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pierregazly · 2 days

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shampoo suds ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x f!reader

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, mention of reader having hair, bathing together [934 words]

request: can I request oscar with the gentle prompt "let me wash your hair." 💗💗

note: literally saw this and had to finish it immediately, oops :) this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

It was a different type of intimacy, having Oscar’s chest against your back while the water sloshed around you. His head was tilted and pressed against the wall behind him, while his one arm wrapped around your front as you nuzzled back into him.

The water filled to the bathtub brim surrounding the two of you was warm and comforting. An almost ideal end to an already too-long of a week. Too-long of a month, really. Oscar had been flying all around the world, leaving you to your own work and responsibilities.

You knew he had been sore after the race in Shanghai, the jolt to his body from the accident causing a persistent, irritating pain to radiate through his body. The Australian had complained more than once about how sore his back was, which made it even easier to convince him a hot bath was necessary almost the moment he got through the door Monday evening.

Pulled out of your thoughts by the feeling of Oscar’s thumb gently tracing circles against your ribcage, you turned your neck to look at him out of the corner of your eye.

“This is nice. Feel like we haven’t done this in a long time. We should do this more,” he murmured, subsequently pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

Nodding your head in agreement, your own hand gently traced the age-old scars on his arm as he continued to gently pepper your shoulder and head with kisses.

Oscar was always more affectionate after a long time apart, eager to show you how much he missed you, loved you, and wished you were with him every second. You never complained about it, always grateful to receive all the affectionate gestures he provided. Even if it meant pruning up in a bathtub after laying in it for an hour.

“Osc, we gotta get out soon. I have to wash my hair before we go to sleep,” you said.

You felt the groan before you heard it, the sound bubbling up and out of Oscar’s chest.

“Let’s just stay in the bath. Let me wash your hair,” he emphasized his words by dribbling a bit of bath water over your head, a laugh falling from your lips at his actions.

Patting his knee, you shook your head, the droplets of water hitting Oscar in the face. “The bath water’s too dirty to wash my hair in, it won’t take me long to shower.”

Oscar was pressing down on the drain plug before you had a moment to react, the water beginning to drain out of the tub as you looked back at him in confusion.

“I guess we’re showering together, too. So needy today, baby.”

Scoffing at his words, you playfully slapped at his chest before he gestured for you to stand up, following your movements just a second later. The cold air hit your skin, causing a shiver to run through your body. Oscar was quick to turn the shower knob to ‘on’.

The warm water hit your back a second later, a sigh leaving your lips at the contact against your skin. Tipping your head back, you let the water trickle down your hair and skin.

Pressing his hands into your scalp, Oscar begin to soothingly run his hands through your hair, making sure the water had dampened all the strands.

“Osc, you really don’t have to. You’re still sore, go lay down. This won’t take me long,” you said. The man in question shushed you, before continuing his ministrations.

Grabbing the bottle of shampoo from around you, Oscar poured an excessive amount into his hands, a sheepish smile adorning his face as you looked at him in exasperation. He began to gently layer it into your hair, suds begin to form as his fingertips massaged your scalp.

You couldn’t contain the soft sighs that were leaving your lips. The feeling of Oscar running his hands through your hair, scratching at the roots, and massaging your head causing shivers to wrack through your body.

He tilted your head back again, allowing the spray of the shower to wash away the suds of shampoo. Oscar ran his fingers tenderly through the strands, scrubbing gently at your scalp again to try and get all the soap out.

Oscar’s face was right in front of you, his eyes scrunched and lips pursued as he focused on his task at hand.

Before you could stop yourself, you were inching forward to press your lips against his. Reciprocating, Oscar used his hands that were already in your hair to pull you closer to him, your bodies pressing against one another’s.

A soft sigh fell from your lips as your own hands glided up his muscled back, pressing the tips of your fingers into spots he had mentioned were aching earlier in the day. It prompted a groan to fall from his lips, his body pushing back into your hands.

Pulling away from him, you grinned as you moved your hand up and down his back.

“Let me just condition my hair, and then I’ll give you a full back massage. How does that sound, hm?”

Eagerly nodding his head, Oscar went to grab the conditioner from around you, which you easily snatched out of his hand while shaking your head at him.

“Absolutely not. This is like gold, I love you… but I don’t trust you to not pour half the bottle on my head.”

All the Australian did was laugh at your reaction, his eyes practically sparkling as he smiled at you; the adoration so prominent on his face.

i hope y’all loved this!! i had such a blast writing it 🫶🏻 i’m thinking of creating a taglist (again), so if you’re interested let me know!!

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #oscar piastri blurb #follower celebration #pierregazly’s 1.5k celebration #f1

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lxndonorris · 2 days

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such a tease - Max Verstappen

Y/N x Max Verstappen Theme: Smut (you've been warned) helping Max change after the Chinese GP, appreciating how good he looks in his racing suit and without x word count: 3570+ taglist: @game-set-canet EN: I had to use this picture, it lives rent free, got another for CL and LN planned, if you have any requests for others, let me know. Its my longest yet I think. Hope you like it. We need more body worshipping Max imo.

As you stood in the vibrant atmosphere of the Shanghai International Circuit, your heart raced with anticipation. It wasn't just any other day; it was the Chinese Grand Prix, and Max Verstappen, the love of your life, was poised to dominate the track.

As the lights dimmed and the engines roared to life, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through your veins. With each passing lap, you watched Max weave his magic, his driving prowess on full display for the world to see.

The tension mounted as the race unfolded, but Max remained unfazed, his determination unwavering as he led the others around each corner and each straight. Lap after lap, he danced with danger, his skill and precision leaving you in awe.

And then, as the checkered flag waved in the air, declaring Max the victor, you felt a swell of pride wash over you. You made your way toward the pitwall, just in time to catch him emerging from his Red Bull race car.

Max's energy and excitement were infectious as he cheered loudly before he turned to meet your gaze. In one swift motion, he approached you and the rest of his team, hugging you tightly.

With a radiant smile gracing his features, Max held his throphy aloft on the podium, the golden light of victory illuminating his face. Dressed in his racing suit, adorned with the colors of his team, he looked every bit the champion he is.

As you watched from the stands, your heart overflowed with admiration for the man you loved. His determination, his dedication, and his unwavering pursuit of excellence were on full display for the entire racing world to see. And in that moment, amidst the cheers and the applause, you couldn't help but feel incredibly lucky to be by his side.

While Max soaked in the adulation of the crowd, his eyes found yours in the sea of faces, a silent acknowledgement of your unbreakable bond. And as he raised a hand in salute, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, you knew that this was a moment you would cherish forever.

As the press conference unfolded, you noticed Max's gaze constantly finding yours amidst the sea of flashing cameras and eager reporters. His smirk, subtle yet unmistakable, sent a shiver of excitement down your spine.

With every question fielded, his eyes lingered on yours, and as he spoke, his hand subconsciously drifted to his chest and thighs, a gesture that seemed to amplify his magnetic charm.

Watching him, so effortlessly captivating and utterly beautiful, a rush of adoration swell within you. You knew how he felt right now—the excitement and adrenaline of the race lingering deep inside him, and the desire to share this moment with you and you alone.

For just anyone, this seemed unimportant, but you knew that with every stroke, every little move of his fingertips, he imagined it was you instead.

As the conference drew to a close, Max's haze met yours once more, and with a knowing smirk, he got up from the sofa. Together, you made your way through the paddock to his motorhome.

Now inside the cozy confines of his motorhome, Max wastes no time grabbing a cold can of Red Bull from the fridge, his go-to source of energy and focus. With a deft twist of his wrist, he cracks open the can, the satisfying hiss of carbonation filling the air.

Taking a long sip of the invigorating drink, Max's expression softens, a look of pure satisfaction crossing his features.

Turning to you, his eyes sparkle with a mix of exhilaration and contentment. Despite the intensity of the race and the demands of the press conference, he still manages to look effortlessly hot in his racing attire, clad in his sleek racing suit and signature cap.

As he stands before you, radiating confidence and charm, his presence fills the room. You let your eyes roam all over him: his racing suit hugs his athletic frame, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the muted tines of the motorhome's interior. Paired with his cap, adorned with the logo of his team, he looks every bit the part of racing superstar.

With a playful grin, Max extends the can of Red Bull towards you, inviting you to share his post-race ritual with him.

Taking it from him, you marvel at the warmth of his touch, the electricity that seems to crackle between you. And as you take a sip of the Red Bull, you enjoy the cold, refreshing liquid running down your throat.

With an hour until his next interview, you put the can down on the table next to you before turning back to meet Max's gaze right away.

With a confident swagger in his step, Max closes the distance again. One arm wrapped securely around your waist, he pulls you close, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

Steadying yourself against him, you can't help but be swept away by the intensity of the moment. His proximity is electrifying; his scent, a mixture of his cologne, sweat, and champagne, fills your senses as he leans closer, his lips grazing against your ear.

"Care to lend a hand?" he whispers, his voice husky with desire. His playful tone sends a surge of heat coursing through you, and you play along, relishing in the teasing banter.

With a playful smirk, you nod in response, your fingers trailing lightly along the contours of his racing suit as you begin to assist him in changing.

The adrenaline from today's race still surges through his veins, and his whole body tenses with the remnats of the high-octane action on the track. Despite the exhaustion that threatened to set in, there is a raw energy emanating from him.

You stroke his chest firmly through his racing suit; every muscle in his body seems to be coiled like a tightly wound spring, ready to unleash its power at a moment's notice. The fabric hugs his frame flawlessly, accentuating his athletic build and adding an air of intensity to his already striking appearance.

His eyes, ablaze with the remnants of the fierce competition, hold a magnetic allure that is impossible to resist. There is a primal energy to him, a wildness that sets your heart racing and your pulse quickening with every passing moment.

As your hands glide across Max's chest, tracing the contours of his racing suit, you feel the tension in his body gradually give way to a sense of relaxation. Enjoying how the sleek fabric feels underneath your fingertips, you stroke him even firmer, causing him to purr happily.

You let your hands run along his waistline as well, feeling his butt filling out the suit fully. Your hands are now freely encompassing all of him, from the small of his back, running along his spine and back around his shoulders, to his firm chest.

"That feels good." His smile widens as he pulls you closer, his grip firm yet gentle on your waist, a clear invitation to continue.

With each stroke, you sense the pleasure building within him, the sensation of your touch heightening the electric connection between you. His racing suit, once a barrier between you, now serves as a conuit for your intimacy, amplifying the intensity of your shared desire.

Max leans, his lips brushing over your neck and your ear, before he lets out a low, guttural moan, giving you goosebumps.

"Mhmm." You shiver as your hands gilde over his thick pecs and right his arms. As your fingers trail along Max's muscular arms, stroking the sinewy contours underneath his suit, he responds with a subtle flex, the muscles beneath his skin rippling with power.

He leans his head back, and with a knowing smile, he invites you to feel the strength of his arms.

As you press your hands against his flexed biceps, you marvel at the firmness of his form, the raw energy simmering just beneath the surface. His muscles tense under your touch, a silent invitation to explore further to revel in the sensation of his strength.

With each flex, you feel a surge of excitement coursing through you, the heat of desire building with every second. Max's body is a canvas of power and grace, a testament to his relentless pursuit of perfection, both on and off track.

And as you continue to stroke him, tracing the contours of his arms with reverence and awe, you can't help but be captivated by the sheer beauty of his physicality.

"Oh, fuck." You speak quietly, watching your fingers run along his arms and back to his chest. As your gaze meets his once more, a knowing smirk plays on his lips, and he lowers his arms just to grab your waist again, securely holding you in place.

"Feels good, huh?" He licks his lips as his gentle fingers run along your waistline.

"Oh, yeah." You respond with a coy smirk forming on your lips, and then you let your hand run up his chest and right to the collar of his slick racing suit.

As you toy with the zipper of his suit, teasing him with the promise of what lies beneath, you can't help but revel in the power of your own arousal. The sight of Max, so strong and commanding yet vulnerable in his desire, stirs something primal within you, igniting a fire that burns with ferocious intensity.

And you tease him with the zipper while looking right into his sparkling eyes. You alternate between gentle caresses and playful tugs, causing a low, deep rumbling in his throat.

The firmness of his form beneath the fabric carries an intoxicating allure, pulling you closer and closer.

As you unzip his suit slowy, teasingly, you reveal the snug white fireproofs underneath, and a low growl escapes his lips, a primal sound of desire and anticipation. With his head leaning back, he surrenders to the sensations, his body tensing beneath your touch.

Sliding your hands inside his suit, you feel the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric, the firmness of his muscles, even more evident now, inviting your touch.

With each stroke, you apply just the right amount of pressure, eliciting a shiver of pleasure from Max as he arches into your touch. His breaths come in shallow gasps, the rhythm of his heartbeat echoing in the space between you.

And as you continue to stroke him, your movements growing bolder and more confident with each passing second, you feel the arousal within you intensifying as well, matching the intensity of his own desire.

With a shared determination, Max and you work together to remove the upper half of his racing suit, leaving the sleeves hanging down his waist. As the fabric falls away, his muscles are revealed, defined, and taut beneath the thin material of his undergarments.

Each contour is accentuated by the tight fabric, a testament to the physical strength and endurance required of a Formula 1 driver.

Unable to restrain the urge to touch him or feel him, you place both of your hands on his chest again. With every touch, every stroke, Max lets out a low, primal growl of pleasure.

His grip on your waist intensifies as well, as he starts to stroke you in response. This spurs you on, fanning the flames already burning inside your belly, encouraging them to engulf your entire chest with burning desire.

Your hands explore the planes of his chest and the curves of his abdomen. The sensation of his muscles rippling beneath your fingertips only fuels your desire further, each growl serving as a symphony of passion between you.

Running your hands up Max's chest and neck, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your hand, you trace the outline of his lips with your thumb, a teasing question poised on your lips.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" You ask, a playful glint in your eyes.

Max's response is a simple nod, his expression softening as he meets your gaze. The tension that gripped his features now melts away, replaced by a look of pure contentment and desire.

With a mischievous grin, you reach up and remove his cap, letting it drop to the floor with a soft thud. His messy hair spills out from beneath, tousled and tousled from the excitement of the race. Running your fingers through his hair, you marvel at the softness, the strands tangling around your fingertips like silk.

Leaning in closer, you caress his cheeks, feeling the stubble beneath your touch. His skin is warm and smooth, in stark contrast to the rough texture of his racing suit.

At the same time, you keep stroking his tummy, tracing the tangible outlines of his abs with your other hand. The look in his eyes, dark with desire, tells you that he is enjoying every moment of the exquisite torture.

You let your hand wander even further down his body, and you gasp once your hand encompasses the desire bulding up inside his racing suit. In response, Max lets out a low sigh and starts to grind his hips against the palm of your hand.

Your eyes meet his, and the two of you smirk knowingly.

With practiced ease, Max slips off his shoes, the tension in the room palpable as he stands before you, his clothes clinging to his form.

As the racing suit falls to the floor, forgotten in the heat of the moment, your eyes trace the outlines of his body, mesmerized by the sight before you.

Max stands tall and proud, his muscles defined and toned beneath his tight fireproofs. The fabric is hugging his form like a second skin, and unlike the racing suit, it is unable to hide any of his features.

His muscles ripple underneath, his biceps are thick with tension, just like his entire chest and thighs. The unmistakable bulge forming inside his trousers shows the effect all that teasing has on him, and Max isn't even trying to hide it.

Instead, he rubs the palm of his hand across his member while biting his lower lip and watching you closely. Still, you're not done teasing him yet.

Placing your hands back on his firm chest, you continue to stroke Max through his undergarments, eliciting a chorus of enticing sounds from his throat. With each touch, each stroke, the desire threatens to consume you both.

Max responds eagerly to your touch, pulling you closer until there is barely any space between you. His hands, once idle at my sides, now roamed freely, exploring every curve and contour of my body with a fervent hunger.

Feeling his hands on your butt, pulling you flush against him, sends a jolt of electricity coursing through you. The sensation of his touch is all-consuming, setting your skin ablaze with longing and need.

You suddenly can't wait to feel his bare skin under your fingertips. Tugging greedily at his shirt, you expose the hard lines of his abs. Responding to your need, he takes his shirt off in one swift motion, exposing his beautiful, toned chest.

Just like before, you stroke him and play with his hard nipples, just the way he likes it. His skin is so warm, tensed, yet oddly soft. His muscles react to the simplest touch, and you know he's longing for so much more.

Your eyes follow his hand, stroking himself, his chest, abs, and then further down to his member, tenting visibly. Max is letting out low growls, pressing his body against yours while biting his lips.

"Let me take care of that." You smirk and kiss him lovingly before you make your way down his chest. With every stroke, his breathing quickens, and you place kisses all over his chest, down his abs until you're on your knees.

Max runs a hand through his hair and across his face. His entire being is craving a release, to let go of all this pleasure and desire building up inside him.

Teasingly, you trace the outlines of his member with two fingers, causing him to moan quietly. Then, you slip your fingers inside his pants. As you play with the waistband, teasingly tugging at the fabric, Max's reaction is immediate; a low groan escapes his lips as he leans into your touch, his desire palpable against your fingertips.

With each playful tug, his arousal grew, the fabric of his fireproofs stretching against the swell of his desire, its heat radiating through his clothes.

There is no room for restraint or hesitation. Both of you are consumed by the fire of your shared passion.

You pull his pants down and let your hands roam all over his thighs before you focus all of your attention on his dick.

As you take him inside your mouth, your entire body gets just as stiff as he is, and right away, Max lets out multiple low moans, leaning his head back while running a hand through your hair, encouraging you to take it all.

Easily, the two of you adapt to each other's movements, moving in sync with one another to an unseen, unheard rhythm.

Max moves deliberately, soft and gentle, even though he is already on the verge of cumming. All that teasing, paired with the excitement of winning today's race, dominating the entire grid, built up inside him, just waiting for this moment.

It doesn't take long for him to lean his head back even further and let out an exhausted, long moan.

His familiar taste spreads across your tongue, causing you to relish in that moment.

Max runs a hand through your hair as you separate yourself from him. He bends down, placing a hand at your neck, stroking you with his fingertips.

"That felt so good." He moans as he leans in to kiss you gently. Then, he helps you get up and steadies you against his firm frame.

"It was amazing." You lick your lips, savoring the taste still lingering on your tongue.

Max then steps out of his fireproofs, leaving them pooled at his feet. He stands before you, completely exposed, his vulnerability laid bare for you to see.

He touches himself a few times, still feeling that pleasure running through his veins, and you can't help but smile.

As you watch Max get dressed again, your gaze lingers on every movement, captivated by the effortless grace with which he moves.

He starts by slipping into a fresh pair of underwear, the fabric clinging snugly to his form. Max struggles a little with his stiff member, but that just makes the two of you giggle.

"Always the same with you." You tease, but he just shrugs.

"I can't help it." He tilts his head slightly. "That's what you're doing to me."

Rolling your eyes, you can't help but giggle again.

Next, he pulls on a pair of jeans, the denim hugging his legs in all the right places. With each movement, the tension in the room seems to grow again, amplifying the allure of his every gesture.

Finally, Max reaches for his signature Red Bull shirt, the fabric stretching tautly across his firm chest and shoulders. Even though it is a familiar sight, the shirt seems to fit him even more perfectly than usual, accentuating every contour of his muscular frame.

As he smoothes down the fabric, adjusting the shirt just so, you can't help but reach out for his chest once more.

You run a hand over Max's red Bull shirt, feeling the warmth of his body radiating through the fabric. A shiver of excitement exhoes through you.

Your soft strokes elicit another guttural rumble deep from within his throat, and he places his hand on top of yours. The fabric of his shirt stretches and molds to the contours of his body, flattering him perfectly.

His familiar scent envelopes you again, filling the air with an intoxicating aroma that is uniquely his own. It is a scent you know and love—a blend of musk and sweat mixed with the subtle hint of his favorite cologne.

"Do I smell okay?" He asks suddenly, and you just nod.

"Yeah, so good." You smile and lean in to him, kissing him deeply while still stroking his chest through his tight shirt.

As you pick up the discarded clothes from the floor, you can't help but revel in the sensation of Max's racing suit and fireproofs between your fingers. The fabric is so soft yet sturdy.

As the two of you fold the garments neatly, you notice how they still retain the faint scent of Max—a scent that fills you with a sense of comfort and familiarity.

Feeling his arms wrap around you from behind, his touch gentle yet possessive, you melt into his embrace, savoring the warmth of his presence. His hand strokes your tummy with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter, each caress sending waves of pleasure through you.

Turning around to face him, you are greeted by the sight of Max in his signature look, his cap firmly in place, and a playful glint in his eyes. Despite the intensity of the day, he is ready for the next challenge, his confidence unwavering as he prepares for the next interview.

With a smile, you reach up and adjust his cap, making sure it is perfectly aligned. Max grins in response, a silent acknowledgement of your unspoken bond.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 smut #formula 1 smut #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 imagine

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gatabella · 9 months

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Gene Tierney, The Shanghai Gesture, 1941

#gene tierney #the shanghai gesture

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waddlewaddlewaddlewaddle · 3 months

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ᵤₙfₒᵣₜᵤₙₐₜₑₗy ₛₘᵢₜₜₑₙ ₍ₘₐfᵢₐ bₒₛₛ! Gₒⱼₒ ₓ ᵣₑₐdₑᵣ₎

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Summary: Life leads you to treacherous roads after deciding to enter the dangerous life you knew well not to follow.Having gojo by your side inviting you deeper and deeper into all that’s wrong in the world, inciting you to be selfish and carefree wasn’t supposed to be to your liking, so why do you shiver with adrenaline every time he decides to be the devil on your shoulder?

Contents: Mafia boss gojo x secretary reader.(civilian au ig)

-Secret crush Gojo!

-Yandere Gojo

-Physical altercation I guess.

-angst.

Gojo being an egocentric bitch! Wealthy gojo! X no nonsense reader.

Warnings: trigger warning if you’re not interested in anything mafia like drugs or violence related. The narration of this story is inspired by Latin and Asian mafia.

Wc:3k

🏷:@busyreader17 @starlight5cat @xavlyzn (I love y’all for tuning in I appreciate your comments🫶🏻🫶🏻)

Chapter 3

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Some dew drops are seen sliding down the windows of a custom Gulf Stream jet ;due to the rain as it lands on a clandestine pathway in the city of Shanghai, China.

As the wheels below the jet deploy you feel a soft warm hand tap you on shoulder waking you up out of your slumber, as you feel the jet tremble due to the landing;you gasp yourself awake due to the strange circumstances of your awakening.

-“Good morning Miss, I hope your flight with us has been lovely. I’ll leave you a cup of coffee ,a bottle of water and some ibuprofen in the case that you require them. Mr Gojo and Mr Geto are waiting for you outside the jet so you can all head to Báisè de huā villa. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ll be taking my leave.-“ Said the flight attendant before taking a bow then leaving.

You wink your eyes in hopes that I’ll help you understand what the fuck she just said,since you slept too little, you were still a bit drunk from all the whiskey from a few hours ago. You popped an ibuprofen then exited the master bedroom which you don’t remember getting into. You notice that your top is now lingering a scent of a mens cologne, but you shrug the thought off and conclude that the alcohol is just messing up your senses.

As you strut through cabin corridor,you quickly spot the jet door.Which leads you to an unknown country full of posibilites or new found problems. You tip tap down the jet stairs in hopes of finding warmth in one of the 5 Ford Everest parked by the path way, but you soon notice that in front of you is your boss and his god mother standing proudly before 2 lines of 20 men , 10 on each side forming a hallway to the vehicles while respectfully bowing down to them. Out of instinct you decide to take a step back to process the power demonstration being held before your boss, you knew he was a shady man but you’ve also never thought of him like anything else but a coworker; as you take a step back you also realize you’ve stepped out barefoot and now you have an un pleasantly wet foot.

-“Fuck.”- You comment making heads turn your way as you practically announce your arrival, as their workers noticed you ;one of them ran over to you to place and umbrella over your head.

As your presence is known; Gojo swiftly turns around and looks at you with slight amusement sparking his blue orbs.

-“How shameful,I should fire you.”-He recites while walking over to you, while making some weird hand gestures tu one of his men.

-“Be my guest.”- you reply as you gather your hair up in a pony tail to look more presentable.-”Lovely weather isn’t it?”-You comment as you rub your feet together trying to fend off the cold.

He scoffs strolling over to you ,knowing he wouldn’t fire you in his wildest dreams, a few seconds after ;the assistant whom he was signing to handed him a box. He then proceeded to crouch his tall figure to the ground , it looked as if he was bowing down to you, then he took some slippers out of the box to then grab an ankle delicately to slip then on. As of you weren’t already nervous due to this unexpected action,the look of his men piercing you made you anxious.

-“I can put them on myself you know. Stand up you’ll get your suit dirty.”-You mumbled squatting down to take the slippers from his hands.

-“Don’t tell me what to do.”-He expressed looking you dead in the eyes as he snatched back the fluffy slipper from your hand putting them back on your other foot.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

3 figures could be seen sitting down in the main dining room of the Báisè de huā villa, it is currently 2 pm and all of you just woke up from a few hours of sleep after you guys arrived from the landing site.

You were now in an impromptu business meeting as your boss explained to you your obligations as his secretary while on this very important work trip.You timidly smiled as you see how the passion for his work ( truthfully power hunger) sparked a passion in his eyes ,as he explained to you how he wanted to add Chinese territories to his reign; starting with Shanghai.

Todays meeting was very important ,here he would be meeting with a very noteworthy drug supplier that worked with very few clients due to the quality of its goods and mainly to avoid getting dragged in between gang wars, the goal for today is to be accepted to the client list and negotiate prices.

You were perfect for the job

He knew that from the moment that Geto and he started stalking you, after seeing how you built wonderful companies from zero, that you were the only one capable of fulfilling their expectations. Yes, you were young, and many people may associate that with immaturity, but your age only highlighted your strategic thinking and endless energy.

You started to supervise some work your underclass men sent you to Japan when you noticed a clothed reflection on your computer screen.

-“Do I bore you?”-The deep familiar voice questioned.

-“Sometimes.”-You snapped back in annoyance due to his stupid questions.

He frowned from your unexpected reply , your tone making him a little sad. He knew you were a woman of firm character,a quality he admired about you ,so he started to worry of what would happen if you found out about what him and geto did.

-“Are you being sincere?”-Gojo asked in a more serious tone.

-“Dead serious.”-You reply as you smile from ear to ear at his “playful” questioning.

As soon as he realized you were playing ,the stress left his shoulders , he sighed and cackled at himself due to his behavior. He barely recognized himself, the guilt is eating him alive, he needed to makeup for it fast.

-“Want to go shopping?”

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

The busy Nanjing road if full of locals and tourist.The infrastructure of the shopping districts is breathtaking , the afternoon sunset is reflecting beautifully on the buildings decorated by big led screens and beautiful compositions of glass.

In the big sum of people, Gojo and you found peace due to the fact that, to the naked eye, you were no different from any tourist. Your boss stayed close to you as he scanned the environment with his icy blue eyes; he hid his hands in his cashmere pockets as he looked down on you.

-“I have a surprise, c’mon, follow me, princess.” - Your heart skipped a beat as you heard those sweet words come out of his pink lips. For some reason unknown to you, your boss only let out those teasing words in front of you. You decided not to think much of it since you knew he had his fair share of good-looking girls behind him. You knew your place, his secretary, nothing more.

His calloused, cold hand grabbed yours as he calmly walked through the crowd; he looked ahead so calmly. You felt embarrassed for thinking anything of his nonchalant attitude. But to him, oh man. His heart was running a thousand miles per hour; the only thing he could do to hide his blushing cheeks is to look ahead. Your hand felt so warm, so soft, so small against his; that only led him to wonder what the rest of you feels like. For a woman with such a small frame, you surely had too much attitude. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t fantasize about all the ways he could tame that cheeky attitude of yours. In the end, that white-haired man decided it was better for him to stop such wild thoughts before he started having issues controlling his breathing.

When both of you arrived at the store, the sales assistant immediately recognized the tall man beside you and promptly led you to a private room. It seemed to be a private dressing room; it was composed of a luxurious cream sofa, a extravagant white wood table, and what seemed to be another small room to dress in. On top of the table was a black suede box with a red bow that screamed open me!

You look over to the grinning figure beside you for permission, and as soon as he gives you the green light, you scramble to open the mystery box, which reveals a beautiful turquoise Qi pao with tiny white flowers detailing the side of your hip. The cloth ended at mid-knee and seemed like silk; it glided beautifully under your fingertips, and the stitching was impeccable. Once the sales assistant noticed you were satisfied with the dress, she took her leave.

-“You shouldn’t have.”-You gasped.

-“Oh, but I did.”-He sweet-talked as he started getting closer to your face.-”How about you model that piece for me as a thank you.”

-“Model for you?”-you giggled.-“I’d rather pay credit.”- You say as you searched your purse.

-“Fuck.”- He mumbles under his breath as he drags one hand on his face.-“I’m starting to think you get a high from contradicting me, when will you stop playing dumb, my dear.”-he taps your forehead with his index finger as he mutters this sentence.

You grab his hand, catching him off guard.

-“I don’t know if fooling around with me is your source of entertainment for today, but please consider that it’s not normal for a man such as yourself to grab my hand and plan surprises for me and take me to foreign countries. I’m aware it’s all for business reasons, so I beg you to keep this as strictly professional as possible.”

With a swift movement; your hand still in his, he turns you around to face the mirror as he positions himself behind you, towering over you as he hugs you with the arm you're both holding hands with. You gulp at the sight of his broad shoulders contrasting your own back, at the way you're engulfing yourself with his aroma, sweating at the way he dared to rest his head on your other shoulder just to whisper…

-“What if it wasn’t for business, what if the absolute truth was that you drive me crazy.”-He groaned as he looked intently at your cute expressions through the mirror.-“The way you walk, the way you talk, the way you make me want to have some damn morals just so I can have the right to talk to someone like you.”

You shake your head as you refuse to accept the reality of the situation you're in.

-“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Gojo.”

He bit his tongue in anger and frustration; all he could do is tighten his jaw in hopes he wouldn’t say anything stupid.

-“Good, cause all that’s not the fucking case.”-He left the room after spitting that out in resentment at the way you turned down his feelings as he was a beggar. He knew it; he’s a fucking idiot for ever having hope; all he’s done on this trip is embarrass himself in front of you. Having to swallow his feelings these 2 years drove him to insanity; all he wanted was to include you in his life’s plans, why couldn’t you accept that?

Oh, he clearly knew why.

It’s because you deserve better.

You deserve a Prince Charming who will offer you peace and warmth, someone who works a 9-5, someone who has a family life to offer you, probably someone who doesn’t have to carry a gun in his waistband to protect himself from all the bad things he’s done in the past, someone not crazy enough to kill for you or even better someone who’s not masochistic enough to live with the burden of his unrequited sentiments towards you.

But in the end, he knew he was selfish; that’s how he got to where he is today. He knew damn well you deserved better, so why did he still have the irresistible urge to steal you away, to drown you in his feelings to the point where you couldn’t deny them.

He laughed, no cackled at himself outside of your dressing room; you had no idea what you had coming.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Three champagne glasses clicked in celebration of a newfound business project. Tonight’s meeting has been a success, even though you’ve been burning your brain cells trying to decipher what the hell happened at the boutique this afternoon. You were clearly distracted but not to the point you forgot why you were here in the first place.

You sat back into your seat, participating in idle chit-chat with the supplier. Meanwhile, your tight turquoise Qi pao emphasized your waist, the slit by your thigh earning some stolen glances from your boss as he still acted indifferent towards you after today's spectacle.

Geto could already smell what was happening between you two, but in reality, he didn’t care one bit to even ask about it. So all he could do was stand by the door, keeping watch for any potential danger.

The meeting concluded wonderfully, so you said your goodbyes to the supplier to excuse yourself to the bathroom, allowing yourself to think straight for a few minutes before returning to your chaotic reality.

As you finished washing your hands, you touched your nape with your cold hands with the hopes of cooling down your body heat. After fanning yourself a few times, you exited the bathroom.

But to your surprise, you found a familiar face in the hallway.

-“Miss! You’re Gojo’s secretary right?”-The supplier asked, waving his hands at you to come over.

-“Yes, sir, can I help you with anything?”-You answered with a grin.

-“If you’re so very kind, I’d like to know what kind of jet you both traveled here in, because I’d also like one that can hold as much cocaine as yours do.”

You chuckled at the poor guy in front of you, too drunk out of his mind to comprehend what he’s saying.

-“Sir, we didn’t bring any cocaine; the only thing the plane carried were the three people that were in the room with you.”-You smiled as you explained the situation to him.

-“Don’t try to act sly with me, young woman! Your boss just told me that he secretly brought over 400 kilos in that jet of his; he brought them to sell over here while I released some of my product to him.”

As he uttered that sentence, your heart dropped to the bottom of your stomach. This morning you were used as a drug mule, and you didn’t even notice it.

You truly thought he would respect your boundaries.

How foolish.

You start to tremble as you start to imagine what could have been if the navy or the immigration officers wanted to inspect the plane and found the three of you with all those drugs in it.

You run back to the bathroom feeling sick, thinking that by slim chance your hard-worked career was almost over. No, your precious life was over if they decided to try you for drug possession in a country as strict as China, all because of his stupid greed.

You dried your sweat as you quickly mapped out an exit back to Japan without your two business partners finding out about you knowing their dirty little secret. Now you knew you couldn’t trust them; it was idiotic of you in the first place to do so.

You quickly ran to the entrance unbeknownst to the fact that Geto was trailing after you since the moment you left the dining room. Sure, he could have prevented the supplier from telling the truth, but that would’ve been even more suspicious in your eyes, so he finally had to let the truth break free.

You signaled over one of the cars that Gojo put at your service; all you hoped for was to get your passport back from the villa and take the first flight back to your home country and maybe even treat yourself to a little crying session in the taxi.

But the moment your hand met the car door handle, a cold force pulled you back by your free hand.

-“Please, baby, let me explain.”-Gojo stated out as he felt his heart rip to shreds due to the liquid pearls forming in your eyes.-“You weren’t supposed to know; I knew we weren’t gonna get caught, so I didn’t want you to know since I knew you’d get nerv-“

A smack was heard echoing the Shanghai streets as Gojo held his red cheek after his sentenced was slapped into the air since you decided to give him a taste of what a liar like him deserved.

-“I fucking hate you!”-you yelled out while pointing a finger at him while wiping your tears with the back of your other hand.-“ I wish I never met any of you motherfuckers!”-You said as you pointed to Geto and his crew.

What surprises all of them next was your ability to get lost in the busy Shanghai streets after crossing a simple street.

Gojo didn’t hesitate to chase after you into unknown territory wishing he could turn time back, unbeknownst to himself that some threatening enemies were watching close by.

*　　　　✦　　　. *　　　　✦　　　. *　　　　✦

A/n: Holy fucking shit man , i hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I hope sacrificing my spine for the time I edited this in one sitting is worth it. Any suggestions or comments let me know!! Have a good day 🥸🫶🏻💋

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yibocheeks · 16 days

Text

War of Faith Translated excerpts from the livestream where the cast watches ep 28-29 (spoilers under the cut)

Director Yao says that Wang Yang added this gesture of straightening Wei Ruolai's clothes in this scene (unscripted)

They get to the part where Wei Ruolai is being taken to the execution grounds. The MC asks Yibo: At that time was Wei Ruolai preparing to meet his death or did he think that he was going to be saved? Yibo: Who would think that there would be someone that would save him?

They watch Wei Ruolai run away from Lin Qiaosong Director Yao says about Yibo: He could join the Olympics sprint! He performed so well here.

Wang Yang (on when Shen Tunan realizes that Shen Jinzhen is the sniper who saved Wei Ruolai): [Tunan] is very conflicted, because on one hand, Wei Ruolai still lives, on the other hand, the person who saved him is Shen Jinzhen. So this was really difficult for him. Director Yao: He was always guessing that maybe his sister was a communist, a part of him had already prepared for this, but he didn't want to face the reality.

They watch Ruolai, after he has escaped from Lin Qiaosong and is alone with Niu Chunmiao. MC: At this time, director, do you think that Wei Ruolai is in a perplexed state of mind? Director Yao: Yes, because right now he is at a dead end. He has already given up his previous set of beliefs, but he has not yet found a new set of beliefs. He followed what his parents believed in, but he was unfamiliar with the communist set of values, which were different from what he knew. He had never met a communist, the only one he knew was his brother, but his brother passed away. So he didn't know the theories behind it. He wouldn't easily accept a new worldview that he was completely unfamiliar with. At this point, the two female characters helped to push him in that direction. The MC then asks Yibo to share what his thoughts are on Wei Ruolai's state of mind at this time. Yibo: I think the director's analysis is very well said. (gives a thumbs up)

Director Yao: Yibo is very good, he will immerse himself in his own imagined scenario, a certain atmosphere, in which he will then think about how the character will respond.

On Wei Ruolai's character development Director Yao: I think [the way Wei Ruolai's character develops] is more of a realistic take. A person will not think, I want to join the communists and immediately convert to that side. It's not realistic. We want the audience to believe in this process. His change happens one step at a time. Even when he arrives in Soviet Jiangxi, he didn't immediately join the Red Army. He wanted to see a bit more. Then after another incident happens, in his heart he holds a lot of resentment and hatred, there were things that he felt were unresolved in Shanghai; he met a group of lousy people and this made him angry, but there was nowhere to direct this anger. Then when he went to Soviet Jiangxi, he found the same thing that happened, but that the Red Army really seemed to treat those who are poor well. He thought, this is what I want, what he couldn't get where his shifu was, so this excited him.

Director Yao says that the little motorcycle that Yibo rode was vintage, and that it broke after Yibo rode it once.

They talk about the scene where Shen Tunan slaps Shen Jinzhen Director Yao: That day, Wang Yang's biggest dilemma was whether he should really slap her, while Li Qin was thinking about how she should respond to the slap. Wang Yang is quite softhearted. He had quite good control, he didn't actually hit her and his tears also came out. This is very difficult to control. That day Li Qin also said to him, "Ge, just go for it." But he never actually hit her. He's too softhearted. (jokingly) Once we got the scene I yelled cut right away. It was a difficult scene to film. The mentioned scene starts to play. The MC asks Yibo a question about Wei Ruolai but Yibo points to the screen and says (with a gremlin smirk): Let's continue to watch this scene Li Qin: The audience has already seen this. Yibo: Oh I haven't seen it yet Director Yao and Li Qin: Oh then watch!

The MC brings up that netizens discovered that Wei Ruolai, Shen Jinzhen, and Niu Chunmiao used the same red swallow cup, and that this was an easter egg that showed that they were all on the same side. The director clarifies that this was a coincidence.

The MC then asks: Did the actors themselves notice this detail? Yibo: I also only realized after it was pointed out.

#war of faith #translations #wang yibo #wang yang #li qin #yao xiaofeng

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