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[velarisdusk]

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Where the Smoke Settled

Eris Vanserra x Reader

summary: You live alone at the edge of the woods, content with your herbs and your quiet. Then you cross paths with Eris Vanserra in the forest—and something long-buried starts to stir. word count: 8,132 content: [ explicit sexual content, piv, no protection, eris is NOT pulling out, crying while making out sorry not sorry, mentioned physical abuse, mentioned bruises, insinuated emotional abuse, explicit language ] author's note: ALRIGHTTTTT here we go >:) me always on my eris + tiger's eye bullshit ✦ . 1k Celebration Apothecary . ✦ ember potion infused with a dash of blaze enhanced with starlight crystals whirled thank you for the request @savanah222 ! i don't think i've ever written a plot twist, idk if this is twisty enough but i tried my best lol i hope you like it!! <33

The forest has always felt like a chapel carved from light and leaf. Not holy—not exactly—but reverent in its quiet. Sacred in its stillness. Every branch an arch, every birdsong a hymn. You’ve always moved softer here, as if your steps might echo. 

Wide enough to be left alone. Wide enough to breathe. 

You walk without hurry, your basket swinging gently in your grip, a few herbs already nestled inside—soft sprigs of wintermint, a curl of birchbark. The air is cool for late autumn, sharp where it sinks through the gaps in your cloak.

It’s been twelve years today. You know that without needing to count. Your body always remembers before your mind does—waking with tension between your ribs, a restlessness you can’t place.

Twelve years since your father died.

You can’t say you mourned him.

Your fingers find the necklace at your throat. You rub the tiger’s eye pendant between your fingertips—a smooth, familiar motion. A nervous one. The stone’s warmth feels borrowed, like it’s storing something it won’t tell you.

You were hoping for goldenroot, or at least woodspore. Anything strong enough to fight the blight that’s crept through the edge of your lands—black-flecked and slow, but spreading. Your neighbors say it’s the same on their land, that something’s turning beneath the soil. You’ve tried salves, tried fire. You’ve buried salt rings and poured vinegar into the roots. Still it climbs.

The path narrows. You drift from it anyway, boots crunching over leaves softened by last night’s rain. It’s not a real trail—just a sliver of space between trunks where the sunlight drips in golden pools. You pass a standing stone—one you swear you’ve never seen before, though you’ve walked these woods hundreds of times—and something in your chest flutters, disoriented. A blink of vertigo. A breath caught sideways. You shake it off. Keep walking.

That’s when you hear it.

A low growl.

You still.

It comes again—closer this time. Low and guttural, like smoke catching on a breath.

A flash of movement—branches shattering, leaves thrown upward.

Then it crashes into the clearing.

You stumble back just as the thing barrels toward you—huge, four-legged, limned in shadow like smoke rising from fur. Its teeth flash. You scream. Brace for the bite.

It doesn’t come.

The creature skids to a halt inches from your legs, chest heaving. A smokehound. 

It sniffs, eyes wild and glinting. You try to scramble backward, but it follows—nosing at your hip, your wrist. Its breath is hot through your sleeve. It whines.

It whines.

Not a snarl. Not hunger. Something gentler, more confused. A whine.

It circles you. Sniffs again. Then lunges—not with teeth, but with joy. One massive paw slams into your chest, knocking you flat onto the forest floor. Your breath leaves you in a grunt. Panic floods in its place.

You shove at the creature’s weight, and just as your hands meet coarse fur—

A familiar whisper grazes your senses. 

A younger version of this beast, leaner and less fierce, curling beside you on a blanket. Wet nose tucked into your lap. The sound of laughter—your laughter, mingled with a deep voice that rumbled softly. 

“He's harmless,” he says , voice calm but with a hint of amusement. 

Gone.

You gasp, clutching the dirt as the creature settles beside you, tongue lolling and tail wagging like it’s just found its favorite person. It sniffs your hand eagerly, nudging you with a wet nose.

A sharp whistle cuts through the trees.

The smokehound goes still. Ears up. Perfectly trained. It backs off, slow and obedient.

Your heart thunders. You sit up, coughing into your sleeve—

And then you see him.

At the edge of the clearing.

Cloak hanging clean and still, boots wet from moss and bloodroot.

Eris Vanserra.

He stares at you like a ghost just spoke his name.

And then—

“(Y/n)?”

Your name from his mouth feels like something cracked open. Like a jar sealed too tightly, suddenly bursting under the pressure. 

You blink. “…Good morning, Lord Eris.” It’s polite. A default courtesy, the same way you might greet a merchant or a passing soldier.

But his face shifts into something colder. Hardened. He draws himself up like you’ve slapped him.

“Good morning?” he echoes, voice clipped. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

Your brow furrows. “No?”

He laughs—dry and sharp. “Right. Of course. Just a pleasant little stroll through the woods, is it?”

“…I was gathering herbs.”

His eyes rake over you like he’s looking for a lie. Like you’ve insulted him.

“Of course,” he mutters. “Back to that, then.”

You cross your arms. “Is there a problem, my lord?”

Something flashes in his expression. “Not unless you think ghosts make good company.”

You blink. “I’m sorry?”

He turns slightly, pacing a few steps like he can’t bear to look at you. The smokehound circles behind him, silent, alert.

He finally speaks again—low, scathing. “You’re very good, you know. I’ll give you that. Almost convincing.”

You gape. “What the hell is your problem?”

Eris stops. Turns. His eyes blaze—dangerous and sharp. And that’s when it hits you. 

You shouldn’t have said that. 

You shouldn’t have spoken to him like that—heir to the Autumn Court, son of a High Lord, a male who could ruin your entire life with a single word. Your stomach twists. You’re already halfway through forming an apology, throat tight, but—

“We’re done here.” His voice is a blade. Cold. Final.

He turns his back on you and walks away.

You stand there, pulse still pounding, heart racing for reasons you can’t name. Watching the smokehound trail after him.

You don’t understand what just happened.

But your chest twists something awful. 

ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚

It’s been nearly three weeks since you saw him in the woods.

You haven’t told anyone. About the smokehound, or the way it looked at you like an old friend, or the way Eris Vanserra said your name like it was a wound. The memory’s settled like damp fog in the back of your mind—too strange to touch, too heavy to lift.

You’ve done your best to forget it.

Which is why, when the letter arrives on thin, cream-colored parchment, stamped with the seal of the Forest House, your first reaction is pure, exhausted irritation.

Not fear. Not concern. Just a long-suffering sigh.

You slice it open with a paring knife at the kitchen counter, more forcefully than needed. The smell of rosemary still clings to your hands from the garden. The livestock are quiet outside. It’s meant to be an ordinary afternoon.

Your eyes skim the formal language—territorial review, upcoming assessment, recent census inconsistencies—and your jaw ticks. What the hell does the court care about your land now? They haven’t come by since before your father died. 

Then your gaze snags on the signature. 

Eris Vanserra

The ink shines faintly. Still fresh.

You stare at it for a long moment, jaw tight as you run your thumb across the name. A small, annoyed gesture. Petty.

But something flickers—like the strike of a match that never quite catches. 

Your fingers freeze, suspended over the name. A breath caught mid-motion.

Then you pull back. Not in fear. Not even in pain. Just… as if the parchment had turned unfamiliar beneath your skin.

You close your eyes. Breathe in. Out.

“Gods, I hate him,” you mutter.

You crumple the letter halfway before flattening it again, your fingertips lingering just a moment too long at the bottom. You don’t know why.

It’s just stress. Just Eris Vanserra being difficult. Just this damned court being—

You shake yourself.

You don’t dwell on it.

But it lingers.

The very next day, you’re startled by a knock at the door. 

Not a polite one—a firm, repeated rap. You open it to find two Autumn Court officials on your doorstep, a male and a female dressed in travel cloaks of deep russet and browned leather, stern-looking with clipboards in hand.

The female nods, eyes sharp. “I am Steward Arlen, and this is Assessor Maira. We’ve been sent to conduct an official inspection.”

And then your stomach drops.

Because standing behind them—aloof, arms crossed—is Eris Vanserra.

You try not to let your surprise show. He doesn’t speak at first. Just watches you. Cool and unreadable. That same cloak of smoke. That same awful, arresting stillness.

“I’m just observing,” he says when you finally glance at him, cold and clipped, like the weight from your last encounter still hangs between you.

You bristle, but say nothing of it.

The Assessor, Maira, steps forward, his stance firm and eyes sharp beneath a fur-lined hood. “You’re the landholder?” His tone is polite, but clipped.

“I am.”

He nods once, then gestures toward your fields. “We’ll need to walk the perimeter. Document conditions. Confirm acreage and boundary use.”

Arlen offers a small smile. “Water would be appreciated. Thank you.”

You move to pour two glasses—pointedly not three—aware of their footsteps behind you as they step into the cottage. Maira keeps glancing around like he’s already appraising value. Arlen lingers just inside the entryway.

Eris doesn’t come inside. 

He stays near the steps, one hand resting on the post with quiet authority.

You hand over the glasses, the officials nod gratefully. 

“Your garden’s well-kept,” she says, maybe trying to be kind. “We passed worse on the way up.”

You shrug, voice clipped, eyes scanning the plants. “You can thank that damned blight for that. It’s creeping up on the neighbors, too. If it wasn’t for the herbs I’ve been scattering along my perimeter, this place wouldn’t be standing.”

Maira’s already heading for the back door, muttering, “Let’s start with the northern edge.”

You follow them out, boots crunching in the softened earth. Eris still doesn’t come inside—instead, he walks around the house and meets you all on the far side, his presence quiet but unmistakable. He falls in step beside Maira, walking ahead with the assessor.

Arlen glances sidelong at you. “You and your neighbors should bring it to the Hall of Petitions in two weeks. It’s the best place to have these concerns heard.”

Eris’ posture tightens. Just a little. But he says nothing. 

Held twice a year, the Hall of Petitions was the one chance most citizens had to be heard directly by the High Lord. But being heard rarely meant anything changed—often, it was little more than a show of power, a reminder of who held the real control.

They walk the property, asking measured questions about irrigation, property lines, livestock. You answer easily enough—it’s your land, after all.

But it’s hard to focus with him there. Looming. 

Eris trails behind the group, saying nothing. But you can feel his gaze whenever you’re not looking, like heat crawling up the back of your neck.

They pause at the shed near the treeline. “Any enchantments?” the woman asks, crouching to inspect the wood.

“No.” You cross your arms. “Just cedar and rust.”

She hums in acknowledgment, jotting something down on her clipboard.

When they move to the small barn, the two officials step inside to inspect the beams.

You remain outside, alone.

Across the paddock, Eris stands watching you.

Your eyes meet.

His expression doesn’t change. But something flickers—something uncertain, maybe. Or restrained.

You don’t say a word. Neither does he.

A breeze lifts the ends of his cloak. One gloved hand curls loosely at his side—controlled, composed—but you catch the way his jaw ticks, the slight shift of weight like he almost stepped forward. And didn’t. 

Then the others return, thanking you for your time and cooperation. The inspection is done.

Eris lingers half a second longer. As if he might say something. As if he’s trying to decide whether he should.

Then he turns, and walks away.

You don’t watch him go.

And later that night, you find yourself pacing your kitchen, hands restless, jaw tight.

You tell yourself it’s just court business. Just procedure, even though the timing was suspicious.

And still—

You hate yourself for wondering what he almost said.

ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚

The air is sharp, tinged with smoke from distant hearths, and the great hall of the Autumn Court hums with murmurs and shifting bodies. You’ve never set foot here before; your father always kept you away, his voice low but firm when he said, “This is not a place for you.”

You remember the nights he came from these things—half-drunk and swaggering, barking about how he’d put Beron in his place. How the High Lord listened when he spoke. How the whole damn court should be thanking him. 

You’d sit stiff-backed at the table, nodding like you believed him. You never doubted the reason. He wanted you scared, wanted you to see him as powerful—even if behind closed doors he bent low before Beron’s will. 

Tonight, you stand among the crowd for the first time. Back straight, fingers curled tight around the croll in your hand—your petition, your proof, your plea. It outlines everything: the mold spreading through the valley, the crops at risk, the families who will starve if nothing is done. You’d asked your neighbors to come. Urged them to speak. 

But most of them didn’t. 

A few were far too frail to make the journey. Some muttered that it wouldn’t matter. 

And the rest…

The rest had that look in their eyes. Like they already knew what happened to people who raised their voices in Autumn. 

The hall is a cavernous space filled with dark wood and flickering sconces, the shadows thick between pillars carved with ancient runes. Beron sits at the far end, regal and indifferent, his eyes of polished mahogany sharp beneath heavy brows.

Beside him—expected, yet jarring—Eris Vanserra.

He’s seated, his posture rigid, eyes locked on you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. It’s not just observation. It’s personal. You can feel it, though you refuse to meet his gaze.

It’s hours before your turn comes. But you stand, resolute. You step forward when your name is called. The great hall hushes—just slightly. A ripple of bodies turning, subtle but unmistakable. You take your place on the stone before the dais and begin, voice steady but low—

“My name is—”

Beron’s voice slices through yours, deceptively casual. “Speak clearly, girl. If you’ve come to waste me time, at least have the decency to do so loudly.”

A ripple of laughter moves through the court. Dry. Dismissive. Your face burns. You tighten your grip on the folded scroll in your hand and draw a breath.

Then you lift your chin. Meet his gaze.

Beron watches you. Watches you, not your scroll, not your trembling fingers—your face, your stance, like he’s searching for something. Some thread he missed. Some familiar shape in the dark.

“My name is (y/n). My neighbors and I are struggling with a blight,” you say, louder now, unwavering. “It spreads faster each season. Our crops are failing. What little we’ve managed to harvest won’t last more than a few months.”

You don’t look away. Not even when the murmurs behind you grow. Not even when Beron leans back in his chair, gaze sharpening in a way that says he’s not listening to your words—he’s reading you. Looking for some thread that might unravel.

“And what causes this blight? Perhaps you’ve brought a scholar with you?” Another rumble of laughter. 

“No,” you answer. “But I’ve observed it closely. It spreads fastest from the south and—”

He raises a brow. “Ah, so you’re a farmer and a botanist. How fortunate for your village.”

You push on, refusing to flinch.

“There’s mold in the root systems. It travels through the water table. I’ve tried cutting the affected rows, even burning patches, but nothing stops it. I’ve scouted the forest for herbs—wintermint, goldenroot, woodspore—to brew as a warding tonic. It slowed the spread, but…”

“But?” Beron echoes.

“They’re harder to find now,” you say. “And the blight is gaining again.”

“Hmm.” He taps a ringed finger against the arm of his chair. “And tell me—how many acres are affected? How many mouths do you speak for?”

You swallow. “Eleven farms. Nearly eighty people, not including the children. The next village over is starting to see the same signs.”

“So not your village, but theirs as well?” He leans forward just a touch. “And what about livestock?”

“They’re thinning. No milk from the cows these past two weeks. And some of the goats—”

Beron waves a hand. “Goats,” he repeats with a sneer. “You’d have me summon an agricultural response force over a few goats.”

You say nothing. You can’t. Not without your voice shaking.

He lets the silence stretch.

“What do you propose we do?” he asks at last, almost mockingly kind. “Send a steward to walk your fields? Dispatch a healer to bless your wells? Or perhaps you’d prefer we replace your crops by magic?”

You lift your chin. “I propose that the Forest House assist in coordinating treatment. That we receive supplies—tools, seeds, parchment to track it. That someone listen before it’s too late.”

Beron studies you. A long, steady silence.

Then he turns to one of his stewards, standing near the wall like carved stone.

“The Forest House,” he says lazily, “will consider your petition.”

That’s it. A flick of his hand. You are dismissed.

But he doesn’t stop watching you. Not for a heartbeat.

Eris’s gaze doesn’t waver either, and you feel a heat bloom in your cheeks. For a moment, the hall falls away. It’s just you and those burning eyes.

Beron’s lips twitch—almost a smirk, or maybe it’s disdain. You don’t know.

And behind you, the court shifts again. Preparing for the next name. The next voice. The next ask they’ll ignore.

You bow your head and retreat from the dais, heart pounding unevenly in your chest.

You shouldn’t have come.

ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚

The forest swallows you whole and you storm through the trees like you’ve got fire in your blood.

Evening drips through the trees in slanted amber light, but you don’t notice the way it spills across the moss, don’t hear the birds going quiet one by one. You’re already moving—fast, furious, half-blind with it. Your boots tear into the undergrowth. Branches claw at your arms, your cloak. You don’t care. You don’t slow.

How dare they dismiss you so easily..

How dare Beron sneer like that—like your concerns were nothing but noise.

And how dare Eris look at you the way he did. 

The words loop in your head like a curse. Your jaw is tight enough to creak. Your hands tremble with rage.

And gods—gods, worst of all—how dare your chest ache the way it does now. Like something’s been carved out of it. Hollowed. Like there used to be something there and you should know what it was. Like half-remembered hands tried to fill it.

And you don’t know why. You don’t want to know why.

You break through a thicket into a clearing, breath heaving. You drag your hands through your hair, plant them on your hips, try to calm the fire thrumming through your veins. It doesn’t work. You want to scream. To break something. To shove all this confusion out of your body and breathe again.

A rustle behind you.

A twig cracks. 

Then: “Gods, you really handed it to him, (y/n).”

You spin. 

Eris stands a few paces back, half in shadow, half lit by the gold of the dying sun. He’s breathing harder than usual, like he followed you in a hurry. His arms are loose at his sides—tension coiled through them, restrained like a thread pulled taut.

“Said I needed to speak to a steward about a timber claim,” he goes on, voice too casual. Forced. “Don’t think he believed me.”

You blink. Once. Twice. “Leave me alone.”

He takes a step forward. Sharp. “Tell me what I did wrong.”

The words hit like a slap. You stiffen. “You showed up.”

Eris flinches—then snaps, but it isn’t sharp. It’s disbelief, raw and gutted. “Really, (y/n)? After ev—”

You scoff, start to turn—

“Don’t you walk away from me!” It explodes from him, hoarse and thunderous, loud enough to send crows scattering from the trees. It’s not just fury—it’s hurt, and something older, deeper, breaking loose. 

You whirl, eyes blazing. “What do you want from me, Eris?”

His voice shatters in return. “The truth! Why are you pretending you don’t remember?”

“Because I don’t remember! What the fuck do you want me to say?”

“Bullshit!”

“I’m not lying!”

“Then what the fuck happened, (y/n)?” His voice cracks like splintering bark. “You vanished. You stopped coming. You never said goodbye.”

You stare at him. Your chest feels too tight to hold air. Each breath fights to stay in your lungs. 

“We made a promise,” he grits out. “We made a godsdamned promise.”

You take a step back, like that’ll make it easier to look at him. It doesn’t. The clearing’s too quiet. The trees too still. Your feet shift on the moss like they’re trying to get distance—but you can’t tear your eyes away from him. 

He’s pacing now. Frantic. One hand rakes through his hair; the other curls into a fist like he doesn’t trust it not to shake.

“You said—” He swallows hard. “You said if we both survived our fathers, we’d run. We’d leave it all behind.” He manages it, just barely—like stitching words around a wound. “And I believed you.”

Then he stops moving. And Eris looks at you like you’re a wound that never healed. Like seeing you is pain. Like not seeing you was worse.

“I waited for you,” he says quietly. “I waited every week in this fucking forest, wondering what I did wrong.”

And then he yanks something from beneath his shirt—fingers trembling as they untangle a silver chain. A tiger’s eye pendant glints at the end of it. Warm gold and dark bronze. It catches the dying light like a fire trapped in amber.

“And I still fucking wear this,” he breathes, voice low and raw. “Like an idiot. Like it meant something.”

You can’t speak.

You can’t breathe.

The twin chain around your own neck suddenly burns with weight.

Your voice comes small, unsure: “Where did you get that?”

Eris’ gaze lifts. Wrecked. Red-rimmed. “You gave it to me.”

He steps closer. Doesn’t stop.

He takes a step closer, chain clutched between his fingers.

“The last day I saw you. You took yours off and said—” his throat works. “You said, ‘Now we’ll both have a piece of each other. Not like we’d ever forget.’”

He exhales like it hurts. “I must’ve replayed those words in my head a thousand times. Thought maybe if I just wished them hard enough, you’d come back.”

He stares at you like you’ve split him open.

“And then you forgot me anyway.”

For a moment, it’s silent.

He’s breathing hard. You’re frozen. 

The only sound is the wind shifting through the trees, the distant crackle of autumn leaves underfoot. A crow calls out from somewhere deeper in the forest. It doesn’t matter.

Because something else is pulling you now.

An urge. Unexplained. Inexplicable. Inevitable.

Your eyes fall to the pendant still clenched in Eris’s hand, glinting dark gold in the fading light. Your own matching chain burns cold against your skin, as if answering.

You step forward.

Carefully. Like you’re approaching a wounded animal. Or the edge of a cliff.

Eris watches you like he doesn’t trust you not to twist the knife. His breathing stays sharp, shoulders taut.

Your fingers hover.

Then close.

The moment your skin touches the pendant— everything hits.

Not a memory. Not a vision. An onslaught.

It swallows you whole.

You stagger. Almost fall. Your knees buckle under the weight of it, your hands scrambling at the air like you can catch yourself on a past that’s rushing up to meet you.

A forest clearing. This one. Years ago.

A smokehound puppy, tail thumping against the earth, licking your cheek while you laugh and try to push him off. "He just wants to play!" Eris shouts, voice cracking with joy. Sunlight through the branches, glinting off his hair like fire.

Flash.

A different day. The clearing is quieter now. Overcast. Damp from an earlier rain.

You’re sitting on the moss, arms wrapped tight around yourself. Your shirt’s slipped off one shoulder, revealing the sick bloom of bruises across your skin. Some still fresh. Some already yellowing.

Eris is in front of you, silent. He doesn’t ask who did it. He already knows. His face is thunder—every sharp angle barely contained. His hand hovers, shaking, over your shoulder. He hesitates… then exhales, and lets the magic come.

It’s warmth at first. Gentle. Spreading across your skin like a second heartbeat. You watch him watching you—his brow drawn, his eyes burning not with fire but with fury. And helplessness.

He doesn’t speak. Not at first. But when your eyes start to shine, when you bite your lip and try not to let it show, his voice finally cracks through the silence.

“I hate him for what he does to you,” he whispers. 

His hand is still there, steadying the heat, as if he can melt the hurt out of you with sheer will alone. You shake your head, blinking fast.

“Don’t cry,” you murmur.

“I’m not,” he lies.

Flash.

His arms around your waist. His face buried against your stomach. You’re standing—still, unmoving—while he kneels before you, clinging like it’s the only thing anchoring him to the earth.

He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t sob.

But his shoulders shake with the weight of it. And his breath stutters against your shirt, warm and wet where it soaks through. You can feel it—that silent unraveling. The grief he’s never been allowed to show. The kind that can’t be screamed, only endured.

One of your hands moves on instinct, threading through his hair. He leans into it without meaning to, eyes squeezed shut. Like he’s afraid that if he opens them, this moment—this shelter—will disappear.

You don’t ask what Beron said this time. You already know it doesn’t matter. The words change. The wounds do not.

So you just hold him. One hand cupped to the back of his head, the other stroking gently down the nape of his neck. Your thumb brushes the edge of his jaw. He presses closer, silent still.

Like maybe if he fits himself against you tightly enough, he’ll finally feel whole.

Flash.

Stars overhead. The two of you lying side by side on a blanket, a smokehound curled at your feet. His warmth at your shoulder. The hush of night wrapping around you like a secret.

He lifts your wrist to his lips. Presses a kiss to the inside, soft and careful. 

“If we survive our fathers,” you whisper, “we’ll run.”

He turns his head to look at you. That expression—like hope is caught between his ribs, too sharp to breathe around. “You mean it?”

You nod. “I promise.”

A beat. Then you reach for the clasp at the back of your neck. Fingers fumbling slightly. You slip your pendant free and hold it out to him, the tiger’s eye catching faint starlight.

“I want you to have it,” you murmur. 

Eris stares at it. Then at you. His throat bobs with a swallow, and after a moment he reaches beneath the collar of his tunic—draws out his own necklace. The chain is heavier, the stone smoother. But without a word, he removes it.

“Then you should have mine,” he says, voice low. Rough.

He clasps yours around his neck. You do the same with his. The stones settle warm against your skin.

“Now we’ll both have a piece of each other,” you say, voice shaking.

He looks at you like it’s the first time he’s seen you clearly. 

Your fingers find his. “Not like we’d need a reminder. Like we’d ever forget.”

The smokehound exhales, curling tighter into sleep.

Flash.

Your cottage. Dusk. You’re feeding the goats. Humming.

Then—a jolt.

Hands grab you from behind. Tight.

You freeze. You gasp. You open your mouth to scream—

And then: a voice inside your head.

Don’t scream. I can’t be seen speaking to you.

You go still. Your thoughts slam into a wall. A Daemati.

The male behind you is tall. Grim. Stiff. His grip bruising.

His men are watching me now. I have to look hostile. I’m sorry.

What—what are you doing to me?

Beron knows, the voice replies. About you and Eris. He wants it ended.

Your blood turns to ice as he continues.

I don’t want to do this. But I have to. He’s threatened my family. 

Your thoughts are cracking. Splintering.

Please—don’t take him from me.

A pause.

Then: I’ll give you an out. A failsafe. But you won’t remember it. You need something you trust yourself to find.

Your thoughts leap instantly to the pendant.

To Eris.

But before you can even say it, you hear his voice again: A necklace. So be it. Find that necklace.

And remember.

Darkness.

Then light.

Then now.

Your knees hit the earth. Hard.

You’re gasping like you’ve just broken the surface of deep water.

Your hands grip the moss. Your fingers are shaking.

Eris drops beside you, eyes wide, reaching for you without thinking.

“What—what did you do?” he demands. But his voice isn’t angry. It’s terrified.

You can’t speak yet. You blink, dazed, heart hammering against your ribs.

Your gaze finds his.

“He made them do it,” you whisper.

Eris stares at you.

“He made them take you from me.”

Your own still comes in bursts—rough, uneven, too shallow to settle you. Your hands tremble where they press into the moss, knees damp from the earth, lungs still straining to catch up. Across from you, Eris says nothing. He’s crouched beside you, but not touching. His expression is unreadable again, the way it was in the town hall—only now, there’s something crumbling beneath it. A shaking in the mask.

You look down at his pendant in your palm. At your own chest where its twin still hangs. You let your fingers close around it, not ready to let go just yet.

“I remembered everything,” you say finally. Your voice is low. Hoarse. “Or—I didn’t. Not all at once. It came in pieces. Like falling through my own head.”

Eris swallows hard. His gaze is still locked on you, but his eyes are far away, like he’s trying to relive it along with you.

You tell him everything. The puppy, the bruises, the nights in this very clearing. His hands, warm on your skin. His silence after his father’s rages. The kiss on your wrist. The promise beneath the stars.

The necklace.

The voice in your head.

The way it all fractured—how your thoughts splintered like glass and you never even felt it.

You say it aloud, every piece you gathered on your knees in the dirt. Not to prove anything. Just to give it back.

Eris blinks once, then twice. He sits back like something struck him clean through the chest. His weight hits the earth with a muted thud. One hand braces in the moss, the other drags over his face—shaky, disbelieving.

“I hated you,” he says at last. Quiet, but not cold. The words spill like something broken inside him. “Gods, I hated you for so long.”

You turn toward him. Not fully. Just enough.

“I missed you,” he says. “Every day.”

The breath catches again in your throat. Slowly, like a gesture in a dream, you reach out—not bold, not certain—just a brush of your fingertips against his cloak. The fabric is damp from where he knelt with you. Softened by weather, worn through by time.

“I missed you too,” you whisper. “I just didn’t know it.”

His gaze flickers. Jaw clenched.

“I used to think about going to your cottage,” he says. “A hundred times, maybe more. I came close once, a few years back—stood at the edge of the clearing, just… watching. But I turned back. I told myself it was better that way. Safer. If your father saw me, if word got back to mine…” He trails off. Swallows. “I thought if your father saw me—if he suspected anything—I’d just make it worse for you. I didn’t want to…” His voice drops. “I didn’t want him to hurt you. Not because of me.”

A beat of silence. 

Then your voice, quieter than before: “Eris… my father died twelve years ago.” He goes utterly still.

Like you’ve reached into his chest and crushed something vital.

“Twelve,” he repeats. Barely breathes it. “Twelve years?”

You nod solemnly.

His hand drops from where it had been braced in the moss. Knees still planted, spine bowed, he just sits there—staring at nothing. As if the weight of those years found him. 

“Twelve years…” His voice cracks, hands rising halfway before falling helplessly at his sides. “I thought—I thought I was doing the right thing. Staying away. Keeping you safe.”

You don’t answer.

His eyes are glassy now. Lost. “We could’ve had—”

He cuts himself off. Chokes on it.

Then softer, wrecked: “You were right there. You were right there.”

He drags a hand over his face like he’s trying to wake from it. Like the past twelve years just rearranged themselves around him and he doesn’t know where he stands anymore.

A bitter huff of air. “I thought you were choosing not to see me. That I didn’t matter enough.”

“I didn’t know,” you say, soft but firm. “Eris, I didn’t know.”

“I know that now,” he mutters, like the words taste foreign. “I just—I spent so long… hating you. And hoping. At the same time.” A sharp, pained laugh. “Do you know what kind of rot that puts in a person?”

You reach for him again—not bold, not certain. Just fingers brushing his sleeve.

He flinches at first. Then he stills.

He looks at your hand. At the place where you’re touching him. And then up at you again—eyes flicking over your face like he’s afraid this will vanish. Like you’ll vanish.

When he moves, it’s slow and unsure, until his fingers press against your cheek. Lets his knuckles skim along your cheekbone, the curve of your jaw, like he’s making sure you’re real. You lean into it—light as breath. Fragile as a thread pulled tight. 

Your foreheads touch. He exhales through his nose, shaky. So do you. Shared breath. Shared silence. 

The air is cooler now, the sun sinking deeper into the trees, shadow wrapping close around your ankles—but here, in this one shared pocket of silence, it’s warm. His breath against your lips. Yours against his.

“You’re back,” he whispers.

You nod. “I promised.”

The kiss comes quietly. Not with hunger, but with tremor. With the ache of something long-forgotten made whole again.

Your lips find his like memory—like muscle and magic and a thousand hours lost in the woods. He breathes into it like he’s drowning. Your fingers clutch the edge of his cloak like you might float off if you don’t hold on.

And when his arms come around you, they do so slowly. No claiming. No heat. Just steadiness. Just presence. One hand in your hair, the other at your back—like he’s gathering every piece his father broke you into and stitching them back together with the space between.

There are tears, though neither of you says a word about them.

When he finally pulls back—just enough to look at you—his voice is ruined. Cracked around the edges.

“I would have wasted every year,” he says, “if it meant this one moment.”

You swallow. “Let’s not waste the next.”

His breath stutters against your cheek.

The clearing is quiet again, but not like before—not like absence. It’s the quiet of held breath, of something waiting. The trees loom tall around you, casting long dusk-colored shadows across the moss. The last of the sun slips through the branches, catching in his hair like fire.

Eris searches your face, slow and unsure. “Here?”

You nod. Barely. The whisper of it brushes his skin.

“Unless you’d rather winnow to your—”

“No.” Your fingers twist in his cloak. “Don’t take me away from this. From you.”

And gods, the way he looks at you then—like he’s unraveling just to wrap himself around you.

His hands slide down your sides. Slow. Like he’s reacquainting himself with a body he used to dream about touching. When he presses his mouth to yours again, it’s softer. Deeper. A kiss that says I remember. A kiss that says I missed you. A kiss that says let me have this.

You feel it when the cold brushes your skin—when he slips your cloak from your shoulders, mouth never leaving yours. 

He catches it instantly. Pulls back just enough to curse under his breath, then presses his palm flat against your spine.

And you feel it: warmth blooming under his hand. Not heat, not flame—just warmth. Deep and steady, flowing under your skin. Like magic that’s missed you. The cold shrinks away, chased off by a fire that doesn’t burn.

“I’ll keep you warm,” he murmurs. “I swear it.”

Your breath stutters. Not from the chill anymore. From the way his voice sounds like a vow.

The light’s fading fast now. Dusk bleeding gold and red across the clearing. The trees tower around you, branches shifting above like they’re listening. Like they remember too.

Eris turns you gently. Your back brushes the tree—rough bark against the fabric of your dress, something real to anchor you. Something ancient and still, pressed against you while his hands tremble with motion.

His fingers span your waist, slipping under the edge of your bodice where it meets your skirt—just enough to touch skin, to drag fire across your ribs as he exhales against your mouth.

“I thought about this,” he breathes. “Every night I came back here. I thought about what it would be like. If you ever—”

You kiss him to shut him up. Not cruelly. Just desperate. As if every word he speaks chips away at the fragile grip you have on your own restraint. Your hands fumble with the fastenings of his cloak, tugging it aside. One layer. Then another. The fabric clings in folds between your bodies, caught and crumpled, and you laugh against his mouth—breathless, impatient.

He smiles—just barely. A flicker of softness through the tension lining his jaw. Then he lifts you, swift and certain, like he’s done it a thousand times before in dreams he never dared to speak of.

Your legs wrap around his waist like instinct. Like ritual. His hand braces your back while the other drags down your spine, searing through the fabric, anchoring you to the moment. The tree behind you creaks faintly with the shift of your weight, bark biting gently through your clothes, but Eris keeps you steady—closer.

“You sure?” he asks, low and rough against your ear.

You nod, breathless. Then, firmer: “I want you, Eris.”

His groan splits the space between you—wrecked, worshipful. That same sound that’s haunted you for years, unspoken and unfinished. He kisses you again, slower this time, and then his hands are at your thighs, shifting your skirts with reverent care. The cold air brushes your skin and makes you shiver, but everywhere he touches, you burn.

When his fingers find the wet heat between your thighs, he exhales sharply, eyes fluttering shut for just a second. “Fuck,” he murmurs. “You’re—gods, you’re already there.”

You grip his shoulders tighter, heart hammering in your chest, and rock your hips toward him. “I’ve been waiting.”

He doesn’t tease. Doesn’t take his time. There’s no smug smile now, no arrogance—only the ache in his touch, the reverence with which he lines himself up and pushes into you, slow and steady.

You cry out—a sharp, strangled sound—and clutch at him like he might vanish if you let go. He buries his face in your throat, breathing hard, his body trembling against yours.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, the words muffled against your skin. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.”

He gives you a moment. Then another. His thumb strokes the edge of your hip, and when he finally begins to move, it’s not with urgency—it’s with devotion. Every thrust is deep and deliberate, drawn from a place older than guilt and warmer than longing. His rhythm is reverent, like he’s trying to say all the things he never did with the motion of his body.

You hold on to him—fist his shirt, tangle your fingers in his hair—trying to anchor yourself against the tide of sensation. Your mouth finds his again, teeth and breath and heat. The world falls away until there’s only him: the slide of his hips, the shudder in his breath, the way he keeps you pressed tight against the solid strength of him like he’s trying to memorize how you feel.

The rhythm he finds is reverent. Measured. Like he doesn’t want to waste a second. Every thrust is full of ache, of apology, of remembering. Of home.

And it is home—the way you clutch his shoulders. The way his hand settles at your waist, grounding you, steadying you. Like he needs to hold every part of you at once just to believe you’re here.

There’s the rustle of leaves, wind catching the trees, the sound of your breath mingling in the hollow between your mouths. His hands slip to your hips, tightening, adjusting. You cling to him. Fist your hands in his hair, his shirt, anything you can find. Anything that says don’t stop.

Your back scrapes faintly against the tree, but you don’t care. Not when he presses in deeper. Not when his hand shifts beneath your thigh to adjust the angle, and he hits something inside you that makes your head tip back, eyes fluttering closed.

“Eris,” you gasp—half prayer, half plea.

“I know,” he whispers. His voice cracks. “I know. Let go for me.”

You do. You fall apart with a tremble that starts in your core and spills out through your limbs. The release crashes over you like a wave—bright, consuming, impossible to hold. You arch into him with a gasp, your cry swallowed by the crook of his neck as your body clenches around him.

He follows with a sound that’s half curse, half confession—low and raw. His hips stutter, the rhythm breaking, and then he’s sinking into you one final time, deeper than before, and coming apart with a ragged groan that nearly undoes you all over again.

You stay there, tangled together, breath mingling in the hush that follows. Wind threads through the trees. Your heartbeat slows.

Silence, after. But not empty.

His forehead rests against yours. His arms wrap around you, firm and slow, even as your feet find the ground again. You feel his cloak settle over your shoulders. His breath stirs the air at your cheek. He doesn’t let go.

Not for a long time.

And when he finally speaks, it’s barely more than a breath:

“You’re here.”

You lean into him, kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’m here.”

The light has nearly faded. Only the softest blue remains, like the forest has exhaled. Like it’s giving you this. Just this.

Eris presses a kiss to your temple. “Do you want to go home? I can winnow us—”

“No,” you say softly, firmly. “I don’t want to go back right now.”

His brows lift slightly. “No?”

He blinks. “Outside?”

You smirk, just barely. “You can keep us warm, can’t you?”

There’s a pause.

Then he laughs—low and surprised and real.

“I suppose I can.”

You settle again, curling into his chest. He shifts until you’re more comfortably wrapped in the cloak, one hand lifting to trace absentminded circles at your back. Fire kindles faintly between his fingers, soft as a heartbeat, keeping the cold at bay.

You yawn into his shoulder.

He doesn’t tease you for it. Just tucks you closer.

Time fades. The night deepens.

And when sleep finally takes you, it does so gently. Curled against him, surrounded by leaves and fading light, his fire a hush against your spine.

Eris doesn’t sleep.

He stays awake with his chin resting atop your head, one arm cradling your waist, the other palm pressed over your ribs as if he’s guarding your breath.

Like he’s afraid to wake and find this was a dream.

He watches you.

Listens to the steady rise and fall of your breathing.

And thinks—for the first time in years—that maybe, just maybe, he’s found something worth living for.

ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚ᨒ↟ 𖠰𖥧˚EPILOGUE˚𖥧𖠰↟ᨒ˚𖥧𖠰↟ᨒ

The pendants hang by the door now. Side by side, dulled with age but still warm to the touch. You don’t wear them anymore. You haven’t had to.

It’s been just over two years since you ran. 

Past the borderlands of Autumn. Past Prythian entirely. Across the sea, across the scar-mapped histories of the continent, until even the stars felt unfamiliar.

You didn’t pick this valley because it was safe.

You picked it because no one here knows your name.

Outside, the hills stretch golden and unbothered. The valley yawns wide and soft. There’s a vegetable garden now. A crooked little barn. A house with creaky floorboards and a roof that only leaks when the rain really wants in. Eris swears he’s going to fix it this year. You’ll believe it when you see it.

The kitchen smells like rosemary and woodsmoke. A lazy cat sleeps on the windowsill, half-sprawled near a pile of tomatoes. All twelve smokehounds are curled around the hearth like they’ve always lived here—like they weren’t smuggled halfway across the world because one red-haired fool couldn’t bear to leave them behind.

And you? You’re still not married.

Not yet.

He asked. You didn’t say no.

But neither of you were ready to turn your freedom into a ceremony. Not after what it cost to earn it. Not after how long it took just to breathe without bracing.

You wake to warmth. Not fire, not magic—just Eris. His arm heavy across your waist, his breath soft against your shoulder. His fingers trailing idle shapes down your spine like he’s not even aware he’s doing it.

His arm heavy across your waist, his breath soft against your shoulder. His fingers trailing idle shapes down your spine like he’s not even aware he’s doing it.

“Someone’ll hear us if you keep doing that,” you murmur without opening your eyes.

He hums. “What a tragedy. I might have to marry you to fix your reputation.”

You snort into the pillow. “Might have to?”

His mouth brushes your neck. “Still thinking it over.”

Outside, someone from the village shouts hello—an early rider headed into town. You shout back without moving, your voice muffled in the sheets. Eris groans like you’ve mortally wounded him.

“Unacceptable,” he mutters. “You’re going to get us invited to things. That’s how it starts.”

You kiss his collarbone in apology. He pretends it’s not enough. You do it again, and he concedes.

By midday, he’s chopping wood and you’re elbow-deep in tomato vines. You swap chores halfway through just to mess with each other. He complains dramatically about the state of your garden gloves. You mock his axe technique.

He kisses you when your hands are dirty. You bump him with your hip and pretend to be offended. He grins and promises to make it up to you.

(He does. Later. Four times over.)

Dinner is quiet. Your legs rest across his lap as you both sit on the floor in the doorway, watching the sun leak from the sky. A few stars are already peeking out, shy and silver.

Eris runs a thumb over your ankle. Thoughtful. Steady.

You tilt your head back against the doorframe. “We survived our fathers.”

“We did,” he says. “And we ran.”

A pause. 

“Do you ever miss it?” you ask. “Home?”

A longer silence this time.

Then:

“Autumn?” He shrugs. “Of course. Especially in heat like this. I miss the leaves, the quiet, the smug sense of superiority.”

You laugh. He kisses your shoulder. “But you’re better than it,” he says. “So I don’t miss it enough.”

Later, the world goes soft. 

The fire in the hearth hums. A pot of leftover stew cools on the stove. One of the smokehounds sighs in its sleep.

And if someone were passing through the hills, just for a moment, and turned to look—

They’d see a warm home with faelight in the windows.

Smoke curling from the chimney.

Two figures silhouetted by the fire, curled together in a single chair.

A life small by the world’s standards.

But enormous in love.

[jrooc]

Introducing my new multi-chap: in this smoking chaos

Summary: Mickey Milkovich has been conscripted. He joins the recruits at Crake War Camp to be trained as a super solider for a government he doesn't believe in.

Ian Gallagher is the best soldier in his age group at Crake War Camp. He's going to make the elites one day. Until a man with black hair and knuckle tattoos joins his cohort and ruins everything.

Rated: E for smut

Tags: AU: Military, dystopian, angst with a happy ending, a sprinkle of humour, meet-ugly, forbidden romance, homophobia

Chapters are short but frequent. Read from the beginning!

[m1smatched-starsigns]

Russetfur shoves roughly past Blackfoot, muttering, “I’ll get you back for this.”

Blackfoot looks over his shoulder and watches her leave. “Looking forward to it,” he purrs lowly. Then he disappears back into the pouring rain. The den falls silent.

Flintfang stares at Russetfur’s nest, contemplating. He was serious when he told Wolfstep that his BlackRusset theory is just an entertaining thought, but… isn’t it strange that so many of their exchanges have flirty undertones?

Dawncloud breaks the silence. “I don’t get it. If it’s raining then isn’t all the prey Russetfur catches going to be wet no matter what?”

“And since when do the queens refuse to eat soggy prey anyway?” Clawface asks.

“I thought we moved the fresh-kill pile to underneath a pine tree to keep it dry?” Wetfoot chimes in. “Isn’t that something Blackfoot ordered, like, two days ago?”

“I’ll do you one better.” All heads turn to Rowanberry. She looks unimpressed. “ShadowClan doesn’t have any queens right now. Not since Newtspeck’s kits were apprenticed.”

— desperate times, desperate measures

[fantasticgothicpeachsludge]

Me after finishing a mind altering fic: This… is my Roman Empire

[rowdyluv]

holy shit what

thank you, thank you, THANK YOU.🥺 I’ve been here since the start of Stanley Cup playoffs. I can’t believe 200+ (a few more joined since I took this at 5am) of you want to follow a mid 20s girl obsessed with hockey (and other sports), who rambles on about useless things, writes about hockey’s hottest men, and dreams of being an athletic trainer one day in the NHL. I honestly thought I may have ended up with maybe 10 followers when I started up this tumblr. So again, thank everyone of you who follow me, and those of you who follow in the future (if there’s more, never assuming anything) thank you! And feel free to drop me an ask let’s chat🥰

[harrysfolklore]

you belong with me - gr63

summary: george has been in love with his best friend for 15 years, but she can’t see that she belongs with him

folkie radio: MY FIRST GEORGE FIC!!!! idk why it took me so long to write for him but i hope you like this !! send your feedback <3

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon and 87,846 others

yourinstagram finally race week! can't believe it's been 10 years of watching this one from the paddock. from sneaking into george's garage during f3 days to now having proper passes (still can't get used to saying "my best friend is an F1 driver" 😅). ready to watch @/georgerussell63 crush it this weekend!

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username1 MERCEDES QUEEN

username2 you guys are literally soulmates just date already

alex_albon The OG paddock bestie 🙌

└ yourinstagram and you know it

landonorris still waiting for my batch of cookies tbh

└ charles_leclerc Get in line

└ yourinstagram LMAOOO

username3 bestie you spelled wife wrong

username4 10 years of friendship and still going strong

username5 someone convince me they're not secretly married

georgerussell63 Wouldn't be the same without you here! Even if you still support Lewis more than me 🙄

└ yourinstagram HES THE GOAT!!!

└ username1 she’s so real

username6 we need more paddock content of you two!

username7 "best friends" sure jan

username8 george's smile whenever she’s around >>>>>

username9 MY FAVORITE DUOOOOO

username10 no one does best friends better than them

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris 1,028,946 others

georgerussell63 P1 BABY!!! Thank you to everyone for the amazing support - winning here in Austria feels amazing. Special shoutout to @/yourinstagram for the lucky socks tradition since F3 - even if they still have tiny race cars on them 😂 Team did a mega job this weekend! 🏆

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username1 THIS IS MY GOATTTTT

username2 GEORGIE I LOVE YOU

lewishamilton Great drive mate! 🙌

yourinstagram those socks won you GP3 AND F2, respect the lucky socks russell 😤

└ username1 YOU KEEP HIM HUMBLE YN

└ username2 whats the real lucky charm the socks or yn

└ georgerussell63 Fine fine, the socks stay

alex_albon expose him more about the socks pls @/yourinstagram

landonorris lucky socks with race cars?? we need pics

└ georgerussell63 Absolutely not, those pics are staying buried

username3 yn has been his real lucky charm since day 1 😭

username4 not the childhood best friends to lovers story we're witnessing

username5 the socks story is too cute i can't

username6 THIS IS MY GOAT

mercedesamgf1 Brilliant drive today George! 💫

username7 how long before he proposes guys??taking bets

username8 find someone who supports you like yn supports george

username9 that post-race hug though 👀

username10 These two give me hope in love

liked by username1, username2 and 15,378 others

f1_insiderinfo🚨 EXCLUSIVE: Mercedes driver George Russell spotted having an intimate dinner with mystery girl in Monaco! The pair were seen laughing and sharing food. Sources say they've been meeting here regularly. Has Britain's most eligible bachelor finally been taken?

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username1 MY BROTHER IN CHRIST THATS YN

username2 y’all must be new here 😭

username3 HEEEELP see we’re not delusional for saying they need to be a couple

username4 ffs that’s his best friend story being weird

yourinstagram ah yes, the very romantic dinner where I stole half his pasta and made him watch tiktoks of cats. very intimate. also that "usual spot" is just where they make his favorite tiramisu 🙄

└ georgerussell63 you INHALED half my pasta, there was no stealing involved. also you promised not to expose the tiramisu thing

└ yourinstagram what, scared the other drivers will find out you have a sweet tooth Mr. Professional Athlete? 👀

username5 not them exposing each other in the comments

username6 the way they banter like an old married couple

username7 "mystery girl" my foot, that's his other half since forever

username8 someone get me a friendship like this 😩

username9 SO TRUE YN AND GEORGE ENDGAME

username10 this is peak comedy

liked by username1, username2 and 12,836 others

russell.archive A thread of George Russell and his best friend YN through the years 🤍

Slide 1: 2014 - Their high school years

Slide 2: 2015 - Their prom photo

Slide 4: 2021 - His first points with Williams

Slide 5: 2024 - Another season together

The "just friends" agenda for 10 years and counting... 🤔

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username1 WAIT THEY'RE NOT DATING??? All this time I thought...

username2 the prom photo is giving soulmates idc idc

username3 slide 4… that's love

username4 not me thinking they were secretly married this whole time

username5 the way his race engineer calls her "the mrs" though

username6 look at how young they were in the first pic 🥺

username7 their height difference stayed exactly the same I'm crying

username8 everyone saying "best friends" meanwhile they act like this

username9 SOULMATES

yourinstagram omg the prom photo 😭 remember when you stepped on my feet during the entire first dance @/georgerussell63

└ georgerussell63 excuse me? who forgot the corsage at home and made us late?

└ username1 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

└ username2 not me crying over this

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between george and yn

2019 rookies forever groupchat

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by jamessmith_eng, georgerussell63 and 82,468 others

yourinstagram date night 🍷thanks for a lovely evening @/jamessmith_eng

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username1 WAIT WHAT ABOUT GEORGE???

username2 someone check on george rn 😭

username3 the way my heart just DROPPED

alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍

username4 this has to be a joke right???

username5 10 years of analysis gone wrong...

landonorris inch resting

└ username1 LANDO WHAT DO YOU KNOW

username6 Not me having to explain to my bf that no, George and YN weren't actually dating this whole time

username7 guys can you please be normal for once? george and yn are FRIENDS stop being weird

username8 why is everyone being so dramatic?

username9 HAPPY FOR YOUUU

jamessmith_eng ❤️

liked by username1, username2 and 27,038

russell.archive The way he immediately looks for her after every race 🥺 (Hungary GP, 2024)

Scientists still trying to figure out how these two aren't together...

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username1 THE WAY HE LIGHTS UP WHEN HE SEES HER

username2 bro runs faster to her than he does on track

username3 10 year study of their relationship and still confused

username4 that hug is not giving "just friends" idc idc

username5 THE KISS HELLO

username6 not her wearing his mercedes jacket

username7 remember when he was sick and she flew across 3 countries just to make him soup??

username8 the race engineer calling her his better half I CANNOT

username9 someone tell that alpine engineer to back off please x

username10 very platonic sure

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, jamessmith_eng and 92,268 others

yourinstagram triple header concluded ‼️oh and i have a boyfriend now @/jamessmith_eng

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username1 OH-

username2 this feels... wrong

username3 not me zooming in to see if she's still wearing her matching bracelet with george

lilymhe cuties 🤍🤍

username4 THE ALPINE GUY?

username5 why is everyone acting weird like yn and george are just FRIENDS

landonorris 🤔

└ username1 he’s one of us

└username2 HEEEELP LANDO

└ yourinstagram you’re strange

username6 my heart breaks i really thought she was with george

username7 GEORGE’S SILENCE IS SO LOUD

username8 no like from george either 😭

jamessmith_eng 😍😍

└ username1 UM NO LEAVE OUR FAMILY ALONE

└ username2 go back to alpine

└ yourinstagram ❤️

username9 I JUST FELL TO MY KNEES

username10 i know george and yn are just friends but omfg this feels wroooong

liked by lewishamilton, yourinstagram and 876,366 others

georgerussell63 Gained nine places today but overall the damage was done yesterday. Congrats to LH and the team on the podium. We have another chance to fight before the summer break in Belgium. Bring it on.

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username1 no yn mention??? are you okay???

username2 first race post this without tagging yn i'm worried

username3 the way he usually writes "couldn't have done it without my lucky charm”

lewishamilton incredible drive 👏🏾

landonorris most depressing caption i've ever seen mate

└ username1 HE KNOWS 😭

└ username2 he’s so annoying

username4 where's the usual "special thanks to my favourite paddock menace"

username5 he's posted about yn in every race post for YEARS this is not a drill

username6 even the emojis are gone 😭

username7 BRO IS DEVASTATED and not only about the race

yourinstagram no selfie? 🥺 breaking tradition much

└ username1 CRYING

└ username2 george why are you breaking tradition

username8 alpine guy better make yn happy at least

username9 GEORGIE I BELIEVE IN YOU

username10 the damage in question was un hard launching her bf

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between george and yn

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by jamessmith_eng, lilymhe and 86,992 others

yourinstagram coffee runs with this oneee 🤍 @/jamessmith_eng

view all comments

username1 isn't that… george's usual coffee spot??

username2 the way she used to do this with george every race weekend 💔

username3 why does this feel wrong

iamrebeccad ❤️

francisca.cgomes i miss youuuuu

username4 BE NORMAL IN THIS COMMENT SECTION CHALLENGE

username5 she and george are endgame tho idc

username6 the wasy geroge never likes her posts with her tho

landonorris 🤐

└ username1 LANDO STOP

└ username2 he has no chill

└ yourinstagram i never understand what u mean

└ alex_albon oh honey

└ username3 IM WHEEZING

jamessmith_eng My ❤️

└ username1 i don't like his vibe george aside

└ yourinstagram love youuu

liked by username1, username2 and 16,038 others

f1gossip SPOTTED: George Russell with mystery brunette at London restaurant 👀

view all comments

username1 HELLO??' SINCE WHEN??

username2 yn's twitter likes suddenly very aggressive

username3 someone check on yn PLEASE

username4 the way she's sitting in yn's usual spot i feel sick

username5 toto watching his team's morale depend on these two idiots

username6 th groupchat must be wild rn

username7 GEORGIE WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGGGG

username8 ou george boyfriend era?

username9 this is alpine guy's fault

username10 THAT SHOULD BE HIM AND YN

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

2019 rookies forever groupchat

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by jamessmith_eng, francisca.cgomes and 83,044 others

yourinstagram date with my favorite human 💕thank you for making me smile x @/jamessmith_eng

view all comments

username1 okay this might be cute

username2 CRYING AGAIN

username3 THAT SHOULD BE GEORGE

jamessmith_eng Perfect day with my perfect girl ❤️

└ username2 ewww

└ username1 come on they're happy stop being weird

└ yourinstagram 🥺🥺🥺

lilymhe we should have a double date!

└ alex_albon we're kinda busy

└ username2 LORD

└ username3 ALEX YOU'RE INSANE

└ username4 he said im with my boy george forever

└ yourinstagram buzzkill

username5 george didn't like this post either

username6 this is how we can get rid of him

username7 why are some people so weid about them yn and george are FRIENDS

username8 i want this

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 839,022 others

georgerussell63 Some traditions never change. Pre-race selfie and coffee with my best friend #15YearsAndCounting

view all comments

username1 I LOVE THEM SM

username2 george russell choosing violence today

username3 HE TAGGED IT 15 YEARS AND COUNTING I'M SCREAMING

mercedesamgf1 🤍

username4 GEORGE MARKING HIS TERRITORY

username5 james has been real quiet since this dropped

landonorris territorial much?

└ username1 LANDO STOP THIS MADNESS

└ georgerussell63 You're so strange mate

└ username2 SURE GEORGE play dumb we'll play along

yourinstagram LOVE YOU GEORGIE BOY!

└ username1 girl he loves you but like loves LOVES you

└ username2 wake up he's in love with you

└ georgerussell63 ❤️

username6 whe said who's james we don't know her

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between george and yn

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by francisca.cgomes, jamessmith_eng and 86,370 others

yourinstagram thank you for the flowers and for always finding your way back to me @/jamessmith_eng 🤍

view all comments

username1 GIRL

username2 this is the 4th "second" chance but ok

username3 not the apology flowers AGAIN

lewishamilton 👀

└ username1 EVEN LEWIS KNOWS

└ username2 PLEASE

username4 the whole garage pretending we didn't hear them fighting yesterday

alex_albon 🤦‍♂️

└ username1 ALEX IS HIS BIGGEST HATER

username5 somebody check on george

username6 girl get up

username7 can pierre and este sabotage him or something 😭

jamessmith_eng Love you baby ❤️

└ yourinstagram love you too x

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

georgerussell63 has added to their stories

replies:

username1 GEORGE SWIFTIE CONFIRMED

username2 taylor’s version too

charles_leclerc 😂😂😂😂

alex_albon YOU FINALLY EMBRACED THAT YOU’RE TAYLOR SWIFT

└ georgerussell63 don’t push it

landonorris JUST TELL HER

pierregasly Whats this supposed to mean

yourinstagram YOU’RE SUCH A SWIFTIEEEE

└ georgerussell63 I love the lyrics of that one :)

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 98,749 others

yourinstagram 15 years of friendship and watching you live your dream from the grandstands, and i still get butterflies every time that 63 crosses the line 🤍 couldn't be prouder of my best friend. race day ready as always @/georgerussell63 (still wearing the lucky charm bracelet you got me when we were 12 btw 😉)

view all comments

username1 MY FAMILY

username2 IM SOBBING

username3 james from alpine found shaking

lewishamilton 🖤

username4 THE KARTING PHOTO I'M SOBBING

landonorris remember when she used to hide behind trees to watch him practice?

└ yourinstagram LANDO DELETE THIS

└ username1 I LOVE THEM

username5 it has always been HIM

georgerussell63 Still can't believe you kept that bracelet

└ yourinstagram it's my good luck charm, you're not getting it back russell

└ georgerussell63 Wouldn't dream of it x

└ yourinstagram better not crash today, i'm wearing it

└ georgerussell63 Wouldn't dare disappoint my number 1 fan

└ yourinstagram since karting days

└ georgerussell63 And counting ❤️

└ username1 DID WE JUST WITNESS A MARRIAGE PROPOSAL?

└ username2 THEY CANT JUST DO THIS IN PUBLIC

username6 yeah they’re in love and everyone knows it but them

username7 james alpine you are BONES

username8 JUST GET MARRIED

username9 this slow burn friends to lovers idiots in love…

username10 lando and alex screaming rn

liked by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc and 1,022,497 others

georgerussell63 Found out she's still terrible at paddle after 15 years. Some things never change 🏸

view all comments

username1 girl whatever he said wasn't THAT funny you're just in love

username2 the way she looks at him vs the way she looks at james- anyway

mercedesamgf1 🖤

username3 NO ALPINE BOYFRIEND IN SIGHT WE WON

username4 the way she only laughs like that with george

username5 yn looking at george vs yn looking at james: a thesis

kimi.antonelli Great day 👏

landonorris "terrible at paddle" mate you dropped your racquet 3 times

└ georgerussell63 Trying to make her feel better

└ alex_albon by embarrassing yourself? smooth

└ username1 THIS IS MY FAMILY

└ username2 best trio forever

username6 not yn pulling a zendaya

yourinstagram i'm not that bad!

└ georgerussell63 You hit yourself with the racquet

└ yourinstagram you DISTRACTED me

└ georgerussell63 By existing?

└ yourinstagram by being annoying

└ username3 THE TENSION IS KILLING ME

username7 ou james don’t make that face

username8 i feel like something is shifting and these two will confess soon

username9 JUST KISS ALREADY

username10 the best friends secretly in love with each other of it all

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

texts between george and yn

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc and 102,927 others

yourinstagram always 🤍

view all comments

username1 THE WAY I SCREAMED

username2 FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY

username3 that's george's hand i've studied it for 5 years I KNOW

mercedesamgf1 🥹

└ username1 toto just fist bumped lewis in the garage

landonorris took you long enough

└ username2 LANDOOO DONT CLOCK HER LIKE THAT

username4 the childhood friends to lovers pipeline never fails

username5 the easy we all just KNOW they finally confessed

username6 AND FUCK THAT JAMES GUY

username7 DO A PROPER HARD LAUCH

georgerussell63 ❤️

└ yourinstagram🤍

username8 if look idiots in love in urban dictionary a pic of george and yn shows up

username9 MY PARENTS

username10 plot twist this is actually the alpine guy 😭

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

2019 rookies forever groupchat

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 19,738 others

f1gossip GEORGE AND YN AT THE LAS VEGAS PADDOCK RIGHT NOW THIS IS NOT A DRILL

view all comments

username1 OMFG

username2 I CANT BELIEVE THIS

username3 james found crying in alpine

username4 NO WAY FINALLY

username5 THESE TWO IDIOTS FINALLY REALIZED

username6 i’m crying, this is the softest love story ever

username7 ya conspiracy girlies were always right !!!!!!

username8 we witnessed this best friends to lovers slow burn happen in real time i can’t believe this

username9 NOT ME CRYING AT THIS

username10 guys they’re KISSING like WE USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THESE

username11 george finally grew balls and confessed

username12 JAMES FROM ALPINE YOU’RE BONES

username13 WATCH GEORGE WIN TOMORROW

liked by georgerussell63, landonorris and 102,836 others

yourinstagram not just the race you won today mr russell 🏆🤍

view all comments

username1 THE WAY HE RAN STRAIGHT TO HER

username2 YOUR SMILE WHEN HE PICKED YOU UP

username3 the way james had to watch this from p7 💀

mercedesamgf1 Best vegas grand prix ever confirmed 👏

landonorris get a room

└ yourinstagram we did

└ landonorris HELLO???

└ username1 I HAD THE SAME REACTION LANDO

└ username2 no fucking way

username3 I CANNOT BELIEVE MY EYES

username4 they had been in love since forever like we could SEE IT it was about time they realized

username5 HE. GOT. THE. GIRL

username6 george russell you fucking did it

username7 IDIOTS IN LOVE SLOWBURN TROPE I FUCKING LOVE IT

username8 YABADABADOOOOO WE WERE RIGHT ALL THE TIME

username9 a love story fifteen years in the making

username10 EVERYTHING FALLS INTO PLACE

georgerussell63 Still can't believe you're mine

└ yourinstagram always have been. just took me a while to realize

└ georgerussell63 Worth every second of waiting 🤍

└ username1 IM SOBBING AGAIN

└ username2 this is the most beautiful thing ever

liked by yourinstagram, lewishamilton and 2,018,476 others

georgerussell63 Vegas ‘24. Won more than just a race tonight.

view all comments

username1 SOBBING AGAIN

username2 i still can’t quite believe this

username3 GEORGE RUSSELL THE MAN THAT YOU ARE

alex_albon boy went from you belong with me era to lover era real quick

└ georgerussell63 Stop with the Taylor Swift references

└ landonorris NEVER

└ username1 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH 😭😭

username4 THIS IS BETTER THAN ANY ROMANCE MOVIE

username5 alex and lando screaming somewhere because of this

username6 imagine being that alpine guy right now LMFAO

username7 they’re proof that real love always finds a way

lewishamilton Prod of you mate. On and off track 🖤

└ username1 AWEEEEEE

username8 best friends to lovers Y E S

username9 the fact that george waited YEARS for her and watched her with other guys but got her in the end. THIS IS TRUE LOVE

username10 this is way too pure

yourinstagram quite the victory lap mr russell

└ georgerussell63 Had to make it special for my special girl

└ yourinstagram you’re such a sap

└ georgerussell63 Your sap tho. Officially now

└ yourinstagram was always yours. just took me 15 years to realize 🤍

[djpachipikachu]

new graves chapter dropping sooooon ! once i finish all the drawings for this one,,, <3

and WOAH?? IS THAT A REDRAW⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️🚨🚨

KIND OF !!!!

anyways check out my fic over here if ur new <3

[bykshre]

We Found Love

charles leclerc x female reader (smau) 1/2

summary: you and charles were meant to be together even if the media, society and his girlfriend criticized you.

trope: childhood friends to lovers, ferrari driver x head strategist , mean gf (no hate to any of charles' gf's, ex or current.)

a/n: i know i know im the worst updater and writer ever (I'm sorry okay 😭 I'm busy and I lose motivation lol)but im back slowly but surely, and this is so new! My first F1 fic aahh :D This is very small, I just needed to get this out (monza took my heart away!) hope y'all like it hehe xx.

Months before MONZA

ursernames

life lately - enjoying the break before it's Monza ❤️‍🔥🌷🌺🌠🪽🥨🍽️🪡⌨️👠💎

iked by charles_leclerc,mlnmarta, and 1M others

lewishamilton looks like someone had fun!

⤷ ursernames obviously mate 🧉!!

charles_leclerc wannabe artistic ass 😘😻🤡

⤷ ursernames shut up donkey 🐴🫏😊

kikagomez 💫💗

liked by author

@Ynniequeenn

I'm surprised Charles isn't spending the vacay with her. Sounds fishy but they still act close 😕. I don't know man.

⤷ @chrshls: people like you suck! get a life.

charles_leclerc

everything is good 🩵

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, ursername and 4M others

joristrouche amazing!

ursernames leooo awwww

liked by author

pierregasly simba and leo meetup soon? 😂

⤷ charles_leclerc soon!

alexandrasaintmleux amores <3

liked by author

ursernames

thank you for the wishes everyone, just took another lap around the earth 🌍 🌷🌺🩵

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz and 5M others.

formula_1 happy birthday to the best-ever strategist!

liked by author

scuderiaferrari buon compleanno stargirl!

⤷ ursernames grazie mille!

charles_leclerc joyeux anniversaire ma meilleure fille

liked by author

mlnmarta joyeux anniversaire ma soeur

⤷ usernames 💞💞

oscarpiastri have a great day old lady 🥳

⤷ ursername when i catch you oscar when i bloody catch you! 😵😵

f1wags&insiders

BREAKING 🚨 Charles Leclerc and Alexandra Saint Mluex were fighting at a party! Apparently, it was the same birthday party held for Y/N's 27th birthday. What are your thoughts 💭?

liked by 40K others

alexfp i just can't stand this anymore! It's clear that something's up with charles 😐

leclecice bro, alex is straight up toxic just admit it she is NOT a paddock queen neither the IT wag ughh 🥱🥱

lestappenfpp time for charles WDC lesgoo

ynstan will charles and yn ever date? they have that CHEMISTRY yk

malenalexx it's definitely something to do with charles

⤷ unknownchaaa smartest alex fan..

ynstrategyss literally how crazy can Alex even get until they fuck up yns birthday party?! seriously i lost my respect for her.

alexandrasaintmluex

🌺🌺 floral vibes 🌺🌺

liked by joristrouche and 100K others

alexfp omg our queen 👑!!

foralexa hi alexx i hope you're doing well ❤️‍🩹 you look gorgeous btw 🤩

liked by author

kikagomez 💫😵⭐

rebeccadonaldson literally so pretty 🌺🌺

⤷ alexandrasaintmluex says the prettiest!

charlesfanpage charles not in the likes? sus.

leclecicecreammm someone's tryna churn content asap b4 the breakup LOLL

⤷ alexandrasaintmluex you're hilarious. 🥱

ynstrategyss hope y'all okay...

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

2 weeks before Monza, at the Ferrari HQ

"Hey, can we talk, please?" Charles asked Yn as the meeting begun to wrap up.

"What do you want, Charles? Does making me look like a fool on my birthday not enough?!" You said very honestly.

"No,no, mon cher, listen to me."

"I'm sorry for whatever Alex caused during your birthday party. I wanted the party to be nice and surrounded by your close friend's and family. I'm regretful I chose to bring Alex as a tag along. She wanted to go and I can't say no anyways."

"What's your point, Charles? I'm tired of this drama. I am." You said,

"Yn, we've been friends since so young, we spent almost every day with eachother, basically inseparable. Maman practically consideres you her the daughter she never had and you're really close to my family and brothers. Even with my exes you had a close bond with them."

"Mhm, that's right I loved your exes." You said slightly smiling,

"Ever since I dated Alex, she.... she liked fame and attention. Even if she didn't show it much. And when she saw us being close and basically just friends, she got mad and jealous. I didn't realise much until you told me when she confronted you."

"She reads a lot of the news, tweets and those tiktok edits of us that is all over social media. She is influenced by them. And I honestly don't get how they consider our bond romantic but not platonic."

"Alex has been fighting a lot with me past few months. We are not close, anymore. Not liked we used to be. She's constantly screaming and I can't stand her anymore."

"Mon ange, whatever happens with you and her, please... just tell me. I saw the texts she sent you and it wasn't pleasant. Why have you been keeping this a secret. Please ange, don't do it anymore."

"I don't know how longer I can sustain this relationship if it continues to be as toxic as this." Charles said earning a pout from you.

" Charlie, I wanted to see you happy with Alex. I'm sorry about what's been happening at home. I'm sorry too.." you said,

" Are we good?"

"Yeah we are, Charlie" you said, earning a tight hug from you best friend.

It's undeniable that you've always liked Charles. He was handsome, he was everything a women could've dreamt of. And obviously you're one of them. You'd never had the chance to confess and you think you'd never will. It's better to blossom a good, sustainable friendship rather than risking it all for a relationship. Your a simple person, you're critical and realistic.

When Alex confronted you about your relationship with Charles, it hit you till the pit of your heart. You begun thinking if you were too clingy or romantic with Charles. You begun distancing yourself from him thinking you were at fault. You did not want to be a homewrecker,ever.

Although Charles confrontation settled a little of your thoughts, you cannot deny the growing feelings for Charles in that heart of yours.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

charles_leclerc

P4. Deluso ma abbiamo dato tutto. Grazie a tutti voi per esserci sempre. E domani, andiamoooooo 😍

liked by carlossainz,oscarpiastri, ursername and 3M others

ursername let's get it ✨✨

speedingcharles we counting on u buddy

anthoinetrouchet let's get it ittttttttt aaa

alexandrasaintmluex 💕

ursername

story, 1hr ago

feels great to back in monza! hoping to make tifosi's proud this weekend 🇮🇹 Let's see what we can do with a P4 and P5.

RACE DAY IN MONZA.

⭐⭐⭐

@F1LiveUpdates:

"Lights out at Monza! Charles Leclerc is in the fight for P1, but all eyes are on Ferrari’s strategy today. Y/N calling the shots 👀 #Monza #CharlesLeclerc #Ferrari"

@LeclercFans:

"Y/N on the pit wall, looking like a boss. Monza is hers to win 🔥 #YN #FerrariFam"

Your heart raced as you watched the battle unfold in front of your eyes. Charles was in second, fighting tooth and nail to close the gap on the leader. Your freshly manicured nails hovered over the radio button, ready to call the next move.

The crowd roared in the background, but your focus was razor-sharp. Charles trusted your instincts, and you wasn’t about to let him down.

Y/N (over radio):

"Box, box. Let’s go for the undercut."

Charles

"Copy. Trusting you on this."

The team jumped into action as Charles pitted. Y/N watched with bated breath, hoping the strategy would pay off.

As Charles emerged from the pits, your hands clenched into a fist. The timing was perfect. They had nailed it. It will take time to pass through lando but it'll be worth it. And you knew it.

Y/N (over radio):

"P1. 35 laps ahead. Now hold it. You’ve got this."

The crowd was deafening as the final lap approached. You stood with her arms crossed, staring at the screens, barely blinking. Charles had a three-second lead, but the pressure was immense. Your heart pounded in time with the roar of the engines.

Y/N (over radio):

"Last lap, Charles. Bring it home."

You held her breath as the checkered flag waved and the roar from the grandstands signaled what you'd hoped for.

Charles (over radio):

"We did it! P1! We won, Y/N!"

Bryan (over radio)

"AND P1!"

@F1Live:

"Leclerc takes P1 at Monza! What a race! Ferrari fans are going wild! #CharlesLeclerc #Monza"

@FerrariFans:

"Y/N’s strategy today was perfection. Absolute genius. 🔥 #TeamYN #Ferrari"

@LeclercNation:

"Y/N hugging Charles after that win? Yeah, there’s something there. No one can convince me otherwise. #CharlesAndYN"

charles_leclerc

Siete i numeri 1, Forza Ferrari ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

liked by ursername,alexandrasaintmluex, lewishamilton and 10M others

ursername congrats charliee <3

liked by author

⤷ charles_leclerc couldn't done it without you, yn 😘

formula_1 tifosi's pride and joy

lewishamilton enjoy the win mate! great job

oscarpiastri congrats charles!

pascale_leclerc my boy

liked by author

⤷charles_leclerc i didnt leave you at the gransdstands this time 😂

ursername

story, 2h ago

FEVER DREAM!! GRAZIE GRAZIE TUTTI MILLE!

@LeclercNation:

"Alexandra needs to chill. Y/N is just doing her job. She’s a strategist, not a homewrecker! #TeamYN"

formula_1

leo meets his papa who just won the italian grand prix! lovely family at sight 🐕🐶🐾

liked by mlnmarta,alexandrasaintmluex and 2M others

alexfp ahh the cutiess, though she wasn't here but mah queen is always here to shine

alexandrasaintmluex 😍

lecleccreamss since when did F1 turn into a wag thing. Seriously F1? This content is unnecessary!

alexandramyqueen omg our couple is back yayyy

mimosahater @F1Dramaa post. look at this post.

@F1Drama:

"Rumors are flying that Y/N and Alexandra had a heated argument in the Ferrari garage. How much longer can this triangle last? #CharlesLeclerc #YN"

@FerrariInsider:

"It’s getting messy. Y/N is too professional to get involved, but Alexandra seems to be on edge. #F1Gossip #FerrariDrama"

@LeclercNation:

"Y/N is just trying to do her job, but Alex is clearly feeling threatened. Charles needs to step up. #TeamYN"

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

You were packing up in the garage, getting reading to back to the hotel, when Alexandra appeared at the doorway. She looked calm, but there was a fire in her eyes.

"We need to talk." Alex said

You set down your notes, bracing yourself. You replied, "About what?"

"About Charles. About you."

"I’m just doing my job, Alexandra. If you think I’m trying to come between you two, you’re wrong."

Alexandra crossed her arms, stepping closer. "I don’t know if I believe that. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. I’m not stupid!"

Your jaw clenched. "You’re right. You’re not stupid. But you’re also insecure. And that’s not my problem. I’m here because I’m good at what I do, and Charles knows that."

"Insecure?" Alexandra’s voice was laced with venom. "Do you have any idea what it’s like watching him put you before me over and over again?"

"He doesn’t put me before you, Alexandra. He’s just focused on his career. If you can’t handle that, maybe the problem isn’t me. Maybe it’s your relationship."

Alexandra stared at you, her expression hardening. "You think you’re so untouchable, don’t you? That because you’re the team strategist, you’re safe. But I see the way you want him."

You took a deep breath, stepping forward. "If you’re so sure about that, then maybe you should talk to Charles instead of blaming me."

"Look here, Charles just won the Italian grandprix. It's a big celebration for team. Let's be happy for the win, instead of bringing this up, now."

"Have a great day, Alexandra" you said and left the paddock without any hesitation.

ursername

thank you bryan, charles, carlos, fred and the team for making this strategy happen! to our biggest supporters, the tifosi ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 6M others

lewishamilton absolutely fantastic strategy yn, you made it happen 👑👑

⤷ ursername i absolutely cannot wait for you to get on this team any longer!! tysm lewis, really appreciate it 💕💕💫

charles_leclerc tu as réalisé mon plus grand rêve, merci ma belle stratège, ma meilleure amie bien-aimée 🥇🥇🥳🥳❤️❤️❤️

⤷ ursername you were behind the wheel, you make us all dream mon rêveur, mon soleil 🩷🩷

mlnmarta such a shame i wasn't able to witness this but again, ma petite sœur, tu nous fais tous rêver 🥹

⤷ ursername tu aimes me faire pleurer 🥹❤️

After the Azerbaijan Grand Prix

charles_leclerc

story, 2m ago

Part 2 when?

[ssahotchnerr]

catch me sobbing

a look into your soft domestic life with greg montgomery, your husband <3

for @scorpio-hotch my beloved <33

greg montgomery x gn!reader

word count: 2.1k

cw: food mention

also on ao3 <3

a day with greggie <3

You yawned, leaving the bedroom in an attempt to find your husband. You didn't wake up in his arms that morning, much to your discontent, and you were in need of cuddles. As you made your way downstairs the smell of breakfast alerted you of his presence and you made your way to the kitchen. 

Greg heard you walk in, glancing away briefly from the stove to send you a bright smile. “Morning, sleepyhead!” 

You winced at how enthusiastic he was, still feeling the effects of your slumber and wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed and fall asleep in his arms, but you smiled nonetheless. “Good morning.” You approached him, wrapping your arms around him from behind, pushing your face in between his shoulder blades for a second before resting your cheek at his side. He was warm against you, the material of his shirt soft and tickling your face, and you let out a soft sigh. “You're in a good mood.”

He chuckled, his shoulders shaking slightly, and you watched as he placed an egg onto a plate. "Guess it's just a good day. How are you, honey?"

"Tired," you mumbled, pushing yourself closer. It was silent for a few moments before you spoke again, voice low and tinged with sadness, “I didn’t wake up in your arms.”

He moved the pan off the stove, putting it safely to the side before turning around in your arms, looking down at you. “I’m sorry, honey, I just wanted to make you some breakfast.” He leaned down and pressed a soft loving kiss to your forehead, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as you clung onto him sleepily, burying your head into his warm chest.

“It’s okay.”

You stayed like that for a few minutes, wrapped up in his warm embrace, wanting to stay like that forever, but he soon pulled back. 

"Don't want the food to get cold," he explained, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away completely. He grabbed the plates and made his way to the table, setting them down before moving back to the counter to pour your drinks. 

You sat down and began to eat, letting out a content hum. "This is really good, Greggie." You took a few more bites. "As always, of course."

He placed two cups down on the table before taking his seat, smiling widely at the praise. There was a soft blush to his cheeks as he began to eat and you couldn't help but smile as you took a sip of your coffee. 

It was silent for a while as you both enjoyed your food, the only noise being the clinking of forks against plates or the soft thumps of the cups hitting the table. 

Greg turned to you, "Do you have any plans today?" 

“I think I’m just gonna stay home, get some rest, read a book maybe. Gotta use my day off well.”

He nodded along, “I’ll be home by my usual time so we can watch a movie if you want, get some takeaway too.” He took the last bite of his food, draining the contents of his coffee before standing up and putting both his plate and cup in the sink. “As long as I don’t have much work to do before tomorrow, either at the office or here.”

You finished your own food, following suit as you placed your stuff in the sink before turning to cup his face in your hand, thumbing across his cheek with a soft hum. "You overwork yourself, Greggie.”

He smiled softly down at you and you could feel the movement beneath your palm. “I know, I know.” His voice was soft, gentle, and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning up to kiss him. 

The kiss was sweet, filled with so much love, and you smiled into it as Greg cupped your face in his big warm hands. He pulled away with a soft hum, pressing a quick kiss to your nose, before pulling himself away from you. 

"Gotta get ready for work," he stated, making his way to the bedroom to get changed. Before he left the room, he turned back to you, "I'll wash the plates before I leave." 

"No, don't worry, I'll do it. You made breakfast, makes sense for me to wash up."

He paused, "You sure?" 

You nodded and began cleaning up, not noticing the way he stayed to admire you for a few moments longer, a loving smile on his face. 

It wasn't long until Greg was entering the room again, fully dressed in his work clothes. He placed his briefcase down before making his way over to you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a few quick kisses to your cheek, making you giggle. 

"Hm, I'm gonna miss you," he mumbled, burying his face into your neck and leaving another soft kiss. 

You laughed, "It's only for a few hours, honey, we'll survive being apart for that long." He pulled back and you turned your head to press a short kiss to his lips. "But I'll miss you too. So much."

He smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips, longer than the last, before removing himself from you. "I'll see you later."

"Bye, I love you." 

He picked up his briefcase and made his way to the door, "I love you too."

A few hours later you were curled up on the couch, legs drawn up and back against the arm of the chair, book in hand. It'd been a peaceful day, albeit a bit boring, but you were enjoying yourself. 

You wondered when your husband was going to get home, not knowing the time, but before you could check, the front door opened and in walked Greg. 

You grinned up at him, watching the way all tensions of the day melted off of him at the sight of you. He shrugged off his blazer, throwing it over the chair closest to him, dropping his briefcase to the side of it, and made his way over to you, sitting beside you on the couch. 

"Hey," you greeted, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. "How was work?"

"Eh, same old." 

"Pete almost got fired again?" 

"Of course." 

You laughed, "Sounds intense."

He laughed along with you, reaching up to loosen his tie and throw it over to where his blazer was before laying down, resting his head in your lap. His feet hung off over the opposite end of the couch, his frame too long for the couch. "Yeah. How was your day?" 

You slid the bookmark into place, putting your book to the side and choosing to focus instead on his soft features as he stared up at you. His lips were pulled up in a small, soft smile, his warm eyes full of love and adoration as he admired you back. "It was okay," you started. "Just a normal day, really."

"What did you do?" 

"Cleaned. Read. Watched TV. Read some more." 

"Sounds thrilling." 

"Oh, yeah, absolutely." 

The two of you laughed for a moment before calming down, falling into a comfortable silence. Greg's eyes slowly closed, his eyelashes fluttering beautifully over his high cheekbones, and suddenly he was turning onto his side, pushing his face deep against your tummy with a heavy sigh. You ran your hands through the short soft strands of his hair, feeling your heart clench with overwhelming love as he sighed and relaxed in your arms. 

After a short while, you cupped his jaw, brushing the pad of your thumb over his cheek. "Did you want to help me make some food?" 

He groaned and pushed himself closer, curling up against you. 

You huffed out a laugh. "Aren't you hungry, honey? Have you eaten today?" 

He spoke incoherently against you, his words muffled, but before you could ask him to repeat himself he pulled back and spoke again. "I ate lunch with Pete. I'm still hungry but I don't wanna get up right now." 

"Is everything okay?" 

He leaned back into you, "I just don't wanna move, you're so warm and comfortable."

"You don't have to move. We can order in, just like you said earlier." 

He grinned up at you as if you were a genius, his eyes lighting up, and he pushed himself up to press a soft kiss to your lips before he went back to pushing his face into your tummy, wrapping his arms around you. You smiled down at him fondly, running your hands through his hair once more. 

It took the two of you a while to decide on what food you wanted, but once you had an idea the rest was easy. You ordered the food over the phone, not having to move at all much to your husband's enjoyment. As you waited, you decided on what movie to watch once the food was there. 

After almost an hour of peaceful cuddling, there was a knock at the door. Greg let out a groan but untangled himself from you nonetheless, making his way to the door to collect the food, and with a fond shake of your head, you made your way to the kitchen to grab a few plates. 

You made your way back to the living room, placing everything down on the coffee table before settling back onto the couch, turning the TV on. Greg sorted out the food, placing various items on each plate, before passing you what you wanted and joining you on the couch, his thigh resting against yours. 

The two of you ate in comfortable silence, not needing to say anything as you ate and enjoyed the movie. Soon enough you had eaten enough, feeling sleepy from all the warm food. 

You pushed yourself into Greg's lap, pressing yourself against him as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into his neck. He felt safe, his skin having a natural warmth to it, and you felt yourself get sleepier. 

Greg wrapped his arms around you tightly, his lips brushing over your temple. "I love you," he whispered, voice soft and genuine as he rested his cheek against the top of your head. 

You smiled in your half-asleep state, letting yourself completely relax against him. "I love you too."

He let you stay wrapped in his arms until the movie ended, gently releasing you from his tight grip so that he could cup your face. You blinked sleepily up at him and he grinned, face full of adoration, and he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. "I think it's bedtime." 

You nodded along, hardly taking in what he said as you pushed your face back into his neck, drifting off once more. He huffed out a short laugh, unable to wipe the loving smile off of his face. 

"You're lucky you're cute," he whispered, pressing another kiss to your temple, but his voice was full of amusement.

Greg reached over to the side for the remote, careful not to move you too much as he did so, and switched off the TV. He tightened his grip on you before moving to the edge of the couch, steadying himself to make sure you were safe in his arms as he stood up. You tightened your grip around him, wrapping your legs around his lower back as you sighed softly into his neck. 

Once he was sure you were safe in his arms, he made his way carefully up the stairs, heading for the bedroom. He entered the room, walking over to the bed and kneeling down onto the edge, settling you down gently onto your back. 

The moment you were on the bed you stretched out, still half-asleep, before curling into yourself, blindly reaching around for the blanket. Greg smiled down at you, grabbing the blanket and lovingly covering you with it, unable to think anything other than how cute you were. 

He sat beside you, running his hand gently through your hair, admiring you. It took him a while to tear himself away, wanting to stay like that forever, but once he realised he could be in your arms instead, he got up to get changed.

The moment he was in his boxers he gently climbed into bed, stretching his long limbs and letting out a soft groan as he did so. He reached out for you, wanting to be close and pull you into his arms, but before he could, you had already moved over in your sleep, curling yourself around him, face buried into his warm chest. He smiled down at you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, before pulling you closer and drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

[maxlarens]

CL: guess the heat drives people crazy

pairing(s): charles leclerc x artist!reader

summary: you’re not used to having a boyfriend, let alone having a famous one. though you’d like to think you’re taking your new found status as a wag in your stride. charles certainly thinks so. [smau] [part 2 to this fic]

fc: faceless and some alexandra saint mleux

a/n: sorry this took so long! i was honestly kinda unsure how i wanted to do this. i wasn’t sure if i wanted to do a little storyline but i basically ended up just doing a bunch of little snapshots of their relationship 😇

@ynusername just posted…

liked by @rowan, @charlesleclerc and others

ynusername wildflowers, the waves where we met, on the way to our first dinner

chloegarelli i did that!☝🏻☝🏻

⤷ ynusername okay 😐 dont get too big for ur britches

user1 is that……..?

⤷ user2 CHARLES RIGHT?

⤷ user1 yes wtf!?

⤷ user3 you are delusional you can only see his hands

⤷ user2 AND?? he is in her likes

rowan we did it joe‼️

⤷ chloegarelli four years in the making iktr

⤷ chloegarelli i’d like to thank the american people and i’d like to thank democracy for this win

⤷ ynusername we are MONEGASQUE?

⤷ ynusername anyway u guys are the most insane couple i have ever met

⤷ rowan and you’re stuck with us foreverrrr

user4 no one is talking about how adorable this is. the waves where we met like UR KIDDING!

⤷ user5 if she is actually dating charles then he is literally the luckiest man alive

@f1wagupdates just posted…

tagged @ynusername @charlesleclerc

liked by @chloegarelli, @ynusername and others

f1wagupdates ‼️🚨 new wag alert 🚨‼️ monegasque painter yn yln has been spotted getting cozy with charles on his yacht. it’s believed they met while on holiday in italy several months ago🥺

user1 fell to my knees in the grocery store

⤷ user1 THAT SHOULD BE ME

⤷ user1 but if it had to be anyone else im glad its her

user2 oh i KNEW that was him on her instagram three months ago. vindication.

user3 stop she is so pretty

⤷ user4 like attracts like

rowan cats out of the bag @chloegarelli

⤷ chloegarelli WE DID THIS EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU

⤷ user5 thank you oh my god

⤷ user6 THANK YOU

⤷ charlesleclerc thank you😁

[❤️ by f1wagupdates]

user7 need to see them together at a race

⤷ user8 CHARLES GET HER ON THE PADDOCK

⤷ charlesleclerc 🫡

ynusername oh my god. not the picture of him pushing me into the water😐

⤷ user9 OH i love her ur honour

⤷ f1wagupdates I’M SORRY!

⤷ rowan don’t apologise its so perfect

⤷ charlesleclerc Stop I tripped!!!!!!!!! I told you!!!!!

⤷ ynusername u did NOT trip!!!!

⤷ user10 they are my everything wtf

@ynusername just posted…

tagged @charlesleclerc

liked by @charlesleclerc @f1 @scuderiaferrari and others

ynusername charles, the week we met we talked about what the monaco gp meant to you. the place your dreams took root, the one race you wanted so badly it hurt, the city you wanted to love you back. i could feel your yearning for that win as deeply as i feel for my own ambitions. i knew then that we understood each other like i have never understood anyone else in my life. and i knew, somehow i knew, that you would be on the top step of that podium. charles, i am endlessly proud of you and all the hard work you did to get here. you deserve this. i love you. and monaco loves you.

user1 charles monaco gp win you are everything to me

user2 they’re in love in love!!! WTFFFF

scuderiaferrari ❤️

user3 god let me have what they have i cant handle this

chloegarelli im tearing up yall are like my babies

user4 HE DID IT!!!!

charlesleclerc oh I love you I love you I love you

⤷ charlesleclerc How would I have done this without you?

⤷ ynusername I am so proud of you baby. I love you ❤️

⤷ user5 this interaction changed lives

⤷ user6 how do i reasonably find love after this. how am i supposed to be satisfied with anything less???

🎨 i just KNOW her caption would make the rounds on tumblr

[jrooc]

We wrote a fun little romcom airline pilots 🛫 AU full of fluff, angst and a little 🔥 for @blue-disco-lights. Happy birthday Julia 🥳 from me and @mybrainismelted 👯‍♀️

Summary: Mickey is an airline pilot who's world gets thrown upside down when his teenage crush suddenly appears as his co-pilot one day.

Rated: M

Read it now on ao3!

[m1smatched-starsigns]

Grooming herself, Featherpaw says, “Maybe he’s letting you off easy after all. Tigerstar doesn’t like to be embarrassed.”

Hawkfrost hums in agreement. “If I wasn’t his son, he probably would have thrown me in person with you. At least I’m still on the outside.”

Featherpaw can’t help but scoff. “Lucky you.”

Hawkfrost eyes her for a moment, his features contorting in thought. It makes Featherpaw hold her breath as she waits for whatever he says next.

“You missed a spot on your back.”

— out of touch, out of time (take these lies and make them true, c1)

[gallabitch73]

WHEW HOO!!! 😍😘👍😁👌💋🌹

Chapter 21 - The Eye of the Storm

Length: 8k / total length: 292k

Rating: Explicit

Chapter summary: Ian and Mickey are stuck in an unfamiliar town, being chased by the devil, when they run into even more trouble...

Summary: When Ian lands himself an internship with famous wildlife photographer Mickey Milkovich he can't believe his luck. Spending one month traveling through South Africa with his big hero is a dream come true.

Click here to read chapter 21 or here to start from the beginning!

Header by the amazing @sweetperversiongirl

[austinbutlerslovers]

Master List 100% Smut

💝Romantic ❤️‍🔥Passionate ⚠️Hardcore 🚨Deranged 🏆 TOP

••••••••••••••••• New Releases ••••••••••••••••

🔗 Contract Killer 🔗 The Ransom   🔗 Broken Pieces 

••••••••••••••••••••••••🔗Master List II •••••••••••••••••••••

🚨 Devotion 🏆 ✨

⚠️ Obsession 🏆 ✨

❤️‍🔥 Power & Control One Shot

⚠️Feyd Fantasy 1 Pleasure & Pain 🏆✨

🚨Feyd Fantasy 2 Baroness & Breeder 🏆

⚠️Feyd Fantasy 3 Kill or Be Killed 🏆

🚨Feyd Fantasy 4 Madness & Mayhem 🏆✨

⚠️ Feyd Fantasy Part 5 Endless Empire

⚠️ Feyd Fantasy Part 6 Brazen Baron

🚨 Feyd Fantasy Part 7 Honor & Heir COMPLETE

💝The Ball Game 5.27

❤️‍🔥Pleasure Palais 5.22

❤️‍🔥Marqué à Cannes 5.17

💝Attention to Detail 5.14

❤️‍🔥Desperate Desires 5.10

❤️‍🔥The Interviewer 5.8

❤️‍🔥The Tape 4.27

❤️‍🔥Before the Night Out 🏆 4.18

❤️‍🔥Unlocked Desires 4.16

💝Sugar Daddy 4.11

❤️‍🔥Quick-Take 🏆 3.27

❤️‍🔥Tied in Temptation 3.25

💝Physical Touch 🏆 3.18

❤️‍🔥 Daddy’s Doll 3.16

💝Romantic Rêverie 🏆 3.11 on

💝Without You 🏆 3.5

❤️‍🔥Cancun Heat 🏆 2.28

❤️‍🔥Don’t Choke 🏆✨2.26

💝Hideaway 🏆 2.21.25

💝Laced in Love 🏆 2.14.25

❤️‍🔥Just Between Us 🏆 2.9.25

❤️‍🔥Birthday Girl 2.7.25

❤️‍🔥Touch of Habit 1.30.25

❤️‍🔥Passenger Princess 🏆 1.28.25

💝Golden Glow 🏆 1.19.25

❤️‍🔥Overstimulation 1.16.25 🏆 ✨

❤️‍🔥Rebound Romance 1.9.25

❤️‍🔥Heavy Part 2 1.5.25

💝How We Became Us 12.25.24

💝Wrapped in Love 🏆 12.22.24

💝 Model Patient 12.14.24

🚨Edge of Desire 12.11.24

❤️‍🔥Buzzcut 🏆 ✨ 12.7.24

💝Thankful 11.28.24

❤️‍🔥Birthday Boy 11.24

❤️‍🔥New Fetish 🏆 11.22

❤️‍🔥The Massage 11.18

💝His Princess 🏆 11.13

❤️‍🔥Heavy 🏆 10.7

💝Austins Praises 10.6 *update unlinked Fics saved in Materlist II

💝One Night in Budapest 9.16

❤️‍🔥Fight Training 🏆 (Sub Austin)

💝Avec Moi 🏆 (anniversary sex)

❤️‍🔥Ride Me (kink)

❤️‍🔥Lazy Day 69 🏆

💝Cat Daddy (fluff +smut)

💝False God (meet cute)

💝Austins Bath

❤️‍🔥Wet Dream

❤️‍🔥Hollywood Authentic Feeling

🚨Austins Angst

❤️‍🔥Work Me Like Wet Clay (very first fic ever ✨)

❤️‍🔥 His Every Desire 1.26.25 Master List II

❤️‍🔥 CEO Daddy 2.7.25

❤️‍🔥 Temptation 2.21.25

⚾️ Hank Thompson Master List 🧢

❤️‍🔥Broken Pieces 6.9

❤️‍🔥 What Are We? 5.31

⚠️ Poor Judgement 5.22

❤️‍🔥False Intruder 5.1

❤️‍🔥Home Run Hank 4.29

❤️‍🔥After Hours 🏆 ✨ 9.24

❤️‍🔥Kiss it Better 10.13.24

❤️‍🔥Jealous 10.24.24

❤️‍🔥Playing Dirty 11.4.24

❤️‍🔥Zip Ties 🏆 11.7.24

❤️‍🔥Another Load 11.15.24

❤️‍🔥Wild Hearts 3.31

❤️‍🔥New Neighbor 🏆 2.2.25

💝But Daddy I Love Him 1.1.25

❤️‍🔥Benny Cross Part 1: 🏆 ✨ Handsome Stranger 7.3.24

💝Benny Cross Part 2: The Vandals 7.16.24

❤️‍🩹Benny Cross Part 3: Playing House 7.22.24

❤️‍🔥Benny Cross Part 4: ‘Til Death 8.29.24

❤️‍🩹Benny Cross Chapter 5 🏆 Broken Promises 9.4.24

❤️‍🔥Benny Cross Chapter 6: For Keeps COMPLETED 9.12.24 🚨The Chase 🎃 🏆 10.19.24

⚠️ The Good Girl (one shot) 🏆✨ 9.23.24

❤️‍🔥Until the Bed Breaks (one shot) 🏆 ✨ 9.16.24 Master List II

❤️‍🔥He Knows Things (one shot) 🏆 9.6.24

❤️‍🔥Rough Ride (one shot ) 8.4.24

❤️‍🔥Strip for Me (one shot)🏆 6.12.24

❤️‍🔥Chokehold (one shot) 6.8.24

❤️‍🔥Hard at Work (one shot) 🏆

🔗 Seeking Salvation 4.16

🔪 Patrick Bateman Masterlist 🩸

⚠️Under the Mistletoe 12.18.24

⚠️ Silk & Silence 1.1.25

⚠️ Drenched in Shadows 1.13.25

⚠️Star Student 4.1

❤️‍🔥 Wear You Out 4.16

❤️‍🔥Good Girl Gone Bad 3.26

⚠️Love/Hate 3.23

🚨 Pretty Little Secret 12.5.24

🚨 The Hunt (Austin Vampire 2) 11.19.24

❤️‍🔥The Red Dress 🏆 11.11.24

⚠️ Blood Bound (Austin Vampire ) 10.30.24

🚨 Teachers Pet 🏆✨5.4.24

🚨 Mr. Butlers Babysitter 🏆✨

🚨 Mr. Butlers Babysitter 2 🏆

🚨 Mr. Butlers Babysitter 3 🏆 5.12.24

🚨 Mr. Butlers Babysitter 4 COMPLETED 6.30.24

❤️‍🔥Eternal Ink 5.29.24

⚠️ The Belt 6.1.24

🪖 All MOTA Fics Master List 🪖

💝 Sweet as Pie 🎃

💝Major Gale Fantasy 1:He Racks You Down&Knocks You Up✨

💝Major Gale Fantasy 2 : Missing You Every Second

⚠️ Bucked & Fxcked 🏆✨

⚠️Bucked & Fxcked Part 2 One Last Buck 🏆

🚨Lake House Lessons

💝Well I’ll Be Damned

••••••••••••✍🏼 Upcoming Fic List 📖 ••••••••••••

Special thanks to @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @lindszeppelin for helping me create a masterlist 💗

[bangtanshelves]

JJK Fanfic Recos

Hi. These are some of the fanfics I've read.

I've read A LOT but I'll only be including the ones I really enjoyed reading.

I'm in the process of recollecting them, please bare with me.

I'm also updating this post often, so whenever I end finishing a fic I like I just post it here. hehe

💓 - Fluff ❤‍🩹 - angst 🥵 - smut 🚨 - violence/drugs 🤪 - crack ⭐ - fav 🎣 - latest addition to the list

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚. SERIES ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

My Love is Here - @/solemnreads

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (so much angst, I love it), 🥵 summary: "You didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s not like you purposely woke up one day and thought “Hey I’m going to fall in love with my best friend!” No, that is not at all what happened."

Knife's Edge - @/readyplayerhobi

Completed ✅

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵, 🚨 The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?

Four Seven Eight - @/jiminrings

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (fic made me cry) ,🥵 you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you.alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.

Close to you - @/muniimyg

Completed ✅ ⭐

genre: 💓, 🤪 It should've been easier than this, right?In which oc and Jungkook sleep together and he can't get over it.

Falling Skies - @/fortunexkookie

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. Once upon a time, she had called you her sun and him her moon; it was fitting, given the constant push-and-pull between you two. You used to consider him a friend, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.

Please Love Me - @/ahunderedtimesover

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 As the only unmarried Jeon and Kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. But despite developing an affection for Jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. You’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.

Lowkey - @/xpeachesncream

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹, 🥵 In order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, Jeon Jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the way of dating.

Hotter Than Hell - @/chateautae

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: ❤‍🩹, 🥵 Jungkook, Lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he's unsure of. Embarking on his journey for the answers should've been easy, if it weren't for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. Kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover Lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and Jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

An Ode to a Broken Heart - @/smoochkooks

Ongoing... ✍

Genre: ❤‍🩹 (bro I've been crying over this fic for days), 🥵 (future smut)  you’ve watched jeon jungkook slip out of your reach your entire life. now it’s time for you to finally move on, bury the past and open a new chapter. however, you’re doing it in your own, unconventional way - by publishing anonymously a novel about your miserable relationship.

Mutual Help - @/personasintro

Ongoing... ✍ (this is also posted on AO3)

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 (damn... that's all i can say)  in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

Way Back Home - @/solemnreads

Ongoing... ✍

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (please i really love angsty fics, fite me), 🥵

"Please tell me this isn't what I think it is" he asks you with tears in his eyes. You look down at the sight of your son with an oxygen mask on his face while your daughter is sleeping on the couch near the wall. You look into his eyes, broken, and sad. You've dreamt of this day for years, wondering how he would react. But here you are, hoping he could've meet the twins under different circumstances. "Yes... they're your children."

Strawberry Kisses - @/pixieknj

Ongoing... ✍

Genre: ❤‍🩹, 🥵 (Chapter 1 has been posted, but its something else) Jungkook is notoriously known as a f^ckboy who doesn’t eat p^ssy, until he finally gets alone with you…

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚. ONE-SHOTS or TWO-SHOTS ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

The Right Choice - @/honeytae

Genre: 💓 for as long as you've known Jungkook, you would think that you're witnessed all sides of him. But when you notice the way he's looking at you right now, you think you may be wrong about that.

Rainy Days - @/rklve

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Your life choices left not only yours, but Jungkook's hear broken in pieces. Now you're back in town, and just like Pluto, even if its cold and dark he tends to orbit around his sun forever.

High Demand - @/bunnyhugs77

Genre: 💓, 🥵, 🚨 A modern day Romeo and Juliet

SOJU - @/hoseoksluna

Genre: ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook gives you all that he has—his feelings, his dominance and his cum.

Lost & Found - @/kooktrash

Genre: ❤‍🩹 (if you squint), 🥵 your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.

Bottle Up Old Love - @/wintaerbaer

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

Pink Sapphire - @/jiminrings ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹(please I'm a sucker for this) ,🥵 Having Jungkook as a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he's easy to love. Your relationship's perhaps become so easy that Jungkook doesn't think sometimes— and that's what makes it the easiest for you to hate him.

Will it fit? - @/jeonsweetpea

Genre: 💓, 🥵, 🤪, ❤‍🩹 (just a little bit) So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can't exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom...

Break up with your Boyfriend - @/spideyjimin

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook, the campus fuckboy, has decided to make you his next victim, but you're far from being like any of his previous hookups. You're not single. You're actually in a very long-term relationship with Baekhyun, the man you consider the love of you life, but it's for sure something that won't stop Jungkook. He wants you, and he's going to do absolutely everything to have you, even falling in love.

Paint me naked - @/gimmethatagustd

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he's not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?

I hate you, I love you - @j/ungblue 🎣

Genre: ❤‍🩹,🥵 You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends... and you're absolutely in love with him; he's in love too—just not with you.

How to Get a Guy - @/taeshobipop 🎣

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹, 🥵 Star basketball player Jeon Jungkook has a reputation as the ultimate fuckboi. He's loved by everyone. Everyone. And you would have followed suit if he had not broken all your strict Roommate Rules™ within the first week of his stay. Jungkook, on the other hand, thinks you're absolutely bizarre. But there's a silver lining— Mr. Fuckboi here knows basketball captain Min Yoongi, your dreadfully clueless crush. He strikes up a deal with you: he'll teach you the ways of flirting if you lessen your load of rules (so Jungook can continue persuing his way through the ladies on campus). Yet the longer Jungkook spends with you, the more he realizes that maybe he doesn't want to tbe the campus fuckboi anymore. The problem is, how does he prove that to you?

[disneyprincemuke]

you look like... * tlo

pairings: max verstappen x fem!driver

word count: 1.7k

notes: i'M SORRY I COULDN'T RESIST POSTING IT BUT I PROMISE I'M STILL WRITING PRINCE LOGAN.. AND AAAALSO, THIS IS AN X READER FIC K? FELICITY AND THE NAME FLEUR IS ESSENTIAL TO THE STORY SO CAN U PLEASE

(series masterlist)

🚨 | FORMULA 1 BREAKING: Red Bull reserve driver signs to race for Red Bull in 2025.

max has to be honest: he hadn’t expected the team to take a gamble on a rookie to be in the second seat so soon. though if he were to admit to anybody, he’s incredibly impressed at the return on investment that felicity has brought about for the team.

she’s producing results, helping the team in the overall championship run for the year.

but he has a confession that he’s starting to feel guilty about, one that he hasn’t been brave enough to tell even his closest friends. he’s been avoiding felicity as much as he could, even when she’d only been their reserve driver.

that’s about a year and a half of an attempt to not get too close to the young driver at all. his conscience has been eating away at him, but he just could not get himself to be cordial and pretend outside of media commitments.

there is something about the young driver that tugs at his heartstrings.

felicity passes him in the back of the garage, tossing her helmet onto the countertop not too far from him. she tears her balaclava off as she mutters under her breath, “stupid. how could i be so damn stupid?”

she pays max no mind. she passes him and disappears into one of the private rooms in the back.

max tilts his head in curiosity. stupid?

he slowly trails behind her to where the girl resides. he peers over the doorframe, curious and slightly concerned. she paces back and forth in the room with a hand scratching the back of her neck.

she halts in the middle of the room for a moment, turned away from him. she whirls around and immediately catches his eye, making max flinch slightly. “can i help you with something?” she frowns, “i’m having a moment here. do you mind?”

max blinks. he steps away from where he hid behind the wall and leans against the door frame. “is there anything i can do to help you?”

“i really doubt you could help me,” she shakes her head and raises a hand politely. “i just wanna be alone right now. thank you, and please close the door on your way out.”

he slumps his shoulders, his stare boring into hers from across the room. it’s a look he’s seen before — in every single person in the sport at one point or another.

the rookie seems stuck, but he’s just not sure about what.

her results have been good for someone racing alongside him, which he could say is never the easiest spot to be in.

“if it’s about your practice time, don’t worry about it,” max hums, pressing his lips together to form a polite smile. “you know qualifying is always different from today. take it easy.”

truthfully, he isn’t expecting the young driver to confide in him at all. not when he’s been anything but cold and distant to her for a year and a half.

she narrows her eyes in a glare. “it’s not about the track. i’m not worried about that.”

max tilts his head again. “i’m sorry. i really wish i could help in any way.” he pats the wall and pushes himself off. “but i’ll be outside if you change your mind.”

she simply nods at him. “thanks.”

he closes the door behind him and takes a deep breath. wow, the new generation of drivers sure are not afraid to speak their minds.

though, some argue that he’d started that revolution in his younger years in the sport. it’s hard to debate against it when his friends could easily pull up evidence of his reckless and harsh words from what seems like forever ago.

there is something about the interaction with felicity that triggered something in his mind.

he takes a moment to have a seat, hand over where his heart is. beads of sweat start to form on his forehead when an image flashes right before his eyes and he’s faced with the annoying truth.

felicity reminds him too much of you.

at least when you were still around.

he isn’t left with his thoughts for too long. a figure towers over him, prompting him to look up with raised eyebrows.

“actually,” felicity starts softly. her hands are clasped in front of her as she purses her lips. “you knew fleur personally, didn’t you?”

max blinks. “i’m sorry, what?”

it isn’t like max has forbidden any mention of you to his face. it’s just that everyone simply knew better than to bring you up.

he knows everyone still tells the legend of how you disappeared, still whispering and conspiring reasons as to why you’d abruptly left all your fortune and fame. and arguably, in the middle of the peak of your career.

he always notices the stares thrown in his direction and the utter of your name.

it’s like he’d been part of your identity; your legacy. and it doesn’t help that he’s your literal ex-boyfriend.

“i’m sorry if i’m crossing a line. i’m sure you don’t wanna talk about your ex-girlfriend,” felicity sighs. she reaches back for a stray chair and pulls it beside max. she takes her seat and leans back, resting her head on the wall behind them. “i’ve just been thinking about her lately.”

max turns to look at her. “well, it seems that everyone thinks of her at some point. it’s like some urban legend some of the guys tell their rookies.”

she shakes her head. “not like that.”

“what do you mean then?”

felicity purses his lips before she moves her gaze to her car, swarmed by mechanics and engineers. “i understand it now — why she did what she did. leaving her fortune and fame for a little peace and quiet.”

max furrows his eyebrows. this is why he refuses to partake in conversations that speak of you at all.

nobody knows how you felt leading up to your disappearance.

hell, even he still doesn’t know what came over you to allude to simply run into hiding. it’s been years, and nobody can trace anything back to you.

your apartment in monaco had been sold way before your disappearance, your car’s title was transferred over to your sister, and your retirement was announced by mercedes shortly before the new season was set to start.

you hadn’t even said goodbye.

it doesn’t even help that you’re his literal ex-girlfriend.

max stands up and turns on his heel. “don’t talk about fleur to me at all. i’m not interested in your conspiracy theories as to why she disappeared.”

felicity scrambles to follow max into the paddocks, waving her hands in the air. “i’m not conspiring.”

“not interested, kid. there are plenty other people who used to know her personally too. go ask carlos or something. or, if you want, i can get you in touch with daniel.” he looks over his shoulder. “but not me.”

“i’m just saying that i get it–”

max halts and whirls around, towering over her. she takes a step back, lips pressed together with her head hung low. “i don’t care if you think you get it.”

she sucks in a deep breath, “i’m sorry.”

“you should be,” max mutters, whirling back around towards the redbull hospitality. “i don’t care if you think you understand why she did what she did. nobody does and i’m not the person you should be saying that to.”

felicity nods and takes another step back. “of course. i’m sorry i crossed a line,” she says softly. “i didn’t mean to piss you off. i just– well, i’m rethinking my place here in formula 1. i’m thinking of retiring for good at the end of the season and go back to school.”

max, for a moment, is washed over by clarity. he doesn’t speak of you much, or even think of you.

in front of him stands a girl, completely feeling like she doesn’t belong in the sport. it’s odd, because she’s in conversations of being his predecessor if he were to retire or leave the team. considering retiring is just absurd to him.

perhaps he’d been a bit harsh on the young driver. he just doesn’t allow himself to reminisce about you for too long.

he still misses you.

years ago, he’d wonder every day what drove you to a silent retirement. he knows that you would have sniped the championship from him at some point in the future.

he’d always been half the driver you were and he knew that.

some days, he would overthink himself into the thought that something bad had happened to you. at the end of the day, he drew the conclusion that you had just grown tired of the brutality of the sport and took off.

and as bitter as he is, it’s a decision he respects you for. personally, he could never leave this life of adrenaline.

there is not a day that goes by that he doesn’t regret not reaching out to you sooner. because maybe, just maybe, had he not been blind and stubborn, he would have been there for you enough to make you stay.

“oh.” max puts a hand on felicity’s shoulder and presses his lips together. “don’t make any rash decisions you’ll regret. this is a big step you’re thinking of making.”

he moves towards their team’s hospitality again.

felicity shrugs. “fleur did it. why can’t i?”

“i like to think it wasn’t just a decision she made overnight,” max shrugs with a small grin. “we used to joke that we’d retire eventually and live completely off the grid. maybe make some appearances here and there.”

felicity smiles, nodding as they enter the air-conditioned room. “do you still think about her?”

every waking moment. “sometimes.”

she tilts her head and looks up at him. “do you still love her?”

absolutely. max pats her back firmly. “don’t push your luck.”

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