#Louis Vuitton Eyebrows

[wauln]

[ Not The Louis Vuitton Beard Tattoo ]

[disneyprincemuke]

ღ this barbie has a baby

"wait a second," max blinks, hands in the air to stop the conversation from going any further than it could. the rest of the guys quiet down and slowly turn to him. "are we just going to glaze over the fact that she said she's bringing a baby to the paddocks tomorrow?"

lando furrows his eyebrows. "surely, she's not talking about an actual baby, right?" he looks around for approval. "i just assumed she was talking about a... partner... boyfriend, perhaps?"

mick shrugs, "i always just assumed she was talking about a grown person. she wouldn't bring an infant to the track."

"is no one even concerned that she's only turning 19 this year and you lot assume that she's got a baby?" alex asks, scowling at his friends as he scratches his head. "maybe she knows someone named baby?"

"she calls them 'my baby', though," mick points out as he presses his lips together. "it has to be a person, right?"

"who's betting what?" charles raises his eyebrows. "i think it's neither a partner nor an infant. a car she named baby, maybe."

max furrows his eyebrows, throwing charles a questioning stare. charles just shrugs before looking around the group to get their opinions as well.

"okay, i bet dinner that it's just a friend," alex says. "you're all going to be eating your shit when tomorrow comes."

lando shakes his head. "i still think it's a boyfriend."

"what if it's a girlfriend?"

"fine," lando scoffs, clenching his jaw as he glares at charles from the corner of his eyes, "then i think it's a partner. happy?"

mick scrunches his nose. "i am not participating in a bet about my teammate! and i've seen her car before – it's definitely not called baby."

"don't be such a party pooper," max frowns. "come on, mick, you have to have made some assumption about who or what this baby is. i still think it's an infant."

"she's 18!"

"potato, potato," max waves their concerns off. "so this is all for dinner, right? bet?"

"yeah, bet."

"mick!" she throws her arm into the air at the sight of the german entering the paddocks, waving him to approach her. "come here! i want you to meet baby!"

mick perks up, eyebrows shooting up that he's coincidentally the first face she's seen as their day starts. she's in the middle of a crowd, hands held out ahead of her as he approaches. as the crowd dissipates, he realises that she's got a stroller parked in front of her.

could it actually be an infant? oh, god, suddenly he's very concerned for her as a person in general. how could this have happened?

"this is baby!" she grins, unzipping its cover to reveal two ears and a brown sweater. "my cat!"

his blue eyes jump between the cat and the girl with a pink bow in her hair, unsure what to do with the revelation that baby is a cat. so who exactly is buying dinner tonight? "your cat? baby is a cat?"

"yes!" she beams, reaching down to scratch the feline's chin, who purrs and closes her eyes at the affection. "my dad got me baby two years ago when i finished in the top 10."

"wait," mick looks down at baby again, "is she wearing a louis vuitton sweater?"

"well, she's a sphynx," she frowns, fixing the sweater and pulling it down a little, "she gets cold sometimes." then she takes a step back with a grin, hands held out as she spins around. "and look! we match!"

"why are you spinning– oh, what's this?" lando grins, noticing the way they were conversing before he even passed through the gantry. "oh! what is that?"

"her cat," mick says through gritted teeth, eyes widening and hitting lando softly on the arm to urge him to just keep his opinions to himself. "baby. that's barbie's cat – baby."

"you named your c-" lando scowls softly, dropping his head low as the girl stops spinning. he turns to mick to hide his face away and blinks. "that's not a cat, mate. that's raw chicken."

mick simply shrugs in response. “i know.”

“she’s a sphynx! isn’t she cute?” the girl giggles, tapping lando on the shoulder. “and we’re matching clothes.”

lando stares at her. “this is baby… a cat? not even a person? not even an actual infant?”

she blinks at him. “infant? i’m 18.”

“what are you guys doing obstructing the paddock entrance and wh– hey, what’s this?” alex approaches with his hands grabbing the straps of his backpack.

“it’s baby,” lando grins, blinking hard at his friend. “a cat.”

“oh, how love– oh,” alex cuts himself off as he hunched over and looks into the carrier. he looks at lando and mick. “i imagined a more fluffy cat.”

“is that raw chicken wearing an lv sweater?” max pops up between mick and lando, furrowing his eyebrows.

“raw– she’s a cat,” she says again, pointing at baby with vindiction. “do you need to start wearing glasses?”

max grins with a small nod. he turns slightly to the men next to her. “why does her cat look something i’d find in the poultry section of the grocery store?”

“probably because it is part of the poultry section of the grocery store,” alex mutters, maintaining his grin to appease the young girl standing in front of them.

“oh, what a lovely looking cat!” charles beams, towering over the stroller wide eyed. “can i pet her?”

“yes! this is baby!” she shrieks excitedly, grabbing charles’s shoulder. she holds her arms out. “look — we’re matching clothes!”

charles’s eyes widen along with his smile. “oh! you have to get me some so i can match with you guys one day!”

“fun’s over,” max grumbles under his breath, waving his hands in the air to dismiss themselves. “i’ll see you and your chicken later.”

she furrows her eyebrows. “she’s a cat!”

— bonus

"a chicken?" oscar blinks, scowling slightly at the older men standing before him. "she has a pet chicken?"

"sphynx cat," mick points out with a tired sigh and a roll of his eyes. he turns to max, "you can't keep calling baby a chicken. you'll upset barbie."

max throws his hands in the air. "you should have seen baby! that's not a cat!"

logan tilts his head, eyebrows furrowed. "what's a sphynx cat?" he shrugs when he receives stares from them. "i'm not a cat person."

"those hairless cats," oscar explains. "have you got a picture of this said pet chicken?"

"pet chicken?" fernando had been walking by when he suddenly overhears something of a pet chicken which, in theory, is already such an absurd situation. he just has to know what is going on. "who has a pet chicken?"

"barbie."

he takes a step back. "that's some next-level rich people behaviour. not even lance owns a chicken?"

"sphynx cat," mick corrects again, looking around to ensure that she's not around to hear the guys making fun of her choice of best friend in the form of a pet. "it doesn't even look like a raw chicken, mate, it's a grey cat."

oscar grins. "so raw chicken that's expired?"

"a sphynx cat!" fernando cheers with a soft clap. "how nice! but isn't that a bit..."

"could be worse, really," mick mutters. "she told me earlier she originally wanted a tiger."

"really? what pulled her away from wanting a tiger?" logan asks.

mick sighs. "she read up that it's not very conducive for wild animals to be domesticated. she does, however, contribute tons of money to wildlife charities monthly."

taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @namgification @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @localwhoore @angsthology @renarots @elliegrey2803 @cha-hot @cosmoscoffeee @fanficweasley @sugarhoneylemons @aquangxl @omgsuperstarg @strawberryubin @lovecarsgoingvroom @mangotaitai @cherry-piee @ladyladybuggg @lethalvenus @gentlyweeps-world @spilled-coffee-cup @charizznorizz @wcnorris @storminacloud @minkyungseokie @viennakarma @leilanixx @daniellef89x @fezlvr @lavisenri @xcharlottemikaelsonx @ultraviolencesam @selsbackyard @ilove-tswizzle @riddle-me-im-sirius @kindestofkings

[starsjulia]

luxury and lace // leah williamson

leah williamson x spoilt reader

a/n : i know quite a bit of this is inaccurate, but i am currently skint and dreaming of a luxury shopping spree

warnings : suggestive, and that’s really all!!

It wasn’t uncommon for her to surprise you with spontaneous shopping trips, but this particular Saturday was different. Leah had sensed you’d had a tough week and decided that today would be all about pampering you. So, she insisted on taking you to Bond Street, one of the most upscale shopping destinations in London.

The day began with Leah picking you up early, a playful grin on her face as she drove the two of you into the city. You knew that look—it meant you were in for a day of indulgence, whether you liked it or not. But of course, you did like it. You loved how attentive Leah was, how much she enjoyed making you feel special.

As soon as you arrived, Leah wasted no time. The first stop was Gucci. The store was quiet, its plush interiors and soft lighting creating an atmosphere of luxury. Leah immediately began browsing through the racks, her eyes sharp as she sought out pieces she knew would look perfect on you.

“This one,” she said, pulling out a sleek black dress with a plunging neckline, the fabric shimmering subtly under the store lights. “You’re tryin’ this on, love.”

You took the dress from her, smirking. “Are you sure you can handle it if I wear something this daring?”

Leah’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Handle it? Babe, the real question is, can you handle the way I’ll be lookin’ at you all night?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks at her words, and without another word, you headed to the changing room. The dress fit like a dream, clinging to your body in all the right places. When you stepped out to show Leah, her reaction was immediate—her gaze darkened, and her lips parted slightly as she took you in.

“Proper stunnin’,” she murmured, stepping closer to adjust the straps on your shoulders, her fingers brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “This is non-negotiable. We’re buyin’ it.”

“Leah, it’s so expensive,” you protested weakly, knowing full well that Leah wouldn’t back down once she made up her mind.

“Price don’t matter when it comes to you,” she replied smoothly, her eyes meeting yours in the mirror with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

Before you could argue further, Leah had already signaled to the sales associate, handing over her card with a practiced ease that made you smile. As you changed back into your clothes, you couldn’t help but feel a warm glow of affection for her. Leah was always like this—determined to make you feel like the most important person in the world.

Next, you made your way to Louis Vuitton. The store was a haven of luxury, with its iconic monogram prints displayed proudly on every shelf. Leah’s eyes were already scanning the collection of bags as you walked in.

“How about this one?” she asked, holding up a chic crossbody.

You bit your lip, admiring the bag. “It’s beautiful, but do I really need another one?”

Leah’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Need? Maybe not. But deserve? Babe, you deserve the world.”

You laughed, shaking your head at her logic, but there was no denying how perfect the bag was. Leah could read you like a book, and she knew exactly what would make your heart flutter. She insisted on purchasing the bag, adding it to the growing collection of items she was spoiling you with that day.

From Louis Vuitton, you wandered into Cartier. Leah’s eyes immediately gravitated toward a delicate bracelet in gold, adorned with small diamonds that caught the light beautifully.

“This would look gorgeous on you,” she said, already envisioning it on your wrist.

You raised an eyebrow, giving her a teasing smile. “Leah, are you trying to claim me with jewelry now?”

Leah chuckled, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind and pulling you close. “Maybe I am. Should get my name engraved in it. Gotta make sure everyone knows you’re mine, yeah?”

You turned your head slightly to meet her gaze, feeling the warmth of her breath on your neck. “Not bad at all.”

The bracelet was yours before you could even protest, Leah slipping it onto your wrist herself, her fingers grazing your skin in a way that made you tingle all over. She kissed the inside of your wrist after fastening the clasp, a gesture so sweet and intimate it made your heart swell with love.

The next stop was Chanel, where Leah couldn’t resist picking out a pair of back heals.

“These are a must,” she declared. “They’ll go perfectly with that dress we just bought.”

You tried on the heals, feeling a rush of confidence as they elevated your outfit—and your height—by several inches. Leah’s approval was immediate, her gaze sweeping over you with a mix of admiration and desire.

“You really have it all planned out, don’t you?” you teased as you walked around in the pumps, testing their comfort.

Leah grinned, her eyes following your every movement. “When it comes to you, always, babe. Gotta make sure my girl’s the best-dressed wherever she goes.”

From Chanel, the two of you made your way to Sephora. Leah knew how much you loved trying out new makeup and skincare products, so she insisted you pick out anything you wanted. You spent a good hour browsing through the aisles, swatching lipsticks, testing perfumes, and sampling the latest skincare lines.

“Do you think this color suits me?” you asked, holding up a shade of lipstick.

Leah nodded, moving closer to inspect it on you. “It’s perfect. But you should get a few others too, just in case you wanna switch it up.”

You chuckled, knowing that Leah wouldn’t let you leave without at least a few bags of makeup and skincare products. She insisted on getting you a new fragrance she thought you’d love and a high-end eyeshadow palette that had caught your eye.

With several Sephora bags in hand, Leah led you to Victoria’s Secret. As soon as you walked in, Leah’s eyes lit up with that familiar glint of mischief, and you knew you were in for some fun.

The store was filled with soft, sensual lighting and racks of lingerie in every shade and style imaginable. Leah wasted no time, immediately gravitating towards a section filled with delicate lace sets. Her fingers trailed over the fabrics, picking out pieces she knew you’d love—or, rather, pieces she knew she’d love seeing you in.

“Here we go,” she said, pulling out a deep red set with intricate lace detailing that left little to the imagination. “This one’s got your name written all over it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. “Are you sure you’re picking this out for me and not for yourself?”

Leah’s grin was nothing short of wicked. “Bit of both, maybe. But mostly for me, yeah?”

Your cheeks warmed at the way she looked at you, her eyes dark with intent. She handed you the set and gently nudged you towards the fitting rooms.

“Go on, try it on. I wanna see how it looks.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “You know, I might need some help getting into this one.”

Leah didn’t miss a beat. “Is that an invitation?”

“Maybe,” you replied coyly, biting your lip as you led the way to the fitting rooms, Leah following close behind.

Once inside, the door barely closed behind you before Leah’s hands were on your hips, turning you to face her. She looked down at you with that same mischievous glint in her eyes, her fingers already toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Alright then, let’s see what we’ve got here,” she murmured, her voice low and teasing.

You giggled, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as Leah helped you out of your clothes, her touch slow and deliberate. She was taking her time, savoring every moment, and you could feel the intensity of her gaze as she watched your every reaction.

Finally, you were standing there in nothing but the lacy red set Leah had picked out, and the way she looked at you made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. Leah stepped back for a moment, taking in the sight before her, and you could see the raw desire in her eyes.

“Turn around,” she instructed, her voice huskier than before.

You did as she asked, feeling Leah’s eyes on you as you slowly spun around. When you faced her again, she had already closed the distance between you, her hands reaching out to gently touch the lace along your hips.

“Jesus, you’re somethin’ else,” she murmured, her breath hot against your skin as she leaned in closer. “I’m never letting you take this off.”

Your heart raced at the intensity in her voice, and you couldn’t resist teasing her. “You’ll have to, eventually.”

Leah smirked, her hands sliding up your sides, her touch setting your skin on fire. “We’ll see about that.”

She leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “I’m buying this, and a few more. I’ve got plans for you, babe.”

You shivered at her words, feeling a thrill rush through you. “You’re spoiling me, you know that?”

Leah chuckled, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. “And I’ll keep spoilin’ you every chance I get.”

With a final kiss to your shoulder, she reluctantly stepped back, letting you change out of the lingerie. You could see the reluctance in her eyes as you put your clothes back on, but there was also a promise there—a promise that tonight, when you were back home, she’d pick up right where she left off.

When you emerged from the fitting room, Leah was waiting with a satisfied grin, her hands already full of a few more sets she’d picked out while you were changing. She handed them to the sales associate without even glancing at the price tags, her focus entirely on you.

As you left the store, Leah’s arm draped casually around your shoulders, she leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Can’t wait to see you in all that… and then out of it.”

You laughed, playfully shoving her away. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

She grinned, unfazed. “Only when it comes to you, babe.”

The two of you continued your shopping spree, visiting a few more designer stores where Leah picked out everything from a stunning evening gown to a pair of sunglasses that she claimed made you look like a movie star. By the time you were done, you could barely carry all the bags, but Leah was right there beside you, more than happy to shoulder the load.

As you walked down the street together, the sun beginning to set behind the London skyline, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love for the woman beside you. Leah might be tough and commanding on the pitch, but when it came to you, she was the most loving, generous partner you could ever ask for.

And as the two of you made your way back to the car, Leah’s arm never leaving your shoulders, you knew that no matter where life took you, Leah would always be there, ready to spoil you with not just gifts, but with her endless devotion and love.

[kyra-cooneyx]

get her back — a.putellas x reader

summary: you annoy alexia a little too much and do whatever you can to get her to talk to you again

cute lil fluffy fic to kick off the new blog

if there was one thing you loved more than football, it was pissing off your girlfriend. alexia had the patience of a saint and you often found yourself pushing to see just how far said patience would stretch.

and that day was no different.

it had started in the morning when you decided to move things around the kitchen so that alexia wouldn’t be able to find what she needed for breakfast then you hid alexia’s car keys and phone, only giving them back to her when she threatened to make you run an unbearable amount of laps if you made the two of you even a second late for training.

you graciously decided to leave her alone in the car.

and considering how long alexia had known you, it really was stupid of her to assume that that was it for the day. so when she entered the changing room and opened her bag to find it completely empty, she knew she shouldn’t have felt so surprised.

when alexia looked over at your cubby, she found you sitting there with a cheeky grin on your face, a small—almost identical louis vuitton—bag hanging from your fingers.

you stood up and made your way over to her, clicking your tongue. “you grabbed my old one ale, you really should check your things before you leave.”

really you were lucky that all she did was snatch her bag from your hand before pushing you back towards your cubby. you could tell from the crease in her eyebrows that her patience was starting to crumble.

but instead of leaving it there like you maybe should’ve, you decided to toe the line a little more. during training, you did everything she said, not as well as you usually would but well enough that alexia really couldn’t call you out for anything.

it was around a minute after the water break had been called that you’d found yourself wedged between mapi and patri, the three of you giggling to yourselves as you squirted bits of your water over pina, accidentally getting alexia wet in the process. you had immediately apologised since your girlfriend was not the intended but given the moods you were both in, alexia simply walked away, not really believing the apology was sincere. your shoulders slumped, watching her retreating figure. and until lunchtime, you gave alexia the space she clearly wanted but wouldn’t outright ask for in front of your teammates.

as you grabbed your food, you saw alexia sat with some of the other girls, laughing at something vicky had said. so assuming the blonde had put what happened behind her, you took the empty seat next to her, joining the conversation with ease.

when alexia lifted her fork and you playfully knocked it against yours, you weren’t expecting her to shuffle away from you at all, never mind as quick as she did. much to your dismay, every playful attempt you made at getting your girlfriends attention had either been met with stony silence or a hard look, both of which left you deflated.

so again, you left her alone for the remainder of lunch. and you had been successful in leaving her alone until everyone started filing into the changing room to go home.

once it had started emptying, you shuffled over to alexia, looking up at her hopefully. the huff you let out at the lack of reaction almost made alexia break and if you were still looking at her, you’d have seen the corner of her mouth quirk.

“ale,” you whispered, eyeing the spare hoodie that sat mockingly in her cubby. any other day you would’ve snatched it without a second thought. and if you’d known that alexia’s genuine annoyance had long faded, you’d have done so again. “can you stop ignoring me now? i miss you.”

when that got no reaction, you began gently banging your forehead against her arm, muttering her name under your breath over and over.

after another minute of doing that, you sighed and took a step back. “come over to my place in two hours, i guarantee you’ll be talking to me by the end of the night.”

you really weren’t sure if alexia would come so when your front door finally opened, you perked up. and when alexia rounded the corner, she found you standing by the table, smiling proudly, where her favourite takeout was plated and her favourite flowers sat in a vase.

the smile that spread across alexia’s face had you sighing in relief. “i did good, right?”

“si, muy buena, mi amor.”

you blushed and motioned for her to sit down, the two of you eating in comfortable silence. once you’d both finished, you glanced over at her. “i’m sorry about today ale, i really didn’t mean to annoy you so much. and i really didn’t mean to hit you with that water.”

you watched as alexia stood, making her way over to you and pulling you up into a hug. you melted into her arms and she kissed your head. “i know.”

“and yet you made me believe otherwise, you’re so mean.”

“maybe. but you love me.”

“yeah, i guess i do.”

[whorekneecentral]

A Sandy Christmas

Sugar Daddy!Jenson Button x Fem!Reader

Warnings: the iconic sugar daddy JB, college aged reader (over 20), expensive vacations, gift giving is his love language, you're both soooo all up on each other, the use of daddy both in a sexual and non sexual context, thanking him in good way ;), oral (m!receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), hair pulling, some old man teasing at the end.

Word Count: 1,714

Author's Note: this is for my og jenson girlies that were here from the start, dedicated to the anon that sent in the first sd!jb ask cause you started all of this pookie!!

merry smutmas series

--

Jenson takes you on a dream vacation over the holidays but still makes sure you’ve got a gift to open come Christmas morning.

Exam season is killing you, mentally and physically.

Every bone in your body hurt from being hunched over at your desk for 18 hours a day and your brain felt like it was going to explode if you kept it up for much longer.

Jenson knew as much and he also knew your exam schedule; he couldn't bear to see his girl like that so he did the one thing he did best.

He whisked you away the moment your final exam was over. He knew it'd be a welcomed distraction given that you'd be returning home for the new years; your obnoxious sister was getting married to her high school sweetheart - you'd rather fall down the stairs than attend the wedding but Jenson promised to take you in to trade your car for a new one if you went.

To be fair, he did just get you the car 2 years ago but he figured he needed some sort of reward to get you to go. If he could join you at the wedding, he would but alas he can't.

Sunny Bora Bora was a welcomed distraction; the sunshine, the beaches, the endless cocktails and cock, were keeping you happy.

The first few days were you and Jenson rolling around in bed, lazing and eating whenever, barely getting dressed and spending sun up to sun down on the beach. You had everything you needed right there.

Despite it just being you and Jenson, he rented a whole villa. All the privacy in the world for you two; it was more so, so he could fuck you anywhere he liked but I digress.

Christmas morning and you're woken not by the sunshine but the feeling of Jenson's stubble on your neck.

"Merry Christmas, pretty girl."

You hum, a hand on his jaw. "Merry Christmas, Jense."

"C'mon, I have something to show you." He whispers in your ear, not giving you a moment to gather yourself. Instead he pulls you out of bed, his hand in yours as you sleepily follow him though the villa.

There's a massive Christmas tree by the windows, right in the middle but that was there when you arrived. What wasn't there before were all the gifts surrounding the tree.

"Jenson," you stop, looking at him. There's a grin on his face. "You didn't."

"I couldn't let Christmas pass without giving you a gift." He smiles, kissing your temple as he sits on the couch.

"We agreed that this trip was my Christmas gift."

"But the trip is for me too, so it can't count. Loophole baby," he raises his eyebrows, almost as high as his ego. You huff, "this is more than a gift, Jenson."

"You're a good girl, I'd buy you the world if I could." He tells you, smiling as you kiss him.

"I don't need the world, Jenson." You tell him, sitting in front of the tree. There are at least 20 bags and boxes neatly wrapped and set under the tree.

"I'd still buy it for you, princess." He smiles, taking a sip of his coffee as you unwrapped your gifts one by one; Gucci, Prada, Van Clef, Louis Vuitton - you name it, it was under the tree.

You had no idea how you'd get it all back home.

You thank him, doing a little try on haul as you unwrap the gifts. Jenson smiles, sitting comfortable as he watches you model your gifts for him.

"Happy?" He asks, patting his thigh. You sit yourself on his lap, an arm over his shoulder as you lean into him.

"Beyond happy," you whispered against his lips. "Thank you daddy."

"Anything for you, baby."

The two of you go about your day, you'll be leaving your little paradise tomorrow and returning to reality so you were trying to soak up the last of the sunshine. Lazing by the water, you watched as Jenson attempted to surf, gave up and decided on a swim instead, the man came back to kiss you, dripping the sea water all over you.

You push him away, giggling as he tries to grab at you. You rolled away, getting up and running from him; Jenson chased you down the beach right back to the villa.

Jenson planned dinner for the two of you, a little restaurant not too far from your villa. You wined and dined, chatting about his work and your plans not to strangle your sister with her veil. He assured you that you'd be fine and that as soon as the wedding was over, you could return home to him.

Upon returning, you decide to pack. This way you two could spend more time in bed in the morning rather than having to rush and pack then.

Jenson's back is to you as you bring in the last of your presents from the living room. He'd manage to fold what you had brought with you into the one suitcase opposed to the two it was in originally and had been trying to fix your gifts into the empty one.

He feels your arm wrap around his waist, fingers drumming against his midriff as you watch him put the boxes into the suitcase.

You're on your tiptoes, a kiss pressed to his jaw; Jenson thinks it's innocent enough and yet, he feels your lips drop lower. From his jaw to his neck and your fingers are pulling at his shirt collar, trying to expose more skin.

"Sweetheart," he whispers, swatting away your wandering hands. "We need to pack."

"Mhm hm," you turn him to face you, your hand on his jaw when you kiss him. Jenson leans on the edge of the bed, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him

He was easy like that, a kiss from you and he's like putty in your hands.

He watches as your fingers trail down the front of his shirt, sliding under the hem of it. Jenson takes that as his hint to take it off, tossing it on the floor somewhere. Your hand wanders further down, brushing over the cold metal of his belt. 

Jenson smiles, pecking your lips softly. "Let me thank you," you whispered against his lips. His brows furrow, "what for?"

"Everything," you tell him, sinking down onto your knees in front of him.

Jenson undoes his belt and the button, “open.” 

Without hesitation, your mouth opens and you’re looking up at him once again. He slaps your tongue with his cock softly, waiting for a reaction. The slight curve of your lips was enough for him to know it was okay. A hand tangled in your hair, pulling and pushing you, setting the pace. 

The stifled gag was enough for him to pull back, giving you a moment to catch your breath. 

His eyes fixed on you as your lips wrap around his cock, his chest dropping and raising with each breath.

He can’t help but notice the lipstick on the base of his cock, your head bobbing up and down. Jenson's hand pulls your hair away from your face, letting you set the pace.

His hand turns over and you feel his knuckles brush along your cheek. “Like being on your knees for me, hm? My good girl.” 

The praise hits you straight in the core, only making you go faster. Your cheeks hollow as you bob your head up and down. Jenson's hips buck, your nose brushing against him. 

His head falls back against the couch, breathing out a string of explicits as you hollow your cheeks. “C’mere.” He pulls you off him slowly, savouring the feeling of your tongue sliding up the underside of his cock.

You kiss him, the moan slipping from your lips as he manhandles you.

“Turn around,” he whispers against your lips, a hand on your hip as he turns you around to face the bed. 

Your arms are propped on the mattress, holding yourself up. He pushes your dress up, bunching over your hips. His hand slips between your thighs, fingers brushing over your panties and your head drops forward. 

Panties pushed to the side and Jenson reached forward, a hand tangled in your hair to pull you up, forcing you to look at the reflection in the window. His other hand holds your hip once he pushes into you. 

“See,” he mumbles to himself, glancing down between the two of you before his eyes meet yours in the reflection. “Look how pretty you are,” he whispers, kissing along the back of your shoulder as his hips dig into your ass. 

The knot in your stomach tightens when his hand on your hip slips down between your legs, reaching for your clit. He barely moves his fingers before your own hand reaches down to rest on his. The feeling of his fingers pulls your attention.

"Please daddy-" you're cut off by a moan and by Jenson pushing you down onto the bed.

You prop yourself up on your forearms once again, eyes fixed on anything but what he was doing. 

He could feel you clenching around him, pushing back into him for more.

“Shh, it’s okay baby, I know.” He tells you, thrusts getting sloppier by the second.

The two of you in sync, Jenson's chest pressed to your back as you came down from your orgasm. He peppered kisses all over your back, rubbing your side softly. He leans to press a kiss to your neck before pulling out slowly. 

You can feel Jenson wiping your thighs and between your legs, cleaning you up before fixing your dress. You're still facedown in the mattress, too fucked out to even think about moving at the moment. He senses as much, giving you a push by the ass and up onto the bed you went.

The clink of his belt comes from behind you, the man fixing his pants - you assumed he'd be joining you in bed but instead, you heard some sort of shuffling behind you.

Rolling you, you see that Jenson had resumed his packing from before.

"You know," you start, sitting up. "Most men your age are dead to the world after a fuck like that."

Jenson laughs, walking over to you. His hand cups your jaw, "I'm not like most guys my age."

--

taglist:  @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @forza55 @norrisleclercf1 @allalngthewtchtower @therealcap @burningcupcakefire @stargirl36 @brettlorenzi3 @guiseppetsunoda @magnummagnussen @flippingmyshit @savrose129 @lovelytsunoda @irda12-blog @dhhdhsiavdhaj @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @f1lovers22 @toomuchdelusion @eviethetheatrefreak @faye2029 @lillians-world-is-f1 @chalando1604 @lenaxwbr @im-obsessed @potashiuhm @lcxlerc16 @enjoythebutterflies3 @lillyfootballsworld @micksmidnights @mashtonbunny @chrlsleclerc @logischeroktopus

[iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin]

french press

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

wc: 1.2k reader: femme/gender neutral (gender warnings: reader is wearing lingerie, reader "pushes t*ts together" -- you've been warned) warnings: smut 18+; MINORS DNI!!! -- specific warnings under the cut -- also some angst and some funny stuff summary: jiwoong has a biiit of a jealousy problem. he's so jealous rn that he won't even touch you :( with his permission, you take matters into your own hands (and onto his thigh). *ੈ✩‧₊˚ oh helloooo. long time no see. decided to write something for the hell of it. maybe i'll write some more soon...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

~

warnings: 18+ explicit smut, thigh-riding, penetrative sex (reader receiving), descriptions of cum (reader's and jw's), unprotected sex, cumming inside, jealousy/toxicity, swearing, pet names (baby, angel)

also the title is VERY clever. french press: french masseusse pierre and... mating press. i'll leave now.

~

“baby,” you whine, pushing your arms together a bit to accentuate your tits. “don’t you wanna touch? you love touching my tits.”

the sheer, black lingerie set you were saving for a special occasion is hugging every curve of your body perfectly as you straddle your boyfriend. a garter belt squeezing around your right thigh, you know you’re irresistible to anyone with a pulse.

but apparently your boyfriend has passed away since he sat down on the couch with a huff twenty minutes ago. he’s still warm though and that’s permission enough for you to let him have it.

“oh my god,” you groan; smacking your hand on the leather armrest like a frustrated child. “woongie! want you to touch me so bad.”

“well, you should’ve thought of that before you let another man put his hands all over you,” jiwoong answers-- head turning to the side in the ultimate display of pettiness. 

you sigh exasperatedly. “it was a massage, woongie. a professional one that you paid for!”

“so?” he asks with a pout. “are you suggesting i’m a cuckold by my own doing?”

“you are the only one suggesting that actually,” you reply, running your hands down his clothed chest. “the only thing i’m suggesting is that you fuck me. and i’m strongly suggesting it.”

“oh yeah?” jiwoong responds, one eyebrow raised in interest. “are you sure those words aren’t actually meant for pierre: the unnecessarily handsome french masseuse?”

“you literally gave me a gift certificate for my birthday!” you exclaim, hitting his chest lightly in frustration. “baby, i tried to request an ugly massage therapist. the woman at the desk looked at me like i was being rude. and i was! for you.”

jiwoong’s eyes go straight to your barely-covered core and you think for a second he’s finally about to give in. “you asked for an ugly masseuse and she gave you a former louis vuitton runway model? i should’ve just given you tickets to magic mike live!”

“kim jiwoong-ah, if you don’t fck me right now, i swear to god,” you threaten emptily, sinking down on one of his grey sweatpant-adorned thighs. “i’m just gonna use you however i want.”

jiwoong folds his arms across his chest in a final act of defiance, attention returning to the tv screen. “knock yourself out.”

it takes everything in you not to whine like a little spoiled brat, but you manage to suppress it. instead, you grind a little harder down onto jiwoong’s thigh. his legs are lazily spread apart in the most enticing way. you could reach right down his pants and grab him in your hands (a tried and true method that jiwoong loves), but you have something to prove too.

so you repeat the grinding motion, your heat connecting again with the toned flesh of your boyfriend’s perfect thighs. at first it’s just for show-- you need his attention and you’ll do anything you have to to get it back.

but after a few moments, a soft moan escapes your throat. jiwoong’s breath audibly hitches; his body stiffening a bit at the sound of your pleasure. despite this, his eyes stay fixed on the screen.

as a familiar knot grows just below your stomach, you almost start to forget about your goal. maybe it’s desperation speaking, but riding your boyfriend’s thigh is actually a lot more stimulating than you thought it’d be. 

“fuck,” you whine, increasing your pace involuntarily. your hands are gripping the back of the couch, eyes closing as you rapidly approach your high.

suddenly, jiwoong’s thigh grows harder-- a sturdier surface for you to grind on. he’s flexing his muscles for you, helping you reach your climax like the perfect boyfriend he is.

“gonna cum all over my thigh, baby?” jiwoong asks, voice already noticeably fucked out. it’s not a mystery who won this game. “gonna make a mess all over my pants like a fucking angel?”

“i--... oh my god, i--...” you cry, strong hands finding your hips and guiding them down for you onto his thigh. you place your hand gently at the base of jiwoong’s neck, pulling at the collar of his shirt and toying with his collarbone. “i--... ‘m cumming...”

pleasure taking over, you reach your high as jiwoong continues to guide your hips for you. “woongie, love you. love you so much.”

your eyes flutter open to see jiwoong’s cheeks flushed, his eyes locked on your core. you look down to find that you have made a pretty little mess, honey dripping from you and soaking his grey sweatpants. he lifts you ever so slightly up and back down, watching as your juices seep through your sheer panties and onto him.

jiwoong meets your gaze for less than a second before you’re wrestled off the couch and onto your back on the carpeted floor below. carpet aside, it’s not a painless fall and as your boyfriend is hungrily ripping his pants off and burying his cock inside you, you decide it’s a good time to start playing again.

“oh my god, woongie,” you complain, knowing that your back’s gonna hurt even worse in the morning. “are you trying to make me need another massage?”

“no. more. massages,” jiwoong growls, punctuating each word with a deep thrust. “unless i’m the one giving them.”

“fuck,” you whine, pulling him even deeper inside you as you wrap your legs around him. trapping him. holding him hostage exactly where his possessive ass wants to be. “surely you don’t think you’re as skilled as a professional masseuse?”

“i’ll get certified,” he manages to grunt, grabbing hold of your thighs and pushing them up to your chest in a mating press. “or would you prefer pierre’s cock inside you instead?”

“that’s not fair,” you reply, absolutely relishing in your reinstated role of bratty sub. “how can i choose if i’ve never seen both options?”

“you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” jiwoong asks, kneading your thighs mercilessly-- striking his palm across the side with a gorgeous smack. “you’re gonna kill me so you can fuck pierre and then kill him too.”

“i’ll let you live a little longer if you cum inside me,” you promise, running your hand through his hair as he stares at you helplessly. “please, woongie. need you to fill me up.”

you can see it in his eyes: he’ll give you anything you want. he’d even let you fuck pierre if you really wanted to. but you don’t. not even a little bit. you just want jiwoong.

“fuck, i love you so much, baby,” he pants as his thrusts grow shallower and more sporadic. “gonna fill up this perfect... little...”

his hips finally spasm; a sweet moan swallowed down as you feel him spill into you. you sigh contentedly at the warmth inside of you, your boyfriend laying his head on your chest-- letting go of your legs from where he’d been pinning them and collapsing on top of you in exhaustion.

you wrap your thighs around jiwoong’s waist, making sure he can’t escape (he doesn’t want to).

jiwoong’s jealousy issues weren’t really harmful. he knew you’d never actually leave him for another man; what he always seemed to forget is that you’d never even dream of it. and besides, whatever misunderstanding arose always ended in fiery, passionate sex like this. 

so could anyone really blame you for making up sexy french massage therapists just to make your boyfriend jealous from time to time? not to worry... you’ll give jiwoong a couple months to recover from pierre before you drop your next fabrication on him: dante, the sensual italian chef.

[soaplickerrr]

╰┈➤ How I feel like SKZ would reveal your relationship!!

Felix

Bangchan, Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin, I.N

Go show some love to “Stray Love”, It's an Idol!Hyunjin x FemReader fic, first part is out!

Warnings~ FemReader | Established relationship | Idol Au | kinda ooc | I can't write very accurate personalities so pls forgive me for that 😔

Ps: These will be accidental moments when a fan notices something and the member can't help but just reveal it.

Summary: Felix gets a call from you during a live.

Felix was having a great time on a live stream with Chan, answering fan questions and chatting with Stay. They were having a lighthearted conversation when Felix's phone started ringing. The sound caught both of them off guard, and Bang Chan raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

Felix immediately recognized the caller ID as yours, and he panicked. He didn't want to let your relationship slip on a live stream, so as he picked up the phone, he frantically started repeating, "I'm on a live, I'm on live, I'm on live," hoping you would understand the message and hang up.

As Felix continued repeating the words, Chan couldn't help but chuckle at his panic. "Who called, man? And why is your phone not on DND" Chan asked, still amused by the situation. But Felix simply gestured to his phone, still facing away from the camera, signaling that he couldn't reveal it on the live stream.

Fans in the chat quickly noticed the interaction and started speculating about who had called. Theories about secret girlfriends and other scenarios flew through the comment section. Some even joked that it could be a ghost calling him. Chan couldn't resist joining in the fun and playfully teased Felix.

"Sounds like someone very important, huh?" Chan teased, a smirk on his face. Felix rolled his eyes but couldn't help but laugh at the situation. He quickly composed himself and got back to answering fan questions, trying to distract himself and the fans from the phone call.

Shortly after, Felix felt his phone vibrate with a notification. He discreetly checked it and saw that you had understood his signal and hung up. He quickly texted you a message, letting you know that he was on a live stream and would call you back later. He breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that their secret hadn't been discovered.

The rest of the live stream continued without any further interruptions. Chan and Felix continued to chat and interact with Stay, unaware of the whirlwind of theories and speculations they had caused with the brief phone call. However, the incident lingered in the backs of their minds, a reminder of the secret they had to keep.

A few days later, JYP Entertainment briefly broke the news that Felix had been in a relationship for the past year. Fans reacted with shock and excitement, many expressing happiness for the couple.

A couple weeks later, Felix uploaded a picture on his Instagram Story of him dressed up in a stylish LV suit, you sporting an expensive, captivating, LV gown beside him, attending a Louis Vuitton event together. The picture confirmed the rumors and speculation that had circulated after the live incident.

Fans were both surprised and elated to see the revelation. They praised the couple's secretiveness and wished them happiness.

Stray Kids' members were supportive of Felix and you guys’ relationship. When Lee Know was asked in a live stream about the situation, he chuckled and responded, "Oh, I already knew. I was the one who found out, anyway."

Stray Kids fans reacted with amusement to this revelation. They knew how close the members were and how they often shared each other's secrets. The fact that Lee Know had been the first to find out about the relationship only added to the bonding and connection among the members.

Fans praised Stray Kids for their supportive friendship and the strong bond they shared. Many commented on how Lee Know's statement showed the close-knit relationship within the group, where they supported each other through thick and thin.

The incident further strengthened the fans' adoration for Stray Kids. They admired the members not just for their talent and music, but also for their genuine care and support for each other. Stray Kids' authenticity and loyalty to each other resonated with the fans, making them even more endearing in their eyes.

WRITERS BLOCK IS TRYING TO GET ME, AND ITS FAILING 🥳

[freak-accident419]

You Can’t Spell ‘FWB’ without ‘Friend’

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Summary: Ever since the night before, you and Derek had become best friends with benefits. Bored at a fancy rich person party, you two decide to hook up again. However, when you’re inexplicably taken out of the mood, you two decide to do something else for the night: hang out like the best friends you were.

Word Count: 2.9k

Content: 18+ content, MDNI, (graphic descriptions of) sex (awkward), cursing, mentions of drugs, (best) friends with benefits, platonic (but you can interpret it as potentially romantic), short read, reader and Derek are just best pals that fuck, slightly ooc Derek, reader is rich/famous like Derek, attempt to hook up in the bathroom at a party (end up hanging out instead), smoking, drinking, Star Wars references, very chaotic

(A/n: Dedicating this to my wifey @xcherryerim 🫶 your post awaiting this fic meant a lot to me :3)

-

Holy fuck, you wanted to gouge your eyes out.

You had a glass of wine in your hand, staring at the crowd of old, wealthy hags, sipping the drink briefly out of boredom.

You were at yet another fancy party in some rich person’s mansion, accompanied by your best friend Derek, the son of President Jessica Danforth and CEO of Danforth Enterprises. You had been good friends with him for a very long time, the two of you always stirring up trouble whenever together.

You stare down at the deep scarlet of your drink, intensely zoning out as you thought about the night before. A pair of hands caressing the skin on your thighs, legs tightening around hips, wrists held above your head, and loud, sultry moans and sounds filling the room.

And then you snapped out of it as you felt a tap on your shoulder. You looked up to see exactly him—Derek.

“This party is ass,” you grumble to him, taking a sip from your drink.

“I know,” he replies, sipping his. “Any luck with finding investors?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I have people doing that for me,” you scoff.

“Right,” he nods.

“Any luck with convincing some poor girl to invest in crypto?” You ask, looking at him as you raise an eyebrow.

“Nope,” he answers with a sigh, but a smile was plastered on his face.

You chuckled at his reply. “Hah. I’m not surprised. Crypto is fucking ridiculous.”

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Hm, you already did. What, once isn’t enough for you?” you retort quickly, sneering.

Derek’s eyes widened in response, frantically looking around to see if anyone heard you, then whispered, “Would—Would you be quiet?” He stressed under his breath. “Don’t say that fucking shit out loud, what if somebody heard?”

Last night didn’t really mean to happen. Like the close friends you were, you hung out with Derek at his mansion as you regularly do. However, one thing led to another because of a bottle of pinot noir and the unfortunate appearance of a sex scene in a movie you two watched together. Accordingly, you woke up sore the next morning. You two had established that it was just hooking up, no strings attached—but nobody could know about your arrangement. Not your friends, not your co-workers, and especially not Derek’s mother. While he was known for being promiscuous, the press couldn’t find out that Derek had hooked up with you, not only a good friend of Derek, but someone who was well known in the media due to their wealth.

You roll your eyes carelessly as flashes from last night began to cloud your mind. His fast breaths, his body, his skilled hands. Yet you shook it off easily. “Oh, come on, Derek, these old, ancient fucks can’t hear shit.” An old woman looked at you in disapproval after hearing you swear, walking away from you. “Okay, well, she heard that, but nobody’s gonna know! Don’t get your fuckin’ Louis Vuitton boxers in a twist.”

“They’re not—” he huffs in annoyance. You weren’t taking this seriously, which ultimately frustrated him; your carelessness reminded him too much of himself. “Y/n, who knows what’ll happen if anyone finds out? Like, you know I have to keep my fucking reputation up, and you do too. I don’t think there’s anything Wallace could do if the press found out we hooked up.”

You pause briefly until a smirk creeps up onto your lips in realization. “You regret it, don’t you?”

“No, of course I don’t regret it,” he answers immediately. Not regretting it was clearly an understatement. He really enjoyed last night, every second, every feeling. So he was slightly confused as to why you even doubted him. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just—” you stutter out, “I woke up and you were gone, you know.” You mutter as you took out a cigarette, placing it into your mouth and lighting it.

His mouth went dry and he pursed his lips promptly. “I had to be at Danforth Enterprises,” he says, watching you exhale the smoke from your cigarette.

“Yeah, well, you could’ve sent me a text or written a note,” you shrug. “Like, it’s your house, dude. I was supposed to be the one leaving the morning after, not you.”

“Right, sorry,” he says simply. “Force of habit.” —It was true; he had an infamous history of one-night stands.

“Plus, I’m your best friend,” you reason. “I don’t want this to, like, ruin everything we had. Like, you’re still my buddy to me.”

He looked at you with a slightly amused grin. “Hey, nothing’s gonna change between us, alright? As you said, you’re my best friend, and it’s always gonna stay that way.” You chuckled, offering him a smile as you heard his response. He could be sentimental whenever he wanted. “Look, the day our friendship will ever change is the day I’ll shut down UDG and Nine Star. Which is basically, like, fucking never. Don’t worry about it.” Even as he said the last sentence, this could be interpreted in two different ways. The first one is that he’d never be in some sort of greater relationship with you, likewise his reluctance to stop scamming. The second one, however, implies that if he ever got into something serious with you, a moral obligation will arise, forcing him to shut down his unethical phishing companies just for you. Right. That sounded ridiculous. It was definitely not the latter.

The two of you both took a sip of your drink in unison.

“But, like,” he began, swirling his glass of wine in his hand engagingly, “Is this gonna be, like, a regular thing?”

You raise an eyebrow curiously after taking a sip of your own. “Like, hooking up?” He nods. “I mean… Whatever happens, happens.”

“Uhh, how do you mean?”

“Like, if it was a one-time thing, so be it. But if it’s gonna become regular, then also so be it,” you took a drag of your cigarette. “Doesn’t really matter. We can just, like, do whatever we want. Nothing has to be all predetermined. If we feel like fucking, then we’ll fuck. If not, then great, another day of walking normally.”

“Right,” he says.

You were bored.

So fucking bored.

You dressed all fancy for nothing, you feel. You were obligated to go the same reason Derek had: your wealthy, famous status. But it was so underwhelming and useless, even. As long as you made an appearance, then that should’ve been enough for everybody.

You put out your cigarette and finish your wine, nearly chugging it.

“Hey,” you tap on Derek’s shoulder, making him turn around to look at you after he had been gazing at a potential crypto girl. “Wanna do a quickie in this rich loser’s bathroom?”

He raises an eyebrow in interest.

***

You were held up against the wall of the bathroom, legs wrapped around Derek’s hips as his hands held you by your thighs, pounding his cock in and out of you at a fairly quick pace. Your hands held onto his arms and your chin rested on his shoulder tiredly as the occasional skin slapping against skin sound echoed in the room, hearing Derek grunt with almost every thrust.

You felt slightly uncomfortable and awkward. Like, you weren’t really aroused. It felt… dry? You didn’t know what you meant by that, but the friction was just… unsatisfying. He was grazing your walls in a way that just made it feel like burning, increasing your discomfort. But at least he looked like he was enjoying this. Good for him, you guessed.

This never happened before, so it was sort of… really weird to you, to say the least.

To be honest, you were kind of bored. Like, really bored. How the hell were you still bored? You temporarily escaped an old rich people party to have rigorous sex in their bathroom with your best friend, but you were still bored.

“Shit…” you mutter, disgruntled, as he moved consistently inside you, the burning sensation catching up with you. “What the fuck? Why does—ow—Why the fuck is this hurting?”

Derek pulls his head away from your shoulder and looks at you in concern, his dick still inside of you. “Are you okay? Should I go slower?” He offers, raising an eyebrow as he searched for hesitance in your eyes, then looking you up and down.

“Yeah, sure, okay,” you nodded. “It’s whatever, just—just keep going,” you dismiss in a low murmur. As he starts again at a slower pace, you still had an uncomfortable expression on your face. He was moving his hips but all you felt was mere irritation.

“Okay, what—what the hell?” You groan as you still felt shitty, resulting in Derek stopping his thrusts.

“What’s the issue? Am I still going fast? Should I slow down more?”

“Yeah, uh, probably, yeah,” you say as your head goes back on his shoulder. He proceeds with his movements, his cock sliding in at an even slower pace, stretching your walls more intricately.

“Is this—is this better?” He asks as he moves patiently, steadily moving in and out of your body.

And it wasn’t even a minute in before you would interrupt again.

“Umm… Actually I,” you begin, sighing, “I’m just—I don’t know, I’m not feeling it.”

Derek slides out, still holding you up against the wall by your thighs and raises an eyebrow, looking into your eyes. “Seriously?”

You nod simply.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” He asks, unsure if it was something on his part.

“I don’t know, I’m just not really feeling it,” you reply awkwardly.

“Weren’t you the one who brought it up—”

“I’m not feeling it anymore, dude, I’m sorry!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in surrender.

He puts you down as you put your clothing back on. As you slip your underwear back on, you look at him standing by the same spot by the wall. “Are you still hard?” You ask, raising an eyebrow insightfully.

“Yup,” he shrugs shamelessly.

You sort of felt bad, since you were the one who had the idea of fucking in the bathroom in the first place, making him all riled up.

You sigh softly and you two look at each other in silence. You let out a quiet huff.

“Want me to jerk you off?”

Soon after his release, he put his boxers and pants on leisurely. You were in front of the mirror, trying to fix your hair and clothing, ensuring that you didn’t just come back from a sexual experience in the bathroom.

“Dude, look at how much expensive perfume these jagoffs own,” you chuckle amusedly, looking down at the bathroom sink counter. On the surface were several perfumes of Armani, Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana, as well as a few lotions.

“Hey, don’t—don’t touch those, Y/n.” Too late. You sprayed him with one.

You two grimaced at the scent.

“Well shit, I didn’t even know what I expected,” you cough severely, waving your hand around your nose as you despised the shitty perfume’s smell.

“I told you not to touch them, idiot,” he huffs, buckling his belt as he scowled at the odor.

“Don’t be a dickwad, you totally would’ve been curious enough to try them too,” you scoff, looking through the cabinets of the bathroom mirror and sinks. “Hey, look,” you smirk, throwing a small object at him that you had found.

He caught it involuntarily with his hands and inspected the item: it was a bottle of Viagra. He raised an eyebrow, looking at you and laughed softly. “I am not surprised that these old fucks can’t get it on,” he threw it back at you and you shelved it back in its original place.

You watch him take a hit from his vape and you sigh from boredom. You didn’t want to be in this bathroom any longer, but you definitely didn’t want to be out in the party either.

“Dude, I’m bored,” you whine as he handed you his vape pen.

“‘Sup Bored, I am Derek,” he muttered sarcastically, under his breath. You rolled your eyes and handed him back his vape once you were done with it.

“Can you—can you not?” you mumble exasperatedly in response as he just raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says, making his way towards the door, “We’re getting out of here, you can ride with me.”

“Hold on,” you interject quickly. “We should—I mean—I should probably wait a few minutes after you leave the bathroom to get out. You know, so no one will suspect us if we were to, like, walk out of the bathroom together.”

“Right. Yeah. Yeah, you have a point,” he nods.

You had to be careful from now on, realizing that just through the mere plan of leaving the bathroom alternately. This meant you had to be more delicate and thoughtful with every action and word that came from you—and Derek’s—to keep this messy secret.

***

You were laid on the bed beside Derek, one hand tangled in his hair and the other holding an ice cream cone as the bright colors of the TV in front of you nearly blinded your eyes. Your arm was propped up behind Derek’s head in order to play with his hair, feeling the soft curls brushing your palm and fingertips. The two of you looked intensely at the screen as you ate your ice cream in one hand, which was graciously prepared by Derek’s personal chef.

“Dude, Jar Jar Binks was definitely a Sith Lord,” you blurt in a low mutter. Derek turns his head and looks at you in befuddlement.

“What? No. Y/n, no, no, no, do not get started on this again—”

“I’m just saying, dude, that whole ‘goofy idiot’ appearance was hiding the fact that he was a powerful Sith Lord!” You exclaim passionately. “Have you seen his fighting style?”

“Yes, I’ve seen his fighting style, and it looks as if he’s chugged twenty fuckin’ martinis, then atrociously became crossfaded through several, reckless bong rips,” he replied straightforwardly.

You pause briefly as you realized. “Derek, I swear, if that was a reference to that one hangover I had back in December, I swear fucking to god—”

He met you with silence.

You nearly whisper, “Was it?”

The smirk that rose onto his lips told you everything, and you playfully smacked the top of his head since your hand was already there before, tangled in his hair. “Ow,” he muttered, yet his smirk never ceasing. “Look, all I’m saying is that I respect you for that. You are, like, the craziest person I know in the best fucking way possible.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess,” you mumble, fighting the inevitable curl of your lips that formed a flattered, soft grin. “Okay, anyways, all I’m saying, is that not only was it a tactic to trick his opponents, but he could’ve also been using the force! And how many times has he avoided death?”

“Okay, Y/n, that’s enough, lay off the grass,” he jokes, letting out a low snicker. “How is Jar Jar even relevant? We—we aren’t even watching the prequels, isn’t this The Empire Strikes Back?”

“No, I’m pretty sure we’re watching Return of the Jedi,” you say confidently.

“No, this is—this is definitely Empire Strikes Back,” he refutes, then pauses. “Did we seriously forget?”

“Well, there’s a billion of movies in this franchise, so we’re bound to mix up its titles. Hm, well, it can’t be The Empire Strikes Back, because Return of the Jedi is the one with that sexy Leia outfit,” you reason, shrugging. Derek raises an eyebrow. “Okay, okay, you know what, this isn’t even the point, the point is, that Jar Jar is relevant because it’s fuckin’ Star Wars!”

“Whatever,” Derek rolls his eyes with an amused grin that swiftly transitioned into a mischievous smirk. “You look like Jar Jar,” he mumbles.

You let out a playful, offended gasp. “Oh yeah? You look like Jabba the Hut.”

His head turned directly towards you and let out a exaggerated gasp as well. “Fuck you, you look like Yoda!”

“And you look like that fucking gremlin-looking piece of shit that’s Jabba’s pet!”

“Yeah, well, you look like—”

This continued a little longer until the both of you got too tired, unable to think of any more ugly Star Wars characters to compare each other to—which then resulted in a peaceful truce.

Your fingers proceeded to play with Derek’s curls as you took a bite of your ice cream, then letting your head rest on his shoulder. With this action, however, you suddenly thought about the night before and how things had led up to that event.

“Hey, are there any sex scenes in this?” You ask quietly, feeling his short strands of hair tangle loosely around your fingers.

He scoffs with a slight grin. “It’s a fucking Star Wars movie.”

You two burst out laughing. “Right, right, that’s—you have a point,” you giggle, catching your breath. “Oh, thank god, then.”

“Why? Are you that against having a repeat of last night?” He accuses, attempting to sound more playful, rather than the genuine concern that he felt.

“No, it’s just—” You struggled to think about how you wanted to word it. “I really like this. You know? I’m too tired, I’m very comfy, I…” You nuzzled further into his neck as your head rested on his shoulder. “This is nice. I like this.”

He smiles warmly to himself. “I like this too.”

The rest of the night was quite tame. You finished your ice cream before you finished the movie. Except, you didn’t really finish the movie entirely, because you two fell asleep in each other’s arms in the middle of it. Yet seen through your easy laughter and smiles, you were reassured indubitably: nothing was ever going to change between the two of you.

[merchelsea]

hotel room - charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc + fem!reader

summary: charles decided to rent a room in a hotel that was not associated with f1 to take girls into without causing any drama, but it turns out that asking for extreme discretion on a cheap hotel is not a great idea.

author's note: this is obviously going to have a part two, i'm not a monster to leave you hanging like this

word count: 5,3k

part two

"hello?" you blurted out after a long minute of awkward silence in your hotel room. two men lay on your bed.

at first, you thought they were employees, but it took you exactly ten seconds to realize they weren't. first, because they stood there, just looking at you; second, because people who work in hotels don't typically carry louis vuitton suitcases.

"we didn't ask for room service." one of them told you. he had water-blue eyes, brown hair, a short beard, and a strong french accent.

"this is my room." you replied shortly. they exchanged puzzled glances while you stood there waiting.

"well, surely you got the number wrong. this one is mine." the other man said, showing you his key. the first man was handsome, but the second was exceptionally good-looking.

his green eyes, perfectly brushed brown hair, and the little facial hair he had fit together with the rest of his features, making him one of the most beautiful man you had ever seen. his accent was just as strong. were french men always this good-looking?

the logo on his red t-shirt, which you recognized all too well due to your tifosi brother's passion, left little doubt that he was likely in melbourne for the race.

"i did not" you insisted, showing him your own key. he furrowed his eyebrows and got up from your bed.

"they probably just gave you the wrong key." he had came closer and you handed him your key for him to see.

"no they didn't, i have this confirmed for the past two weeks. room 81 is mine." you had the right room, but so did he. and the worst part is that you both had your ways to prove it.

he looked back at his friend, and the three of you silently thought about what to do.

"call them, they must have an explanation for all of this." the blue-eyed man suggested. "i told you this wasn't a good idea." he mumbled to his friend, and french-number-two proceeded to follow french-number-one's advice.

they picked up immediately, and the ferrari fan asked someone to come. the silence lingered until a blonde woman, dressed in her work attire, entered the room.

"hello, sir. how can i help you?" she glanced you up and down dismissively. you thought, 'Bitch', but refrained from saying it out loud. you looked at the men to see if they had noticed, and french-number-one apparently had.

"we seem to have a complication here," he began. you moved closer, realizing that you were part of the problem too. "it looks like we both got the same room." he pointed at you.

the woman tilted her head to the side. "that's not possible." she said. a smile planted on her lips.

"well, obviously it is." you retorted, delicately handing her your phone for her to see the reservation. "just have one of us moved, please." you needed rest after a twenty-one-hour flight, and dealing with this was not what you had in mind.

"well, miss, that is not my job, but i'm pretty sure my colleagues can’t help you with that either." you and french-number-two stood silent as she explained that the hotel had run out of rooms due to the race happening in melbourne on sunday.

"what do people find so entertaining about this car thing, after all?" you mused aloud as you sat on the bed.

"oh, i don't know," the blue eyed laughed, while the green eyed looked at you, seemingly offended. you closed your eyes for a couple of seconds, trying to collect your thoughts. "well, can you tell your colleagues who deal with this to sort this out? you're not planning on making them share a room, are you?"

"no, sir. i’m sorry. you two can come with me, and i'll take you to talk to someone," she implored, begging them forgiveness with her eyes, though she never glanced your way.

whether she was desperate to get laid or they were important clients to the hotel, you couldn't help but feel enraged. you resisted the urge to scream, "i'm here too," and instead remained silent as you followed her to a more private area of the hotel.

the woman took you to a room that looked like an office, where a brunette sat behind a desk, wearing a superior expression. same expression that faded as soon as she looked the frenchman’s direction.

the blonde left the three of you alone, and the ferrari fan explained the situation to the woman behind the desk. she instructed you to sit, so she could make a call to figure out what happened. so you did, and in silence you heard her fingers press the numbers she intended.

your mind was elsewhere when the man next to you whispered, "what's your name?" his accent so strong that you were sure english wasn't his first language.

"y/n. what’s yours?" you whispered back.

"charles," he replied, his name matching the idea you had of him.

"now i can finally stop calling you french-number-two in my mind." you remarked. he furrowed his brows, and you cursed him for looking so good like this.

"wait, why is pierre french-number-one?" pierre was also a french name, you realized, amused by your accentology.

"he was the first one to talk, and everything about him just screams french." you explained.

"fair point, but I'm actually not french," Charles confessed. you looked at him with curiosity. “i’m monegasque.”

"that makes sense," you replied with a nod, and couldn't help but notice how well the name suited him.

"i’m sorry, i figured out what happened," the woman interrupted, her tone now more professional. "firstly, I would like to apologize to both of you for all of this mess. miss, you reserved and paid for the room two weeks ago, while..." she gestured toward charles. "you called us later. it turns out the person you spoke to that day is a fan of yours and gave you our best room without checking. we are very, very sorry, for this misfortune and we'll do everything we can to provide you with some comfort."

charles and you exchanged glances. you were curious with what she said about a fan, but you decided not to ask. on the other hand, he was preoccupied with how unprofessional this situation was turning out to be.

"well, 'comfortable' would be if we could have separate rooms," the, now known as monegasque, complained.

"that, i cannot offer, but we can transfer one of you to our affiliate hotel, which is an hour and a half from here and offers excellent service quality." anything that didn’t mess things up like this would be great.

both charles and you shook your heads in unison, declining the offer.

"it's too far from where i have to be." you informed her, hoping that charles had plans close to this hotel she talked about.

"exactly, it's too far for me too." he confirmed, and luck seemed to be as far from you as possible, even when you needed the most.

"i'm very sorry, but it appears you'll have to share the room." the woman concluded.

you took a deep breath and left the room before you could say something offensive. charles followed you.

"we can make this work," he said.

"we better." you replied with a sigh.

"i need some sleep too," you groaned when charles asked you to vacate the room until 2 a.m.

"it's friday! why are you planning on sleeping at 6 p.m. on a friday?"

"because i just endured an incredibly long and exhausting flight. i'm desperate for some rest." you explained as you collapsed onto the bed, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"why don't we let you do that now, and then pierre here can pick you up later so I can have the room for a couple of hours? you can sleep as much as you'd like when you return, i promise." charles suggested, making a last offer.

he had given up hope right after revealing his plans to you, mainly due to the disapproving look you gave him. it's not an everyday thing that you're asked to leave your room just because your unexpected roommate wanted to have a girl over.

"i want fresh sheets when i get back." you demanded as you headed to the bathroom to change into more comfortable sleepwear. the monegasque nearly jumped for joy when you agreed to this insanity.

"thank you, thank you, thank you." he repeated numerous times to express his gratitude. you could still hear his excited exclamations inside the private compartment. suddenly, you remembered that you had no idea where you were going.

"pierre can pick me up to go where, exactly?" you raised your voice so they could hear you clearly.

they remained silent for a moment, and you understood that they hadn't thought this through. after all, this was a bad thing for the both of you.

"i know of a few clubs i can take you to, i guess," pierre yelled back, his uncertainty evident in his tone.

"what do you wear to a club in melbourne?"

"something nice, i don't know, i'm not a woman. just wear whatever you wear to a club." you chuckled to yourself and returned to the bedroom.

"okay," you said, facing them again and ready to get some rest. "now, you two french things, get out. i'm going to catch up on some jet lag."

"i'm not french." charles mumbled as he exited the room, followed closely by pierre.

the actual frenchman retorted, "i don't think she cares at the moment."

with that, you found yourself alone, left only with your exhaustion and the comforting embrace of your bed.

you stirred awake, the relentless pounding in your head a cruel reminder of the little sleep you had. slowly, you opened your eyes, and the now familiar blue gaze of pierre greeted you.

"hey," he began with an apologetic tone, "charles insisted i wake you up. i'm sorry."

sleepily, you tried to check the time, scanning the unfamiliar room for a clock, anything to anchor you to melbourne's time zone.

"it's around ten, i think." pierre informed you once he realized what you were trying to do. he settled on the edge of the bed when you decided to sit up. "you need to go get ready, i'll take you to eat something."

"what are you? my body guard?" you smiled to him, still dizzy. the four hours you slept doing nothing but giving you a headache. "i can get my own food pierre."

he quickly shook his head. "charles would murder me." he confesses, his words leaving you puzzled. your groggy expression must have been quite evident. "i think the remorse is kicking in. he even tried to bribe me to stick by your side."

"how thoughtful of him," irony slips through your smile as you speak. "he does realize i would have preferred if he'd just let me sleep instead?"

"his brain has its limits." he lets out a chuckle and you sight, needing much more of that sleep you just woke up from.

dragging yourself out of bed, you clutched your suitcase and shuffled into the bathroom, determined to transform into a club worthy version of yourself.

with time in short supply, you limited your skincare routine to a quick facial cleanse and your trusty hydrating lotion. makeup took you, surprisingly, just a few minutes; you decided to go for a no-makeup, makeup look. the real problem lay in choosing the right outfit.

in your haste, it seemed you had packed either too much or too little to this club. with your birthday at the door, you had plans to party, socialize, and maybe even get a little wild. yet, the occasion left you stuck between a simple cropped top and jeans or your favorite dress, which felt a bit too extravagant.

of course you had tons of clubbing clothes with you, but you couldn't wear those. you soon enough realized they weren't regular people who worked in offices, and now that you knew charles even had fans it was all a lot more complicated. so where do people, who seem to be famous, take the girl that's stuck sharing a room with their friend?

that's when your white skirt caught your eye. it hugged you figure perfectly as if made specifically for you to use it. a quick search revealed the white, long sleeved top you'd thrown into the bag last minute. together, they formed the ideal clothing for the night ahead.

this may not have been part of your initial plans, but you were determined to make the most of it and fulfill your primary goal for this trip — meeting new people.

you step out of the bathroom, fully prepared to head out to wherever pierre decides to take you. he lounges on the bed, engrossed in his phone until you approach and gently pat his knee.

"get up." you instruct him, and his gaze sweeps up and down your body. it's only then that you take notice of his outfit – light blue jeans paired with a simple white shirt. it's casual yet an excellent choice.

you briefly wonder if you might be overdoing, but the thoughts quickly dissipate. "you certainly know how to dress for a night out in melbourne." he says, referencing your previous conversation.

"i wasted a considerable amount of time picking out these clothes," you admit and motion for him to rise so you can tidy the bed.

in a matter of minutes, your suitcase has been stowed away, and your phone now rests securely in your purse.

"what are you in the mood for dinner?" he inquires as you leave the room behind, ensuring everything is clean and ready for charles' girl later.

"anything," you reply, your hand instinctively moving to your stomach. "literally anything, i'm starving." you add, emphasizing your hunger.

"alright then, we’re going for italian" he decides, and you nod in agreement, already imagining the delectable Italian dishes that await, making your stomach growl even louder.

after returning to the room, well past 3 a.m., you tiptoed in to find charles cocooned in the sheets, presumably asleep. you quietly went to your suitcase, took your pajamas, and moved to the bathroom. after changing, you removed all you makeup, getting your face clean before heading out to bed. you hadn't put on that much, but you didn't like to sleep with it.

with hushed movements, you fetched your charger and silenced your phone, choosing to ignore your friend's texts.

the night had exceeded your expectations. initially hesitant when they suggested going out with pierre, who by then was a complete stranger, you eventually embraced the idea of this little escape.

pierre took you to a charming restaurant that couldn't be more your vibe. the ambiance, delicious food, and nice people made it a really great experience. you mentally thanked whatever god made you go out with this french stranger.

after getting to know each other a bit, you both headed to a club where you met a lot of new people, including some of pierre's friends. you couldn't have been happier about skipping that sleep.

as you slipped under the blankets, a voice startled you, "it's past three."

whispering, you responded to charles, "i thought you were asleep."

"i'm not, but it's past three," he repeated, his voice heavy with sleepiness.

"yeah, i know." you said, already nestled comfortably in bed.

"i told pierre to bring you back at two so you could rest; i've been waiting."

"oh, i met some of his friends and stayed a bit longer." you explained, turning your back to him. "are these sheets fresh?"

he chuckled softly, "yes. which friends did you meet?"

"a lot of people which i can't remember the names now. his girlfriend kika, a goddess. and some guy named lindo, landon, i think that's his name." you replied, still unsure of the pronunciation.

charles laughed at your attempt, "his name is lando. no 'i' or 'n'"

"not too far off," you quipped.

"if you say so..."

"oh, I have a question for you," you turned to face him, even if the room was in absolute darkness and you couldn't see a thing. "what do you guys work with? there were bodyguards and security procedures all night. i couldn't understand a damn thing."

an "oh" lingers in the air for a while. this was a topic the monegasque wanted to avoid as much as possible. he knew that you would figure it out, eventually, he just wanted to stick with "charles, the normal (french) dude" for a little longer.

"we're formula one drivers," he confesses. you burst into laughter. "i'm serious. i drive for ferrari, and pierre drives for alpine."

"shut up! you know lewis hamilton in person?" you didn't know much about motorsports, but c'mon, everyone knows lewis. "i do, actually." he's puzzled about why that was your first question.

"i recognized the logo on your shirt earlier. my brother's a fan, but i thought you were here just to watch the race."

"in a way, i am, just from a different perspective," he jokes. "how's your brother going to react when you tell him you're sharing a room with charles leclerc?"

"go back to sleep, charles leclerc." you tease, struggling to pronounce his name correctly.

"don't ever try that again." he laughs, turning his back to you.

"oh shut up." you playfully retorted.

you found yourself leaping onto your bed without bothering to check if charles was already there as night fell. meeting new people was exciting, but reuniting with old friends held a special charm. reconnecting with people ranked in the top three of your favorite things to do, even though it could be quite exhausting.

to be totally fair, you were tired because of the entire week you had just gone through. completing 26 out of 43 items on your bucket list was not easy, but you managed it all within a week and a day.

sharing the room with charles turned out to be much more enjoyable than expected. he was not only a genuinely nice guy but also a source of constant entertainment. when you went to bed, boredom was never an option as charles would introduce you to new games you'd never heard of and make you learn them to play with him.

it was really easy to get along with him, and you understood that as time passed and you were getting closer. sharing a room became something you no longer detested.

suppressing the urge to surrender to sleep, you got up to change and the next moments blurred together. all you could recall was your roommate entering a little while after you.

that’s until, in the middle of the night, your phone erupted with numerous notifications.

“geez, are you famous or something?” charles mumbled, awakened by the noise.

“it’s on your side, please turn it down." you groaned, covering your ears with a pillow. he reached for your phone but accidentally read one of the 47 notifications.

"happy birthday? is it your birthday?" he asked.

you buried your face in the pillow as more notifications poured in. "just turn that down," you demanded. "I love my friends, but this is too much." you knew they were doing it on purpose because of the lack of communication. this was their way of reminding you that you couldn’t be rid of them for so much time.

“it’s your birthday?” he inquired, sitting up.

“yeah, officially 22 now!” you replied, cursing the friends responsible for your rude awakening. exhausted, you had forgotten that your 6-hour nap was meant to be a quick one.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” charles exclaimed, throwing himself into an enthusiastic yet somewhat ungraceful hug. you laughed and thanked him. "why didn't you mention it earlier?"

“it didn’t come up.” you said, returning the hug.

"and do you have any plans for today?" he asked, returning to his original position.

"not really. i thought i might visit some places here in melbourne," you answered, rubbing your eyes.

"do you want to come watch the race then? consider it my birthday gift. if you'd mentioned it earlier, i would've prepared something better." the driver offered.

"i suppose the tickets must be sold out. have you seen how many people are here these past few days? there are no rooms since last week." you informed him.

"and you think I'd let you watch from the stands? no way. you'll… i mean, you would be in the Ferrari garage." he said with conviction.

"that sounds boring." you complain.

"is that a yes?" he asked, seeing a glimmer of a smile in your eyes. "i'll do my best to win, just for you."

“isn’t that your job?” you teased.

"yes, but doing it for you adds a little extra pressure," he admitted. you nodded in agreement, and he reclined again. "now, go to sleep. tomorrow is your big day."

"big day," you mimicked in a comical male voice, turning on your side. "thank you, charles."

"yeah, no problem." he replied. you couldn’t see him now, but you knew he was wearing a smile, and it made you smile too.

"wake up." you heard, your senses slowly returning. as you opened your eyes, you found kika, pierre's girlfriend, looking down at you.

what is it with people waking you up? it's always someone new.

"hey. it's time to get ready." even though your head was a big question mark, you did as she asked and sat up. she sat right before you.

"did charles sent you?" you inquired.

"no, he just told me you'd be coming to the race and since we've met that other night, i thought i would come to make you some company." she replied with a warm smile. "happy birthday, girl." she opened her arms for you and you embraced her immediately.

"thank you." you murmured into the hug. "do you want to get ready together?" you proposed. "i'm going to need some guidance."

"of course." her smile was the most beautiful one you had ever seen and it made your heart melt. "i'll just have to leave you alone with all the birthday wishes to get something to wear, and i'll be back soon."

"okay, see you in a bit." as she left, the first thing you did was grab your phone and start replying the overwhelming (and exaggerated) number of messages from your friend group. after that, you called your brother, not only because he asked so but also to let him know where you would be spending the day.

when kika returned, you were on the phone with your mother, crying your heart out. she loved you so much, and her words never failed to touch your soul.

"i love you too, mum." you whispered and ended the call. francisca smiled at you from the other side of the room. "come on, let's get ready." you wiped away your tears and got up from the bed.

yesterday, while charles slept peacefully, your mind had traveled through your current wardrobe to find the perfect outfit to wear. you knew it had to be ferrari red, but it also needed to make you feel special because it was your birthday.

in the end, you chose the red dress you had recently purchased. it seemed perfect for the occasion. as you shuffled through your clothes to retrieve it, kika had a chance to admire the piece.

"oh my god, that dress is going to look so good on you." she exclaimed excitedly and you both smiled as you made your way to the bathroom.

kika opted for a white button-up oversized shirt paired with pink pants that you discovered matched the colors of alpine's livery. She looked gorgeous, as always.

as you expected, your dress fell amazingly on you body, and it was incredibly comfortable. it wasn't an overly extravagant party dress, but it was just right for special occasions like your birthday.

"so, tell me what's charles doing here." the brunette asked when you both started getting your faces ready for make-up.

"charles?" she confirmed, and you glanced at your reflection in the mirror, somewhat oblivious to what she was referring to. "what's he doing here?" she repeated the question. "sleeping?" you half-answered, half-asked.

"yeah, of course, but why is he sleeping here." your eyes met hers through the mirror, and you noticed the smile on her lips.

"because it's his hotel room too, i guess."

"pierre told me that, but why is he still sleeping in this room if he has the one ferrari got him? he has one, doesn't he?" she asked.

"i don’t know." the truth was, you hadn't even thought about it. the monegasque had never told you, and you never asked, so you assumed this was indeed his only room.

"okay i’ll try again. what's going on between you two?" she smiled at you, a knowing look in her eyes.

"nothing," you replied as quickly as the question got to you. "seriously, tell me. you can trust me." she persisted, trying to get something out of you.

"i am telling you, kika." you laughed. in her mind, it was obvious that something was going on because there was no way the charles leclerc she knew would trade a king-sized bed in a five-star hotel for a cheap one he'd have to share.

"are you seriously telling me there's nothing going on between you two when he ditched a rich and attractive model for you, is lying to his team to come sleep in this room when he probably has a much better one waiting for him every night, and hasn't been bar-hopping to stay here teaching you how to play chess? Not to mention that he's taking you to a race to meet his team and friends. do you know how many girls he took to watch a race?" the portuguese counted on her fingers dramatically, as if accusing you of a proper crime.

you continued doing your makeup as she spoke, but you didn't miss a single word. in fact, you paid close attention to everything she said, the words penetrating your bones and getting to your brain automatically.

"yes, i am telling you that." you began and she sighed in response. "what do you mean he ditched a hot model for me?" curiosity filled your body when you heard that, you had to ask.

"that first night when we met, i know he was supposed to meet up with her because she was also a friend of mine, but he didn't show up. when i asked pierre about it, the only thing he said was your name." your face displayed confusion as you applied some contour to your cheek. you stoped what you were doing right away.

you were confused, yes. but you were also slightly irritated, because if the driver hadn't gone to meet that model, you could have slept through the night and avoided the exhausting day that followed.

"i assumed you guys had fancied each other, like love at first sight or something." you shook your head to deny it and picked up your pencil to blend the previously applied contour.

"that did not happen." another sigh left her throat and a question lingered in the tip of your tongue, ready to come out as soon as you opened your mouth. you weren't sure if you should ask, but you were certain you wanted an answer. "the thing you said about the number of girls he took to a race. how many?"

her lips immediately curved as if she said 'nothing may have happened, but you are interested', and of course you were.

who wouldn't be? charles was majestic, a genuinely good guy who knows how to treat people right, and he looked like the most adorable person in the world while sleeping. you would be lying if you said you didn't find him attractive, but he appeared too friendly for you to believe that he even considered flirting with you.

"two, and they were his girlfriends at the time." the smile never left her lips, but your mind was far from her grin.

you eventually finished getting ready, and so did she, a few seconds after. you chatted the whole way to the paddock, only stopping to catch your breath. kika apologized to you for pressing you to tell her what she wanted to hear, but you didn't mind; you knew you would do the same if the roles were reversed.

your social anxiety flared up when francisca had to go in a different direction to reach the alpine garage, but it quickly dissipated when your eyes found a familiar face approaching you with a smile.

charles hugged you once he was close enough and whispered a quiet "hey." he was well aware of how risky it was to show affection in public, especially with all the shit press would give him and possibly even give you. let's just say that he didn't really care.

he guided you to the garage, where you met carlos sainz, his teammate, and bumped into lando, whom you had met on your first night in australia.

meeting lando brought back all the thoughts kika had shared earlier, and those thoughts stayed with you.

charles must have mentioned your birthday to his team because every person you passed by wished you a happy day. you graciously smiled and thanked them, walking by his side.

he briefly introduced you to everything you needed to know and hugged you goodbye when he had to go. you snapped a lot of pictures to send to your brother, and when the race started, you paid close attention to every moment.

the headphones made it harder to zone out as you normally would but you appreciated that. being new to this world, you didn't understand a single word you heard, but that didn't stop you from trying.

all you knew was that the team was incredibly pleased with charles and carlos's performance today. It was evident from their tone and the broad smiles on their faces.

the spark in their eyes intensified when charles overtook the last driver, securing his lead in the race. from what someone told you, a first and fourth-place finish was a significant achievement for scuderia ferrari, and you could know it was true by the fans' excitement.

both ferrari drivers managed to maintain their positions, finishing the race with what appeared to be an outstanding result. you weren't entirely sure what you were cheering for, but you were genuinely happy.

you celebrated with the team and watched the podium ceremony from a distance, still uncertain about where you should be and how to act. you applauded the number 16 and engaged in discussions about his performance with people who had a stake in the matter. from what you heard, he was a really good driver.

people all around you started to move to one direction, and you followed them with your gaze to find the one and only race winner already looking at you. he paused to chat and celebrate with his team, before moving up to you.

opening your arms for him, you embraced him, smiling from ear to ear, genuinely happy for his achievement, even if you didn't fully grasp the significance of a win.

"this one was for you. happy birthday." he whispered in your ear while still holding you close. "thank you, frenchie, and congratulations." you laughed into his shoulder. he playfully protested against your nickname for him but couldn't help but laugh too.

you were engrossed in conversation with him when suddenly, pierre and kika arrived with a cake. everyone in the tifosi garage began singing the "happy birthday" song.

your cheeks flushed, matching the color of your dress within seconds, and you covered your smile with your hands. you were genuinely grateful for these people who didn't even know you but were singing and clapping for you.

the cake they brought was adorned with all your favorite flowers, and now you understood charles' early morning question. as if he could read your thoughts, he approached you, smiling, and hugged you sideways while still singing with his weird accent.

pierre had came closer and at the end of the song you were able to blow out the candles. the smiles on their faces enchanted you, how they all seemed genuinely happy for you, even though it was the first time they had set their eyes on you.

they arranged a table in which pierre placed the cake, and someone handed you a knife to cut it. you, of course, offered the first slice to charles, not only because he knew you best but also because of everything he had done for you. all of this exceeded your expectations.

when you had decided to come to australia to spend some time alone, you could never have imagined what awaited you. not only did you meet new people, but you had also made friends, or at least one friend.

[sherwees]

cw : obsession, manipulation, implications of domestic abuse and why does yangyang have a helicopter in his backyard?

side note : @ne0pearl and @teasteeper wanted me to drop this so here it is!!

side side note : yangyang beret?!

best friend yangyang that'll try to prove that he's better than your boyfriend by buying you all types of luxuries ranging from dolce&gabbana, louis vuitton and rolex. Something else that adorned your neck besides the 1200 dollar necklaces was the hickies that he would leave just so he could hear you struggle trying to explain that they were just bruises; your best lie was saying that it was an allergic reaction.

he'll spend hours on his free days, just scrolling through clothing catalogs (sometimes with his sidekick, hendery) just to pick out his gifts for you. hendery always found something that was perfect and he was a little too exact about your interests but it wasn't that much of a big deal.

when he would looked up at you with his arms around your waist, doe eyes and all in your new outfit in the dressing room. you giggle then grab at the price tag and let out an honestly dramatic gasp with your hand covering your mouth and all. “oh my gosh! 5,000 for a coat?!” you squealed but he immediately shushed you as he stood up with a smug look, eyebrow raised. “don't worry about it.. let your best friend treat you well~” his voice low, smooth like his hands lowering to your ass, giving it a light squeeze before twirling you around.

your boyfriend, winwin which happens to be one of his closest friends always questions him about his gifts makes the happiness crawl up his neck in tingles. his scrunched eyebrows, the hurt in his voice and the looks he gives him just riles him on. deeper into you, deeper into his craze.

yangyang that loves scaring the truth out of you. he loves being all dry in your texts after you maybe say the wrong thing or he catches you hanging out with your boyfriend. sometimes, he would corner you and bombard you with questions that barely have an answer, just like the first day you both started dating.

“do you really love me?” he randomly blurted one morning, you turn on your heel with a confused look at his more angered look. he only walked closer and your ass uncomfortably pressed against the counter but he didn't stop until he stood only a few inches away from you but repeated the question slower as if you didn't already get it. “yeah, as a friend..” you shrugged nonchalantly before attempt to turn back to your cereal but there was suddenly a resounding bang from the cabinet by your ear and you shrieked. “what the fuck!” you whined, covering your ear with hopes to lull the ringing. yangyang muttered, “naïve little whore” before turning you around with a swift tug at your shoulder,

“so all those times together meant nothing to you”

“but I have a boyfri–”

“if you truly loved sicheng, you would've took a sign and left the dressing room that day.” His words spewed like a firework explosion. You cupped your palm around his mouth with a gasp, shaking your head slowly with a quick “Nuh uh!”, you could tell that he was smiling behind your palm. He then licked it with a chuckle, your hand slamming against the counter in the process which elicited a hard grunt from you.

“You're so pretty when you're mad~” he said whilst circling his hand around your neck to grasp and squeeze your nape before heading in for a kiss.

he scared you though. sometimes, he would shove himself in the crane of your neck to whisper belitting words and lies about your relationship; that'll only make you overthink. his persuasion was so good to the point where he convinced you to make him your ‘first time’ because winwin was inexperienced and “wouldn't understand you like he did.”

sometimes, he would even refuse to apologize or convince you that a situation never happened. that day he snuck into your room in the middle of the night. never happened. when he grasped your neck and nearly suffocated you unconscious. was the past and he “changed”. he wanted your relationship to be perfect.

everytime you and winwin had a simple misunderstanding, he would be the first to run to you about what winwin said supposedly:

“He was like, ‘she's too whiny about everything and I just don't fucking understand her! I just wished she understood me more!’” He mocked winwin's emotional state then bellowed a laugh before continuing to blow on his noir nails. A slick, sick grin raised at the corners of his lips once he noticed that your lips was distorted in held back laughter, his dried hand grabbed your cheek caressing it with his tongue peaked from his plump lips.

“But you know I love you more right?”

but when it came up to you both having a misunderstanding, it was different. when he could roughly cradle your balled up figure on the couch, he attempted to coo at you but his tone was urgent,scratchy and whiny as his hands sporadically quaked, patting to find his phone throughout the many pockets of his baggy pants. the only thing that could make you stay at least what he thought would make you stay was buying you things; his bank account locked one day when he was in a raging fit and nearly spent 3 bands just for you to forgive him.

“Look!” he attempted to shove his phone in your face, the high brightness of his phone making your sensitive orbs strain more caused you to wince and shield your face. He mumbled a fast apology, turning down the brightness and scrolled through the pandora website with unsteady fingers.. “I'll buy you something– please forgive me? I didn't mean to hit you.. I'll never put my hands on you ever again..” he lied vowed with you, his voice shook as the tears caked at his waterline nearly overflowing.

“yangyang, just leave me–” you looked over to him with slight surprise when you saw his expression, he seemed unfamiliar because he was actually crying?

“NO!” he yelled, his voice rasp. His black nails digging into your back and left knee, his cries only become louder; you could tell his esophagus was giving out because he started to hiccup.

yangyang was like a child, a snotty three year old. if you didn't give him what he wanted, he would make a tantrum. when he would try to make it up to you, he would finally give you what you wanted. you stared up at the ceiling and to yangyang's bloodshot red eyes, his lips agape; sore and chapped as he grunted and moaned. his hand pressed against your shoulder, his free hand travels to your wrist and his breath was hot&gruff against the top of your limp hand until he laid a chaste kiss on it. “I'll always make it up to you, alright?” he opens your fingers with his thumb before rubbing your palm against his cheek, the warmth of him causing you to slightly smile. “there's my girl..” His toothy smile made it's appearance finally, his thrusts only quickened through your slick channel.

he threw his head back, his hands finding leverage from the bottom of his your shirt as the tandems of pleasure coursed through his veins rapidly. Your high was approaching, quick and heavy but to your luck, yangyang stilled inside of you already. His uncomfortably warm seed pumped into your hole at a steady rate, he manages to lower himself down to mark your jaw and any open area of tan skin he saw. I mean.. at least he was happy, right?

it's been a month since you and winwin uttered a word to each other. His contact was simply back to “Sicheng 🙂”, nothing further. yangyang insisted on removing the emoji or just blocking him, yangyang was like your parent now. he monitored your phone, always looking over your shoulder and got snappy when he was suspicious on your relationships with people.

through your moments of uncertainty, his friend sidekick hendery was always there for you. yangyang would always glare at your closeness or whenever you two thought you were alone. shame started to lay in yangyang's soul heavily, his mind was clouded with regret.

his members were practically scared of him now, xiaojun accidentally slipped that ten was talking to someone and xiaojun only huffed through his nose as ten walked off with his head low, when kun snapped at yangyang about how winwin started to stress himself out from the several opportunities he had in china; even some he volunteered for just so he could stay away from them.

I guess so.

his thumb mindlessly exited all the shopping websites that he had opened, he looked over to you and hendery in the kitchen; you laughing as he swiped off the whipped cream from your nose. is this how winwin felt? worthless, just sitting there as you just slipped through his fingers like jello until you melted into pieces.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Reality Check

𖤐Pairing: Husband! Soap x Wife! Raeder

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, angst, harsh language, spoiled brat, married couple, slight comparing to siblings, arguing, happy ending,

𖤐Summary: Your young daughter hangs out with the wrong crowd and your oldest child gives her a bit of a reality check

————

————

Kiara was surrounded by her 'friends' at lunch. Kiara was a 7th grader in middle school. Her mom and dad were able to get her to the same school her older went to.

A high-end private school.

Her older brother Ryker held a good reputation in the school and everyone knew Kiara because of Ryker.

But Kiara was just making herself look stupid hanging out with these type of girls and not girls that actually wanna be her friends. What I mean is Kiara hangs out with the rich, spoiled brat, daddies money girls.

They pack around Louis Vuitton bags, Gucci belts holding up their skirts, end up makeup, and high end skin care that they don't need but yell at their parents for.

Kiara didn't have that, she'd be lucky if she even got the latest new phone. Her mom worked as an assistant to a Law Firm and her dad was in the Military and wasn't home a lot, so her mom was doing a lot of the work.

A mom working 40 hours a week, barely a husband that comes home. Ryker sometimes had to step in and be a parent a few times. But he doesn't blame his parents. They're just busy people and try to be there for their kids.

Kiara laughed with her 'friends' as they made fun of the group of girls who liked to play video games. Kiara deep down liked to play video games, but stopped to fit in with her friends.

"Oh, girls, I'm having a sleepover, tomorrow, for my birthday, don't forget to bring gifts," her friend Lily says. Lily was like...Regena George, popular and rich and everyone 'liked' her.

Not really

The girls giggled as Kiara just smiled at Lily.

"Bring expensive gifts," Lily emphasized on the word expensive.

Kiara didn't have any of her own money, and Y/n was strict on what to buy for a 12-13 year-old.

"Oh I already know what I'm bringing."

"Same."

"Yeah, you're going to LOVE it, Lily."

"Kiara?"

"Huh?"

"Are you coming?" Lily asked, placing her hand on her arm after she got done picking at her newly fresh nails.

"Yeah, I think so...I'd-"

"Have to ask your mom?" Lily mocked Kiara. Kiara used to say she'd have to ask her mom a lot and Lily was tired of it and 'taught' Kiara how to do whatever she wants without her mom knowing, but her mom was good, she knows almost everything that Kiara is up to.

"No," Kiara says. "Nah, fuck my mom, I'll come, I'll catch a ride," Kiara says.

"Good."

The girls kept talking as Kiara rubbed her arm.

---------

2:30PM

"MAMA! I'M HOME!!" Kiara yells from downstairs and kicked her shoes off at the front door.

"She's not home," Ryker came around the corner with an apple in his hands.

"Is she at work?"

"She was just called in, I got home an 1 hour ago and she was asked to come in," he says.

"Oh good, can you take me to the mall?"

"Why?" Ryker questioned her.

"Because it's Lily's birthday tomorrow and I want to get her a gift," Kiara says, placing her bag on a bar stool.

"Who cares, and mom won't let you go."

"She won't have to know, if you just take me."

"Hell no, I'm not taking you."

"WHY NOT!?" Kiara yells.

"Because mom hates Lily, you know this, but yet you still choose to be friends with her."

"Because Lily is nice to me."

"She treats you like a slave, Kiara," Ryker tells her.

"No, she doesn't."

"Did she say get an expensive gift?" Ryker raised his eyebrow.

"Yeah and?"

"With what money are you going to get her an expensive gift?"

"You can help me-"

"Fuck no, Kiara!"

"THIS IS SO UNFAIR!!"

"HOW IS IT UNFAIR!?"

"Because why do I bother going to some fancy private rich kid school if I can't even get expensive things?"

"You should be fucking lucky you even got into that school, Kiara. Mom and dad worked their asses off just to get you thought the fucking door," Ryker tells her.

"Kids?"

"Dad," both kids say at the same time.

"Where's your mom?"

"Work, she got called in-dad tell Kiara she can't go to Lily's house tomorrow."

"Lily?" Soap was confused.

"She's some girl that treats Kiara like a slave."

"SHE DOES NOT!! OH MY FUCKING GOD, RYKER!!"

"HEY!" Soap yells at his daughter. "What the hell did you just say?" Kiara knew she fucked up when the word slipped past her lips.

"Dad-"

"Room. now. When your mom comes home, we're having a discussion," Soap points to the stairs and Kiara had hot tears in her eyes and rushed upstairs and Soap heard her door slam shut. "What the hell was going on?" Soap asked, Ryker.

--------

9:00PM

Y/n had come home, taking her heels off at the front door and saw Soap coming towards her.

"Soap," she smiles at him, she placed her hands on his forearms kissing his lips.

"Hi, love," he says into the kiss. "We have a bit of an issue."

"What kind of issue?" She asked.

---------

Ryker had explained everything, Y/n and Soap went upstairs to their daughters bedroom. Y/n knocked and heard a low grumble. She opens the door and both parents walk in.

"Kiara?"

"I'm tired...leave me alone..."

"Sit up, Kiara," Soap says, a bit stern, Y/n placed her hand on his shoulder as a 'calm down.'

"Kiara, I want to know from you what happened?" Y/n asked.

"Fine," Kiara sits up. "I HAVE A RICH FRIEND, WHO WANTS AN EXPENSIVE BIRTHDAY GIFT BUT I CAN'T EVEN GET IT FOR HER BECAUSE I HAVE NO MONEY AND NONE OF YOU ARE GOING TO HELP ME GET IF FOR HER!"

"Is this rich friend, Lily? You know how I feel about Lily-"

"MOM! PLEASE! I DON'T CARE, SHE IS MY FRIEND!"

"Kiara if you don't stop yelling at your mother-" Y/n stops Soap.

"Kiara Amelia McTavish," Kiara knows the full name isn't a good sign. "You are a lucky girl, you wanna know why?"

"Why mom?" Kiara asked a bit annoyed.

"Because," Y/n walks into the bedroom and sat next to Kiara. "You have a mom and dad that loves you, an older brother that paved the way for you for middle school, but...I am tired of you coming home and asking for outrageous things...last week you asked for a Prada bag-"

"A month ago, you asked for a Gucci belt," Soap joins in.

"This isn't you asking for outrageous and expensive thing."

"Then what is the point of going to a rich kid school, if we're poor?"

"For an education, and we're not poor," Soap says. "We just don't think a 13-year-old needs such expensive things, your brother doesn't even have such expensive things..."

"Why do you think you want them, Kiara?" Y/n asked, placing her hand on Kiara's back.

"Because I want to fit in with my friends, they all have expensive things and carry the most expensive and luxury things, I want to fit in, I feel out of place when I sit with them at lunch," Kiara says.

"Kiara, you are an amazing and smart young girl, you shouldn't need expensive things to feel like you need to fit in...aren't there other girls at the school that don't have expensive things?"

"Yeah but...Lily hates them, she makes fun of them all the time, if I leave the friend group to have those girls as my friends, Lily won't speak or hang out with me."

"Who cares, Kiara."

"Ryker-"

"No mom, I'm sorry, but I am so tired of hearing, Kiara only talk about Lily and what Lily wants, she never thinks about her own feelings only Lily's. Kiara, she treats you like a slave. You are my little sister and I am tired of this Lily girl."

"I agree with Ryker," Soap says.

Kiara rolled her eyes at her family.

"Kiara," she looks at her mom. "I want you to do the right thing...okay?"

"Whatever."

"Till then, you're grounded," Soap says.

"WHAT WHY!?"

"Because of the yelling at your mother and cussing at me." She rolled her eyes again. "And for rolling your eyes at us," Soap and Ryker left her bedroom as Y/n moved her daughter dark brown hair from her face and kissing her temple.

"I know you'll do the right thing, Kiara," she says, getting off the bed and heading to her bedroom to change from her work clothes.

--------

Kiara was laying on her stomach on her phone and having her laptop play a random YouTube video. She was on Amazon looking at gifts for Lily, but she shuts her phone off and tossed it on her pillow.

She falls on her back and looked up at the ceiling.

"I'm not going tomorrow," Kiara says as she walked into the dinning room, Ryker was eating leftover spaghetti.

"Okay?" Ryker says as he was still eating.

"Where's mom and dad?"

"Eating out, tonight, date night," he says.

"Are they bring anything back?"

"Maybe, this is just to hold me over till they get back," he says picking at the leftovers. "So you made up your mind?"

"Yeah...you were right..." she hates to admit that to him, since Ryker has a 'big ego' as Kiara says. "Lily is a bitch."

"Aren't you grounded for cursing?"

"You gonna snitch to dad?"

"No," he smirks.

--------

Y/n and Soap came back kicking their shoes off at the front door and seeing Ryker on the couch watching TV and Kiara on her phone.

"We brought some food back," Y/n says, placing a plastic bag of food on the marble counter. Kiara and Ryker jump off the couch and started to open the bag and pulling out their food.

"Thanks," Ryker says for the both of them.

"Kiara," Soap opens his hand, letting her know she shouldn't have her phone. She groans and slaps her phone on his palm. "You'll get it back later."

"When's later?"

"Friday," he says. She tossed her head back knowing she'll have to wait a week to get her phone back.

Ryker smirks and Kiara punched his arm. Y/n just giggled at her kids.

After a while Soap and Y/n were snuggled against each other watching their favorite show as Ryker was in his room playing video games and Kiara was scrolling on her laptop.

She then saw in the bottom corner a notification from Lily to the group chat. She opened the message and read it.

Lily: The party is actually going to be at our Lake house Here's the address

Jade: OMG it's huge, I'm DEFINITLY coming

Angel: Oh yes! I'll so be there

Lily: Kiara, are you coming?

Kiara started to type and she knows everyone could see bubbles popping up letting them know she was typing, but she stops before she hits send and started to backspace it.

She left the group chat and started to watch her YouTube again.

Then the notifications started to pour in. Them asking her questions if she changed her mind, did she forget she was typing and then a personal message from Lily popped up making Kiara click it and see.

Lily: Hey, saw you were texting in the group chat, the location changed to my lake house, are you coming, if so can you bring snacks and soda?

Kiara: Actually Lily, I'm not Have someone else bring your snacks and soda, ask Angel or something, I'm not coming

Lily: Did you not ask your mom or something? Did your brother say no on the ride? I can send our butler out there to go get you

Kiara: Fuck no, keep your butler away from my house, I have made up my mind to not come to your lame ass birthday party

Lily: WHAT!? KIARA MCTAVISH WE ARE NO LONGER FRIENDS AND I DON'T WANT YOU SITTING WITH US AT LUNCH!!!

Kiara: Fine by me, bitch

Kiara blocked Lily's number along with the rest of the 'friends' numbers. She closed her laptop and got under the covers and fell asleep.

--------

Monday

Kiara saw her old friends eating and laughing and Lily was showing off her new gifts.

Kiara looked past the group and saw the girls that played video games just behind them playing on their switches and seeing like they were having fun together.

Kiara put on a brave face and walked past her old group of friends to the other girls.

Lily and the others all gave Kiara a nasty look as she passed them but she ignored their stares and glares and mentally imagined herself flipping off Jade, sticking her tongue out at Angel and slapping the shit out of Lily.

"Hi."

"Oh hi, Kiara."

"Can I sit with you?"

"Sure," the girl moved over letting Kiara sit next to her as Kiara placed her bag between her feet and placed her lunch on the metal table.

"Have you ever played this?" She asked Kiara.

"No," Kiara shakes her head.

"Here, try it," she gives Kiara her switch and showed Kiara how to play it. "Wow, you did that so easily."

"I use to play video games," she says.

"Here..." she writes down her number and gives it to Kiara. "We should play together sometime."

"I'd like that," Kiara gives her a soft smile and saved her number.

[toasttt11]

never grow up; lando norris, jack hughes

summary: memories of estella leclerc

estelle leclerc x lando norris, estelle leclerc x jack hughes

tag list: @chelawrites @faithm120601

estelle soleil leclerc the only leclerc sister, the older twin sister of arthur leclerc, a formula one driver for red bull racing, being the youngest world champion and only female to win a f1 race as well as a championship, an ambassador for nike and louis vuitton, the youngest face ever on a vogue front cover and to date the most vogue covers belong to her.

name: estelle soleil leclerc

birthday: october 13, 2000

age: 22

height: 5”6

racing career:

karting 2008-2014

ferrari driver academy 2013-2018

formula four- 2015-2016

formula three- 2017

formula two- 2018

formula one-2019

red bull racing- 2019-2023

championship win 2019, 2021

vogue partnership started 2009

sponsors-nike, lululemon, apple, louis vuitton

siblings- lorenzo tolotta-leclerc, charles leclerc, arthur leclerc

godfather- jules bianchi

love interests- lando norris, jack hughes

May 22, 2008

Estelle walked around with her sage green helmet in hand and her overalls on seeing all the other kids around her age and seeing no girls just boys, it started a fire in her to prove everyone wrong and show girls can kart too, she lost her younger twin brother who was with their parents.

All of sudden a boy with brown hair tripped in front of her and another boy running behind him with black curls on his head, the boy who fell lifted his head seeing a girl with perfect chestnut brown curls and sparkling hazel green eyes, she raised a brow with a hint of a smile gracing her face as she reached down a hand for the boy, he grabbed scrambling up, “T-thanks i’m Lando.” He grinned with all his teeth, a gap between his front two teeth, he pointed towards his best friend Max, “And this is Max.” Max waved with a smile.

“I’m Estelle.” She smiled her french accent coming out before the boys could reply they heard a voice shout and a boy come running towards them.

“Essie!” Arthur shouted running over to his twin taking her hand and starting to pull her back to their parents, she turned around waving bye at the two, not knowing in the future they would become best friends.

“Who were they?” Arthur questioned in french.

“Their names are Lando and Max.” She responded back in french, before they got to their parents and older brothers.

“Oh there you are darling we were looking for you.” Pascale grinned seeing her twins, looking happier knowing her daughter was fine but she usually tends to wonder off.

“Je suis désolé Maman.” Estelle apologized knowing her mother is protective of her, Her mother dismissed her apology with a fond smile.

Estelle was suddenly picked off from behind and tossed over someone shoulder who was spinning her around, she giggled knowing exactly who it was, “Pear stop it!” She giggled as she got gently set down looking up seeing Pierre Gasly, her brothers best friend and a family friend, basically her fourth brother.

“Sorry petite étoile.” Pierre cheekily grinned calling her little star, as he has since she was born.

“No you’re not.” Estelle sassed back cocking an eyebrow and a hand on her hip.

“Someone’s sassy today.” Chalres fond voice came by her ear as he leaned kissing her cheek twice.

“Hi cha.” She smiled sweetly kissing his cheek back.

“You excited for your first race.” Charles looked between his little twin siblings, getting two identical nods in return, “Good you’re both going to do great!” He kisses both their heads.

“Duh! We’re Leclerc’s!” Estelle sassed with a smile, as Arthur nodded along with her, Charles fondly laughed, Pierre smiled down at the twins. Herve and Pascale shared a fond look glad their family is so close with each other.

January 4, 2010

Estelle walked into her house her foot shutting the door behind her as she held the handful of mail she got from the mail box for her parents, she knew her family were waiting for her so they could eat lunch together, she walked towards the kitchen entering it when she saw the magazine, she squealed jumping up and down as the other mail dropped on the ground, her whole family looked up seeing her squealing jumping, as her perfect chestnut brown curls bounced with her around her pink headband on her head.

“What is it darling?” Pascale looked up from the kitchen island, Herve looked up from his newspaper as well.

“Maman Papa it came.” She grinned her beautiful bright smile turning the magazine towards them, revealing her face on the cover of vogue becoming the youngest ever to do so.

“Oh petit soleil that’s wonderful.” Herve grinned proudly of his daughter who is already accomplishing so much and he couldn’t wait to see her continue to do so, he wrapped his arm around her pressing kisses on her head.

“Mon cheri!” Pascale gasped looking at the cover as her filled with fresh wet tears, she scooped her only daughter in her arms rocking them back and forth, “I am so proud of you my darling.”

Estelle giggled happily just as Chalres stood up and picked her up spinning her around making her giggles fill the room.

“That’s so cool petite soeur!” Charles grinned setting his favorite sibling down gently.

“Merci Cha!” She grinned up at him, before getting pushed back as Arthur tackled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around his twin tightly, “Congrats mon jumeau!” She giggled kissing his cheek.

Lorenzo walked over gently hugging his little sister tightly and kissing her forehead.

Jules stood grinning proudly at his goddaughter, he scooped her up spinning her around making her laugh, “Ah ma belle, i’m so proud.” He pressed kisses to top of her head making her giggle.

“Merci juju!” Estrelle grinned at her godfather.

“I think this calls for chocolate cake to celebrate.” Pascale smiled watching her twins heads snap towards her in unison.

“CHOCOLATE CAKE!” Estelle and Arthur gasped in unison, their favorite food, dessert, anything to do with food is chocolate desserts especially their mothers chocolate cake.

“Please Maman!” The twins sent their identical puppy dog eyes towards their mother.

“Of course my darlings.” Pascale fondly smiled kissing both of their cheeks.

April 20, 2015

Estelle a year ago joined the Ferrari Academy and had started driving with Prema this season in formula 4, with her teammates Zhou Guanyu and Ralf Aron, she currently dominating all the rookies in the series and putting up a good fight with the rest of the grid, the team thinking the next year will be more her year.

Estelle has becoming more familiar with the Prema team as her brother is also apart of the team and her godfather was also once a part of the Prema team, so she’s began to find a family there but more so with the ferrari academy.

She accepted to go with Angelina Ertsou, one of the more important and influential people in the series’s before formula one and someone who’s has began to care lots for the young girl who’s very determined to prove herself.

Angelina has been going to different karting races when she has the chance to look for upcoming talents and kids Prema may want to have on their teams and where they would recommend them to sign to a junior team. Also seeing kids who they have to talked to already who they know they want to have in the future.

Estelle eye was caught of on the kart with number 8, happening to watch the person driving with her number, who was leading the race almost the entire time until the last lap when someone behind the kart clipped it and number eight was pushed off the trac as the back of the kart was ripped off, and Estelle couldn’t help but frown seeing the kids race be ruined because of someone behind him knowing how much that’s sucks. She watched the race finished and saw the kid who clipped the kart being happy and arrogant with his win.

Estelle saw the kid in number 8 take the helmet off showing a younger boy with light brown hair, she could she the way he frowned and walked off towards one of sides of a building, she kept that in mind when she felt Angelina tap her arm to get up and walk to set a of parents that Angelina have talked to before.

“David! Terri!” Angelina smiled as she walked over the two but she could feel her face slip into concern as she saw them turn around and both looking distressed, “Is everything alright?”

“Our son we turned to see the end of the race and when we turned back he was out of his kart and gone.” Terri hurriedly explained looking worried not wanting to move knowing their son saw them their last.

Estelle couldn’t help but frown thinking of a boy that she saw walk away, “Was his number eight by chance.”

The parents turned slightly noticing the younger girl who’s face was covered in freckles and had beautiful green hazel eyes, her chestnut brown hair was in high ponytail spilt into two braids, a green quarter zip jacket with a black puffer vest over it, black leggings, and black leather boots.

“He is, did you see him?” David looked concerned as he hoped for good answer from the young girl.

“I think so i can go bring him back if you would like?” Estelle kindly offered having a feeling they woundnt want to leave as she saw they also have two younger children as well.

The parents both breathes a sigh of relief thanking the girl profusely who waved it off with a kind smile excusing herself walking over to building seeing a young boy sitting against the wall crying.

Estelle sat down slowly next to him not wanting to frighten him, “You know when i got clipped out i cried for a long while.”

The young boys head lifted up seeing someone sitting next to him with a kind smile towards him, He sniffed whipping his face, “Did you ever get over it?” He knew this was only his second year in karting but he wanted to prove himself so hard and that was difficult when his race was ruined with something out of his control.

Estelle gently scoffed, “Not for a long while. I cried for so long, i think my eyes were permanently red for a long while!” The boy smiled slightly making Estelle happy she is making him feel a bit better.

“But what i did learn later on was that to be a great driver you have to bad races and make mistakes because that’s how you get better. It’s okay to have a bad race or for it end with something out of your control but if you gave it your all then that’s all that matter. We are human and at the end of the day we aren’t perfect. So losing is okay even though it doesn’t always feel the best.” Estelle gave the advice she wished she knew when she had bad race days and would beat herself up for along time, something she still try’s not to do anymore.

The boy slowly nodded listening intently to the older girl, he didn’t feel completely better but he did feel a lot better than he did a few minutes ago, “Thank you.” Before his eyes opened wider sheepishly realizing he doesn’t know her name yet, “I’m Ollie, Ollie Bearman.”

Estelle smiled at the younger boy watching him put his hand out for a handshake, she gently took his hand shaking it, “Hello Ollie, i’m Estelle Leclerc.”

Ollie gasped in recognition, “Your the only girl driver in F4!” Ollie smiled having been rooting for her since he started watching the series.

Estelle smiled and nodded, “I am, but we do need to get you back to your parents buddy they’re looking for you.” She stood up brushing herself off holding a hand down for Ollie who gently took and stood and when Estelle was going to take her hand away Ollie just tightens his grip on her hand, Estelle just smiled at the young boy and walked over to where his parents were, seeing Angelina talk with another set of parents in the distance.

She watched the two parents both gasp in relief hugging their son tightly who was apologizing realizing he scared them.

Terri and David pulled back from their son looking at the young girl who found him, “Thank you so much.” Terri smiled in thankfulness at Estelle.

Estelle just smiled, “It’s not a problem.

“Where are my manners, I’m Terri Bearman and this is my husband David.” Terri smiled holding her hand out to Estelle who smiled seeing where Ollie got it from.

“I’m Estelle Leclerc.” Estelle politely smiled shaking Terri’s hand.

Angelina finshed talking with the other parents she had to talk to walking over seeing Estelle had found Ollie.

Angelina was talking with David and Teri, as Ollie walked around them and stood with Estelle who kneeled down to be level with him as she talked to Ollie.

The conversation with the three of them was at the end when they heard two loud laughs they looked over seeing Estelle and Ollie both laughing hard, and Ollie was naturally leaning on the older girl, who was about five years older then him.

“Ollie doesn’t usually get comfortable with people that fast.” Terri smiled seeing her son laugh and be comfortable with another person.

Angeline fondly smiled, “It’s Estelle, she has that effect of people.”

“We can see that.” David smiled seeing the two both talk so animated with each other and he had a feeling this would not be the last time they saw Estelle.

“I’ll see you again right?” Ollie looked hopeful as he looked at her.

“Promise buddy.” Estelle gave his hair a ruffle having a feeling Ollie will be joining Prema sooner than later.

The Bearmans watched the two walk away, “We’ll see Estelle again won’t we?” Ollie looked at his parents in hopefulness.

Terri brushed his hair smiling at her son, “You really like don’t you?”

Ollie rapidly nodded, “She’s awesome!”

The parents shared a look figuring they could ask Angelina a way to have Estelle be able to talk to Ollie.

What they all didn’t know what that it was the beginning of a amazing friendship and mentorship between the two racers.

July 21, 2015

The air just felt bare, silent, stoic. Estelle didn’t know but it just felt wrong knowing there would never be a time to make new memories with Jules again, never a time to go to a baseball game with him again, never a time to get a hug from him again, never a time to have sleepovers at his house for godfather-goddaughter days again. She knew there was never going to be a day she didn’t miss him.

Jules has been there for everything, he’s been there for her whole life, most of every family memories include Jules, he’s family he always will be.

Estelle couldn’t help but think that Jules would be lonely wherever he’s ended up and she hoped she’s wrong she couldn’t live with herself if she knew Jules was alone and without any family and friends.

Estelle leaned against the outside of church after his funeral, not even knowing how it already ended, she was trying not sob the entire funeral as she helped her two brothers hands.

She felt someone sit next to her and a hand intertwines with hers and head lean on her shoulder, she knew it was her younger twin brother, who was hurting as much as her.

“You’re not dying without me.” Arthur’s voice was raspy from not talking for awhile.

Estelle knew what he meant, they all could see Lorenzo become broken without his best friend and she knew exactly what Arthur meant. She looked over seeing the dry tear marks on his cheeks kissing the top of his head before leaning her head on his, “Never Arty, Never.” She knew it would destroy then if the one of them died before the other. She didn’t want to live in a world without her other half, a feeling she knew was mutual.

Charles walked out of the church looking to the side seeing his younger siblings curled up together, Arthur his eyes were red from crying and cheeks cried with tears, but Estelle’s face was blank but her eyes were what showed all the pain, the beautiful sparkle in her eye gone, he hoped he never had to see that look on her again.

Charles walked over sitting next to Estelle taking her other hand kissing her head letting her lean on his shoulder he wrapped one arm around both of his twins and his other holding Estelle’s hand.

The siblings sat for the rest the time in silence, cuddled up with each other for the rest of the funeral.

June 20, 2017

A seventeen year old Estrelle who looked heartbroken as she stood in the doorway to her fathers hospital room, she knew this was goodbye and the last time she could ever speak to her papa again, her mother gently touched her shoulder giving her a sad but encouraging look as she is the last one of her siblings to say her goodbyes.

She told a deep breath slowly walking in seeing the oxygen mask over his mouth and nose, she scooted the chair closer to his bed sitting down holding her fathers hand resting it against her lips kissing the back of her Papa’s hand.

Herve eyes weakly fluttered open looking to his right seeing his beautiful little princess who isn’t so small anymore and knew this was the last time they would see each other, his other hand weakly tried to get to his oxygen mask to speak, Estelle quickly helped him slip it off slighty.

“I’m so proud of you petit soleil.” He weakly croaked out his hand tightening around hers.

She shallowed before before she spoke, “I got into formula one papa, i’ll make you proud i promise.” She knew she lied as she just got accepted into formula two after winning the formula three championship this season, but she knew it’s always been her fathers dream to see her get into formula one and he’s been her biggest supporter and if she has to lie to make him happy, it’s fine by her. It just means she needs to make sure she gets into formula one after the next season.

Herve eyes lights up with happiness and proudness, tears filled his eyes as his hand weakly reached for the back of her head pulling her closer as he kissed her forehead, “Je t'aime petit soleil.”

“moi aussi, je t'aime papa.” Estelle mumbled back telling her father she loved him for the last time trying to hold her tears from falling, she felt the hand of her mother on her shoulder she gently pulled back from her papa looking at his face once more, the twos eyes connecting saying everything that was not said out-loud, she turned around holding a hand over moth to hold back her sobs as she walked into the hallway where her brothers were waiting, her twin who was crying into Lorenzo’s shoulder and Charles who was staring into the distance.

Estella sluggishly walked towards Chalres sitting next to him, “I lied i told papa i got into F1.”

Charles blinked hearing his sisters voice he reached his hand over holding hers, “I told papa i got into Ferrari.”

“Then we have to do that.” Estella declared making sure the last thing she told her Papa will come true.

“We will.” Charles leaned his head onto top of her head as they listen to the sound of their father’s heart monitor stop, both of their identical eyes losing its sparkle, again.

December 17, 2018

Estelle who just turned eighteen a few months ago finally has got the time to see the penthouse she bought the day she turned eighteen.

She picked her favorite place New York. Jules took her many times when she was younger, they would take a trip together, sightseeing around New York, going to see a yankees game and ever since the first time Estelle loves New York, and has been yankees fan since.

She’s wanted to have a place in New York since she could remember and the day she turned old enough she signed the papers.

Estella knows starting in Formula one in a few months she won’t get as much time as she will like to come visit but it will be nice to have a place where she can go and relax and just be herself even if it’s for a few days, she is also close to the yankees stadium and she close to Vogue headquarters which is where she has to go to a lot anyways.

She bought a penthouse that has two stories and a loft in it, The view of the city is beautiful and almost all the windows are from the floor to ceilings, the whole bottom floor is very open and feels spacious. A lot of metal and glass around the whole penthouse, very open floor plan on the bottom floor, her kitchen is very open with a large island, four guest bedrooms and her master bedroom, a huge bookcase that’s she already planning to fill with many books, a office that has the perfect view of the city, and her own at home gym, her bathroom has a huge bathtub perfect for relaxing where she can see the city from the bathtub, both stories have a balcony that wrap around the outside of the building and she has to have her key or a code to get to her floor from the elevator which is good for safety, and there is security in the apartment building twenty four seven.

She unlocked her beautiful door walking into the home that’s fully furnished alreadly and she already felt at peace.

She walked across the center of the room towards the other side that’s filled with large window loving the view she has of New York City.

Estelle turned her head taking everything in she walked down the hallway to the right of the front door that she knows is her side, she opened the door to her bedroom locking the open and simply look, she walked across towards her closet, that she already loves as it has so much room for close, Estelle always has to much clothing and she knew it would not be difficult for her to fill it fast.

Estelle turned to the other side of her room that had the bathroom door reaviling her beauty of a bathroom, a huge glass shower with a rain shower head, a giant bathtub by the windows, two matching sinks with large mirrors, and a vanity with a stool and mirror on the other side, she closed the door walking out of the room back to hallway passing the front door again heading up the first flight of stairs where she knows is her gym and all of her guest bedrooms, she walked towards the next set of stairs that leads to her loft is what she picked for her office.

Estelle walked towards the desk sitting in the chair looking out the window and smiled she got her dream house. A place she can choose to call home.

Having a hard time call Monaco home after her Father and Jules death.

September 8, 2019

“MERCEDES THREW EVERYTHING AT THEM TODAY, CHARLES LECLERC COPED BRILLIANTLY. HE WON IN SPA, HE WINS IN MONZA. ESTELLE LECELEC THE ROOKE EVERYONE WAS TOLD TO LOOK OUT FOR, HAS JUST PROVED WHY WITH A SEOND PLACE PODIUM IN HER ROOKIE YEAR, NOT ONCE HAS SHE FINISHED LOWER THAN FIFTH THE WHOLE SEASON.”

Chalres cheered as he pulled his car into the first place spot, running towards his team getting hugs and pats on the back, before he heard more cheers again and turned seeing his sister getting out of her car in second place, and he couldn’t help the tears fillings his eyes seeing his little sister grow up and accomplish a piece of her dream he quickly ran towards her not being able to the see her bright smile that he knew she had under her helmet, he pulled her into a tight hug feeling her arms tighten around him.

They pulled back the two siblings looking at each other, placing there for heads together through their helmets.

“A sibling 1-2!” Charles grinned as he spoke to his sister knowing it’s been their dream to get a 1-2 together.

Estelle laughed full of excitement, “We’ll have to get a 1-2-3 next!” She grinned under the helmet knowing sooner than later they will be joined by Arthur and they will have a podium of just Leclercs.

Chalres fondly laughed, putting his hand where her buckle is on her helmet helping it undo, watching her pull it off head as he undid his, He threw a arm around her shoulder, as they walked to the weight scale.

Estelle was the first to walk in the cool off room she put a finger over her lips as she looked at the cameras before walking towards the winners seat which should be Charles seat today but Estelle quickly sat in it grinning as she drank from her water bottle.

Lewis walked into chucked shaking his head seeing where Estelle sat, patting her on the head congratulating her for her first podium. Lewis has followed Estelle career for awhile and has been one of her biggest supporters since she joined Formula one.

Charles walked into the cool off room setting his helmet on the table drinking water and wiping his face, as he turned around seeing Estelle sitting in his seat with an innocent face, Charles raised an eyebrow laughing, “Really?” Estelle just smiled in reply.

“Alright off ma cherie.” He gently pushed her off and toward her seat, “Don’t worry soon it will be your seat.”

And Charles wasn’t wrong the next race, Singapore, Estelle got her first win, as a rookie in Singapore. She continued to win the rest of the races thought our the season, fighting until the last race to win the championship against Lewis and gaining the championship title, as a rookie and a female.

December 12, 2019

Estelle was in one of the many Vouge headquarters seeing the young and upcoming models and doing a talk day for them all, especially as she just became a formula one world champion at 19 and have been working with vogue for 10 years already.

The talk was her giving tips and advice in the model world, talking about the highs and lows of being a model and she showed them a few different model walks and had the group of around 20 young girl teenagers copy her, the hours went by fast before she knew it almost everyone was gone and she had finished answering anyone who came up to her for questions.

Estelle saw a girl who looked a few years younger than her sitting on a bench packing up her bag and sliding off her heeled shoes, wincing slighty, Estelle walked over stopping in front of her, “May i sit?” She gestured to the spot next to the the girl.

The girls head snapped up nodding, “Sim. I mean yes.” She answered in Portuguese before giving a sheepish smile, Estelle smiled sitting down looking at her sore feet, “My feet used to the same, so i started putting plaster on the parts that got hurt and i never had a problem again.” Estelle gestured to the girls feet knowing what’s it’s like to get use to heels.

The girl blinked in surpise nodding, “Oh thank you.” She smiled slighty putting her hand out, “I’m Fransicia but everyone calls be Kika.”

“It’s nice to meet you Kika, I’m Estelle” Estelle smiled shaking her hand, having a feeling Kika was going to become someone pretty special to her.

“Oh i know.” Kika smiled slighty shy having always looked up to Estelle as she is so young and is already the top model worldwide.

“Well can i have your number then Kika.” Estelle gently smiled at the girl, knowing she was going to great things in the modeling world.

“Course.” Kika blinked slighty shocked that she wanted be number but then realized Estelle is still a regular person too and she is only three years older than her. Kika took the phone Estella passed to her typing in her number real quick, before passing it back.

The two said their goodbyes to each other and it was the start of a beautiful friendship.

May 24, 2022

Estelle parked her Porsche 911 Turbo S Carbriolet, That she of course bought in a dark green color. She grabbed her green Dior saddle bag, slipping on her Prada sunglasses getting out of the car, walking up towards the hair salon that her mother owns, Estelle knew her mother didn’t have any clients today but she would be at the salon, She walked into the salon putting sunglasses on the top of her head smiling as she watched her mother head look up to tell whoever was coming in they weren’t open for business today but stopped when she her daughter.

“Oh my darling!” Pascale gasped in delight rushing forward pulling her daughter into a hug, feeling a rush of nostalgia when they hugged and Estelle taller than her when she used to be shorter than her. Pascale pulled back cupping Estelle face having missed seeing her the last few week in person, “Mon amour your aren’t suppose be here till tomorrow night?” Pascale questioned knowing it was a rule in their family when it was Monaco race weekend all her children come home and have dinner together and that is tomorrow night.

“It was a surprise thought we could have the day and tomorrow just us before the boys come over.” Estelle smiled watching her mother light up in excitement knowing she missed her children a lot and is glad to have anytime with them.

“Of course darling!” Pascale smiled kissing her daughters cheek, “Is this why your brother dropped me off today?” Pascale smiled watching the slight sheepish look cover her only daughter’s face, a look she saw more often with Estelle as she grew up.

“Yes Maman.” Estelle knew her mom would figure it out quickly, As her mother knew all her children the best.

Pascale fondly smiled, “Now it’s time to do your hair mon cher!” Always loving to do her daughters hair as they don’t get as much time anymore.

“Of course Maman.” Estelle fondly smiled letting her mother drag her to Salon chair and tying the cutting cape over her.

Pascale looked over her daughter’s beautiful hair deciding what to do, “Hmm what about a gloss?” She looked through the mirror seeing the nod of approval, Pascale knowing that her daughter doesn’t love to dye her hair and would rather it be her natural color.

“Your shoes were beautiful in the picture you sent.” Pascale complimented her daughter, Estelle always made sure to send photos and videos when she was away of everything and anything so her mother could still be a big part of her life.

“Good, i have a pair in your size Maman.” Estelle cheekily grinned knowing her mother didn’t love how all her children spoil her as they have grown up and earn their own money.

“Of course you did cheri.” Pascale fondly smiled knowing she couldn’t stop her children from spoiling her, she’s tried.

The mother and daughter just talked for hours as Pascele did the gloss, before she cut Estelle’s hair and gave her a blow out.

Estelle stood up gently taking off the cutting cape fixing the white and black stripped sweater that’s tied across her shoulder, with her black cropped shirt with blue jeans and white converse, as she smiled at her hair gently touching always loving it the best when her mother did it.

“Merci Maman!” Estelle kissed her mother cheeks in thank you. She linked arms with her mother as they walked out of the salon locking it up, before walking over to Estelle car going to get lunch together before they shopped the rest of the day.

[jebewonmorelike]

Young and Rich, Tall and Just Ask Me Out Already

wc: 2.1k pronouns: n/a; none used warnings: none really? maybe the tiniest bit of angst... fluff... and i used the word d*ck once, my bad also you can pretend they're in college or high school, doesn't really matter summary: prepschool!ricky/richboy!ricky just can't get scholarshipkid!reader to go out with him no matter how many helicopters he lands in the school courtyard ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ guys... whoah... rich-boy-with-a-soft-side ricky just kind of hits different? i must say i outdid myself with this one so please, please, please enjoy :)

Ricky has been trying to convince you to go on a date with him for two weeks now.

The first time he asked you was after Chemistry one afternoon. You had been assigned as lab partners at the beginning of the semester and shared a desk during class every Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 1:10 to 2:40 P.M.

At first, you'd found it kind of difficult to relate to Ricky. His dad was a CEO at some big tech company and he didn't really let anyone forget it. Always flaunting his designer watch with the newest phone model in hand, entire classes full of students couldn't help but fall for him as he draped his Louis Vuitton jacket casually over one shoulder.

But you were just "the scholarship kid". A humble upbringing and a borderline genius IQ, attending this prep academy was an opportunity you and your family could never have turned down.

Working on labs with Ricky wasn't difficult-- mainly because he let you do all the work while he listened to music and played on his phone. But if you were being honest, you didn't really mind. You enjoyed working on the labs at your own (fast) pace and you didn't have to worry about a lab partner messing up your data.

You never disliked Ricky. But you also could never really figure out what to say to him when he talked so expensive and acted so expensive...

And looked so expensive.

But after a few weeks of silent lab work together (and a handful of flunked quizzes returned to Ricky's desk), the tall blonde suddenly turned to you with his latest graded test in hand.

"What did you get?" He asked, eyes peering over to try to get a glimpse at your paper.

"Oh, um..." You placed it flat on the table.

His eyes widened in surprise. "105? Again!?"

"What do you mean 'again'? How do you know that?" You questioned, looking back at him suspiciously.

He completely ignored your question. "There wasn't even a bonus question on this one! Where did the extra points come from?"

"The mini-essay I submitted last night on chemical kinetics."

He stared at you for a moment. "You're kind of weird, you know that?"

You nodded. "I guess you would think that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He questioned, dark eyebrows furrowing.

"Do you want me to help you or not? I would think calling me weird wouldn't really help persuade me," you quipped, snatching his test from his hand and reading the grade circled in red pen: 63.

"Hey! Don't--," he protested, trying to steal the paper back to no avail as you slid it into your bag and zipped it closed. "I didn't even ask you for help yet."

"You were obviously going to. You've barely said one word to me in four weeks, so. I'm pretty sure you weren't just making friendly conversation."

Ricky blinked back at you silently for a moment. "It's not like you've said anything to me either."

"I'll look over your test to see what you need to improve on. Do you have the rest of the quizzes from this month with you?" You asked quickly, standing up from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder as the bell rang.

"Uh, no I don't," he admitted, not making any move to get up now that class had ended.

"Okay, well--."

"But I'll bring them tonight. To the library," he interrupted.

You stood there silently, not really sure what to say.

"Be there at 9," he said definitively, a grin suddenly spreading across his face as he stood up, grabbed his bag, and started walking towards the door.

"You--... Do you think I don't have a life or something? I... What if I had plans!?"

"You did not have plans," he said with a laugh. Just before he walked out the door, he turned over his shoulder to add, "But now you do. With me."

~

It was like that, how you started tutoring Ricky late nights at the library. You met after 9 P.M. the days that you had class together, going over the material you'd covered that afternoon. He was a surprisingly passable student and you started to wonder if failing his classes was somehow intentional. He started offering to help you with lab work as the weeks went on, messing up detrimentally only a handful of times but you did appreciate his effort if nothing else.

Your tutoring was definitely helping; Ricky's quizzes came back now with passing grades that had even once reached the height of a 91. But what you didn't want Ricky to know was that he was helping you, too.

He had been right that day: you hadn't had any plans that night. And you rarely did. It was hard to fit in with the other students at your school when they had all led such different lives than you. You could have never guessed in a million years that Ricky would eventually become something like your friend.

Ricky made you laugh. He sharpened your pencils for you. He brought you snacks you liked. He'd let you borrow his Nintendo Switch for the day, as long as you promised to give it back to him in class. You hated to admit it, but a few weeks into your tutoring sessions and there was much less studying going on than was originally intended.

And another thing you hated (not really) to admit: you liked Ricky.

Sure, he could be a little overconfident. A little braggadocios. A little too reliant on his daddy's money.

But late at night in the library, you both grew tired together and the sleep deprivation gave way to a much more vulnerable Ricky. He'd tell you about his family, his childhood, his favorite things, his troubles, his dreams... and he'd listen carefully to you when you shared yours, too.

One time, after sharing a surprisingly upsetting childhood memory involving his father, you could see Ricky's eyes start to water. He tried to brush it off, adjusting his watch as the walls of the persona began to build back up in defense. But before you could stop yourself, your hand had reached across the table and landed on top of his.

He stared at it for awhile before looking up to meet your eyes. "Thanks," he said quietly, swallowing with uncertainty.

You removed your hand and placed it back in your lap. "Sorry," you replied awkwardly.

"No, no, you're cute," he said quickly, a hand flying to cover his mouth when he saw the expression on your face and realized what he had said. "I--I--... I meant 'cool'. Like... Like I meant to say 'you're cool', as in, like, 'don't worry about it'."

His babbling just made you smile. "Freudian slip?"

"Exactly," he agreed hastily. "Wait, no!"

"Too late, no take backs," you blurt, flipping your textbook to the next page to continue with your notes. Your heart absolutely raced inside your chest when you heard Ricky lightly breathe out a laugh before following your lead and resuming his note-taking.

~

Ricky certainly had a public image he wanted to portray, but whenever he gave you a glimpse underneath the facade... that was when you couldn't help but fall.

So when he asked you out for the first time, sun shining as you walked together from Chemistry to the student lounge on a Friday afternoon, your stomach absolutely flipped with excitement.

"I'm gonna take you to dinner," Ricky said, hand combing through his blonde, coiffed hair.

"Like--... Like on a date?" You clarified, looking up at him to try to read his expression. But much to your dismay, he was looking straight ahead, not at you.

"Yeah," he responded flippantly, hands finding his pockets. "There's this new place that opened downtown that's, like, mega exclusive. Figured you can't say no to that."

"No."

"Exactly... Wait, what?" Ricky stopped in his tracks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"No thanks," you repeated. Looking at him now, you could tell exactly who was standing in front of you. No matter how much you liked Ricky, you didn't want to go on a date with this persona of his.

You wanted to go on a date with Ricky.

"Oh..." He replied, shock written all over his face. He swallowed hard and you swore you could see his cheeks start to redden with embarrassment.

"I really like you, Ricky," you clarified with a smile as you watched his eyebrows shoot up at the confession. "But no thank you."

You didn't wait around to field any possible questions. Turning on your heels, you headed off in the direction of your dorm leaving Ricky absolutely dumbfounded in the campus courtyard.

The next time he asked you out, it was in the hallway before class the following Monday. He handed you a small, light blue gift box, his eyes looking everywhere except at you.

You suppressed a smile, opening the box to find a dainty, rose gold bangle with the signature Tiffany T-shaped cuff ends. After having a mini heart attack over how much the bracelet in your hands must've cost, you took a deep breath to maintain your composure.

"I can't accept this," you managed, though you had to admit you were a bit sad to refuse it (and to refuse him a second time).

Ricky stared back at you, absolutely astonished. "Why... Why not?"

"I really like you, Ricky," you confessed again. "But I'll have to say no thank you."

As your professor called for everyone to take their seats, you hurried inside the classroom and left Ricky to trail in behind you completely stunned once more.

~

Ricky has asked you out about eight more times since that day. Each time, the simple question is skirted around and instead replaced with more and more elaborate and expensive gestures.

Now, it's 9:30 on a Friday night and you're typing away on your laptop, working on a paper that isn't due until the end of the semester when Ricky bursts through the doors of the library and darts straight towards your usual table.

"Are you seeing someone else?" He blurts out, catching his breath as he stands in front of you waiting for an answer. His hair falls boyishly across his forehead and he's dressed in a a hoodie and black joggers. You get the impression he had rushed here suddenly without any preparation and he looks so stupid cute.

"No," you reply, chewing on your cheeks to keep from smiling.

"Are you interested in men?"

"Unfortunately."

"You keep saying you like me and then you refuse to go out with me. Do you like me?" He asks, a little too loud for a library, but you're both lucky there's no one else that would be studying on a Friday night.

"I do," you confirm, watching as his eyes grow a bit more pleading as he wrestles with his own confusion.

"Then... Please... Will you please go out with me? I like spending time with you so much. I like talking to you so much. I really, really like you, (Y/N). Will you please just give me a chance?"

"Of course," you answer immediately.

"Yeah, I get it, I get--." Ricky's eyes suddenly light up as he realizes what you said. "REALLY?"

You nod, biting your lip in a satisfied smile and throwing your laptop into your backpack. "Let's go right now!"

He blinks quickly, following you as you stand up and walk towards the door. "Right now? But you--."

"Ricky, I don't really have any time to waste. I've been waiting for you to ask me out for two weeks now! Can you blame me for being a bit eager?"

"What... what do you mean? I've asked you out, like, a dozen times," he says as you step outside into the cool evening air, grabbing your wrist to stop you in your tracks.

You smile up at him. "No, you haven't."

"Yes, I--," he starts to protest, but you cut him off.

"You've told me you're taking me to an exclusive restaurant. You've bought me designer jewelry. You've given me an autographed poster from WayV. You've hired the Vienna Philharmonic to play at the student lounge. You've landed a helicopter in the middle of the courtyard..."

You watch as realization begins to wash over his face. His mouth hangs open a bit as he processes his numerous missteps. Then, a hand finds its way to the back of his neck as he smiles at you sheepishly. "Oh."

"So I've been waiting very patiently, you see."

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," he says with a smile, and then more solemnly he adds, "And I'm really sorry for being a total dick."

"Well, you're in luck. The only way to make it up to me is to get late night pancakes with me. And it just so happens, that I am incredibly hungry right now," you say, taking his hand and starting to pull him in the direction of the parking lot.

Ricky laces your fingers together as he falls in step with you. "Oh! I know the best place for pancakes, it's--."

You clear your throat and he stops his thought in its tracks.

"The diner?" He asks, looking to you for approval.

You nod, giggling back at him. "The diner."

[draftsandrecs]

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Reader finds herself crushing on her sister’s ex boyfriend after they run in to each other years after the break up.

Word Count: 4,670

Warnings: 18+, smut, no condoms, dirty talk

Taglist: @jbbarnes-dog-tags

‘And substitute regular milk for oat milk please.’ 

You type a quick ‘okay’ to your sister as you head to the coffee shop that you frequent almost every day. Today’s weather is sort of gloomy but nice. Lately it’s been rainy, mild showers and light thunderstorms. Your favorite kind of weather to have a latte while accompanied with a book. You scrub the bottom of your shoes against the coffee’s welcome mat to prevent tracking in mud or leaves. 

“Good morning, welcome to Aristocrats!” You thank the familiar barista as you head to the counter pulling out your phone to order both drinks.

“What can I get you?” The barista asks with a smile on their face.

“Can I get a hot vanilla latte with 2 shots of espresso and oatmilk?” The employee mumbles the order back as they input it into the system as you continue.

“I also would like an iced chai latte with 3 pumps of brown sugar syrup instead of vanilla. As well as one shot of espresso, thank you.” You put your phone away as you get your wallet out from your bag.

“$15.28, cash or card?” The barista asks as you hand them your card to swipe.

You find a few dollar bills stashed in your bag as you drop it into the tip jar.

“Thank you, just give us a few minutes.” Handing you the card back you put it back into its usual spot as you crumble the receipt into the bag.

One of the reasons why you love this coffee shop isn’t just for the drinks but the book collection they have along with the scenery. It’s located downtown with windows that face the street that pour in natural light. The owner kept most of its natural architecture. Which included the layout, windows that surround the building on two walls, as well as the little fireplace that runs on cold days. 

As you wait for the drinks you browse a few magazines near a table before you find one that peaks your interest. You situate yourself near a bar in front of the front facing windows to take advantage of the light that projects in. You flip through the first couple pages not caring for the luxurious ads of Gucci or Louis Vuitton. You never understood why anyone would spend thousands on a bag. You ignore the bell above the door that signals a customer as you continue reading about a woman’s divorce and her advice. While you have never been married it’s interesting to read about people’s lives.

“Here you go, hot vanilla latte and an iced chai.” The barista sets the drinks down as you reply with a thank you. 

You look towards the counter as you spot a man ordering. Something along the lines of an americano. Typical. Men never go for good drinks. Reaching for your drink you realize you forgot a straw. Getting up you head to the side of the counter to grab one. As you begin to reach for one another, one hand is trying to grab a cocktail straw for their drink.You quickly retreat your hand back apologizing. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” You say, embarrassed as if you were in his space. 

“No troubles, you’re fine.” You turn to him finally getting a good look at him as he does the same.

“Oh shit, hey kid. How’ve you been?” It’s Bucky, your sister's ex-boyfriend. His eyes light up as he smiles at you. Like he’s excited to see you. 

“I’ve been good. I finished up my last semester early. In December I graduated well. I didn't walk but I received the diploma which is just as good.” He crosses his arms as he listens to you furrowing his eyebrows that he always used to when listening intently.

He smiles as he lightly pats your upper arm in congratulations, “Hey that's great, really, you find any jobs or anything yet?” 

“No, I mean I have but the pay is so shit that it’s not even worth it.” He nods understanding the job market has plummeted. 

“I get that, if I hadn’t secured the job I have now a few years ago I probably would be back in school not knowing what to do.” Bucky came from an affluent family. His family always had money due to businesses, properties, and of course trusts and estates. His comment comes off a little tone deaf but you know he means well just trying to relate.

“Thanks,” he says as he grabs the drink from the barista as he begins adding a little packet of heavy cream.

“You stay around here? Or often?” He questions out of curiosity but also a small part of him hopes you say yes.

“Oh yeah. I moved back in with my parents after college. I mean- I don’t have a job so I really had no choice.” You hope you don’t sound like a complete fool of yourself. No job, living with parents, and your daily activities consist of getting coffee and reading.

“You’re still figuring it out, there’s no time limit.” His words comfort you, making you feel less alone. Even if he can’t exactly relate, it’s still nice to have someone understand your struggles.

Bucky continues to ask, “If you got a few minutes, you mind if we sit and catch up?” You smile and nod, letting out a small yes as you lead him to your little nook.

You're laughing at some story he’s telling from a recent event he went to where a kid found drawing on the walls of an art exhibit. 

“Oh no, did the parents do anything?” You ask taking a sip of your mostly watered down chai.

“God no, remember these people think that their kids can do no wrong. Instead the dad threw him over his shoulder as they left quickly.” His answer made you shake your head wondering how parents never discipline their children.

“What have you been up to? Last thing I heard you were supposed to be taking over the family business.” The family business was just that- business. It was just managing properties, selling, and trading. But it brought in so much revenue. It’s the most popular realtor company in the state along with locations in neighboring states. It was started in the 40’s by Bucky’s great great grandfather and has now succeeded multiple generations.

“I have, well not entirely. I told my dad that I wanted to travel some first before settling with the job. Once you’re in that position all you can do is live for work, live to work. It just seems exhausting.” He sighs as he runs his hand through his short hair.

“You know I have a degree in Architecture, and I want to put that to use but my dad keeps pressuring me to take over the business. The money is good-

You cut him off,“But is it worth it? Money is great but if you aren’t happy with your job or what you do, no amount of money can compare to your happiness.” 

“Yes, exactly. I’ve been sort of going back and forth on it but maybe I just need to go with what I want rather than what someone else wants.” Saying the quiet part outloud made Bucky realize that he wants to do what makes him happy regardless of money or fortune.

“You know you’re pretty insightful for your age. I wish I was like that when I was in my early 20s. But you seem so grounded. That’s very admirable Y/N.” The compliment causes your heart to skip a beat. You usually don’t get too many compliments, especially not on your mental or emotional intelligence.

“Thank you, it’s probably the books and because I’m the youngest child.” Your sister and you have a 10 year age gap that didn’t really help form a sibling relationship until you entered high school.

You weren’t planned which resulted in a little bit (a lot) of negligence from your parents. They had albums of pictures of her, always went to her events, and constantly doted on her. You were the youngest and the last. You were often thought of last. If you wanted them to make it to your events, school lunches, or any activity they'd send your grandparents. Which you became very close with at a young age because they noticed the difference between you and your sister. They never made you feel like a burden or second thoughts. You’ll always be grateful for that. Your parents apologized to you when you were older but the childhood trauma still stuck. 

“I forgot you guys did have an age gap. I guess it’s more noticeable when you were younger.” His comment glides over, not caring to bring up your sister, his ex-girlfriend. Which you’re kind of happy about since he asked to catch up with you and he genuinely meant it. 

 Before he can get another word in your phone lights up, your sister is calling. 

“You need to get that?” Bucky asks, noticing the screen.

“Yeah probably.” You sigh internally knowing that the coffee catch up is ending soon.

You swipe on the screen as you hold up a finger to give you a second.

“Where are you? It’s been an hour, I thought you said you were just getting coffee, not running errands.” Her voice is a little upset and can be heard by Bucky which makes you cringe a little.

“I’m sorry, I ran into someone and wanted to catch up.” Yeah her ex who you seem to be getting along with a little too well.

“It’s fine. I just didn’t know where my coffee was. Or you.” The last part was thrown in quickly to save herself. You know she doesn’t mean to be rude but that’s just how she can be.

“I’ll be home soon, sorry for taking so long. I didn’t realize how long I was out.” You really didn’t mean to take so long but the conversation lasted longer than expected.

The phone beep indicates a hang up as her reply.

“I’m sorry, I guess I got to go. But it was really nice seeing you again.” You stand up to gather your belongings.

“I really enjoyed it. I had a nice time, I really needed it.” Bucky meant what he said. It had been a while since he had a genuine conversation that wasn’t about work or mundane questions.

“Maybe we can catch up again, I mean I obviously don’t work so I’m always free.” You're hopeful that he’ll agree instead of it just being a one time occurrence.

“You have my number still? Or can I get yours?” You shake your head not remembering if your phone transferred his contact from the last time you updated it.

 He grabs his phone to unlock it and lets you type in your number. Once you save your contact you head towards the door,“I got to run, but like I said just message me whenever you’re free. I can always make time.” I can always make time for you is what you wanted to say but bit your tongue instead. 

“For sure, I’ll text you soon.” He promises as he watches you walk out of the small coffee shop knowing he’s already forming a liking to you. 

It’s been a few months since you ran into Bucky at the coffee shop. Since that day you guys had been messaging non stop. Which quickly turned into late night phone calls that made your stomach hurt from laughing and cheeks sore from smiling. You only get together once a week since he’s still helping his dad and it took up most of his day. But he never fails to call or message you throughout the day to let you know what he’s up to. You’ve learned a lot from each other these past few months. He loves classic cars, museums, and fashion. He doesn’t care much for the bars but will go when his friends plan to. He designs a lot and is great at drawing too. He enjoys taking you out to museums, botanicals, and lately since the weather is better he’s taken you on hike trails. In return you’ve introduced him to books you enjoy and have started listening to audiobooks together. You’ve also found out how to make your own coffee. Bucky has an espresso machine in his condo that he never used. But together you guys figured out how to make your favorite drinks. Though you still go to the same coffee shop for convenience. It’s been a week since you’ve hung out and you expect a hangout session is due.

It’s morning when you get an unexpected call from Bucky. You answer without hesitation excited to hear his voice.

“Hey, what’s up?” You ask as you sit on your bed anticipating his message. 

“What are you doing?” He sounds like he has a smile on his face, which you picked up quickly through the phone calls how his voice and facial expressions match.

“Nothing, just at home.” You look over at the clock next to you flashing 9:52 a.m.

“Would you be opposed to packing a bag and going to the next state over?” At first you thought he was joking until he said “you there?”

“No, I mean yes that sounds fun.I’d love to tag along” You say quickly gathering yourself. 

“Perfect. I can be there in an hour. Just got to drop off a few things for my dad and I’ll be on the way. You won’t need much, just a few things to last a night or so. Oh and pack a nice dress, I want to take you on a date.” Your heart flutters at the word date, he hadn’t used that word yet, neither have you. It was sort of a weird territory but this solidified there is more. 

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then!” You hang up letting the phone fall on the bed as you rush to get ready and pack looking forward to the night. 

You arrived around a little after 3 in the next state. But since you couldn’t check in until 4 o’clock Bucky showed you a few places around the city. You ventured into antique shops, locally owned book shops, and of course you had to try a coffee shop. He offered to buy you whatever you wanted and insisted that you had to pick out at least one thing that he could buy you or else you couldn’t leave the store. You opted for a few books (it was five in total of hardcover books you could never find near you and were too expensive to order online). He seemed pleased to be funding your reading addiction. 

You check your phone’s time making sure you’re not late getting ready. Bucky said to be ready by 6:45 and you’re cutting it close at 6:30 trying to finish a few makeup touch ups.  And you haven’t even gotten dressed yet. Bucky left the room an hour ago so you could get ready in private. He didn’t want to intrude on your space saying that ‘I know how women are. My mom always enjoyed getting ready alone because she didn’t want to feel rushed.’ He was right, if he was in the same room you’d feel like you would have to get ready quickly. 

You curse trying to get your heels ons as you lace up the second heel trying to secure it as much as possible so you wouldn’t fall. As you’re finishing up and repacking your makeup to clean up the area the door clicks open as Bucky walks in. You turn to him hoping he likes it. It’s nothing extravagant to you compared to their style. It’s a black strapless elongated dress tailored to your height. A narrow slit starts from the upper thigh opening towards the bottom. 

“Wow, you look incredible. I mean not that you don’t always look good but today, tonight you just look exceptional.” You try not to smile at his words but fail. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him flustered. 

“Thank you, is this too much? It’s my old winter formal dress but I didn’t have time to get a new one.” You hope your attire suits the restaurant dress code. The last thing you want to do is embarrass yourself in front of him.

“No, you look perfect. It’s perfect.” He’s matching with black slacks, sweater, and a long peabody coat. 

“I can say the same for you, I like the monochromatic look. It suits you.” Your comment makes him smile as it means a lot coming from you. 

“I wanted to look my best for you.” He checks his watch, noticing the time,”we should probably head down. The valet is waiting for us.” He holds out his hand as you accept it.

The waiter sat you at a booth per Bucky’s request. You’re glad to sit to relieve pressure off your feet. You only walked a little but the heels are skinny and feel like they’re stabbing your feet. Bucky orders drinks for you as you look at the menu. It’s limited but that’s how most fine dining restaurants operate.

“I want you to get whatever you want. My treat.” You don’t say thank you this time. “Don’t worry, I will.” Your reply comes out teasingly creates a smirk on his face knowing that you’re comfortable around him and letting him treat you accordingly.. 

The finished entrees have been pushed to the side leaving waiting to be picked up as you listen to him talk about this week's work load. Your phone interrupts him mid sentence as a message comes through from your sister. He doesn’t mean to pry, it was in the middle of the table after all.

“Do you need to get that?” He asks politely knowing that he’d give you all the time you needed.

You check it before answering him.

‘Hey, just checking on you, hope you’re doing okay. It feels like we haven’t talked in a little bit.’ For a second you feel bad. But you also know she only comes around when you don’t make plans or reach out first. You are always chasing and you hate forcing things, especially familial ties. It’s also not just that, that makes you feel bad. You’re sitting across from her ex-boyfriend who she dated for 4 years who she thought she was going to marry. Given it’s been two years since they’ve broken up. Now you’re sitting here wondering if you should leave for her sake or stay for what your heart wants. 

“No it’s fine, just something with my sister.” He must’ve noticed your demeanor change as he grabs your hand from the table. He rubs his thumb across your hand soothing you. 

“I get it, this situation isn’t ideal nor normal in a sense. It’s confusing, conflicting. Like you're questioning yourself what's right and wrong or too far. If you want me to take you home tonight and never speak again I understand. But I will say regardless of what happens after tonight. It’s up to you. It’s your feelings I respect ultimately. But I want you to know, I’d regret it if I don’t at least try. Because even though it’s only been a few months since we reconciled, I finally got to know someone that I have never met. Emotionally and mentally you captivate me in a way no one else has. Someone that actually listens to me, understands me, and wants me for me, not for what I have. I would be a fool not to chase someone like that regardless of who they're tied to.” He takes a small breath before finishing, “I don’t want to imagine a life without you. If it’s not you then I don’t want anyone. Above all I don’t want to walk away from tonight without telling you how I feel. What I feel is you, you make up my thoughts, I see you in my future.  I’d do anything to prove that love I have for you. Even if it means allowing you to walk away tonight. Because you’re the most important thing to happen to me in a long time. The last thing I’d want to do is hurt you or make you choose something you aren’t ready for. I’m here for you even if you walk away, I’ll always come to you if you need me.” 

His eyes are a little teary as he cups your hand with both of his hands and kisses it. 

“You don’t have to make up your mind right n-” He’s cut off by you.

You interrupt him as you lean closer to the table with a shaky breath.“I don’t want to live a life I regret. Especially regretting someone that I could have a life with but chose not to out of fear or for someone else's feelings. I don’t know where life is supposed to lead me but I know I want it with you. Most people follow through with decisions based on what’s most logical but I choose my heart. And my heart wants you.”  

He leans over the table as you meet him halfway to kiss him. Letting his lips envelope yours, soft and plump like you imagined. It’s sweet and gentle like him. You pull away from the short kiss wishing it lasted longer but you’re also in public. 

“So you for sure don’t want to go home?” He asks one more time knowing your answer.

“Not unless it’s with you.” 

No words are exchanged as you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, one of your legs is on his shoulder as he takes off your shoe. As he unties the last heel he kisses from your ankle to your thigh. Moving upwards to the wetness between your thighs. You lay back on the bed allowing for more access. He kneels on the floor, grabbing your ass and pulling it closer to him for better positioning. Your dress is pushed up, bunched around your waist as he pulls your panties off. He throws them to the side discarding them. You feel his breath on your pussy for a second before he kisses it. He gives the mound and lips little kisses teasing you as you wait for him to give you more. Shivers run down your spine as you feel his tongue on your slit. He flattens it to cover the whole area, licking a few times. Savoring the taste of you. He takes your swollen clit into his mouth to gently suck on. You can feel your clit pulsate as his tongue teases the little nub. Flicking it  and rubbing it in a circle with his tongue. Causing your hands to find his hair as you grip it and grind against his face. His hand reaches between your thighs as he rubs the soft skin gently before he runs two fingers over your wet pussy. A moan escapes your mouth as you feel his hand on your wet cunt. Once his fingers are wet, he uses one finger to open you up. Allowing you to get used to the feeling before he adds another. Another finger joins the first stretching you. It gives you some relief as you rock yourself on his fingers a little as he begins to lap at your clit. Tonguing the nerve as he finger fucks your small hole.

“Your fingers feel so good.” You moan gripping his hair.

He removes his face from your pussy, “you taste amazing. Just as I thought” He gets back to his feet to lean over you as he begins to furiously fuck you on his fingers. You’re cursing at him as he continues, loving the sounds you’re making and faces you make when you’re being pleasured. You place your fingers on your clit as you feel yourself getting close. Rubbing circles and other motions to aid in relief. You’re begging him at this point whimpering knowing how close you are. He adds one more finger stretching you beyond belief knowing that you can take it

“You’re taking my fingers so well I can’t imagine how good it’ll feel on my dick.” . He says as he guides you while you’re cumming. Letting you know how good you are and how pretty you are. 

He waits a few more seconds before he pulls out his fingers leaving you empty. He gets off the bed to take off the rest of his clothes, swiftly undoing his buckle and pants to reveal a very prominent hard-on. You move closer to the headboard to get more comfortable as you wait for his return.

“I don’t have a condom. I wasn’t planning on having sex.” He’s on the bed again rubbing his cock trying to relieve the pressure.

“I don’t care, I just want you inside me.” Your voice is needy as he grins before he’s quickly in between your legs again. 

He rubs his cock up and down your slit. Letting the juices coat the tip. He teases the clit for a second until you whine wanting him inside you. He lines his cock up at your entrance with one hand letting the tip slowly enter. He looks at you, watching your face to make sure he’s not hurting you. You gasp as he slides in, his length completely filling you up.

“You doing okay?” You nod as he waits for a second before moving.

His thrusts are gentle to not hurt your cervix. He knows his size is above average and easy to bruise if too rough. He leans down to kiss you, one hand on your hip, the other on your face. His kiss is hungry and rough compared to his thrusts. 

“I’ve been waiting for this. Dreaming about this.” He says moaning into your mouth.

“I know, I’ve cum to you so many times.” You confess.

“I can’t count the times you’ve made me hard by just being next to you.” His pace quickens up which makes you grip his biceps.

“Fuck.” You draw out the word as he continues pounding.

He grabs your legs, bending your knees to your chest. This position leaves you completely folded, breathless, with how deep he is. 

‘Fuck you’re so big Bucky.” You say throwing your head back.

“Maybe your cunt is just too tiny then. Maybe I just need to keep stretching you out then so you don’t forget who you belong to.” He leans his head down to watch his cock retreat in and out of your hole. Mesmerized by the wetness glistening on his cock. 

He bites his lip as he slowly pulls out almost all the way, just to thrust back in. He loves watching your face as he’s inside you. Your little sounds and whimpers almost send him over the edge entirely with how sweet you are. You move your hips against his cock, meeting his thrusts. You’re so wet you can’t even tell if you’ve already cum or not. Sweat is building up on his forehead as you watch him pound into you. You know he’s close by the erratic thrusts.

“Where can I cum?” He asks, needing an answer quickly or else he’s about to make you a milf.

“Inside me. I’m on birth control.” He moans leaning down to kiss you as his thrusts speed up and his body shakes. Your walls grip him tightly as he spills his seed inside of you. Filling your cunt until it’s dripping.

Once he’s finished he gets a warm rag to clean you up. Letting the warmness soothe your now aching core.

“I love you” Bucky says as he doesn’t care to look for a ‘right time’ anymore.

“I love you too.” You really do.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

pictures of you, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader; mentions of jungkook x reader

summary: You like taking photos of your boyfriend, Min Yoongi. Just for you. Although you've tried, and will continue to try, to convince Yoongi to to make porn. Why? Because he's sexy, that's why.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship (yg/you); mentions of sex work - yes, technically Yoongi has been in the photos with his face hidden but we'd like to see more; light smut (fem reader, intense making out, fingering, heavy petting, slight D/s themes); fluff tbh; non-idol!AU - (secret) sex worker!reader x music producer!Yoongi, mentions of video editor / photographer!Jungkook

part of _thehornedsin au, but can be read alone

-

“What are you doing?”

“I just want to take pictures of you.”

“Usually, people don’t wear Louis Vuittons and a gown to take photos of other people.”

You carefully placed one of said black heels on his chest and brought the camera to your eye, feeling and seeing a pair of hands reach up to encircle your ankle. Deft fingers fanning out to crown your step with his touch. Through the lens, you could see the open black dress shirt. Prominent collarbones, silver necklace tangled around that slim neck. Gleaming porcelain skin and parted lips. Hazy, half-lidded, dark brown eyes under smoked liner.

Min Yoongi’s long hair was messy, black, and sprawled out over the white backdrop.

You took a photo.

The side of his pink lips quirked upwards.

You make the move to remove your foot but Yoongi spread his hands over the patent leather, gripping tightly. You had only put a little pressure on the ball of your foot, but most of your weight was on your other leg standing beside his body.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, lowering the camera.

He matched your nonchalant, almost-bored expression with his own eyebrow tick.

Neither of you said anything.

You pressed the sharp heel into his skin just a little. Giving him the hint. The half-smile grew wider. A sensual sigh leaving those sinful lips. You felt him shift, his back arching a little, and the tip of the stiletto dug in deeper, indenting inward right below his ribs.

You raised the camera again and took another photo.

Looked down at it, admiring your boyfriend in the preview screen. One of his hands was further up your calf, the other along your heel, as if he was making the photographer step on him. Black satin from the sides of your gown draped along the edges of the shot, casting shadows along the bottom half. The silk dress shirt had fallen more open, pooling by his sides. Black strands draped over his forehead, highlighting his closed eyes and the masochistic gratification gently spread over his features.

You felt your inhale still in your throat.

“Yoongi, I think you should make porn.”

He smirked below you.

“No.”

You sighed in faux disappointment. After all, you got to keep the photos.

“Let me take a photo of you.”

You chuckled, removing your leg from his grasp. With force. “I haven’t put on any makeup.”

“You never need it.”

“You do with these lights. They wash you out.”

“Get down here.”

It was not that easy of a feat. Vuitton didn’t make shoes meant for immediate on-the-knees activities. The corseted, black satin gown was also a slight pain-in-the-ass, not to mention the heavy camera in your hands that wasn’t yours. Now that he was your photographer, Jeon Jungkook left a set of his work things in your home studio. Made life easier for him.

Sometimes, you borrowed it to photograph your boyfriend, Min Yoongi.

“This is better.”

Thanks to the high silt in the gown, Yoongi’s hands were on your ass and squeezing hard, long fingers digging into the softness as he bunched fabric up to your waist. Your knees on the ground. For someone who wished that he was horizontal for more than half of his life, Min Yoongi sure knew how to sit up quickly. He was pulling you to him and you were resisting, tilting the lens of the camera so the plastic hit his bare chest, keeping a measured distance between yourself and those playful dark eyes.

“At least let me put this down.”

His finger was toying with the side of your panties, slipping under and following the curve. He ticked his head. “Put it down then,” he echoed. Drew out the syllables in his deep, raspy voice.

You put down the camera beside you and him.

Careful with it.

It was a precious treasure, even more so considering the contents.

Yoongi shoved a finger into your pussy and placed his palm behind your head, pulling you into a kiss.

You wondered why he always said no. Other than being a famous music producer and all. Well, you knew that was the major reason that Yoongi would never join you in your erotic photography, but there was a difference between a I-would-but-I-can’t no and the no he gave you. The refusal Yoongi gave you was an anxious one and you wondered why that was because he was so, so sexual. On every level. From the way his long hair brushed against your cheeks, to the way he held your head, crowning his fingers around the base of your skull, to the slow slide of his finger in and out of you despite the layers of clothes, none of these obstacles bothering him, none of them obscuring the lust in every kiss, lips to lips, and you wondered why Yoongi thought he shouldn’t make porn.

Warm and wet dripping down.

He sighed into your mouth and slid in another finger, moaning into your throat.

Your fingers followed his cheekbone, his jaw, his soft skin under the pads of your touch, and you kissed him again, again, remembering that he didn’t like kissing when you first met him. He liked to fuck, of course, but he didn’t seek to kiss. Not because he didn’t want to kiss you, you learned, but because he did, and that was frightening to him, being addicted to a kiss.

All because it was from you.

“There is no one more beautiful,” Yoongi whispered, rough and breathless.

You ran your fingers through his soft locks with a contented sigh.

“I’m looking at him,” you murmured back.

His eyes darted away. A soft smile found its way to your lips. He was fully ruining your panties by shoving them to the side and firmly stuffing his fingers in all the way to his knuckles, repeatedly, sucking in a breath as he felt your pussy squeeze them, pulsing. You were more in his lap now, his erection against your thigh fighting for dear life in those loose black pants, but it was clear that he wanted this instead, your arms on his shoulders and his face in your hands, cradling the sides of his head with your fingers fanned out.

Like a blooming lotus flower.

Yoongi looked up at you again, pink lips parted.

You closed the distance, your hair falling over your shoulder, rolling your hips into his hand as you kissed him again.

I’m better with you.

I make porn. I’m not a good person by society’s standards.

Doesn’t matter, because I know that I am better with you.

Yoongi often told you his music was better now that you were his. It was experience too, but you understood what he meant, because your erotica was better ever since he became yours too. He wasn’t in the photos, but he was. In the way you posed, knowing all the angles he liked. In your selection of lingerie, keeping in mind the parts of your body he enjoyed most – all, duh – and in every photographed expression, sensual, seductive, unafraid. It didn’t matter if you were always blindfolded.

Your lips could tell a story.

He hit that depth and speed you liked.

You smiled against his lips, tangling your fingers in his hair.

Dark brown orbs watching you under lashes and you could feel the fierce love in them, unrelenting and unwavering, almost childish in stubbornness, and so what was there to fear when you had something so raw and so powerful standing beside you?

He made you even more confident in your sexual nature.

You licked his lower lip playfully.

Yoongi caught your tongue with his teeth and sucked on it, devious glint in the narrowing of his eyes.

Shallow breath, rising heat, push and pull, riding his hand as he fingered you, closer, closer, almost there and he shoved another finger in, making you gasp and cutting off the rise, the slight despair adding to the pleasure. The sound. Wet and lewd and hunger. Hard and fast and deep, so deliberate it was maddening. Shared gaze so intense it made your core clench and your pussy shiver. Soaked inner thighs, sweet heady scent of sex, so strong you could taste it even as Yoongi sucked on your tongue, still holding your head to him, your entire body shuddering.

He let go.

A hot exhale escaping from your lips, washing over his open mouth.

Stinging bliss, all over and pooling at the base of your hips, spilling, spilling in vicious throbs within your inner walls, clamping down on his long fingers buried deep inside, and your head tipped back, palms molded to his head, your taut fingers laced with black strands spread out, mirroring the shadow of a blooming lotus flower.

Yoongi smiled as he watched the lustful pleasure ripple over your face.

“I look ten times more stupid orgasming than you do,” he hummed.

You laughed, shaking your head, slowly rocking your hips to extend the feeling. “You do tend to bark out ‘fuck’ a lot more. It’s charming.”

“Mmm.” He slid his fingers out of you and raised his hand. Separated them, admiring the way your viscous juices clung and collected around his knuckles. “I think Jungkook could do porn.”

You calmly smiled as Yoongi licked his hand clean right in front of your face. “I doubt it. He’s impatient and needy.”

He cocked a shoulder. “He needs training.” Pink tongue curling around his knuckles.

“And the tattoos?”

Yoongi shrugged again. “Put a sleeve on that arm, tie him up, blindfold. No one’s gonna know.”

“He likes saying my name during sex a little too much,” you pointed out as Yoongi lowered his hand, then paused, seeing your fingertips resting on his bare chest. He reached over and wrapped his wet fingers around your hand, bringing it lower.

“Like I said, he needs training.”

“Your friend is naughty and unruly.”

Yoongi molded your palm to his covered, twitching erection, locking eyes with you. You were about to look down but his other hand came up and his knuckles rested on your chin, keeping you facing him as he rubbed your hand over his hard cock through his pants.

“I know, but he’s cute when he begs.”

You tightened your grip, pressing your entire hand against his length. His cock jerked in his pants, begging for more. His hand was still damp, but there was dampness under his pants too. Pre-cum soaking his boxer briefs. Yoongi was using that raspy Daegu satoori with you now. Hm. Sly. Knew exactly what he was doing. He was still massaging himself with your hand, undeterred by your interference.

Maybe even welcomed it.

“And you?” you breathed out in a smoky, dangerous whisper.

The side of his lips curved upwards.

The most devious smirk.

“Fuck me,” Yoongi whispered.

Soft and slow. Hot exhale, savoring the words, drawing it out. Dark eyes barely visible under lowered lashes and with a tone an octave away from desperate. Gripping your hand around his length, letting your feel the hardness and the pulsating twitch of dirty desire. And then he did the unthinkable.

He bit the right side of his lower lip and said it better.

“Fuck me, please.”

-

in case you want the visual

(this photo poster was sent in emails for winners of the Seoul tix raffle and, yes, I saw it and my imagination went places, what, he didn't do bite his lip to be innocent)

--

masterpost

[mrs-johansson]

Escape from LA - Lisa Manobal x Fem!Depp!Reader

Part 6:

I sat the boxes of food on the counter, starting to unpack our meals. The sudden hot breeze on my neck made me take a deep breath while a smile just uncontrollably spread across my face. “Lili you really need to eat,” I tried but her arms snuck around my waist before I felt her lips on my neck. “Oh, I really do…” She gently bit my lips after she husked those words in my ear. I turned around in her arms and tried to get her to focus. “You’re so impatient,” I laughed as Lisa showed no intention of stopping. Teeth scraping over the column of my throat. She hummed in response, the vibrations tickling my neck and making a shiver travel down my spine. “Come on, food can wait,” Lisa pulled her head back and looked me in the eyes. The way her head was tilted and how her eyes just reflected playfulness was driving me crazy. How her lips pulled into a smirk and her neck was so defined. She looked perfect. Wrapped my arms around her neck, pulling her closer. I bumped my nose to hers and a smile appeared on her face straight away. “I missed you,” I whispered like I was afraid someone would hear it, even though there was no one around.

Lisa’s hands locked behind my lower back, and her eyes smiled like I’d never seen before. “I missed you too. And you know it’s your birthday… we should celebrate,” she looked at me with that suggestive look and I had to smile. “It’s your big day, I have a birthday every year, it doesn’t matter,” I said and Lisa rolled her eyes. “There’s no fun in that. By the way, I haven’t even given you your gift,” said Lisa, and my eyebrows shot up. “You got me something?” “Of course, I did.” “Now I just feel bad because I’ve only given you flowers,” my shoulders dropped and I was actually a bit frustrated that I didn’t get her anything other than flowers. “They were the most beautiful flowers,” she pecked my lips before she pulled back her hands, letting her left one slide over my stomach as she went to her bag. She was searching for something enthusiastically before she pulled out a smaller bag that I knew well. “You can’t be serious… Louis Vuitton?” Now she’s just trying to embarrass me. “It’s just a little something,” she shrugged like it was nothing. Lisa handed over the bright orange bag and pushed her thumb through the loop of the side of my jeans, her palm resting against my hip. “Happy Birthday,” her soft voice and gentle smile made my heart skip a beat.

I looked inside the bag to see a longish box. Took it out and put the bag behind me on the counter. The box laid in my hands, before I lifted the top off to reveal a beautiful necklace. A tag-shaped yellow gold medal, with navy blue in the middle and the iconic Louis Vuitton patterns engraved in the middle. Subtle and elegant.

I wrapped my arm around her waist and brought her closer, leaving a kiss on her soft cheek. “Thank you, it’s wonderful.” “It’s not much but-“ “No, it’s everything. Thank you for thinking of me. I’m pretty sure it’s the best gift I’ll get this year,” she had a shy smile on but then playfully rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure,” she scoffed. I pressed gently on the low of her back, making her look at me. “I’m genuinely saying it,” I started. “I love it, in fact, I want you to help me put it on,” I carefully took the necklace out of the box and handed it to Lisa before turning around, and lifting my hair.

Lisa unclipped the necklace and lifted it around my neck then clipped it. Her hands gently lowered onto my skin and turned me back to face her. My hands let my hair fall on my shoulders, and I leaned back to the counter.

She was staring at me with her pretty eyes, making me feel all kinds of things. I think she knew exactly the effect she had on me by the little smirk on her full lips. I could feel my fingers burn on the skin of her waist. My heart was pounding faster by the second. The way she was looking at me didn’t leave one clear thought in my mind. “How long till the girls are back?” I asked, getting more impatient as the time passed, even though I tried to resist the urge to do more than just kiss. But man, I was failing.

“Long enough…” She said, and damn I needed no more than that. I took my hand and placed it under her chin, bringing her closer. I leaned in, our lips almost touching but I tilted my head just in time to see Lisa chase after the kiss. A smirk pulled on my lips, then she groaned and her hands were on my cheeks the next second, pulling me into a deep kiss. The sound she made, squeezed out a moan from me, my hand gripping her hip, the other sliding up her side. The kisses grew hungrier by the second, then her hands left my face grabbing me by the waist and pushing me to sit on the nearest couch. A huff left my chest as she pushed me down, just before she straddled my lap.

Lisa grasped my neck and swiftly brought her lips to mine. I groaned as I felt her starting to grind her hips against mine. My hands gripped her thighs, as her lips trailed down my neck, biting and licking the skin. Held back moans were escaping from my throat almost every minute as I felt her teeth nip on my neck, definitely leaving a bruise or two.

Her hands fell from my shoulders to the hem of my shirt, fidgeting for just a few moments before I grabbed her wrists pinning them behind her back. I felt her breath hitch at the action, making me even more aroused.

I pulled Lisa’s head back with my other hand, revealing her neck. Instantly, brought my lips to her exposed jaw, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat and back up, paying attention not to leave any marks behind.

Shaky sighs left her mouth, already getting addicted to the sound of it. Temporarily released my grip on her hair to lift the cropped top off her, letting it fall from my hands to the floor.

Ran my fingers down her exposed chest, reaching her bra and unclipping it, making it fall off her chest. I leaned into her chest, taking one of her nipples into my mouth. I alternated between them. Lisa bucked her hips needily, whimpering when she didn't get the contact she needed. “Stop with the teasing,” her voice became raspy and her accent was even stronger than it usually is, making my head spin.

Kissed, bit, and sucked up and down her chest, finding it harder to hold her wrist together with one hand, while we were both moving, so I had to let go of them. Lisa’s hands were immediately on my face, pulling my face upwards for a wet kiss. My hands-free by then, I unbuttoned her trousers, gripping and kneading her thighs then slipping my palms to her butt, squeezing just enough to earn a moan from Lisa, her mouth falling away from mine.

I brought my dominant hand to her front, pulling the front of her pants out of the way before sliding my hand in. Lisa drew a sharp breath once I touched her, grabbing onto her center lightly, her hands gripping my shoulders. “You have to be quiet,” I murmured against the skin of her collarbone, kissing her skin softly. “Fine, just do something already,” she whined, my eyes rolling just by how she said those words while grinding on my hand. I could feel the heat that gathered there, even through her underwear. She moaned, pressing herself against my hand.

Pulled her panties to the side, pushed her lips open, and slipped two of my fingers in, making her shudder and cry in response. She whined, slightly grinding on my finger slowly, her hips rolling. Without warning or saying anything, my two fingers moved in and out of Lisa, prompting a little scream from the woman. I brought my other hand to the back of her neck, pulling her lips on mine, trying to muffle her screams even though I didn’t want anything more than to hear her.

Her head falls back, eyes shot close when my thumb presses against her clit. As I sat there, looking right up at her, I felt like I was high, like I was in a haze. My mind felt dizzy, tingling shooting down my spine. “You’re so pretty for me,” I couldn’t help but say, her divine neck, her sharp jawline, a sight that surely I’ll never forget.

My thumb remained on her clit, pushing more firmly. This time she moaned out loud, and her legs trembled. Chest rising and falling so forcefully that her breasts practically bounced. Her legs totally gave out, losing their strong grip on the side of my thighs, and I could see she was only minutes from coming undone.

“Oh my god…” Lisa’s shaky moans filled the trailer again and again, as her inner muscles tightened around my fingers almost excruciatingly tightly. Her body trembles from head to toe, her body almost falling as her muscles fail and she is unable to hold herself up. My hand from her face immediately moves to her back, hoping to support her weight, bringing her to my front, keeping her close.

Continuously move my fingers and circle her clitoris while she grips me tighter and tighter, whimpers following her convulsions. “Come on, baby,” I kissed the side of her neck gently. “Fuck…” Lisa pushed her head against mine, making me hear her moan out her climax clearly. I slowly started to ease out my fingers, trying to be as gentle as possible, leaving small kisses on her shoulder, neck, and chest.

She bucks a bit, her sweaty face leaning against my head and her hands barely holding onto my shoulder and the back of my neck. She was gasping for air, eyes shut closed. I pulled my hands out of her trousers now completely, and then her eyes opened. She looked at me through hooded eyes, a dazed look on her face.

I lifted my fingers to my lips, maintaining eye contact as I put them in my mouth, sucking them clean.

Lisa’s eyes rolled back, completely sitting in my lap again. “Everything about you is just… so fucking addictive.”