flight of metal stairs to the second floor of the garage and then right away turned up another straight flight to the third floor.
You tried to take in as much as you could of the areas which normally would be off limits while also keeping up with your guide. You managed to peek around the corner on the second floor to get a glimpse of the engineer’s room and the pit wall that was race ready and overlooking the pit lane and the grandstands that were filling with fans. Corbyn and Charles would be somewhere in the area taking part in whatever pre-race warm up routines they conducted for themselves - as were the other drivers in their team’s section - but you dared not to interrupt them, wherever they were.
The third floor was the hospitality area for Ferrari’s VIPS, lined with red and black striped walls dividing up the space cozily while also donning the once blank garage in applicable branding. You emerged from the top of the stairs towards the floor to ceiling windows that were angled downwards just enough to overlook the pit lane below and opposite grandstands and Tabitha showed you where the washrooms were just to the right before turning left into the modest lounge area. A handful of other guests were already there and ordering drinks with the bartender at the bar along the back wall. Outside the sliding glass doors was a curved patio that was just wide enough to fit a few chairs in a row and when you leaned over the railing, you could look directly down at the spot where the Ferrari cars would pull up for their pitstop mid race.
“You okay here then?” Tabitha asked from the doorway as you and Daniel took a moment to admire your new location and view of the Monaco harbour and the mountainous city of Monte Carlo in the near distance.
You turned around to face her, “You don’t wanna hang with us for a bit?”
“I don’t really like hanging around Ferrari areas.” she admitted softly, “These guys are not my biggest fans since they found out about Corbyn and me.”
You frowned, “That’s stupid.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” she scoffed before smoothly changing the subject, “So, do you need anything else?”
Daniel shook his head, “No, I think we’re okay. Thanks.”
“Here,” Tabitha stepped forward and held out her hand to you, “let me give you my number in case you need something. I won’t be able to leave my spot during the race but I can try to answer if it’s important.”
You took your phone from your purse, unlocked it, and then handed it to her as you said, “That’s amazing. You’re amazing. Thank you so much.”
With Tabitha’s phone number in your contacts, you said your goodbyes and she hurried off as fast as she had led you there. Standing at the railing, you watched her emerge from the garage below and continue down the pitlane to make it to the starting line before the opening ceremonies would begin.
You and Daniel helped yourselves to the open bar and returned to the balcony for your impressive view, trying to get a glimpse of anything interesting going on beneath you. But, not long later, the cars were emerging from the garages one at a time, breaking through the air with testing rumbles of their engines as they made their way towards the track. It was only a matter of time now.
The drivers did one reconnaissance lap around the circuit to test the track conditions and the quality of their car before each stopping in their assigned grid slot given from the results of qualifying the previous day. Their mechanics had met them there and the section of track around the starting line was packed full of people in various coloured uniforms, circling each car like bees to a flower. You and Daniel stood inside the lounge to watch the happenings on the large screen tv that was hung on the wall, admiring the flurry of red around the matching cars in P1 and P4 and trying to spot either of the two Ferrari drivers. Of course, you didn’t bring attention to the fact that you were also trying to get a glimpse of the driver who took up P2 beside Charles, squinting your eyes to see anything amongst the bustle of mechanics in black and teal.
At quarter to three, the Prince’s Orchestra lined up ahead of the starting line and the drivers were arranged together in two rows a step behind the Prince and Princess of Monaco. Charles, since it was his home race, had the opportunity to even stand ahead of the royal family, donning his custom white and red race suit and designer sunglasses; in all honesty looking more like the Prince of Monaco than the real one who stood behind him.
The band began to play the national anthem and Charles stood tall and proud at the head of the group. The camera panned over the lineup of drivers who were all standing with their game faces on - except Corbyn who spotted the camera near him and to which he gave a little wink. Daniel let out a little scoff at his best friend’s antics. You tried not to do the same but because of the fact that George, two spots down from Corbyn, was still wearing those damn sunglasses.
Then finally, once the track was cleared and the mechanics had removed their equipment away from the cars, it was mere minutes until the race would begin at the top of the hour.
As the drivers prepared in the last few moments, one of the Ferrari team members brought over headsets and radios for each of you in the hospitality suite and introduced how they worked and how to switch between the two channels, giving you a chance to eavesdrop on the discussions between the drivers and their engineers. Of course, Daniel switched his to Corbyn’s channel right away - as did you - and you headed back onto the balcony to claim your seats. Although, once the five red lights shut off and the deafening roar of twenty engines and the screech of tires against pavement could be heard across Monaco, you were drawn to your feet and right to the railing.
Although you could listen in on the radio conversation and see the best clips of the race on the TVs that lined both the hospitality suite and projections for the grandstands outside, nothing beat the real-life vision of red turning that corner right in front of you, just across the pit lane, whizzing in front of the packed grandstands to the excitement of the crowd as Charles stayed firm at the lead of his rivals. But right behind was that sleek black Mercedes that threatened him by only a few shrinking seconds, the driver of mystery still ultimately hidden from your curious view. You sipped your drink, eyes following the two leaders closely as the rest of the group trailed behind them.
Max and Corbyn were ridiculously close together at your first sight of them. Corbyn was desperate to try and take over into third but Max was strongly holding his own, especially with the rest of the drivers clogged up behind them and nipping at their heels. The first three laps or so were that mess of chaos where the cars were a colony of colourful ants and it had you covering your eyes for half of it, claiming that the sight of them all slowing down to a crawl and bumping into each other around the corners gave you too much of an ick to watch. Maybe you needed a drink.
You lingered at the bar as the bartender mixed your cocktail and you listened to Corbyn’s crackling radio discussion with his engineer through your headset, complaining about Max constantly cutting him off and trying to nudge him off the track every time he tried to get past. He had reiterated to you and Daniel multiple times that this circuit was nearly impossible to overtake your opponents so you applauded his dedication to the cause. Glancing up at the TV on the wall, you wondered where Tabitha had placed herself around the track to get those best shots of the race. Part of you wanted to message her to ask but you knew better than to interrupt her.
By the time you returned to the balcony to your rightful spot beside Daniel, there seemed to be a bit more space between the cars to allow for some breathing room. Not that they liked that, so you figured. Charles was still keeping his spot in P1 and starting to really put more of a distance between him and George. That only meant that Max - previous multiple World Champion - was gaining on him with his hungry eyes on that slipping P2. Although you were there to support Corbyn, you couldn’t help but silently hope that Charles and George could both hold their own - especially given that it was Charles’ home race.
About a third of the way through the race with not much overtaking but certainly a good amount of collisions for the bulk of the drivers, Corbyn was still sitting in P4 and discussing coming in for a tire change and you and Daniel listened to his impressively professional explanation of how the car was feeling through every turn and on every straight to his engineer. Lando was gaining on him but he had a few seconds worth of gap between them so Corbyn decided to take the opportunity. At the confirmation call of ‘box, box’ through the radio from the engineer to alert the pit crew, Daniel nearly threw himself over the railing to peer down the pit lane in anticipation of Corbyn’s entrance.
The red 25 glided effortlessly into the pit lane and right into the painted lines that were framed by matching red-clad mechanics, only taking a fraction of a second to change the tires and send him on his way, barely enough time for Daniel - a few drinks deep by that point in the day - to shout enthusiastically down towards his best friend who certainly couldn’t hear him. Taking off again, Corbyn had to stick to the speed limit in the pit lane but he pushed it the most he could without breaking the rules, desperate to not give up his spot to Lando. And when he pulled out of the pit lane, the McLaren was neck and neck with him.
As if spotting each other at the same time, they both pressed onwards to try and overtake the other. Close friends off the track, friendship was a mute point during a race, and the two of them threatened to push the other into the barriers if they got too close through the first turn out of the pit lane. The Monaco streets weren’t welcoming to two cars at the same time and the faint grazing of Lando’s orange paint against the edge had him nudging back against Corbyn’s left side to try and get back in the centre as they made their way up the straight side by side.
Although you had the headset on that gave you full access to Corbyn’s radio, the TV playing just inside the suite had the full live broadcast, meaning you could hear Lando’s frustration to his own engineer loud and clear,
“What is this idiot doing?”
Daniel, as if he was being asked the rhetorical question personally, answered without tearing his eyes away from the big screen battle across the track, “Winning.”
And through your headset came a just as agitated Corbyn, “Can this guy get out of the fucking way?! No one knows how to leave space!”
“He’s pushing me off!” Lando argued from the TV.
And as Corbyn managed to pull ahead going into the next turn and regain his spot in P4, the less than polite name Lando shouted at the Ferrari driver was bleeped by the broadcast. You and Daniel shared a high five as some of the other guests in the suite cheered at the Ferrari success.
But up at the front of the line up, Charles was breezing on through the streets that shouted his name; people lined up across balconies with flags and banners and packed along the mountainside until every space between the green of trees was taken up by people in glorious red. He was riding on the high of having his hometown behind him, letting the cheers from his crowd glide him around the sharp corners and sizzling pavement that he knew like the back of his hand. He felt invincible.
George was certainly not an issue for Charles as he was starting to struggle on his tires. He was in desperate need to change them but with Max breathing down his neck, it was hard to give it up. If nothing else, for Charles, George’s ability to keep Max from squeezing by him along those narrow streets was a blessing in disguise. Finally, the top three had no choice but to come into the pits to change their incredibly worn tires and it seemed as though each of their engineers had them stack up together to prevent someone behind them taking their place.
You and Daniel watched over the railing as Charles, George, and Max came gliding into the pit lane at the same time and slipped between their markers framed by their assigned mechanics, the Ferrari garage nestled right between the ones of Mercedes and Red Bull. It was a matter of seconds to see who would finish their tire change first and it felt as though everyone on your balcony was holding their breath. There was no fraction of a second that could have been spared in a moment like this.
Ferrari seemed to be on the ball that day - sometimes a rarity - and Charles whizzed away from the garage in an impressive 2.2 seconds with Max pulling up behind him at 2.5 seconds. That only meant that when George pulled out of his pit stop after a painful 3.5 seconds, he was now in third. His displeased comments through the radio broadcast was obvious with his overly dramatic “nooo” quickly followed by a bleeped profanity, although you couldn’t bite back your smile at his silly little accent as he finishing his displeasure with an exasperated, “oh my goodness.”
Charles managed to hold off Max for the following laps although there were too many close calls for comfort that had you physically turning away from the screens with your hands over your eyes. For someone who hadn’t a single clue about anything to do with Formula 1 before the trip, it was certainly easy for you to get into it and your dramatic reactions had Daniel laughing at your obvious change of opinion about the sport. It didn’t take a pro-racer to know that Charles deserved to win his home race more than anything, although maybe it was your inexperience that claimed that Max should share the glory of constant wins. It wasn’t that easy, so you were told.
The last lap had you holding your breath, eyes glued to the grandstand’s screen across the way, watching Charles lean into every curve just enough to keep Max a half pace behind him. And when they came zooming around the corner and along the track in front of you, your entire balcony was screaming his name, drowned out by the sound of the engines and the heartbeat of Monaco behind him.
Eyes glued to the screens for the last curve of the race, the entire country was holding its breath. The Ferrari team emptied from the garage and rushed to the track-side, climbing up on the fences and trees and cheering on the racing red as he sped down the final straight of the race. Max was fire on Charles’ heels, only giving him that spark to push him harder, faster, flying past the checkered flag as the voice of the commentator rang out across the country,
“And he brings it home! Charles Leclerc is the winner of the 2024 Monaco Grand Prix!”
You swore your ears rang with the cheers of the public and the bursts of fireworks over the circuit and the Ferrari garage nearly vibrated with the celebration that immediately ensued. The shouts from the floor below you at the pit wall brought a smile to your face over a team you hardly knew, hardly cared about, and yet you threw yourself into Daniel’s arms in a celebratory hug and he lifted you right off the ground with a beaming grin of his own. Charles’ shouts of joy over his radio broadcast crackled and broke from how loud, full of pure passion and overwhelming emotion from that long awaited, long dreamed about win.
It was a close finish with Max achieving P2 by only a few tenths of a second behind Charles while George managed to keep his P3 with only a few seconds of a gap. Corbyn kept his fourth place finish but through your headset still synced with his channel, you heard him hurriedly ask his engineer where Charles placed before even celebrating his own points scored.
“Charles placed P1 today.”
With a whoop of his own, Corbyn shouted his own adrenaline fused celebration for his teammate, “Yes! That’s my boy!”
The Ferrari employees in the hospitality suite had you return your headsets before they led you all to the opposite side of the building and a terrace balcony, packed like sardines among guests of the other teams to oversee the lively festivities and the end of the race as the remainder of the grid crossed the finish line. You peered down upon team members and mechanics all donning red uniforms, desperate for that first look of your glorious winner, held back only by metal fences. With one final lap completed as the rest of the grid finished their race, the podium finishers finally pulled their cars up to their markers at 1st, 2nd, and 3rd place, respectfully, and Charles took a second as if to compose himself, holding his gloved hands to the front of his helmet in near disbelief. The moment he lifted himself out of his car and stood atop it to greet his hometown crowds, the sound was almost deafening as the balconies and hills were filled with people cheering for him behind the bursts of fireworks, banners with his name fluttering from railings and rooftops. Charles, standing on top of his car still in his helmet, looked up to the sky for a moment and held his hand to his chest, basking in the moment, before he threw his proud fist in the air and jumped onto the pavement and stumbled right over to his team.
As Charles threw himself over the metal fence into the welcoming arms of his team, it nearly brought a tear to your eye at the emotion of it all - and you hadn’t even been around to see his struggles or his hard work throughout his career and the years that led up to it. Your attention was so focused on Charles’ moment that you almost forgot the other podium important winner of the evening as George had emerged from his car behind the 3rd place marker, greeted his team, and finally removed his helmet and passed it over to one of the Mercedes team members there to assist him before tugging off his balaclava to reveal his messy head of light brown hair and earned you your first glimpse of his face. You might not have known much at all about Formula 1 but in that moment it was safe to say you were suddenly quite starstruck.
His hand raked through his matted waves to push his sweaty hair out of his face, revealing the full effect of his handsome existence. His cheeks were flushed the softest pink from the race and his skin was glistening in sweat under the bright lights that lined the track under the early evening sun and his precise jawline flexed with the lick of his lips as he arranged himself out of his racing accessories. What his sunglasses had previously hid during the weekend were the biggest, most angelic aquamarine eyes you had ever seen - aside from Daniel’s brilliant blues - and you swore that they literally sparkled like you were in a scene in a Disney movie, batted behind long, thick eyelashes that would make makeup companies envious. He was a vision.
“Holy shit,” you exhaled, completely unable to tear your gaze away from the handsome stranger as you settled into confirmation rather than your hesitation from earlier that afternoon, “there’s nothing wrong with him.”
Daniel, who was pressed up so close to you in the packed crowd right up against the railing of the balcony with his arm tight around your waist, had already anticipated said confirmation - he knew you too well after all - and he merely smirked at you and pressed a kiss to your cheek. But it was far too busy and far too noisy to even attempt any conversation there and then so he didn’t speak to it, wanting to linger in the moment of celebration that filled the air for the time being. You had all night, after all.
A few official media personnel were right there to quickly interview the top three, beginning with George in P3. You had a perfect line of sight down over the dense crowd to right where he was standing with the interviewer and the modest film crew and the way he spoke into the microphone projected his voice across what felt like the whole city of Monte Carlo. He spoke so eloquently and contently, that wide smile ever present on his face as he reviewed his performance with grace with the interviewer. You clung onto Daniel’s waist a little tighter without realizing, in some sort of trance as you admired the handsome stranger that you were desperate to lay claim upon. Only time would tell.
Although the rest of the grid was back at the pit lane after the race and were there to be weighed and rested for a moment, the podium winners had their post-race processes done in the podium building just outside the track limits while the preparations behind the scene for the podium ceremony were hurried to be set up. With Max and Charles having completed their interviews, the three of them walked together into the building and out of sight, but you managed to catch George’s congratulatory pat to Charles’ back as they disappeared from view.
As you waited for the podium celebration to begin, you took that moment to scan the crowd below and the huddle of photographers and film crew on the terrace a storey or two beneath you, locating Tabitha at the front of them all. She was half squashed by the crowd of grown men with their noisy cameras, but she held her front and centre spot steadfast, her prized camera held securely in hand and ready to go the moment the ceremony would begin. Daniel’s hand didn’t stray from your waist the entire time you waited, holding you close, and between his touch and the anticipation for your exciting plans for later, you were antsy to get out of the crowd and get the night started.
Finally, with the Prince’s Orchestra back in formation on the track below and the Royal Family lined up along the second level of the podium above, the ceremony could commence. The commentator announced George first as P3 and he came out smiling and waving to the crowd in a black Pirelli cap over his messy hair, embroidered with his third place title along the side. You may have applauded a little louder than most in your area but Daniel just held you tighter, like you were his winning trophy. Then, Max was announced for P2 in his own matching embroidered hat and he came out with a few modest waves as he made his way to his tier of the podium. When Charles was announced as the race winner, the city went into uproar. From the large screens projecting the ceremony, you could see the tears shimmering in his eyes as he played it off with a beaming, honest smile and two handed waves to his homeland.
The three of them removed their hats for the national anthem of Monaco to be played by the orchestra and Charles, hands behind his back, held his chin up with a faint smile on his face and his gaze focused upwards as if he were lost in a thought or a memory of his own. After the national anthem, the Royal Family presented the trophies with the first one to Charles, then Max, and then George and photos were taken of the winners together. Once the trophies were set safely to the side, they each reached down to grab their large bottles of champagne they were provided with to pop and spray in celebration, always liking to make a ridiculous mess out of each other in good natured celebratory fun. Max and George seemed to gang up on Charles who ended up turning away with his shoulders to his ears in a beaming grin, trying to escape their bombardment the best he could. But the three of them were plenty soaked by the end of the ceremony and they gathered their trophies and the empty bottles and waved their last goodbyes to the crowd before retiring back inside the building.
Daniel leaned in close to you so you could hear him over the noise of the crowd, “Ready to go?”
You blindly searched for his hand without tearing your eyes away from the shadow of George just inside the glass walls of the podium building, “Yeah.”
Your boyfriend pulled you through the crowd that still hung around the balcony to linger on the excitement of the celebration but you had places to be and people to meet. You followed the same stairs back down to street level that Tabitha had led you up earlier that afternoon and in a bit of a tipsy haze, you burst out into the pit lane in giggles, buzzing from a successful race. Most of the cars were back in the garages by then and the mechanics were back at work and not paying you any mind as the two of you hurried down the empty pit lane hand in hand.
“Race you.” Daniel threatened, not even waiting for your response before he was ripping his hand out of yours and taking off towards the paddock at some attempt of a run.
“Daniel!” you gasped, your voice nearly echoing across the stark emptiness of the once lively track and you ran after him as fast as you could.
Life felt so freeing in that moment, wearing your matching Ferrari shirts donning Corbyn’s number and running over famous Grand Prix streets like you were the drivers of your own destiny, you stretched your arms out wide and let the fresh harbour breeze whizz past you. Your laugh was taken to the ocean, your joy heard and cherished by your boyfriend who suddenly slowed down as he approached the pit lane entrance and he turned around to face you, chest heaving, as he walked backwards for a few steps. You slowed down as you approached him and he held his hands out to you to catch you, sharing in your breathless laughter and wide grin and you leaned in to steal a greedy kiss from his soft lips.
“I love you so much.” you beamed, throwing your arms around his shoulders even as you both walked slowly in step with each other.
“I love you more.” Daniel gave your bum a pat, “Want a piggyback?”
“Yes.”
You let him out of your embrace so he could turn around and crouch down a bit, just enough for you to hold onto his shoulders and jump onto his back. He grasped your shins and pulled your legs around his waist, hopping in place to hike you up a little higher before he was continuing on your journey towards the paddock. You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head against his, letting him carry you across the streets of Monaco to the nearby paddock.
Although the race was over and the grandstands were emptying and the public was going home, the behind the scenes world was still very much lively. The night wasn’t quite over. The podium winners had their press conference to attend while the rest of the drivers would have brief interviews in the media pen to quickly discuss their race performances. Even moreso, each team’s personnel were already on track to taking down their motorhome and garage setups in anticipation for the next destination, no second spared anywhere in Formula 1 - both on the circuit and off.
Once inside the paddock, you and Daniel lingered outside the Ferrari motorhome to wait for Corbyn and Tabitha to meet you so you could start to get ready for the evening’s festivities. Daniel was buzzing to see his best friend and congratulate him on P4 and his hard fight he put out for the full two hours; and the drinks he had consumed throughout the day helped him to literally be bouncing on the balls on his feet as he looked up and down the paddock in search of Corbyn.
Then suddenly, like a beacon in the evening light, Corbyn in his brilliant red Scuderia Ferrari race suit appeared farther down the bustling paddock with Tabitha walking proudly at his side. His suit was unzipped and resting lazily around his waist to reveal his matching long sleeve fireproofs beneath and he donned a match red Ferrari cap over his unruly helmet hair. At the sight of him, Daniel nearly jumped off the ground before making a beeline straight for him and Corbyn broke into a jog to meet him halfway, the two best friends grinning over their own ridiculousness as they met in a hard embrace in the centre of the paddock straight.
“That was fucking amazing, bro!” Daniel praised loudly as they pulled out of their hug and he held a secure grip on Corbyn’s shoulders to give him a little shake, “You are a beast.”
Corbyn laughed bashfully at his best friend’s enthusiasm before replying modestly, “P4’s nothing great, really, but thanks, man.”
“Nothing great? Are you kidding?” Daniel shook him again. “Incredible.”
“Okay,” you grabbed Daniel’s arm as you joined their reunion and your boyfriend took a reluctant step back, “let’s not give the poor guy a concussion.”
“Incredible was Charles’ win today.” Corbyn corrected smoothly, “He’s been waiting so long for that moment…it’s so well deserved, and everyone on the grid knows it. Everyone is fucking buzzing…tonight is going to be insane.”
“Then let’s hurry up and get out of here.” you offered.
“Yeah!” Corbyn agreed, “I just have to change out of this. Gimme a few seconds. Be right back.”
He left Tabitha with a kiss to her cheek before hurrying up the few steps into the Ferrari motorhome to return to his streetwear. It was mostly empty since most of the main crew was still out in the garage or celebrating around the podium so Corbyn wasn’t met with too many distractions on his journey to his driver’s room. Outside, you and Daniel were left with Tabitha who already had her camera equipment packed up in a modest professional bag draped over her shoulder and she asked some expected polite question about how you enjoyed the race.
“I was surprised I caught onto it so quickly.” you confessed, “But I guess it’s repetitive enough to get the jist pretty easily. Did you get any good shots? I saw you at the podium ceremony.”
“Oh, yeah, I think so.” she looked down at her camera bag habitually, “I never look until I get home though so I can see them all properly on my laptop and get to editing.”
“You’re coming tonight though, right?” you asked almost worriedly.
“Yeah, of course. I’m not much of a partier but I think tonight is a special occasion.”
You sighed with a smile, “Phew, I was worried I’d be the only girl.”
“Nah.” she shared a small upturn of her lips with you.
Daniel, as if unable to hold himself back any longer, blurted out, “Corbyn did so amazing, right? That head-to-head with Lando was fucking stellar.”
Tabitha couldn’t help but laugh faintly at not only Daniel’s obvious exuberance but also your picture-worthy expression of playfully-annoyed amusement at your boyfriend’s thrill and she humoured him enough to nod, “Yeah, he’s always amazing.”
You ruffled your hand through Daniel’s hair and gave him a gentle shove of his head, “You’re fucking zazzed and we haven’t even gotten to the party yet.”
“Yeah, but you love me.” Daniel did a little dramatic loop around you before grabbing you around the waist in an attempt to pick you up. Squealing, you ran out of his grasp and around behind Tabitha to put distance between you.
“I do not really want to be in the middle of this.” she stated as the two of you stared over her head at each other, trying to out smart the other in who was going to make a move first.
Ignoring her, you darted around her and dodged Daniel’s reach of his hand out towards you but he grabbed the back of your shirt and yanked you back against his chest, swallowing you up in his arms. You tried to squirm away but he had you tightly, arms locked around you with your back to his chest and his lips pressed a kiss to your cheek and then your neck and you smiled fondly at his affection, even in the middle of the paddock. No one seemed to pay any mind anyway - they were all in their own worlds.
As you waited for Corbyn, standing there wrapped up in Daniel’s arms, your attention was drawn to the sleek black motorhome directly beside Ferrari’s as someone walked out of the front sliding glass doors. George’s teammate was heading out for the evening and his presence in his black Mercedes t-shirt had you silently remembering George himself and wondering what he was up to at that moment. Leaning your head back against Daniel’s shoulder so you could look at Tabitha adjacent to you, you asked your question aloud,
“When are the top three coming out?”
She checked her watch before answering you, “They should be in their media conference by now. They probably won’t be done for a little while.”
Playing it off, you looked back towards the Mercedes motorhome and your eyes followed George’s teammate past you and towards the exit, acknowledging her response with a casual, “Okay.”
Just then, Corbyn emerged from inside and he hopped down the few front steps and joined your group, “Ready?”
You hadn’t noticed Tabitha’s slightly suspicious glance at you thanks to your seemingly random question since you were too busy taking Daniel’s hand and accepting his fleeting kiss. Oh, you were so ready for the night to get started.
You couldn’t make it back to Corbyn’s quick enough despite the fanciness of his sports car in which he navigated the traffic dense streets of Monaco thanks to the Grand Prix shutting down half of the roadways. His modern hillside house welcomed you as the sun dipped lower onwards the horizon and his car locked with a chirp as the four of you climbed the front porch steps and he led you inside. The four of you split up to start to get ready for the party, you and Daniel closing the door to the guest room behind you.
Right away, he was pulling off his Ferrari shirt and tossing it onto the bed while you stalked behind him slowly from a few paces away, finally alone together and thus having your opportunity for a private conversation out in the open. Daniel crouched down to lift his suitcase up from the floor and he set it on the foot of the bed to rifle through a little easier, trying to find something to wear for the yacht party.
“Were you planning on showering before the party?” he asked without looking up. “I feel like I might…I’m a little sweaty.”
“Yeah,” you answered softly, falling to a stop beside him, “we can shower together if you want.”
Daniel looked up at you and licked away his playful smirk at your offer, “Sounds like a great idea.”
When he turned back to his suitcase, you cleared your throat quietly and shifted in place, staring at his profile that was permanently etched in your mind. Your heart was racing with the possibilities of what could ensue that night and although it had been a brief conversation you had with your boyfriend before leaving for this trip, the concept of taking the initiative to bring it up again felt a little shameful.
“So,” you started, “remember what we said before we came here?”
Daniel chuckled, “That’s specific.”
You pressed on, “About finding something wild and spontaneous to do that we normally wouldn’t do at home?”
Still busy rifling through his clothes in his suitcase, he didn’t offer you much more of a response than an encouraging, “Uh huh?”
“I have an idea.” you said.
Daniel glanced up at you, paused a moment as his eyes lingered on yours as if he were trying to read your mind before you could speak a word, but the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips was impossible to miss, “Oh really?”
You knew him well enough by then. He was going to make you say it.
“And what idea might that be?”
“Tonight, at the party,” you started, keeping your voice down so as to not risk Tabitha or Corbyn accidentally overhearing, “I think I want us to ask George if he wants to join us for the night.”
“You think?”
You huffed in half-frustration, sometimes hating the way he pushed you just to see the way you blushed at your own confessions of truth, but you corrected yourself the way he wanted, “I want us to invite George to join us tonight.”
Daniel slid a step closer to you with his eyes lingering on your lips as his hand ghosted over your waist, taunting you a little more, “Join us where?”
“Fuck you.” you laughed lightly behind the heat of your cheeks as you turned your head away from him, “You’re making me nervous.”
“You get all nervous from me looking at you and yet you expect to be all brave and invite another guy to fuck you? You’re gonna get all shy and blushy and mumbly around him and not even be able to get a word out.”
“Will not.” you insisted. “I’ll just need another drink…or two…first.”
“Mhm?” Daniel pulled you closer and you tucked your arms around his body habitually as he stared into your eyes, “How are you going to ask him?”
“I don’t know.” you whispered, “I’ll see how the moment feels.”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” Daniel’s fingers ran up the length of your arms and then down and back up again before he was tucking your hair behind your ears and speaking to you softly, “It’s gonna be so fucking hot watching another man fuck you, knowing he can’t have you because you’re all mine.”
You bit your lip to hide your growing bashful grin at his possessive words and his nose bumped lightly against yours with how close you were. Your fingers scratched gently over the warm skin of his lower back and you slid your hands around his waist to grab onto the belt loops of his jeans to pull him impossibly closer. He let out a sharp exhale against your cheek at your move as his palms cradled your face and the sides of your neck, keeping your eyes on his.
“And if you ever feel like it’s too much, you tell me right away and we stop.” you whispered to him.
Daniel nodded, “I know. You too.”
Your hands ran up his abs and the shape of his figure over his warm skin, feeling his body against yours like that, taunting you with what you were sure to have later. You were already flustered from the way he was looking at you and speaking to you, his voice in that rich low tone that made your knees weak, but the anticipation for the mystery man with the aquamarine eyes and dazzling smile had your insides fluttering impatiently. It was a whole big mess of hormones swirling inside you, desperate to be released. Just a little more waiting.
As if thinking the same thing, Daniel sighed softly, “If we keep standing here staring at each other like this, I’m just gonna have to throw you on this bed and fuck you right now.”
Giggling, you pushed him away from you as you took a step back to leave space between the two of you and you turned for the ensuite bathroom, pulling your shirt over your head as you enticed him, “Come join me in the shower and we can warm up.”
Impressively, your shower was managed without too many wandering hands and intrusive thoughts although your steamy kisses between the shared responsibility of washing certainly didn’t make it easy. Daniel even helped to shave your legs for you and he helped to moisturize your warm skin fresh out of the shower afterwards, leaving you to work on your hair as he got dressed. After drying your hair, you took your time to straighten it and lightly hairspray it in place, making sure there wasn’t a flyaway to be seen.
Daniel lingered in the bathroom doorway as he did up his belt, watching you get ready and how you leaned over the vanity to meticulously apply your light makeup and made sure you finished it off with a sufficient amount of setting spray. Your attention to detail had your boyfriend smiling fondly with a soft shake of his head and he disappeared back into the bedroom to pull on his teal, grey, and white plaid shirt over his white t-shirt. You were right behind him, ridding your towel for your bra and panties and Daniel gave your bum a smack on his way past to take his turn in the bathroom mirror.
Once you were dressed and ready to go, Corbyn and Tabitha had been waiting for you for at least a good thirty minutes downstairs. They certainly had some teasing things to say about you both needing so long to get ready but you weren’t phased - you had very specific plans to prepare for that required extra attention in getting ready. At least they waited until you were done to call the taxi otherwise the poor driver would have been sitting there for a while.
It was just past 10:00 when you arrived at the marina and the once bright blue sky was an inky black, smudged into the rippling water of the sea along the horizon. The lights of Monaco were hard to appreciate from your position on land but as you stepped out of the taxi at the docks, you turned to look over your shoulder at the small city that thrived with nightlife of the rich and famous. You felt both out of your element and right in the middle of it all in the same. Another taxi pulled up beside yours and you waited with Corbyn and Tabitha so they could greet their newly arrived friends.
The young man who stepped out of the car was already all smiles as he saw who was awaiting him, his light brown hair fluffed neatly across his forehead and his light dusting of facial hair trimmed to a modest and tidy length. His smile was big enough to scrunch his eyes shut at the corners and if you didn’t know better, you would think he was part of Fashion Week with his designer attire of a crisp button up under a name brand letterman jacket over ironed slacks. Corbyn met him first with a fist bump and a passing ‘hey, man’ and then Tabitha was greeted by him by name,
“Tabitha,” he nodded in her direction, his words laced through a very obvious French accent, “Hello.”
“Hey, Pierre.” she smiled calmly at him.
“Funny seeing you without a camera on your neck.” he teased lightly.
“You’ve seen me plenty of times without my camera.” she reminded him lightheartedly although he just laughed softly at his own joke before she changed the subject, “Good race today.”
“Not my best, but thank you.” he shrugged, “Very good for Charles.”
“Agreed.”
Corbyn then introduced you and Daniel to Pierre, driver for the Alpine team, and you could remember them from their striking pink branding. Once hellos were shared and the five of you continued down the pier to locate the yacht, you trailed behind with Daniel, hand in hand, and you leaned into him to ask in a whisper, “Is everyone in this damn sport attractive or is the expensive alcohol I’ve consumed today giving me rose coloured glasses?”
“I think the alcohol has worn off.” Daniel reminded you, “So I think everyone’s just attractive.”
“Nice.” you muttered with a shake of your head.
Although the harbour was full of yachts of various sizes, the one that was docked at the end of the pier with all its lights on and already housing a few individuals on its deck that leaked thudding party tunes assured you that there was no question as to your destination. From the top deck, someone shouted down to you as you approached the end of the pier and you all looked up to see the brunette with a wide grin leaning over the railing.
“Oi! Corbyn! My brother! You made it!” he shouted down vivaciously, his already clearly tipsy words jumbled within a thick Australian accent. “Let me come down there and say hello!”
Corbyn turned to look back at you and your boyfriend, preparing you quietly, playfully, “Prepare to meet Daniel Ricciardo, the life of the party and arguably the protagonist of F1 according to the Netflix series.”
Pierre honestly laughed in agreement, lingering a pace behind Corbyn and Tabitha as they started to board. He gestured you and Daniel first to which you thanked him and then accepted your boyfriend’s hand to assist you across the gap to step onboard. By then, the host of the yacht party and ultimately the unofficial greeting committee had made it down to the main deck and Corbyn introduced you.
He shook Daniel’s hand then yours, “Good to meet ya, good to meet ya-” he then went to hold his hand out to Pierre who was behind you but then immediately took it back, “And I already know ya.”
“Good to see you too.” Pierre scoffed lightheartedly before excusing himself to join one of the groups of other drivers standing at the back of the yacht.
“So glad you could make it; the more the merrier!” the host expressed loudly, “Come, lemmy show you around. Give you the grand tour.”
You followed the Australian Daniel farther onto the yacht and through the sliding glass doors into the main interior space that was clad in black trim and dark wood finishes, completed with crisp white leather upholstery that absolutely drooled luxury. The 80” flatscreen along the right wall faced a spacious white sectional sofa and matching dark wood coffee table although everyone lingered outside instead, choosing the natural beauty of the Monaco harbour over television. Up two steps was the dining area with a marble waterfall table for eight that was nestled beside the large paned window overlooking the inky ocean. Just beyond was the small kitchenette and the bridge where the hired captain was preparing for your harbour party once everyone was aboard.
The second deck was the bar area and a few of the other drivers were already up there, helping themselves to the well stocked mini fridge and set up. The host poured you each a drink himself - insisting that he wanted to do the honours - and then walked you to the back of the top deck that overlooked the main deck below. It was a spacious yacht with plenty of outdoor socialization area that the party goers seemed to be making the most of; either lounging on the white upholstered sofas or loitering in little cliques by the water. Standing at the railing on the top deck, you peered down to the modest crowd of men below, trying to pick any words out of their loud conversations behind their mingled accents and the loud music that overtook the yacht.
Everyone looked so nice in their party clothes after only seeing them in uniforms and racewear all weekend and that only made your appreciation for people watching that much more interesting. It was always fun to see what kind of clothes people chose when they had a say. You sipped your drink and stood comfortably under the casual arm of your boyfriend as you chatted with your two friends and awaited the announcement that you were to be setting sail. A few people came past your group to say hello or share a fleeting conversation before moving on to chat with others. You were introduced to a few more drivers that way - some you forgot the names of the moment they were out of earshot - and others you had already met in passing throughout the weekend.
Charles got a huge cheer from the crowd of friends when he arrived on board and his bashful smile was passed around with one armed hugs or fist bumps with his friendly rivals. He was the homerace winner after many years of waiting and praying and although the attention and celebration of such caliber was a little unfamiliar throughout the grid, it was only proof of how much everyone loved Charles and knew he deserved it after all his hardwork and trials and tribulations. He ended up joining your group on the top deck and, already a drink deep, you had just enough courage to compliment his choice of an airy button up shirt that ruffled in the harbour breeze.
Unbeknownst to your friends, however, despite the good company, you were still awaiting someone’s arrival and as the minutes ticked by, you only felt yourself growing more and more antsy. You played it off well, you were sure, trying to use the excuse of admiring the Monaco harbour as your reason for constantly looking in the direction of the pier. But, like a watched pot never boils, your expected guest appeared when you were least expecting him.
The final few missing members of your party arrived around 10:45 and it wasn’t until Lando and his teammate emerged from the staircase that you glanced down to the main deck to see if they had come alone. Sure enough, George was finishing up his round of greetings down below and you kept your shameless gaze on him in his white khakis and t-shirt under a neat navy blue cardigan. His hair was tidied and pushed out of his face in those usual beachy waves as if he had showered and made an effort to clean himself up before the party; maybe that’s why he was a little late. Overall, his attire emitted the essence of the old money style and that was enough to have you struggling to keep your eyes to yourself as you stared him down greedily from the top deck.
Torn away from ogling George for a moment, you paid enough attention to your newly arrived friends and Corbyn held his hand out to Lando as they approached, “Late as always.”
Taking his hand to pull each other into a fleeting one armed hug, Lando answered smoothly, “Had to make an entrance, don’t you know that by now?”
Compared to their angry words from their battle on the track earlier that day, they greeted each other like nothing was wrong. It was a strange realization for both you and Daniel who half expected there to be lingering hostility between the two drivers after their incident, coming to terms to the polar differences from how they acted on track versus face-to-face. It really was an every-man-for-himself game out there but they were mature enough to know when to keep arguments as part of the job and let things slide off their backs.
At the same time, you were introduced to Lando’s teammate, Oscar, who was apparently the youngest on the grid. He definitely looked it, you thought, as his cheeks were reminiscent of a little boy still although he was still a legal adult at twenty-one. Lando, who was boisterous and personable and always up for a chat, seemed to act as Oscar’s emotional support teammate as the younger stood close at his side and simply observed for the first little while. Tabitha seemed to be good at coaxing some conversation out of him and soon he was opening up a little more - with help from a drink that Lando had thrust into his hand.
Only a few moments later, a girl in a flowing floral sundress emerged from the stairs and found her spot beside Oscar with a gentle touch to his back. He looked over at her and he broke into a grin that just took up his whole face before introducing her to the rest of you, “This is my girlfriend, Lily.”
Your heart swelled over the way he looked at her and their youthful puppy-love glances at each other had you ‘aww’ing out loud. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system or maybe it was the nervous energy in the back of your mind that you somehow needed a distraction from, but you couldn’t help yourself but reach out to pinch Oscar’s cheek gently, with a coo of, “You are so freaking cute.”
Lando snorted and turned behind Charles’ shoulder who snickered in amusement at your move. Oscar just blinked at you for a second, processing what just happened, and then he let out a little laugh and gave you a passive thumbs up.
“Thanks.”
Tabitha seemed to have your back in smoothing over what could have easily turned into an awkward moment, “He is the baby of the grid, after all.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Oscar chuckled bashfully.
By then, with everyone on board, the captain came out to announce that it was anchors away and time to head out into the ocean and leave the Monaco coast and your ties to reality behind for the night. As the yacht’s quiet engine rumbled to life and the luxury vessel was steered away from the pier, you let your eyes drift from your little group down to the main deck again, sipping your drink as your eyes were locked on the handsome stranger down below. Daniel’s arm around your waist kept you distracted, however, and once conversation flowed with the drinks, you found yourself focusing more on your boyfriend than anyone else. You were out in open water by then so it wasn’t like George could make any kind of getaway before you could pitch your offer to him.
Your group grew and shrunk as the minutes passed and people mingled and soon, you and Daniel were alone on the top deck lounge. His arm was resting behind you on the railing as the sea air ruffled through his soft curls and his other hand nursed his uncountable drink from that night. The way he looked at you always made your inside flutter but especially then when you were a little tipsy and already a little aroused with anticipation and the lights that trimmed the luxury yacht sparkled in his blue eyes.
“You doing okay?” he asked, just loud enough to be heard over the music in your close proximity.
“Yeah, I’m great.” you nodded.
His arm raised from the railing to wrap around your shoulders and he pulled you into his side and leaned in to kiss your lips once. The gentle sway of the yacht had him leaning into you a little more and your hand reached up to slide around the back of his neck and keep his lips on yours. You shared a few soft kisses before he was giving your bottom lip a little nibble and you gladly opened up for his tongue to nudge against yours.
It seemed to be the standard that you ended up like that at a party, wrapped up together away from the crowd and drunkenly making out until it got a little too heated and you had to either stop or make a quick escape. Even on a yacht of wealthy strangers, nothing could get between the carnal lust you held for your boyfriend and the weakness you felt from his kiss.
Still holding his half-filled glass, he carefully slid that arm around your back and pulled you against his chest as he rested back against the railing of the deck so you were pressed chest to chest. You kept your one hand in the ends of his hair while your other kept to the side with the bottom of your glass resting on top of the railing, your lips moving in perfect harmony with his like always. All day you had been craving some sort of attention to satisfy that peaky lewd need that was burning inside you and even from only a few lingering kisses from Daniel were you already easing into satisfaction.
His arms around you pulled you impossibly closer until you were standing between his legs and he tilted his head a little more to the side to kiss you deeper, licking his way into your mouth until you were groaning happily into his kiss and tightening your fingers in the back of his hair. You could taste the expensive alcohol on his tongue and his love for you on his lips and for a moment you were completely lost in him and only him. With the lights of Monaco sparkling like stars along the hillside in the distance and reflecting in ripples across the dark ocean around you, it was a picture perfect moment of you and him.
And then something had you pulling away from his kiss for a moment to flutter your eyes open and Daniel didn’t miss a beat as he moved his lips down your neck in plentiful open mouthed kisses. Your gaze was pulled from the beautiful city along the horizon down to the main deck that was littered with people who hardly paid you any mind. Well, except for one person, as George was already looking right at you when your eyes landed on him. He was standing in a small circle of some of the other drivers but they were chatting away completely clueless while he seemed much more interested in you and your boyfriend than anything that was being said by his friends. He didn’t look away when you caught him staring, his expression unreadable as he held his glass in his hand and hardly even blinked. His stare was intense and your hand tightened habitually around the back of Daniel’s neck and he trailed his kisses back up to your lips to kiss you properly again, but you kept your eyes open to keep George’s gaze and you couldn’t help the sly smile that came to your lips.
“What are you smiling at?” Daniel chuckled into your mouth.
“He’s watching us.” you whispered, keeping your hand snug at the back of his neck to keep him from turning over his shoulder to see for himself, “Don’t look.”
“What are you wanting to do?” Daniel asked.
“Kiss my neck some more.” you instructed softly.
Never one to deny you that, Daniel ghosted his nose along your jawline and pressed his lips to your neck in a soft kiss before planting another just under your ear. Although it was all a bit of a ploy to get the attention of your mystery man, the sparks that Daniel could cause to shoot across your skin were entirely real and as he licked across your flushed skin just under your ear and left an open mouthed kiss to the same spot, you could feel yourself throb down your jeans. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, just long enough to focus on that beautiful sensation for a few seconds, but when you opened your eyes again and looked back down to the main deck, George was gone from his group.
You pulled away from Daniel in slight confusion and he was finally able to look down to the deck himself without you stopping him. His eyebrows furrowed since it all seemed a little suspicious that you were playing it up that George was there and when he looked, he was actually nowhere to be seen. But before either of you could speak to it, the man you were looking for was emerging from the top of the staircase onto the top deck.
George walked casually across the wood floors towards the bar, offering you both a calm smile and he lifted his empty glass, “Sorry to interrupt. Just getting a refill.”
You and Daniel were still standing at the railing, now side by side, with your arms around each other, right up close, and Daniel didn’t say a word, knowing that this was all your opportunity and he wasn’t going to be the one to take the initiative to initiate a situation that was about you. Instead, he tore his stare away from you to look towards George at the bar, waiting and curious to see what your move would be. Almost as if he were thinking the same, George glanced up at you both across the otherwise vacant deck. The music was loud and the presence of the rest of the partygoers on the yacht was obvious with the lively sound of chatter and laughter from the deck below but, at the same time, your area felt entirely secluded and private.
Knocking back the rest of your drink, you tore yourself away from Daniel and strode across the deck to step under the roof and join George at the bar, your boyfriend trailing behind you. In a fit of alcohol induced bravery, you leaned forward against the bar top opposite this stranger and offered him a warm and flirtatious, “Hey, handsome.”
George, in near shock, looked up at you and then glanced past you to your boyfriend standing just behind you and then, finally, back at you. In reply, he offered a safe, “Hello, there.”
“Saw your win today. I was very impressed.”
George chuckled softly, setting the bottle of whatever he was pouring himself back in the fridge, “Hardly a win. That was all Charles.”
“I dunno…” you shrugged, “I saw a trophy in your hand. That counts as a win to me.”
“I like the way you think.” he complimented with a soft smile, lifting his glass up towards his lips as if anticipating a sip before speaking, “If only it worked like that.”
You watched him take a drink before setting his glass back down on the countertop as he recovered quickly,
“Pardon me. Did you two want refills as well?”
“Would love one, thank you so much. Whatever you’re having.” you slid your glass across the bar and he reached under the counter to find the bottle of whatever he had served himself from the fridge before pouring you your drink. As he did, you asked him innocently, “Did you come here with anyone to celebrate tonight?”
“Nope. Just Alex.” he chuckled, referencing his close friend from one of the other teams that you recalled briefly meeting earlier that weekend. “And Alex brought his girlfriend so I am the third wheel tonight.”
Daniel cleared his throat and turned his head to keep his smirk at bay, lifting his half-full drink up to sip from. He was already too far ahead in your plan for that evening and George’s innocent statement didn’t look like it was going to be solved by your pitch any time soon.
“I see,” you spoke casually, still leaning forward against the side of the bar, you dragged your fingertip around the rim of your glass without taking your eyes off of him, “That’s actually perfect.”
George cocked his head to the side slightly in curious confusion, “How is it perfect?”
“Well, we were wondering,” you spoke slowly, cautiously, a hint of that proud salacious smile in your tone, “if you had no one to help you properly celebrate your podium finish tonight…would you be up to celebrating with us?”
His eyebrows raised slightly, drink held in midair as he processed the meaning behind your words. He licked his lips and then bit them habitually, taking a second to arrange his thoughts before he answered, “And what do you plan on us doing to properly celebrate?”
Oh the warm richness of his voice in that enchanting accent was enough to make you drip. You played it off coolly as you dragged your fingertips up the length of your glass and back down absentmindedly without taking your eyes off his face, answering him with the sweetest innocence, “Well, the three of us can find a spot that’s a little more private than out here and we…I can help you feel like the real winner. I think you deserve that, don’t you?”
Your question put the ball back in his court, pressing him a little more for an answer.
George’s hand looked so big around his glass he was holding and you couldn’t help but glance down to the way his slender fingers held it so tenderly in his grap, your mind already miles ahead of where you were in your plan. You were sure if he said no that you would have to throw yourself overboard with embarrassment and so you nearly held your breath as you watched him ponder your offer. As if knowing he were stringing you along just a little, he lifted the glass up to his lips as he stared at you under faintly furrowed brows and he tossed back the rest of his drink smoothly before setting the empty glass down on the counter with a faint clink.
“Alright,” he cleared his throat lightly and took a step back from the bar, “come on, then.”
You straightened up quickly, trying to keep your shocked grin at bay as you glanced back at Daniel. He finished his drink too and set it down before sending you a knowing smirk as if he knew your plan would succeed, and his hand rested on your lower back to let you follow after George ahead of him. It was hard not to run after him with the excitement that burned within you and you paid extra caution on the stairs as the rocking of the boat made your already tipsy head spin a little more with each step.
Everyone was mingling around the main deck, both inside and outside, but George navigated through the edges of the crowd like he knew where he was going and led the way through the open sliding glass doors into the interior of the main deck. You followed him with a few paces between you while Daniel was directly behind you and your boyfriend’s hand found yours as you walked in a row and moved effortlessly past the obliviousness of the other partygoers. Adjacent to the dining table were the stairs into the depths of the yacht and you followed George casually so as to not draw too much attention to yourself. But your attempt at being blasé about it all was only slightly foiled when you reached the bottom of the tight staircase only to bump into Alex in the narrow hallway.
“Oh.” Alex stopped in his tracks before he could run right into George, “Hello, mate. Where are you all headed?”
As the close friends shared a habitual fist bump, George answered him calmly, “Showing our guests to the toilet, if that’s alright with you.”
“Yeah.” Alex stepped aside and gestured the group of you on, “Yeah, of course.”
“Thanks, mate.” George gave him a pat to his shoulder as you three slipped past him.
You were sure if you looked at Alex you would have given yourself away as if your secret plan was written all over your face in neon lights, so you kept your head down and tried to move past him as quickly as possible despite the tipsy smile that seemed to be every present on your lips. The moment the three of you were past Alex, he was making his way back upstairs to the party, only stopping halfway up to glance back down into the narrow hallway. George’s lie was smooth, but was it believable? You could only hope that Alex was too drunk himself to think much deeper about it.
You had to turn the corner in the direction of the bathroom to move out of the way for Alex but once he had disappeared upstairs again, George slid back to the way you came to reach the shut wood door directly at the bottom landing of the stairs. He tried the handle and it opened with ease and he cocked his head to encourage you both inside.
The cream commercial grade carpet softened your footfalls as you stepped into the surprisingly spacious bedroom that was located in the centre of the yacht’s cabin. Directly ahead of the entrance door was a neatly made king size bed with a sleek black leather headboard that reached the ceiling, the pulled tight duvet complete with throw pillows and a coverlet that was embroidered with the rental company’s luxurious logo. Both sides of the room had horizontal windows overlooking the darkened ocean and through the one to your left, above the built-in lower cabinet storage in that same dark wood detailing that shone in pristine condition throughout the entire yacht, you could see the sparkling coastline of Monaco in the distance. To the right, under the window and wrapping around to the wall you had passed through, was a corner leather window seat in white upholstery that matched those found on the upper decks, topped with throw pillows and concealing dark wood storage drawers beneath.
The room was absolutely handsome if nothing else and you felt as though you were dreaming; the entire weekend being so out of the ordinary for your normal life that it had to have been the only explanation. The click of the door behind you had you turning casually in the centre of the modest size room to face the two men, although your boyfriend drifted curiously to the window, leaning his hands on top of the lower cabinets so he could learn close to the glass and peer out at the twinkling city lights.
“How did you know this room was here?” Daniel asked in near admiration before turning back around to face the two of you.
“I have connections. It’s not important.” George brushed it off, “Besides, you attend enough of these parties and you start to find your way around.”
“You often escape to the bedrooms at parties?” Daniel challenged as he leaned back against the cabinet and crossed his arms over his chest with a coy smirk.
George chuckled modestly, “Here and there.”
“Ever with two people?” you asked.
“Actually, no.” he answered. “This is a first.”
“Us too.” you added.
George peaked a brow at you, “Really? By the way you were coming onto me I would have expected you to be pros.”
“No,” you drew the word out softly, sliding a step closer to him, “I just know what I want and I’m not going to let it pass me by.”
“And what is it that you want?”
His voice was so rich and enticing and he spoke to you in a tone that was gentle but with a firmness to it that had you biting back your restless smile. His slender frame was only two or so inches taller than you but standing right in front of him like that made him feel so much bigger than you. You fought with the intimidation inside of you, trying to lean into that liquid courage that had your chest feeling warm and helping to ease you into a more comfortable reality and facing the existence of your desires that were being dangled right in front of you, just within arm’s reach.
With a soft breath, you answered him, “You.”
“Mhm?” George couldn’t stop staring at you, “And how long have you been sitting on that confession?”
“Since yesterday afternoon.” you admitted, “Since seeing you talking with Tabitha and Charles in the paddock. I thought you were so fucking sexy.”
Your fingers raised quickly to ghost over your lips as if you hadn’t meant to let that last part slip out, wide eyes staring back at him. But George just chuckled warmly, his smile almost bringing you to your knees, and those big aquamarine eyes taking in every little inch of your face.
“I can’t imagine what your boyfriend thought of the idea at first.” he said playfully.
“It was his idea.” you confessed, glancing back at Daniel who was still leaning against the storage cabinets as you continued, “We agreed we’d have some fun on this trip and he said he’d let me pick whomever I wanted.”
You looked back at George and it took all your self control not to reach out and touch him, almost nervous that if you did, he would back out. He had already agreed though and you were sure he wasn’t going to rethink his decision. It was all in your hands to progress this night onwards and everyone in that room knew it.
“And today,” you rambled on, letting the alcohol in your system act as your fearlessness as you finally reached a hand out to testingly nudge the fabric of his open blue cardigan before ghosting your fingertips over his pecs, “seeing you race…and then getting up there on that podium…wish I could have been able to just lick that champagne off of you.”
“Jesus Christ.” George exhaled with a small shutter at your blunt words, “You’re not shy at all, are you, love?”
Daniel answered for you from his spot a few paces away, “Not when she’s tipsy. And she gets fucking horny after a few drinks.”
George skimmed his eyes across your face, agreeing quietly, “Yeah, her cheeks are already so flushed.”
Your palm bravely rested down against his chest and you dragged your hand down his torso to earn your first testing feel of his body. He was similar to Daniel with a slim, lean build, but his athleticism as a professional athlete definitely outshone Daniel’s recreational gym trips and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you felt the taught muscle of his abs through his thin white t-shirt.
“Sweetheart?” Daniel called out to you angelically.
“Yes, sunshine?” you answered obediently without taking your eyes off the exploratory path of your hand moving back up George’s body.
“Do you want to get us started?” Daniel asked.
“Yes, please.”
“Go on then. Gimme a little show, baby.”
Your eyes slowly, slowly slid up George’s body and your fingers followed in the faintest of touches until your fingertips were grazing over his neck and jaw and you could feel him shutter under your hesitant teasing. His skin was so warm and it drew fire across your body as he finally reached out to ghost his hands over your waist and you took a step closer to him, lost in the storm of his eyes and drawn in by the way he licked his alluring lips.
His expensive cologne smelt so good too - his scent tied in with hints of the salty sea air that kissed his skin from the hour on the deck of the luxury yacht - and your head tilted faintly to the side to tempt him closer, feeling his breath against your cheek. He was so close and you were already going fucking crazy stuck lingering in that torturous anticipation, feeling how your boyfriend’s eyes bore into the back of your head from where he stood watching. Shivers tore up your spine as George’s hands slid farther around your hips and rested politely over your back, guiding you gently towards him just as his lips grazed over yours.
Then, as you parted your lips just enough to lock with his in a soft, lingering kiss, you swore sparks of euphoria erupted in the back of your mind. The first kiss was nothing but the tiniest, most innocent testing of the waters but as you broke apart, he was tightening his hands on your waist and pulling your body against his as he leaned in for another. You couldn’t help the small hum of appreciation that slipped from your lips onto his as he kissed you again, lingering together like that again as your hand slid up from his chest to rest on his shoulder. You broke apart again just long enough to go in for a third and as you did, George lifted a hand from your waist to set tenderly on the side of your neck to guide you deeper into your shared kiss and his thumb slid around your throat. His simple move had you tilting your head a little more to deepen your kisses that only seemed to get hungrier by the second as you swayed together with the gentle rocking of the yacht on the restless ocean waves.
George kissed so much differently than Daniel and his lips were plumper which made sinking your teeth into the bottom one just a little more enthralling. He chuckled warmly at your move but pulled you in again by his hand sliding around the back of your neck and tangling in the roots of your hair, locking your lips with his in shiver-worthy kisses. Maybe it was the foreignness of the situation compared to the comfortable familiarity you had with Daniel, but he also seemed a little more gentle than your boyfriend; taking his time with you, making sure you knew you had every ounce of his attention.
God, but he knew how to kiss and that was obvious. You were finally getting what you had wanted all weekend and yet it still didn’t feel like enough, forcing you to wrap your arms right around his shoulders to embrace him closer and pull more from him. His tongue teased your bottom lip gently and you gladly opened up more for him, meeting him halfway for filthier kisses that had you throbbing down your jeans. The muted music from the party going on upstairs was obsolete as your ears were tuned right into the wet sounds of your deepening kisses and your breaths falling as one. George moaned softly into your mouth, a greedy rich sound that you felt throughout your body, and you arched into him habitually with a soft whine of your own and pulled him into you by your arms slung around his shoulders.
His front was almost completely pressed right up against yours but even that didn’t feel like enough as he dropped his hands to your waist and tugged you impossibly closer as his tongue pushed intently against yours. Kissing him back in a clumsy battle of lips and tongues, you moved your hands back to his shoulders to anchor yourself for a moment before breaking away from his mouth to trail impatient kisses down his neck. His warm skin under your lips was invigorating and you breathed him in selfishly as you kissed right up under his ear.
“Fuck.” George breathed to the ceiling as he tilted his head back ever so slightly to give you room, his hands tightening around your waist as you licked up his neck and seemed to reach all the spots that made him shiver.
From across the room and still leaning casually against the cabinetry, Daniel spoke again, “Good girl, baby. You’re just fucking throwing yourself at him.”
Words were a waste of precious time so you simply replied with an agreeable hum against George’s neck between open mouthed kisses that you moved down towards the collar of his t-shirt. Your hands slid down from his shoulders to caress his chest over his clothes and you stole a few more kisses from his lips as you pushed his navy blue cardigan off his shoulders and to the floor. He helped to shrug it off and get his arms out and before he was even completely out of it, you were already peppering hurried kisses down his chest and over his abs that were hidden under his t-shirt before you sank yourself all the way down to your knees in front of him.
Not wasting a second, you untucked his t-shirt from his pants and shoved up the bottom of it to get your first peek at his body, leaning in to press your lips just above his navel and kissing right down between his firm abs to the waistband of his jeans. You raised your eyes up to him, staring up at him with your bottom lip between your teeth as you pulled the leather of his belt through the buckle and tugged at it hard to get it unpinned, making him have to take a half step towards you to keep from falling over at your aggression.
“Christ.” he groaned lowly as he stared down at you, wide eyed, “You’re so desperate for it, aren’t you?”
You left his belt open so you could focus on popping the button on his jeans all while staring up at him with a sweet smile that was so incredibly hard to hide, only giving him a nod.
“Use your words.” Daniel reminded you firmly from a few paces away, “Show him what a good girl you are.”
You licked away your smile, still peering up at the handsome stranger that was quickly becoming less than a mystery to you as you rested on your knees for him, your careful fingers tugging down the zipper of his pants as you confessed up to him softly, “I’m so fucking desperate for your cock.”
Although his breath shuttered at your blunt words, he played it off with a brush of his fingers through your hair and a taunting, “Yeah? You wanna suck it for me, darling?”
“Please, can I?” you asked sweetly.
“Go on then.” he permitted.
He was so tall that you had you sit up on your knees with your posture perfectly straight to reach him comfortably but that fact only had you grinning excitedly as you tugged open the fly of his white jeans and then grabbed hold of the waistband of his pants and his underwear at the same time to yank them down together. You could almost hear the thudding of your heart over the muffled music and chatter coming from the deck above but your attention was all too focused on what you had been fantasizing about all weekend. Before this, the only man you had ever been with was Daniel. He was your first and your only, but even as you delved into a world of experimentation together, simply having him keeping a watchful eye from across the room was reassuring enough for you as you earned your first look at a man who was not him.
“Oh my God.” you exhaled, hands still grasping onto the waistband of George’s pants as you took a moment to just stare at him.
Neatly trimmed and kept, he was already somewhat hard and was at least somewhat bigger than Daniel. Not that you minded or made a point to speak to it, but the intimidation factor was certainly all encompassing of this man in front of you from his dazzling eyes and model height to the impressive dick that, tonight, was all yours. You hesitated, as if forgetting all your plentiful prior experience you had with your boyfriend, simply gaping at George’s dick in your face.
Daniel, who knew you better than anyone, was easily there with the save, “I think he’s waiting for you to touch it, sweetheart.”
You giggled shyly and moved your right hand away from his fly to gently wrap around the base of his heavy cock and you stuck out your tongue and leaned in to lick at the tip teasingly. George’s hand pushed through your hair again to get your bangs out of your face and his soft exhale had you dragging your tongue right up the side of his dick without tearing your eyes away from his.
“That’s my good girl.” Daniel praised honestly, dropping a hand down to adjust himself over his pants, “Now wrap those pretty little lips around him and show him what you can do.”
You tore your eyes away from your handsome stranger to look at your task at hand as you pursed your lips to dribble some spit down onto the head of his cock. Your hand gave him a few lazy strokes to slick your palm up in it as you shuffled a little closer on your knees and you pressed a tender kiss right to the tip before slowly guiding him into your mouth. Feeling the warm weight of his cock against your tongue had your eyes fluttering shut with a soft moan as you sunk your mouth around him farther.
George took in a sharp breath through his teeth and his hand tightened in your hair, staring down at your mouth wrapped around his cock and he used his other hand to pull the hem of his shirt up and out of your way. He then licked his lips habitually before speaking to you in a voice as smooth as butter, “You are such a good girl, aren’t you?”
You hummed around him softly in agreement before starting to pull your mouth back before moving down again, all while your right hand was keeping him in place for you. You could feel him getting harder in your mouth, swelling up against your tongue, and it was a feeling that had you salivating; the proof of which being the way your spit slipped past your lips and leaked down the shaft of his cock to your hand wrapped around the base.
After a few seconds, you pulled off him to take a breath - and to get a real, proper look at him - as your hand picked up the slack. It was true, what you had said earlier, that there was absolutely nothing wrong with this man; there was not a damn inch on his body that had even an atom of ugly and it blew your goddamn mind into nothing more than buzz of humanistic arousal. You couldn’t help the bite of your lip as you stared at your hand pumping his cock with steady flicks of your wrist as if you were trying to memorize the sight of him like that. Your weekend fling, that was that. You were going to have one and only one glorious night with this man so you knew you needed to make the most of it and make it count.
So you took his dick back in your mouth and nestled yourself down until your lips met your fist and when you pulled back, you hollowed your cheeks greedily to earn yourself a pretty moan from his chest. The sound went right between your legs and encouraged you to repeat that action just to hear more of him. Only a few strokes in and the modest bedroom was easily welcoming the sloppy sounds of your mouth taking him in steady bobs of your head, forcing more spit to drip from your mouth and down your chin. You never minded being messy with it.
Daniel from his spot across the room, was indiscreetly palming himself over his jeans with his gaze focused all on you and he spoke to you in a coo, “Look at you, sweetheart, you have a millionaire’s dick in your mouth. How's that feel?”
You could feel your cheeks heat up more than they already were but you didn’t want to lose out on a second with George’s cock in your mouth so all you gave your boyfriend in reply was a pleased moan in agreement.
“Really good, hm?” George taunted cockily, lifting his other hand to help keep your hair back as he kept his gaze all on you and the rhythmic strokes of your mouth you offered him. He bit his bottom lip through a faint groan with both of his large hands wrapped around your hair in a sort of messy makeshift ponytail that certainly was messing up your curls that you had meticulously worked on before coming to the party. You didn’t mind, however, as you were more than willing to let him ruin you however he pleased, and that only seemed to be working in your favour as he let another soft moan slip past his lips before complimenting you honestly, “You’re a fucking goddess.”
But maybe that was just stemmed from the fact you had his cock in your mouth.
You started to move your hand in twisting strokes at the same pace of your mouth taking half of him against your tongue over and over, desperate to bring him pleasure and show off how good you could be. With both of his hands in your hair, his shirt had fallen back into place and you took the initiative with your left hand to link your thumb under the hem and slide your palm up his body to hold it out of your way. The firm muscle of his abdomen had you hungry for more of him as you sucked on his cock in messy slurps.
Suddenly, the yacht swayed a little more than usual over a rougher wave and between that, the alcohol in his system, and his pants around his knees, George stumbled slightly with a, “Shit.”
You pressed your hand a little harder against his abs, instructing him with a gentle, “Lean against the door.”
He glanced behind him and then took the two steps back so he was resting flat against the locked door and as you shuffled on your knees to take your place in front of him again, he pulled his shirt up and over his head. You forced yourself to take a second to admire his bare torso as your hand stroked his dick in the meantime, wide eyes nearly turning into hearts at the sight of him and his vast expanse of soft caramel skin. The position felt so much more invigorating to have him sandwiched between the door and you and it gave you a flicker of powerfulness in your chest, especially as you got a whimper out of him as you finally sunk your mouth down on him again. George’s hands tangled in your hair again and as he fell into his own familiarity with the situation, he gently started to guide your motions a little deeper.
“Can you take more, darling?” he purred angelically.
Daniel answered for you, “She can. Honestly, just use her mouth all you want.”
Almost disbelieving, George looked over at him with slightly furrowed brows, “Really?”
“If it’s too much, she’ll tap out three times on your thigh.” Daniel assured him, “She likes it. Don’t you, baby?”
You pulled off George’s cock with a messy slurp and glanced over at Daniel as you smeared your spitty lips over the length of it before answering, “Yes, sir.”
“So you better tell him that then.”
You tore your eyes away from your boyfriend to bat your eyelashes up at the man you were on your knees for and with your hand snugly holding his dick against your mouth, you asked of him angelically, “Please can you fuck my throat?”
“Such good manners.” George praised warmly as his hands in your hair guided you in again.
You didn’t hesitate before opening up to take his dick in your mouth again as you set your hands on his thighs for balance. He then slowly started to take control of your head as he pulled you into shallow motions to start you off, his breaths falling in time with your rhythm. But you were impatient and desperately wanting more, so you took the initiative yourself and forced yourself deeper on him until you gagged yourself on him. He took the hint to tighten his hands in your hair and keep you at that greedy depth as he started to nudge his hips towards you, forcing another wet gag from your throat. Your fingers dug into his thighs but you didn’t complain about the slight discomfort that came with the responsibility.
“Fuck, you’re such a good girl.” George groaned tightly, fingers locked in your hair just tight enough to keep a snug pull at your scalp that made you moan messily around him.
You tried to look up at him but the tears that burned your eyes made your vision blurry and you scrunched your eyes closed instead, putting your focus on staying right where he needed you. The sounds were horribly lewd and if you were a bit more sober you might have worried that anyone who walked past the door out in the hallway would be able to hear the gasping wet gags of your throat with his every thrust into your mouth. Maybe the music was loud enough to conceal you.
After a few more seconds, you were tapping out on his thigh and he loosened his grip on your hair so you could pull back with a messy cough, spit dripping down your chin and still connecting your lips to his cock as you blinked your teary eyes up at him. He wiped your mouth with his thumb and then slipped it past your lips, earning a pleasant moan of appreciation out of you and your eyes fluttered shut as you sucked on his thumb for a moment.
George tisked from above you, “You’re fucking incredible.”
Daniel’s hands on your shoulders startled you slightly but he just leaned down and grabbed the bottom of your shirt to pull it up and over your head, leaving you in your bra and your jeans on your knees. George’s fingers fell into your hair again as you wrapped a hand around his cock and leaned in to happily swirl your tongue around the head while Daniel crouched behind you and reached around your waist to unbutton your jeans.
“I think you deserve a turn now, sweetheart.” he cooed against your ear.
His warm breath sent shivers down your spine and you pulled your mouth away from George to turn your head back towards your boyfriend situated behind you to meet him for a kiss. Daniel lifted a hand up to cradle your jaw as your lips locked in sloppy tongue-led kisses just like second nature, while your grip was still secure around George’s dick in front of you and you gave him a few gentle strokes. His hand was still in your hair and he stroked your head faintly as he watched the way you kissed your boyfriend right in front of him just like he had back upstairs at the party. But now he had the added bonus of your hand on him, touching him so perfectly in twisting tugs that had his bottom lip between his teeth, while his eyes drifted downwards to watch Daniel’s hand slip down the front of your unbuttoned jeans.
Daniel groaned into your mouth, “You’re so fucking wet for us already, baby.”
You pulled away from your boyfriend’s lips with a withering moan only to peer right up at George above you as if to subconsciously see if he was watching you. Of course he was; dead focused on the disappearance of Daniel’s hand down your pants and the way your hips moved ever so slightly against his touch. Even as you succumbed to the pleasure of your boyfriend's touch, you couldn’t get enough of your handsome stranger as you leaned in to wrap your lips around his cock and suck on him lazily, letting him feel the sweet moans from your mouth right up against him.
“Wanna let me go down on you?” George asked with another rake of his fingers through your hair, “Is that alright?”
Daniel’s low chuckle from behind you had you pulling back from George’s cock, licking your lips as you peered up at him again and let your body mould against Daniel’s chest right behind you. Your head was spinning and you could hardly form a thought as your brain raced a mile a minute.
“You wanna say yes so bad, don’t you?” Daniel taunted softly against your ear, that cocky smile on his face, “Say it. Then I can get you out of these pesky clothes and hold your fucking legs open for him. Do you want that?”
“Yes.” you breathed without tearing your eyes away from George’s face.
“What was that?” George brushed the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip, speaking to you in that warm voice of his that seemed to have perfected the art of feigning innocence although the weight behind his every word was very present, “Speak up.”
“Yes, please.” you repeated a little louder.
Daniel helped you to your feet and then tugged your jeans down while George, too, got out of his pants that had lingered around his knees for the last little while. In only your bra and underwear - a nice set that you had meticulously packed and chosen for this exact moment with help from your boyfriend’s input - Daniel led you over to the window seat by your hand and he sat himself down first, right in the corner, and then hurried to pull off his plaid shirt and then his white t-shirt, tossing both to the growing pile on the carpeted floor. He patted his thigh and you turned to sit yourself down on his lap, a position quite familiar to you, and although the denim of his jeans was less than ideal compared to how the warmth of his skin against yours would have felt, you had alternate priorities at that moment.
Sitting there on your boyfriend’s lap in the corner of the room, you had your first proper look at George’s naked body as he finished stripping completely and was making his way over to you. You shifted in place on Daniel’s lap and leaned back against his chest with a smile you couldn’t bite away, eyeing up the endless expanse of beautifully smooth caramel skin of the chiseled stranger in front of you. Between the sight of him in addition to the soft groan Daniel let out against your shoulder at your movements on his lap, you were already naturally spreading your legs at the ready.
“Hang on,” Daniel mumbled, guiding you off him long enough for him to give up on his jeans and he shoved them down his thighs and kicked them to the floor before pulling you back down, “That’s better. You comfortable?”
“Yeah.” you answered softly without tearing your eyes away from the man in front of you who resembled that of a Greek God. You licked your lips habitually at the sight of him and your hand slid down between your parted legs to rub yourself over your underwear for a moment, trying to ease that pesky ache.
George nudged your hand away as he sank down to the floor in front of you, right between Daniel’s legs which were, ultimately, keeping your legs open too. With a gentle hand, George dragged two fingers along the fabric of your panties right down the center, and his eyebrows raised slightly at the feeling of how aroused you already were.
“You’ve ruined these.” he exhaled, “Naughty girl.”
The way his accent sounded when he called you that had your head dropping back with a tight groan, definitely giving Daniel a facefull of your hair but he didn’t mind. Your boyfriend swiped your hair over your opposite shoulder so he could watch too, paying close attention to the way George’s large hands slid along your legs and how his lips ghosted over your inner thighs. You shivered on his lap and Daniel kissed your neck, trailing his fingers over your waist and up to your chest, playing with the lace of your bra that followed the curve of your breasts.
Playing on George’s words, Daniel whispered against your ear, “Yeah, you’re our naughty little slut, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir.” you whimpered as you succumbed to your intrusive thoughts and reached a hand down to rake through George’s soft brunette waves.
Drawing his attention from the fleeting kisses he left over your thigh, his eyes raised to yours and he offered you a little wink from between your legs. He could tell you were antsy and he, himself, didn’t want to wait much longer either so he linked his fingers in the sides of your underwear and pulled them down your legs, watching carefully to see how the thin lace fabric stuck to your pussy for a moment thanks to the wetness you were leaking.
Once your underwear was discarded to the floor, Daniel linked his hands under your thighs and spread your legs for you, so much so that you had to fall back against his chest to be able to sit comfortably. Your cheeks were flushed in slight nervousness over the fact that you were now spread open and vulnerable for a stranger but the liquid courage in your system helped to ease any slight embarrassment until it vanished the moment George got his hands on you. His soft caress of your pussy with two fingers was quickly followed by a ghostly kiss to your clit just before his tongue was dropping out to earn his first taste of you.
You were already so sensitive that the first touch had your legs twitching from where Daniel held them and your soft squeak was almost completely involuntary. Despite your slight shyness, you couldn’t tear your attention away from the man between your legs, even as his big blue eyes raised to meet your gaze in time with another slow, teasing lick. Your hand was still in his hair and it only tightened its grip as you tried to pull him in for more, desperate for some sort of friction to soothe that ache.
“Good girl, sweetheart.” Daniel cooed against your ear, “Not even shying away. Look at you pulling him in.”
George set his hands on the backs of your thighs as Daniel held them out of his way for him, holding himself between your legs as his tongue slid between your lips in slow, full licks that had your toes curling. Your impatient hum had George smiling against you for a moment until he dragged his tongue up to your clit and swirled around it tauntingly.
“Fuck.” you whined, trying to nudge your hips up against his face.
“Isn’t this my celebration?” George retorted cockily at your greedy move, his warm breath fanning across your wet cunt and the feeling made you shiver, “So we do things my way, yeah?”
You exhaled your muttered agreement, “Yeah.”
“Good girl.” he winked before moving back down to slip his tongue inside you.
You groaned tightly as his nose bumped against your clit perfectly, just stimulating you enough to want more, and your fingers tightened in his hair to tug at it harder. The slight aggression from you had him moaning against your pussy and he pulled away just enough to spit loudly onto your glistening lips and make it messier.
“It’s like he knows just what you like.” Daniel chuckled softly, his head right beside yours. He lifted his hand up to wrap around your throat to give you a bit of pressure as you both stared down at the pretty brunette between your legs.
George’s eyes were all on you as if dead set on gauging your every slight reaction to his every slight movement, but his blinks were slower as he struggled to not shut his eyes and lose himself in you, instead letting his long lashes kiss his cheeks before opening up again. His tongue nudged inside you in purposeful motions and alternated with long licks right up to your clit and back down. He was taking in every inch of you with his mouth all without taking his eyes off of yours and it made you squirm.
From your spot on Daniel’s lap and leaning against his chest, you could feel his dick against the small of your back and even though he was still wearing his boxers, you could feel how hard he was already. You were sandwiched between the two handsomest men in the world, you were sure, and you mouthed a silent ‘oh my God’ to the room at the realization of your reality.
Daniel, with his hand still around your throat, guided your head back onto his shoulder so he could kiss your lips. Having the privilege of both kisses and oral at the same time was unheard of for you and it nearly sent shockwaves throughout your body, urging you to share your appreciation through pleasant moans into your boyfriend’s mouth. His tongue fought its way into your mouth between sloppy kisses and your free hand reached back to tug at the brunette curls at the nape of his neck to keep him where you wanted him. Your head was fucking spinning - although that may have been thanks to the sway of the yacht that only intensified the dizziness of your pleasure.
Your breath was falling shallower by the second and forcing you to break away from Daniel’s lips, urging his face into your neck instead as he kissed over your flushed skin. George dragged his tongue right up to your clit and lapped at it gently, even the slightest touch having your legs try to close at the growing sensations. Daniel’s hands grabbed your thighs again and pulled them farther back, his fingertips pressing indentations into your flesh as he held you open for George’s tongue.
“That’s it, baby.” Daniel praised against your cheek, “You’re doing so good for us.”
George pulled away from you just long enough to slip his middle finger in his mouth to wet it before teasing it across your pussy and finally sinking it inside you. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you stared down between your spread legs to watch his slender finger disappear inside you just as his tongue met your clit again. You jolted at his touch, earning a warm chuckle out of him right up against your body and your head fell back against Daniel’s shoulder.
“Sit nice and still for him.” Daniel warned you gently.
“It’s hard.” you whimpered.
“Yeah?” Daniel cooed, “Feels really good, huh?”
As if appreciating your praise, George slowly added a second finger inside you and as he did so, your mouth dropped open with a soft gasp and you heaved your head up from Daniel’s shoulder to look down at him. He couldn’t stop staring at you as his tongue lapped at your clit and his fingers thrusted firmly inside you, reaching only about halfway just to try and find that perfect little spot. You dropped your hand from the back of Daniel’s neck to join your other in George’s hair, unable to hold back the tumbling of moans that spilled past your lips as you tugged at those heavenly soft brunette waves.
He was a fucking prince and he certainly treated you like a queen, catering to your every need without even having to ask. You swore he was unreal, that he was some magnificent man written by the hand of a woman; that had to have been the only explanation to how he could make you see stars so effortlessly.
The lewd wet sound of his tongue on you and his fingers nudging inside your dripping cunt paired beautifully with his low moan stemmed from your hands tugging at his hair, his eyebrows furrowing slightly in equal parts concentration and his own pleasure. The vibration from his mouth had you gasping and Daniel’s hands gripped your thighs harder to keep you spread wide as your muscles worked against him to try and close yourself up in overwhelm. It was hard to smother your whimpers through your bitten lip and part of you didn’t want to; ignorant to the memory of the party going on above you or the fact that anyone could be walking by the room to locate the bathroom at any given moment. Your priorities were far away from what was deemed socially acceptable as guests on this yacht and amongst this group of wealthy and illustrious individuals.
Writhing on Daniel’s lap and against George’s mouth, you arched against your boyfriend’s shoulder and pleaded to the air softly, “Can I cum?”
“That’s up to our podium winner here. He decides when you cum tonight.” Daniel told you.
George didn’t correct him on the technicality that he wasn’t actually the winner because in that moment it sure fucking felt like he might have been.
Keeping his fingers moving at that consistently strong pace, he answered you softly right up against your pussy, his hot breath fanning against your slick skin and his words muffled slightly by your body, “Yeah, you can cum for me, darling.”
Your fingers tugged at his hair to keep his face between your spread legs, your chin held down to your chest as you desperately chased that taunting orgasm that was building inside you quickly. If you had any care at that moment, you were sure you would have looked ridiculous in such a position with your face screwed up in pure pleasure, but all that mattered to you in that moment was doing anything that would get you over those blissful waves. George was certainly making it easy as he didn’t dare move from his spot, keeping his two fingers right where you wanted them and his tongue flicked mercilessly at your swollen clit until he could feel you start to clench around his fingers.
“Mhm.” he mumbled against you encouragingly, staring up at your flushed face and gaping mouth.
“That’s my girl.” Daniel praised from beside you, “Show him what a good fucking girl you are and cum all over his fucking face.”
“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes-” you squealed, letting yourself stumble out nonsense as that burning tight pleasure grew hotter and hotter.
And the feeling burst inside you like a pop of champagne and your head tossed back against Daniel’s shoulder with a strangled cry, eyes screwed shut, fingers locked in a white-knuckled grip in George’s soft hair as you creamed around his slender fingers. He licked up everything you offered him right through your orgasm, moaning greedily against you as his tongue joined his fingers and he worked you through it, all while your boyfriend praised you strongly against your ear in filthy words you could hardly even make sense of in such a state. Your legs trembled from where Daniel held them out, nearly vibrating, and you whimpered loudly to the ceiling with ears ringing faintly from the sudden intensity of it.
“Holy shit.” you gasped out of it. You took a hand from George’s hair to push through your own to get the messy strands out of your face and wipe your eyes that were brimming with unshed tears.
“Good girl, baby.” Daniel kissed your neck, gently setting your legs down to he could wrap his arms around your middle as he trailed kisses over your skin, “That was so fucking hot.”
From between your legs, George pulled his fingers out of you and slipped them into his mouth to suck clean for a moment before turning his head to press a lingering kiss to your inner thigh, followed by another alongside a soft groan as he spoke up to you, “You taste incredible.”
“Doesn’t she?” Daniel boasted with a proud smirk.
George leaned in for one more gentle lick at your swollen pussy and one more wet kiss - your body flinching with a soft whine in oversensitivity at his fleeting touches - before he was standing up in front of you, taking a second to wipe his glistening mouth before holding out his hand towards you, “Come on. I’m not quite done with you yet.”
You wouldn’t dream of declining him and you set your hand in his and let him help you off Daniel’s lap before leading you over to the bed. You took the initiative to turn yourself around and sit on the edge of the mattress before scooting back a little, reaching to grab George by the back of his neck to pull him after you. He followed your insistent lead to lock your lips in a well deserved kiss as he blindly followed you onto the bed until you were both situated near the middle. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, the undertones of possession setting your mind ablaze as you moaned into his mouth and your body tried to arch against him. But from where he was positioned half beside you and half in front of you, touching wasn’t all that simple.
Instead, George pulled away from your lips to move his kisses down your neck and over your collarbones while one hand slid behind your back to unclip your bra and toss it to the floor. You were pleasantly surprised at his secret skill of undoing it blind and one-handed and you glanced past him to Daniel still sitting where you had left him in the corner of the window seat, sharing silent impressed glances. George’s mouth on your breasts had your mouth falling open and your attention pulling back to him instead of your boyfriend, giving him a pleasant groan as he licked and sucked over one of your nipples while the other was tended to by his fingers.
“Oh my God, you’re perfect.” you exhaled shakily, sliding your fingers into the back of his messy brunette waves.
He laughed ever so faintly in response as he switched over to your other breast, covering you in wet kisses before taking your nipple in his mouth again. Your head fell backwards with a moan to the ceiling, having already come once but still wanting more from him.
George didn’t make you wait much longer as he pulled away from your breast with a soft pop and then smoothly leaned in towards your lips. Your tongues met first as your heads tilted naturally to lead you into filthy kisses, probably swapping too much spit in the process but by that point in the night you were well past acquainted. You barely had moved your hands to cradle his face in your palms when he was pulling away again and sitting back from you on his knees.
“Turn around for me, love.”
It was almost embarrassing how easy you flipped yourself around onto your hands and knees at his simple request. You often found it fun to push Daniel’s buttons and purposefully ignore his demands but, with George, his voice held this power over you that had you succumbing to his every wish effortlessly. Without being asked, you bent forward at the waist to rest your forearms on the bed and leave your ass up for him, giving him a little taunting wiggle.
His warm hand caressed the curve of your ass and he asked warmly, “Can I spank you?”
“Yeah.” you answered, “Only if you hit me hard though.”
As if in reply to your rule, George’s hand came down hard against your flesh, the sharp sound nearly echoing through the modest bedroom, and he followed it up with a taunting, “Naughty girl.”
You turned your head to the left to be able to see your boyfriend a few paces away, still lounged back in the corner of the window seat with his underwear pushed down just enough to get his cock out and his hand was already gently stroking himself. He licked his lips at the sight of you catching his eye and, as if more than willing to put on a show for him, you threw a request back to George, “Spank me again.”
“Yeah?” he smacked his hand down against one cheek and then the other, his strength apparent by the impact and the tingling sensation his palm left behind across your flesh. “You really are a slut, hm?”
“And I’m your slut tonight, sir.” you answered playfully, wiggling your ass back against him to earn you another spank.
Hearing you using his title to address another man had Daniel’s eyebrows furrowing slightly as he watched the scene in front of him unfold but he didn’t intervene. You could tell it got to him slightly by the way he shifted on the window seat and you licked away your sly grin, glancing over your shoulder at George behind you. He reached over to grab your cheeks in his hand and he leaned over you to kiss your lips, pressing right up close to you and you could feel his hard cock right up against your sensitive pussy.
“Holy shit.” you groaned into his kisses, breathless as he broke away from you.
“Do you have a condom with you?” George asked the both of you.
In all honesty, out of all your meticulous preparation, it had slipped your mind, and you looked over at Daniel with wide eyes in realization. He looked just as startled for a moment before turning it back to you,
“Your choice, sweetheart.”
You could only grin before directing to George, “We don’t…but you can just pull out. Is that okay with you?”
“Oh, blimey-” George was clearly taken aback by your statement for a moment, “If you’re sure.”
“I’m very sure.” you assured him easily.
He looked over at Daniel as if needed reassurance from him that it was okay that he fucked his girlfriend raw, but Daniel just tilted his head up slightly with a casual, “Go on; fuck her brains out.”
Your soft giggle had George looking at you again, bent over at the waist in front of him and so ready and willing. You were sure you never craved something more in your life; you had already come once but you wanted to feel all of him and really make the most out of your once-in-a-lifetime weekend plan. The feeling of his firm hands caressing over your ass again before giving you another passing spank had you whining impatiently. He then carefully dragged the head of his cock between your legs, slipping across your slick cunt and teasing you cruelly, just to watch how your body shuttered in anticipation for him.
“I want to hear you say it.” he ordered softly, his low voice thick with lust.
“Fuck me.” you pleaded sweetly in a gentle whisper, all too focused on his every taunting move behind you and every slight dip of the mattress.
“Louder.” George insisted, tapping his dick against your cunt just to hear the filthy wet slaps from how fucking wet you were. You could feel it dripping down your legs and you just wanted him to scoop it up and fuck it back into you, dammit.
With a huff, you tried again, “Please fuck me.”
“I still couldn’t quite hear that.” he tutted, his voice smooth and gentle in that angelic accent of his but the undertones of sterness were apparent, as if he had a demand to be heard and obeyed, “Come, now. Use your words.”
“My God, you’re cocky.” you mumbled weakly towards the sheets despite the lingering smile across your lips at that fact before giving into his demand with a firmly spoken, “Please can you fuck me?”
“Of course.” he cooed, running his palm up your spine and then back down as his other hand angled the tip of his cock right against your pussy, “You simply had to ask.”
You didn’t have an opportunity to offer any sort of witty rebuttal as he took that moment to sink inside you slowly. Your expression fluttered along that perfect balance of pain and pleasure and your fingers grasped onto the tightly pulled duvet to clutch some of the fabric desperately. The whimper that fell from your lips had George hushing you warmly as his hands took to your hips and he gave you a little squeeze as he pushed deeper inside you so cautiously.
“Good girl. This what you wanted?” he purred.
“Yeah.” you exhaled, “Thank you, sir.”
Across the room, Daniel watched with a firm stare as this stranger filled you up and received the privilege of that filthy title that was usually meant only for him. Daniel never pinned himself to be an insecure man and it was this fact that led him to understand his comfort for allowing a weekend plan like this to happen. Even in a moment like this, watching you be taken by another man right in front of him, he was unfazed. Your words were spoken out of habitual pleasure and your needs were nothing more than physical desire. Your heart still belonged entirely to him. It was his bed you were falling into at the end of every night. He was the one who could fuck you whenever he pleased - no strategic plan necessary. Yeah, George was the winner that night but Daniel knew he was the winner every night solely for the fact that he was the one who had you.
That fact was only solidified the moment your eyes locked on his from across the room, always finding him at any given moment, wanting to stare at him even as you were about to be fucked by another man. It was a whole new angle for Daniel and one he couldn’t seem to get enough of. He shifted on the window seat to push his boxers all the way off before lounging back against the cushions and he spit in his palm to help stroke his dick a little easier.
George, with his hands grabbing your hips, had filled you completely, stalling a moment with his cock buried entirely inside you and able to feel every last inch of your body hugging him so tightly. The angelic moan you let out as he bottomed out had his expression furrowing for a second as he forced himself to hold back for a moment, hands squeezing your hips to keep your ass right up against his body so there was absolutely no space between you. The gentle rocking of the yacht seemed to help get in started, pulling out of you only about halfway before easing into you again, finding a slow pace to get you used to him. You definitely appreciated that since he was entirely different from Daniel and your inexperience that came from your lack of quantity of lovers had you still slightly hesitant.
But it wasn’t long at all before you were easing into the feeling with your body starting to accommodate him a little better, and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip without tearing your eyes away from your boyfriend who was lazily stroking his cock and watching you both so intently. You started to push your ass back into George’s motions to meet him halfway, giving enough strength to start to have your sweaty skin clap together with each movement, and he groaned lowly with a two handed squeeze of your ass, punctuating it with a sharp spank to one of your cheeks.
“Yes.” you breathed dreamily, “Gimme more.”
“Naughty girl.” George taunted, giving you another spank as he started to thrust into you faster.
You squealed lightly at the growing intensity and tightened your grip on the sheets beneath you, letting yourself moan for him freely with your lip still captured by your teeth. It still wasn’t enough and you kept pushing back on him at that same pace to try and get him going.
“More.” you insisted, looking back at him over your shoulder, “Fuck me hard.”
Speaking up from across the room, your boyfriend guided him, “Pull her hair, bro. Do what you want to her.”
“Yeah,” you giggled in agreement, “this is your night.”
“Jesus Christ.” George exhaled in near shock before helping himself to a fistful of your hair. He gathered all of it in his grasp and then gave it a sharp tug, forcing a pleasant smiling moan from your chest.
“Fuck, yeah.” you beamed.
“Yeah?” he right away picked up the pace again, thrusting into you harder now just as you so obviously begged for, with his hand holding tightly to your hair.
The muted music from the party on the deck above was obsolete as your attention was all focused on the lewd slap of his skin against yours with every quick snap of his hips against your ass. His free hand came down hard on your flesh again and you cried out for him pleasantly. You rose up onto your hands flat against the mattress just to feel him pull at your hair until your head was forced to tilt up towards the ceiling.
“Oh my God, yes.” you moaned shakily as your knees spread a little wider just to make sure he was getting as deep as he could go. You were already getting dizzy from it, tears burning your eyes from how good it felt to be a little roughed up by this handsome stranger you had been ogling all weekend, and the way your knuckles were turning white as you gripped the duvet underneath you was proof enough of that fact. The whimpers and moans that tumbled from your lips were almost involuntary as it were nothing but your body’s natural honest reaction to the way he could make you feel but you still encouraged him with a pitchy, “Please don’t stop!”
“Naughty girl.” George spoke down to you firmly without breaking his pace, spanking you hard again so the sound nearly echoed across the modest bedroom, “Naughty fucking girl.”
His large hand groped your ass and tugged at your flesh as if to open you up some more, his eyes focused right down to where you were connected to watch how his cock disappeared entirely inside you over and over again. Licking and biting his lips under prettily furrowed brows, he couldn’t help the soft groans of his own pleasure, especially watching how you absolutely coated him in your creamy wetness with every thrust. He made sure to keep that snug grip on your hair all the same, almost using it to pull you back into his rough motions because that seemed to get the best reaction out of you.
“God, look at you taking it so well.” Daniel spoke from across the room.
You could only offer a pleading “uh huh” in reply, your sounds almost constricted by the way your head was forced back.
Daniel tisked, “My pretty little whore gets so fucking cock drunk…you can’t even form words anymore.”
With your hair pulled so snugly, you couldn’t turn to look at Daniel sitting across the room as much as you might have wanted to. It wasn’t nothing you hadn’t seen before, however, all too familiar with the image of him sitting in the nude with his cock in his hand, stroking himself off with his eyes fixated on you. You never minded him staring at you and you never minded putting on a little show for him to get that attention from him; this was no different. It was a new experience for the both of you but as initial nervousness had easily melted away, all the way left was pure erotic pleasure in the both of you and connecting you from across the room.
George’s hand in your hand pulled a little harder and you followed his wordless demand to get you up on your knees in front of him so your back was almost to his front and his hand let go of your hair to wrap around your throat as his lips met your neck. Your eyes rolled through your pleasant moan, reaching a hand behind you dumbly to try and grasp his waist as he kept his rough thrusts into you, stuffing you entirely full until the heat of it all was rushing right through your body and raising a tasteful sweat to your skin. His other hand drifted from your waist around your front to easily find your clit and his middle finger tugged greedy circles over the sensitive bud, earning a choked whimper from your throat.
“Yeah, that’s good, isn’t it?” he taunted against your ear, holding your body tightly against his as he had his way with you, telling you honestly in that warm rich voice of his, “You’re a fucking treat.”
You couldn’t even manage to string a reply together, only proving yourself to be embarrassingly agreeable with Daniel’s prior jab towards you, and all you could do was nod dumbly to the wall ahead of you with that view of sparkling Monaco in the distance. It was unreal. Between the way he fucked you and his hand on your already sensitive clit, he was drawing you closer and closer to another orgasm and although you couldn’t find the words to express it, it was glaringly obvious by the way your whimpers grew pitchier and your pussy squeezed tighter around him.
The way you were suddenly released from his arms and naturally dropped forward onto your hands on the mattress again startled you slightly but you barely had a second to process the change and the dwindling coil of pleasure inside you before George was pulling out of you completely as he grabbed your arm and flipped you over onto your back. It was his obvious assertion that had you gaping up at him as you were suddenly face to face again, your hands flying above your head to fist the duvet as he grabbed your ankles and pushed your legs open in a wide v-shape so he could lean down and spit loudly onto your pussy before straightening back up above you like a God.
“I decide when you cum, yeah?” he reminded you as his eyes locked on yours along with the demanding slip of his cock back inside you all the way. His eyebrows raised in time with your tight gasp at the return of that sudden stretch and his hand wrapped around your throat just as he began to fuck you again.
You nodded quickly with a whimper, “Yes, sir.”
“Yeah.” he exhaled strongly, guiding your left leg up to his shoulder before returning his hand to the back of your right knee to keep your legs spread wide, “You look like a fucking goddess. Don’t stop looking at me.”
As if you were in some sort of trance, you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to look away from him even if you tried. His hand around your neck and pinning you down to the mattress certainly helped; you wouldn’t have had it any other way. It almost felt like a wet dream that was too good to be true from just the sight of this handsome stranger above you, having a front row seat to the sight of his messy light brown waves flopping over his forehead in time with his rough thrusts into your pliant body and the expression of firm lust across his features that found home in his big stormy blue eyes.
The room was filled with the lewd sound of your shared breaths and soft moans, paired so filthily with the steady clap of your sweaty skin colliding in some consistent rhythm. His hand was so big around your throat that he could move his index finger up to slip into your mouth and, almost as if by natural instinct, you gladly sucked on it without breaking his eye contact. You wanted to lift your head up to watch how he fucked you but he gripped harder to your throat, pinning you down, even as you spit rolled down the side of his finger and over the back of his hand.
“Keep looking at me, love.” he ordered firmly. “Wanna see you turn into a fucking mess for me.”
But Daniel had alternate plans as his shadow appeared above you as he stood at the opposite side of the bed where your head was and he grabbed your biceps to yank you closer to the edge. George accommodated his move with grace as he just shuffled after you and slipped back inside you, filling you right up again with a handsome groan, still holding your leg out to the side so you could take all of him.
With your head hanging off the side of the bed just slightly, Daniel tapped the head of his cock against your swollen lips and you didn’t need to be instructed before you were opening your mouth for him. He praised you lowly as he carefully slid in against your tongue, moving slowly but surely until his balls nudged against your nose and you gagged lightly around him.
“Christ.” George groaned at the sight of your throat bulging slightly from the shape of Daniel dick helping itself to your body, and he slowly started up his thrusts again without tearing his eyes away from you.
Now you couldn’t see either of them at that angle, simply trusting them enough to use you how they needed from both ends. Daniel’s cock thrusting gently into your throat was forcing tears to prick at the corners of your eyes as you choked on him but George fucking you at just the right angle had you nearly sobbing with pleasure. So much so that you had to reach up to press a hand to Daniel’s abs to get him to let up and pull out of your mouth so you could cough up a pitchy moan and heave your head up to watch George’s cock pistoning addictingly inside you.
“Feels so good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” Daniel cooed, stroking his dick right beside your face as he, too, was watching the scene unfold intently.
“Uh huh.” you whimpered, eyes raising to George’s face, only to find him already staring at you.
Your expression directed up at him had his jaw visibly clenching and his grip on your thighs tightened, keeping you in place as he kept his rough pace going. Daniel’s dick poked against your cheek from how close he was standing, smearing a bit of precum across your flushed skin, and you naturally turned your head towards him to guide him into your mouth with a greedy hand. He set his hand under your head to help keep you supported as you sucked on him and you moaned around him from the way George was fucking you so deliciously.
“I want you to cum for me now.” George ordered down to you, yanking you towards him a little more to make sure your head was back on the bed, all without faltering his strokes into your sopping body. “Think you can do that for me, gorgeous?”
You pulled away from Daniel with a string of spit still connecting you, answering him with a weak, “Please.”
He took his hand from your leg that was resting up on his shoulder just enough to lick the pad of his thumb so he could drop it down to rub at your clit, letting his palm and fingers apply a bit of pressure to your lower abdomen at the same time. You literally flinched under his touch, back arching off the bed slightly as your legs threatened to curl inwards. George was firm in his grasp as he kept your one leg held outward no matter how much you struggled against him, his eyes nearly unblinking as he stared at your face like he didn’t want to miss a second of your reaction to him.
“Harder,” you squeaked, desperate for more of that hint of growing tight pleasure inside you as your fingers slammed down against the mattress on either side of you to grab tightly to the sheets, “please, harder.”
“Naughty girl.” he spoke down to you but complied, quite literally pounding you into the bed that you swore the rock of the yacht might have been influenced by it. His thumb on your clit was just as quick, his spit mixing in with the slick of your pussy to have him gliding effortlessly over your most sensitive spot that was nearly throbbing with need.
“Yes,” you whimpered, forcing yourself to stare down your body to watch him touch you, fuck you, have you just the way you liked it in a way you never expected for your reckless weekend plan, “yes, yes, yes, yes, yes-”
Daniel still stood right beside you, pumping his cock faster as he kept his gaze flicking between your face and how this handsome stranger fucked you in a way only he had before. You were quite literally dizzy from pleasure, almost frightened by how quickly your body was ramping you up to your second orgasm of the night, but the presence of Daniel right there beside you was comforting.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” you cried out, face scrunching up as it just kept building, tears spilling down your cheeks from the sheer pleasure of it all.
“That’s it,” Daniel praised lowly down to you, the slick sound of his hand on his cock only enhancing your senses, “Give into it. Cum for him, darling. Give him what he wants.”
“I can’t! I can’t!” you sobbed, teetering right on the edge, drowning in overwhelm.
“Yes, you can.” George insisted firmly without stopping, his words strained behind his slight breathlessness, “Look at me.”
You forced your eyes to open and focus on him, already squeezing around him at the sight of his pretty face, especially seeing him so sweaty and ruined by you. He licked his lips dreamily before speaking again, in that beautiful rich accent of his that seemed to have captivated a piece of your soul,
“You’re gonna cum for me. You said this is for me and I want you to cum right now. Okay? It’s my fucking day and you’re my fucking toy and you’re gonna do what I say and cum all over my cock. Isn’t that right, naughty girl?”
The first slight pulse of your cunt around him had a small smirk pricking the corner of his mouth and you didn’t dare to tear your eyes away from his as he kept you going with more pretty words,
“That’s it. Cum for me, baby. Come on, come on, come on, gimme it,”
It hit you hard, forcing your head to drop back against the bed with a choked sob to the ceiling as your vision almost went black, fingers pulling hard at the sheets and nearly untucking them from the sides of the mattress in the process, legs trembling from where he held them splayed, and the intense grip of your innermost muscles around him had him groaning deeply as he fucked you through it.
“Good girl.” George praised loudly, “Fuck me, that’s it-”
He lasted as long as he could inside you until he was pulling out and taking his hand from your clit to stroke himself off instead, only needing a few pumps before he was coming right up your stomach in thick white spurts. His moans were as angelic as his voice as he claimed you up in pretty ribbons up to your navel and it dripped down his hand as his orgasm tapered off.
“Holy fuck.” Daniel groaned from beside you, interrupting your silent gaping towards George with his hand in your hair and he pulled your head in. You barely got your mouth around him before he was coming too, blessing your ears with those pretty moans you knew all too well as he came across your tongue and down your throat. Having been unprepared, you choked around him slightly but took it all, knowing it was better than making a mess on the bed or your makeup.
When he was done and you pulled away from him with a spitty gasp before swallowing, he then leaned right down to kiss you, hand cradling your jaw to lead you through a few sloppy kisses. The moment you separated, George’s fingers were on your lips and you let him slip them into your mouth, gladly cleaning them off for him with the salty taste of cum grazing your tongue thanks to the both of them.
“You okay?” Daniel asked you softly with a pet to your hair.
George took his fingers from your mouth and you nodded, assuring them both with a breathless, “Yeah. Fuck, I’m so good.”
The two young men chuckled softly in agreement and George gently put your quivering legs down on the mattress before shifting off the bed.
“I’ll get you a towel.” he announced before disappearing through the door beside the bed that led to the small ensuite bathroom.
In his absence, you forced yourself into a sitting position and Daniel sat on the side of the bed beside you, both of you facing opposite directions but able to look at each other easily that way. He pet your hair out of your face and leaned in to kiss your lips softly once, twice, and then you rested your head on his shoulder with a blissful smile.
“How was that?” he asked quietly into your hair.
“Loved it.” you whispered. “Love you.”
Daniel smiled and reached a hand up to pet your hair again, “Me too. I love you too. You were so fucking good.”
George returned with a damp face cloth and he knelt on the bed again so he could reach you comfortably and he wiped up his mess from your stomach like a true gentleman. You stared at him intently as he cleaned you up and you couldn’t help but reach out to run your fingers through his hair, asking him bluntly, “How does your hair still look incredible?”
His soft chuckle was warm and low and his smile was infectious to you as he sat back from you, “I doubt it’s still incredible after your hands were tugging on it for a while there.”
Your fingers trailed out of his hair and down the side of his face, tracing his sharp jawline until you ghosted across his lips, licking your own habitually, and he hesitated only a moment before leaning in to kiss you. Giddy thanks to this handsome stranger, you smiled bashfully into it, and only a few seconds later he was pulling away and sharing in your soft smile before he moved to toss the cloth into the bathroom sink.
Daniel kissed your shoulder before asking the both of you as he stood up from the mattress, “You think we should get dressed and get back up there before people wonder where we are?”
“Probably.” George answered, walking around to the end of the bed so he could grab his underwear to put on.
You stayed on the bed for a little longer to catch your breath and took that moment to watch the two of them get dressed before Daniel brought over your clothes for you. You thanked him with a kiss and he helped you get up. You seriously needed to lean on his arm as the combination of your trembling legs and the sway of the yacht had you stumbling and, the three of you still slightly tipsy, shared light laughter. George came over to offer his hand for you to hold for stability while Daniel crouched down to help dress you himself.
Once you were all dressed and you had each made sure you still looked somewhat presentable in the bathroom mirror - you needing to wipe the smudged makeup from around your eyes first - you made your escape back to the party. George led the way again, peeking out into the hallway to make sure the coast was clear before slipping out of the bedroom with you and Daniel close behind. Daniel shut the bedroom door after you and he took your hand as you followed George right up the steep staircase.
Of course, your legs were still quite wobbly and as the boat rocked beneath you, you ended up half stumbling and nearly falling on George in front of you in the process. He stopped halfway up the stairs and turned to you as the three of you bursting into quiet giggles and they both helped you up again as if you were scaling a mountain together.
Since everyone at the party was quite intoxicated by then, your sudden ascension of the stairs right into the main space of the yacht went genuinely unnoticed and you melted right into the group with ease. You located Tabitha and Corbyn with ease near the rear of the yacht overlooking the dark ocean water surrounding you, talking with Charles and Pierre as well as Alex and his girlfriend. Tabitha noticed you first, giving you a lingering glance as you and Daniel approached hand in hand, George trailing behind casually.
“There you are.” Corbyn greeted you with a smile, his hand resting on the railing of the yacht behind Tabitha, “Where were you guys?”
“Just around.” Daniel answered casually as the circle shifted to welcome you three in.
You found your spot together between Pierre and Corbyn while George took to the other side of the little group between Alex and Charles. Daniel then took his hand out of yours to slide into the back pocket of your jeans instead and you stepped closer to his side and tucked your arm around his back in response, definitely overthinking how you were supposed to act in order to appear normal.
Alex sipped his drink and eyed George silently for a brief moment but you were sure that you were in the clear. Everyone seemed perfectly clueless, and your slight PDA with Daniel didn’t seem anything more than your usual drunken infatuation, the flush of your cheeks easily excusable as a result of the alcohol. Alex and Tabitha were looking at you like they expected more details of what you were up to in your absence but thankfully Charles went back to whatever story he was sharing and the attention shifted.
It was hard for you to focus on what he was saying when you were still buzzing with those glorious pleasure hormones and you were finding it difficult to keep your smile at bay. George kept glancing at you from across the circle, always having to keep looking away because one look at your obvious grin was making him start to smirk too. You couldn’t afford to have your cover blown. It was set to be the dirty little secret between the three of you.
In the early, early hours of the morning - some time around 3am - the yacht returned to the harbour and the mess of drunken professional drivers all stumbled out onto the pier to head home. Taxis and Ubers were called and there was a chaotic mess of intoxicated hugs and noisy goodbyes shared as people started to part ways. Corbyn and Tabitha stayed close to you and Daniel since you four were heading back to Corbyn’s together although part of you wished you had a bit of distance so you could have a proper, private goodbye with a certain handsome stranger.
Regardless, he still went in for the hug and you held onto each other probably a beat longer than real strangers would have. He gave your back a little rub and spoke to you as quietly as his drunk self could manage, “Thanks for such a memorable night.”
You giggled into his neck to try and hide your blushing smile, hands grasping onto the back of his soft expensive cardigan for a moment, replying sweetly, “You too. Get home safely.”
He pulled away from you and kissed your right cheek and then your other, half startling you, but no one seemed to bat an eye and in a second he was moving to Daniel to share a fist bump and knowing smiles with their casual ‘good night’s. And then, you watched him get into his taxi and shut the door without a look back and then he disappeared towards the winding late night streets of Monaco.
You couldn’t stop thinking about George for the rest of the night and well into the next day. You dreamt about him once your head hit the pillow that night - reliving your experience on the yacht in cloud-like detail - and you opened your hungover eyes in Corbyn’s guest room at nearly noon, tucked up in Daniel’s arms, with the memory of it all fresh on your mind. As you dragged yourselves out of bed to get ready for the day and even throughout brunch with your gracious hosts, your thoughts kept straying to wonder what George was up to and if you were going to be able to run into him again before you had to leave Monaco after only a few more days.
As Corbyn and Daniel took the responsibility of cleaning the kitchen, leaving you and Tabitha to hangout in the living room for a bit, you finally had enough of a distraction to stray you from the thought of George as you admired Corbyn’s shelves of trophies from throughout his career that lined the living room wall. Tabitha offered a few tidbits of information to you about some of them and you listened politely, trying to follow some of the lingo she was saying without making yourself look too much like an idiot. There was only so much to discuss at the trophy display so you eventually sat on the couch together and she asked you a few questions about how you enjoyed the party the night before and you made some lighthearted jokes about your underlying hangover you were nursing. She seemed insistent to know more about you and your night but to keep from having to spill your secret, you found a distraction in the album on the coffee table beside you.
Maybe you shouldn’t have just gone snooping through Corbyn’s things - especially with a title as personal as ‘Our Story’ that was written in curling calligraphy on the cover - but it was out in the open so you were sure it was fine. Tabitha didn’t stop you. Of course, what you had anticipated to be a good distraction, ended up being the opposite as the first page of the homemade photo album housed an image of a younger Corbyn, Lando, Alex, and George with their arms thrown around each other in a line up, each donning a different race suit. Underneath read The Rookies - FP1, Australia, March 2019 in neat printing. You stared at the picture and the younger, rounder face of George smiling back at you, trying not to think about the horribly sinful things that same young man did to you not even 24-hours prior.
Tabitha had asked you something, or maybe she had just said something about the album in passing, but you didn’t hear her at first until you finally looked back over at her to find her staring expectantly at you.
“Huh? Sorry.” you cleared your throat and closed the album before sitting back on the couch like you were touching something you weren’t supposed to.
Her eyebrows furrowed slightly at your startled reaction but she played it off with a gesture to the coffee table and a, “You can keep looking through it. It’s not a secret. Just a summary of Corbyn’s F1 career and a bit of him and me getting to where we are today. I gave it to him for his birthday two years ago.”
“Aw,” you glanced back at the book, “that’s cute.”
“Here,” she picked it up from the table and rested back against the couch with it, “let me show you the best parts.”
You leaned comfortably into the couch beside her and let her walk you through a few of the best photographs, all taken by her. It wasn’t long before Daniel and Corbyn joined you from the kitchen and Corbyn was holding his phone up as he called out to his girlfriend to drag her attention away from the album.
“Charles texted,” he said, “He’s having a little get-together at his place tonight. Did you want to go?”
“Another party?” she peaked a brow at him.
“Just a lowkey thing.” Corbyn assured her with a chuckle. “Looks like just Pierre is going over so far. Then us. Maybe Lando if we wanted to bring him along too?”
Tabitha looked at you, “Did you want to go?”
“Yeah, sure, it sounds nice.” you smiled in agreement.
“Okay. I’ll text Lando to invite him too.” she grabbed her phone from the table.
Part of you was hoping she would catch onto your telepathic girl-message to request her to extend the invite to George too but maybe you hadn’t known each other long enough for that to work. All you got in response to your silence was her acknowledgement that Lando was going to join the group at Charles’. You frowned but didn’t push anything. God forbid you made yourself look suspicious.
Charles lived in a nice apartment building farther into the core of Monaco, right amidst the hustle and bustle of it all, and Corbyn pulled his car into the two-car garage using the passcode he knew well by then, parking beside Charles’ sleek black Ferrari. You eyed the red and white stripes that stretched up the hood of the car as you followed Corbyn towards the entrance of the building. The lifestyle of these young men was nothing you had ever had the privilege of witnessing before.
Although spacious, Charles’ apartment was quite modest compared to what you were expecting but hints of luxury were present in the real hardwood herringbone floors and the high scale appliances and furniture. Right away, Daniel was admiring the white upright grand piano by the window the moment you walked in and he slid over to it with his hands held behind his back to force himself not to touch it without permission.
“This is beautiful.” Daniel complimented to your host as Corbyn and Tabitha headed into the adjacent living room to greet Pierre who was relaxing on the sofa. “I didn’t know you were into music. Do you play?”
“Thank you.” Charles smiled as he joined you and Daniel at the piano, “We used to have a piano when I was younger and my younger brother was spending hours and hours on it so I didn’t have really much time to play piano. But I always loved listening to him. Then a few years ago, when I had a bit of free time, I get a bit of time on the piano and actually learn and I love it. It’s a time where I can actually relax and disconnect from racing and everything that is around.”
“That’s amazing.” Daniel said honestly, “Piano is definitely my favourite. It really is an escape for me too. Corbyn and I actually met in music class in school.”
“Yes, he told me.” Charles said, “He plays too, a little.”
“Yeah.” Daniel glanced into the living room and then back to Charles, lowering his voice to add a cheeky, “Just not as good as me.”
“Oh, yeah?” Charles laughed.
Daniel then glanced at you with a nod to the piano in front of the three of you, requesting, “Add this to my Christmas list.”
You laughed humorlessly, teasing him truthfully, “For who? Me? I can hardly afford to breathe next to it.”
“Well then steal this one.” Charles joked, but hurriedly followed it with a lighthearted, “Just kidding. Just kidding.”
“I think even if we tried, the oversized baggage fee to get it home would cost more than buying a new piano.” you countered.
The two men laughed in agreement, all without taking their eyes off the sleek white instrument.
Charles gestured to it, offering to Daniel, “Would you like to play?”
Daniel’s eyes widened, “Can I? I’d love to.”
“Yes, of course.” Charles nodded him on.
Daniel nearly looked like a kid on Christmas morning as he sat himself down on the matching white wood piano bench and Charles lifted up the fallboard to reveal the pristine black and white keys. Daniel rubbed his hands together and then gently set his fingers on the keys, finding his spot, before pressing them down to begin to play. He began one of his original songs - one that he had written for you - and you smiled softly at him from your spot at his side, watching his focused face as his fingers danced over the keys.
Suddenly, Corbyn was beside you and scolding his best friend with a teasing, “Hey, that’s my spot.”
Daniel scooted over, “Duet with me, bro.”
“Oh, duet?” Charles crossed his arms over his chest in amusement, “Let’s see that.”
You left the three of them to their piano symphonies and you joined Tabitha and Pierre in the living room, placing yourself on the white couch with them as they chatted casually. You admired the view through the open blinds that revealed a breathtaking view of Monte Carlo and, in the distance, sparkles of crystal blue water, before skimming the room to familiarize yourself with the unfamiliar apartment. Like Corbyn, Charles had a display of his trophies along one wall along with a few race helmets and framed photographs from throughout his career and you smiled fondly at the few of little Charles from his racing days posing with people you didn’t recognize.
The ring of the doorbell had Charles leaving Corbyn and Daniel to their lighthearted bickering at the piano to welcome in the last of your group. Lando appeared in the living room doorway with two shopping bags that he placed on the coffee table as he greeted everyone cheerfully.
“What’s all in there?” Tabitha asked, leaning forward from her spot on the couch to try and see in.
“Nothing for you since it’s all alcohol.” he announced proudly, well accustomed to her sobriety, and he lifted two new bottles of vodka out of the bags to show off, “I woke up with a fucking killer hangover this morning but, you know what I say: the best cure for a hangover is to just drink more!”
“Oh my God.” Pierre laughed from Tabitha’s other side, shaking his head in amusement at the ridiculous declaration.
“Dude,” Tabitha sighed, “you’re going to kill your liver.”
“Yeah, well…YOLO.” Lando said in a singsong voice before setting the bottles on the coffee table and starting to unload the rest of them from the bags. Six glass bottles of clear liquor stood in a line on the table and he tossed the empty bags underneath it recklessly, setting his hands on his hips proudly at his little display.
You, Tabitha, and Pierre stared at him pointedly.
Suddenly, he clapped his hands together and turned in the direction of the piano, calling out, “Hey, Charles, where are your shot glasses?”
“Shots again?” Charles appeared in the archway, “I’m still ill from last night.”
“Yeah!” Lando brushed past him with a skip in his step, announcing over his shoulder, “Come on, you better show me the way or else I’ll start helping myself to your cupboards!”
“Oh my gosh.” you laughed into your hand over the messy notes from the piano from the next room, glancing over at the other two startled friends on the couch with you.
“Who invited him?” Pierre chuckled to you and Tabitha from her other side.
Tabitha sighed, “I think I have to take responsibility for that.”
You smiled, “That’s okay. He’s the life of the party.”
“That is some way to put it.” Pierre scoffed with a smile of his own.
The three of you entertained yourselves in the living room with modest conversation and you got to know Pierre a bit better and he shared a few childhood stories of himself and Charles - some that were encapsulated in frames on the shelves beside the couch. There was something so enthralling about Pierre’s demeanor and you swore you could listen to him talk for ages; he was just so relaxing. That was only proven more by the stark contrast that was Lando who literally bounded back into the room moments later.
“We ordered pizza too.” he announced as he set the Monaco-themed shot glasses on the coffee table with the unopened bottles but held one out to you first, “Wanna do a shot with me?”
You lolled your head to the side, pondering, “I dunno. I kinda overdid it last night.”
“C’mon.” Lando frowned, waving the empty glass in the air towards you, “I thought we’re new best friends.”
You took a second to stare at him and his pout as he tried to give you his best puppy eyes to get you to give in, but you didn’t need much convincing since the excitement of the night before was still fresh on your mind. So you leaned forward and snatched the red and white shot glass from him with a call to the next room, “Dani, I’m taking a shot!”
Your boyfriend shouted back from over his piano playing, “Okay, sweetheart!”
Lando unscrewed one of the bottles and you held out your glass so he could pour you a shot before taking one for himself and he offered the bottle out to Pierre who shook his hand to politely decline. Lando tisked in disbelief and then clinked his glass against yours, “To being the only two cool people here!”
“Here, here!” you laughed and tossed back the strong alcohol in one go.
Once the pizza arrived, Charles and Daniel and Corbyn joined you all back in the living room to eat and the spread of pizza and alcohol was squished on the coffee table. Tabitha was set on not drinking and she graciously offered to be the designated driver so Corbyn could succumb to Lando’s peer pressure to drink with the rest of you. Charles’ fridge ended up being raided for various fruit juices to make mixed drinks to sip on as you ate which was a much safer alternative than shots. You and Daniel ended up sharing the living room rug as the rest of the group took up the couch, you placed contently in your boyfriend’s lap, each with a half-filled cup in hand, Lando sitting closest to you on the couch and he was leaning forward to talk to you intensely about whatever conversation had arisen.
“No, no, no, listen.” he held his hand up in your face, “It doesn’t work like that. That’s not the point.”
You shoved his hand away in retaliation, “You listen.”
“Just listen,” he giggled.
“I’m not listening to you when you’re wrong.” you said louder.
“Stop!” he shouted over you, despite your shared laughter, “I’m not wrong!”
“Oh my God,” Tabitha shook her head from her spot right in the middle of the lineup between Corbyn and Charles, “You both are crazy.”
“And intensely intoxicated.” Corbyn added.
At the same time, you and Lando both pointed at him with a firm, “Wrong.” before bursting into laughter again. You flopped backwards against Daniel’s chest and his arms went around you habitually, smiling at your obvious drunken glee and he took another sip of his own drink, too tipsy himself to acknowledge how you were thrashing around your own cup and causing it to be dangerously close to spilling.
“Well, this is better than any film we could have watched.” Pierre said quietly from the end of the couch to the rest of the more sensible few alongside him.
“I’m just saying,” you continued loudly to Lando who was slouched back on the couch with his cheeks pink from alcohol and his tearful laughter, and you pointed your finger at him with the hand that held your cup, “One person can’t keep winning all the time! That’s so mean and selfish and…and…rude! They need to share! Like, if you have no wins and I have seven hundred, I’d be nice and let you pass me.”
“That’s not the point!” Lando whined, smacking his hands to his face.
“Might as well give participation ribbons to everyone at that rate.” Charles piped up.
You swooshed your pointed finger towards him instead, arguing all-knowingly, “Isn’t that what points technically are? Winners get fancy shiny trophies and the rest of you get little gold-star pity points?”
Pierre, Charles, and Corbyn just blinked at you for a second as if processing.
“No. It’s not like that,” Tabitha waved her hands in the air as if to clear that concept, before directing to the three of them, “Stop thinking about it.”
“You’re just afraid to admit that I’m right.” you smirked as you brought your cup to your lips to sip from your drink.
“No, actually, I don’t think you can be any farther from the truth.”
Hardly acknowledging her, you smacked Lando’s leg to get his attention, “Oh, oh, another thing: why is it that when there are three people on the podium are they not all called winners?”
“What?” he squeaked with laughter, “Because there can be only one winner.”
“It’s not the Hunger Games.” you insisted, “All three of you up there get a fancy trophy so why aren’t you all podium winners.”
“Podium winners.” Charles repeated as he licked away his amused smile and exchanged a glance with Pierre.
Tabitha argued in reply, “So everyone’s a winner to you? What about the rest of the drivers? What do you call them? Are they the pit lane winners?”
“Yes!” you gasped, “Genius!”
The guys audibly laughed out loud while Tabitha rolled her eyes despite her own little smile that grazed her expression and Corbyn flopped his head onto her shoulder affectionately through his chuckles. Daniel pulled you back against his chest again so he could press a chasté kiss to your shoulder and you smiled proudly at the reaction you got out of the group of them. You wiggled on his lap a little to try and get comfortable and his arm around you tightened to keep you close, but in your tipsy state, it was hard to sit still. Inevitably, you ended up splashing some of your drink onto Daniel’s jeans and he groaned as the wet sticky liquid seeped against his skin.
“Baby.” he huffed, gently nudging you off his lap.
“Sorry.” you pouted and stood up, almost stumbling over in the process as the alcohol was already in your head and making you dizzy. Tabitha habitually held out a hand to press to your back to keep you stable as Daniel got up from the floor and inspected the large wet spot on his right thigh.
“The toilet is down the hall if you need.” Charles offered, gesturing in the general direction.
“Yeah, thanks.” Daniel answered thankfully.
“Sorry.” you tried again, grasping onto his shirt to prevent him from leaving until he answered you.
Daniel kissed the corner of your mouth, “That’s okay, sweetheart. It was an accident. I’ll be right back.”
He disappeared down the hallway and no sooner was he gone that you were spinning around to face the group on the couch - stumbling slightly - and then you dropped back to the floor, nearly draping yourself over Lando and Corbyn’s legs with each arm.
“I have a secret.” you whispered to the five of them loudly.
“I don’t think now is a good time to tell secrets.” Tabitha offered as the only logical and sober one.
Lando leaned forward and thrust his hand out across Corbyn to hold his index finger towards her, “Shh. I want to know the secret. Don’t ruin it.”
“So…” you glanced behind you to make sure Daniel wasn’t there all of the sudden before turning back to the lineup on the couch, “y’know George? The tall sexy one of you?”
“Uh huh. He is very tall.” Lando nodded you on.
“Last night, on the yacht,” you held your hands to your mouth for a moment because the grin that was taking up your entire face was hard to control. The five of them were holding onto your every word as if they lived for the gossip and especially about one of their friends. You opened your hands to form a circle around your mouth and you confessed to them, “we had a threesome with him.”
There was a half second of silence that was quickly interrupted by Lando bursting into a fit of laughter and throwing himself backwards on the couch, clapping his hands together in full drunken amusement.
From the polar opposite side of the couch, Pierre had to look away to hide his cheeky smile with a hushed, “Oh mon Dieu.”
“What’s that you say in French?” you giggled, offering a crude translation for the two native French speakers in the room, “Ménage à trois.”
“Yes, yes, we know what you mean.” Charles assured you seriously, holding both hands towards you as if to quiet you, his tone bordering entertained and half-stressed.
Corbyn was in half-shock, “Daniel wanted to do that?”
“It was his idea!” you smacked his knee as if to say ‘can you believe’. “He so totally got off on watching someone else fuck me, it was so hot.”
“No fucking way!” Lando cackled, barely able to catch his breath as he asked you again as he raked his fingers through his curly hair in complete bewilderment, “Did that really happen? You really had a fucking threeway with George Russell?”
“Yeah, we did!” you leaned on his thigh enthusiastically so you could move in closer towards him and confess to him the naughty details shamelessly, “He’s got a big dick.”
Lando literally shrieked with laughter, thrashing on the couch until he flopped onto the floor with you as if having a complete fit. His laughter only had you keeling over yourself, sharing in his hilarity until the rest of the group were pulled into light chuckles themselves at the insanity of it all. Tabitha shot a pointed look at her boyfriend who merely shook his head with a baffled grin spread across his face, at a complete loss of words. Lando had tears pouring down his face as he struggled to catch his breath, clutching his chest through peels of laughter until you were both leaning into each other in complete silence as your lungs ran out of air.
Daniel returned to the living room at that moment, only to find the two of you in shambles on the floor and the rest of your little group in indescribable confusion and amusement on the couch. He stopped in the archway to assess the scene he walked in on for a moment before he spoke, “What did I miss?”
Lando just managed to catch his breath before turning to look at Daniel with a smooth and lighthearted, “I didn’t know you were a cuck, mate.”
“Oh my God, bro.” Tabitha gaped at his vulgar bluntness.
Daniel’s eyes widened as you and Lando burst into laughter again and he was right on the defence, “You told them?”
You wiped the tears from your cheeks and turned to your boyfriend, “I had to tell someone. It was fun and worthy of a brag.”
“Don’t worry,” Charles spoke up, “this will not leave this room, yes?”
Pierre, Corbyn, and Tabitha all agreed easily, while it took Corbyn to lean down and smack Lando’s arm to get him to catch his breath enough to agree too. Sprawled out on the rug, Lando held his hands over his stomach as he started to calm down, having laughed himself into a stitch.
“Fuck me.” he chuckled faintly before catching himself and wagging his finger between you and Daniel, “That was just a saying, by the way, don’t take that seriously or anything.”
“Oh, God, everyone on the grid is going to know by tomorrow, aren’t they?” you giggled, smacking your hand to your mouth.
“Nah,” Corbyn assured you, “We won’t let him say a thing. He listens to Tabs, at least.”
“Although, there were already suspicions last night as to who was occupying the room.” Tabitha said, “And Alex 100% knows since he saw you three.”
“What?” Charles gaped at her, “When did he see them?”
Daniel sighed and joined you and Lando on the ground, accepting his defeat, “When we were sneaking off, we ran into him. I guess George’s lie wasn’t as smooth as we thought at the time.”
“If only he could lie as good as he could f-”
Daniel’s hand smothered your mouth before you could finish your drunken thought but Lando was already sent keeling over in laughter once more.
#daniel seavey#why dont we#corbyn besson#george russell#f1#formula 1#george russell smut#george russell x reader#formula one#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#daniel seavey smut#daniel seavey x reader#why dont we smut#why dont we fanfic
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📝 collision | bangchan
disclaimers; petnames, insecurities. no depictions of the members' personalities, actions or thoughts reflect their true character.
pairing; bang chan × female reader
content; angst, hopeful fluff | word count; 500+
synopsis; after the fourth ring, will you pick up?
romantic 했던 추억 회상 소각
i look back on our romantic memories and they disintegrate
하늘로 흩어져 버린 매연 같다
like smoke disappearing into the sky
*beep beep beep beep*
chan could feel his pulse in his throat, his fingers tense around the phone, as he waited out the dial tones. he sat on the floor hunched against his bedroom wall, and clutching his phone anticipating y/n to answer.
an explosive argument.
the raising of voices, insecurities, and unspoken truths manifested themselves into three long, dreadful weeks of silence. the disagreement sparked from y/n asking chan to take a weekend away from work. this was not unreasonable to y/n. whenever they spent their Iimited time together, chan's laptop was always sitting in the corner; the lid halfway up. at first, it wasn't the problem but gradually, every spare minute chan accumulated, he'd open up his laptop. y/n saw just how consumed he was by work. obviously, chan protested and claimed he had to work hard, and while y/n was not denying his cause, she just wanted him to shut down for once, not roam the dorm till the ungodly hours of 4 am in an attempt to piece together tracks.
as the fourth dial tone dragged out, a crackle sounded, followed by the smallest voice, "hello, christopher?"
silence naturally followed, and chan sat bewildered at hearing his name being called out, nothing affectionate in his mind. "is everything alright?"
why you acting like a fool?
알잖아, don't be so rude
you know, don't be so rude
call me 'Baby' like you used to
원래 그랬던 것처럼
like you used to
"baby, what happened to us?" chan breathed out slowly. for another minute, he was met with a dead end, he could hear the white noise of the fan in your apartment.
"chris. you know what happened. we both needed time to cool off. a lot of what we said was in the heat of the moment... i have been thinking and..."
there it was, the inevitable end. chan rolled his head back, still tightly gripping the phone with his right hand and his left index and thumb working at the tension in his temples. a sigh escaped his parted lips as he stared blankly up at the ceiling.
"baby, let me finish." chan snapped back to reality. he didn't intend for the conversation to switch, but his mood back flipped as soon as it felt as though there was an end in sight.
"mmmhh." chan sounded, the corners of his lips tugging up as he gulped lightly. there it was... baby.
"we need to properly sit down and talk. i know i avoided communicating my feelings, and i don't want what we have to end. but i also needed time to reflect on the things we both said. don't misunderstand me, this isn't the end of us. but it's also not something we should sweep under the carpet." chan could only nod in response, his throat long dried up.
"baby, what do you think?" there it was again...
the one word he missed hearing. even though it wasn't said as sweetly as he remembered, 'baby' still felt familiar, in it's affection. it felt like home.
"baby girl, i'm so sorry..." a shaky breath escaped from chan as his shoulders relaxed before he continuted. "let's sit down and talk. it's been hard without you, a-and i want you to know that i will do better for the both of us."
consider reading more: masterlist
note; please let know if you enjoyed this drabble.
♪ i believe in collision and han-heartbreak-song supremacy ♪
credit to hyunloversclub on twitter for the lyric translations.
© stayfortwominutes ; august 07, 2023.
#skz fluff#skz angst#bangchan drabbles#skz drabbles#skz collision#skz imagine#skz scenario#skz x reader#skz fic#stray kids scenario#stray kids imagine#stray kids fic#stray kids x reader#bang chan x reader#stayfortwominutes#bang chan x y/n#bangchan x y/n#bangchan x you
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An Instagram au with Marcus where people suspect your dating after being on Screaming Meals? Please🥹
Instagram au🍝
Don’t know marcus Armstrongs personality or mannerisms that well so I’m sorry if this isn’t what you expected <3
fem!f2driver!reader x marcus Armstrong
you were invited on to screaming meals ,there was a tiny bit of flirting going on between you and Marcus, fans suspect your dating
y/nusername
y/nusername: weekend dump > thankyouu for inviting me on screaming meals🫶🏻
tagged:Marcusarmstrong, clementnovalak, jamesharveyblair.
Liked by marcusarmstrong, 279,538
view all 40,873 comments
Armstrongfann2: the low-key flirting between y/n and Marcus 😏
username_w3: low key ??? they were hardcore flirting
marcusarmstrong: best guest yet
y/nusername: naturally 😚😚
clementnovalak: thanks for putting up with us 🙏🏼
Liked by y/nusername
y/nf3championnn28: THE COMMENTS
armstrongmarc11: I have a feeling her and marcus are dating…
User263: CHECK THERE NEW INSTA STORIES!!😍😍
y/nusernames story
marcusarmstrong
y/nusername
y/nusername: name a better feeling than this.
Liked by marcusarmstrong and 305,893 others
view all 15,802 comments
marcusarmstrong: getting karma on you for posting mugs
y/nusername: grow up you big baby <3
marcusarmstrong: your baby ;)
Liked by y/nusername
F2updatess: the flirting …posting eachother they’ve gotta be dating surely
username83: or they could be friends
F2updatess: idk man all the flirting and posting eachother on there insta storys … they have to be dating.
y/n18fan: idk if I want to be her or be with her 😍🤩
marcusobsessed: wait what if she’s dating clem or James ?
kiwuvrr11: my fave f2 driver and my fave kiwi 🥝 are flirting. My life =complete
y/nandmarc: *manifests for them to get together*
Liked by marcusarmstrong and y/nusername
y/nandmarc: they both liked my comment omfg😫😫😍😍
load for more comments
(Authors note -I’m so sorry I know this is sloppy and not good but Marcus is one of the drivers I don’t know as much so it was harder for me to do )
#marcus armstrong#marcus armstrong x reader#formula 1 imagine#indycar#chip ganassi racing#charles leclerc x reader#f1 instagram au#instagram au#fiction#arthur leclerc x reader#formula 1#charles leclerc
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Hi I wanted to know if you know any tomarry fanfics were Tom is the professor. I don't care if it's time travel or anything like that I just want to see some professor Tom because I can't find any.
Also your blog help me so much thank you for that!
Have a good day/night
Oohh, this is a fun one! Thanks for the ask!
I love the Professor Riddle trope. I might be biased, but I think Tom Riddle would have made for the best Defense professor that Harry could have had 😉
See below for some favorite Tomarrymort fics of this trope, arranged by alphabetical order:
*
Professor Riddle Fic Recs
Cam for the Money, Stayed for the Fun by @itsevanffs (E, 7k, complete)
Harry is a camboy. Professor Riddle is secretly his biggest patron.
Everything Green Is Gold by @cindle-writes (E, 24k, WIP)
Prior to Hogwarts, Harry had stayed mostly invisible to the teachers and adults around him his whole life. But Tom Riddle, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, looked at Harry like he was something to be wanted.
Fault Lines by @vestiges-of-light (M, 151k, complete)
After the world believes that Voldemort has died on that Halloween night, Tom Riddle returns to Hogwarts to claim the Defense post at last. Hogwarts will be a sanctuary, while he waits to find out more about Harry Potter and the prophecy that connects them. But when Grindelwald is broken out of prison, perhaps the magical world needs Voldemort to be publicly resurrected after all.
Fidgeting Anxiety Prevention by MistyTheGhost (E, 1k, complete)
Harry feels nothing but dread about his upcoming NEWTS. Luckily, Professor Riddle offers some assistance.
For Auld Lang Syne by @vdoshu (T, 8k, complete)
When he finds himself disarmed and held at wandpoint in the middle of a snowstorm, Tom’s first thought is that he is an embarrassment to Defence professors the world over.
His second thought is something along the lines of, “Oh no, not again."
gratuity by @being-luminous (E, 2k, complete)
In the middle of class, Professor Riddle uses a spell to magically manifest his cock into Harry's arse.
hook, line, and sinker by @purplemineralwater (M, 6k, WIP)
Harry asks Professor Riddle for help in killing Voldemort. Riddle is endlessly amused.
Muggle Studies is Economics in Disguise by May_May_0_0 (M, 12k, complete)
Dumbledore acquiesces when Tom Riddle asks for the defense post. Harry stumbles into this AU version of Hogwarts hoping to teach defense. But there is only teaching one spot available: Muggle Studies. Chaos ensues as Muggle Studies becomes everyone’s favorite class. Tom Riddle is enraged, concerned, and… turned on?
Professor by Day, Vigilante by Night by @duplicitywrites (T, 73k, complete)
Harry and Tom have been together since their fifth-year, proving once and for all that Slytherins and Gryffindors can actually get along. Fifteen years later, they are both professors at Hogwarts and more in love than ever. Harry plays Quidditch with the Weasleys on the weekends, and Tom is secretly a vigilante named Voldemort.
On Holiday by @neurowriter14 (E, 2k, complete)
Harry's thirsty over his DADA professor. Professor Riddle knows.
The Orphaned King by @silenceinwinter2019 (E, 134k, complete)
In an AU where Voldemort wins, Harry starts his seventh year. Two things told Harry it would be an interesting semester: first, the Dark Lord would visit Hogwarts; second, they had a new defense professor, who made Harry’s stomach squirm and called himself Marvolo Gaunt.
What Happens in Vegas by @dividawrites (E, 14k, complete)
Turns out, the role of the Slytherin Head of House is not just ruling over pre-teen idiots and deducting points from Gryffindors. Now Tom has to accompany the seventh-year students on their school trip to Las Vegas.
It goes even worse than he could have imagined.
*
#tomarrymort#tomarry#harrymort#aethon recs#tomarry recs#tomarrymort recs#harrymort recs#hp fic recs#ao3 recs#fanfic recs#professor riddle#professor tom riddle
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