#i have never read lawrence

[cantsayidont]

Hateration holleration, oddball selections:

MOTHERS' INSTINCT (2024): Peculiar drama-cum-thriller, set in 1960, starring Jessica Chastain and Anne Hathaway as suburban neighbors Alice and Celine, whose friendship is disrupted when Celine's young son Max (Baylen D. Bielitz) is killed in an accident. Afterward, Celine becomes unusually attached to Alice's son Theo (Eamon O'Connell), who was Max's best friend, which begins to make Alice very nervous. Does Celine mean Theo harm, or is Alice's guilt (she was watching Max at the time of his accident) making her paranoid? The way the plot plays out offers little tension and few surprises — it feels a little twist-deficient as a thriller, attempting to compensate with a surprisingly dark finale — and it doesn't offer a lot of motive for the eventual drastic escalations beyond "sometimes motherhood makes women crazy." Also, while one can see why Chastain and Hathaway were interested in these parts as actors, they both seem a little too old for their characters, and Anders Anielsen Lie and Josh Charles are both wasted as their respective husbands. CONTAINS LESBIANS? Early on, it seems like there's something between Alice and Celine, but the movie isn't interested in exploring or even acknowledging that. VERDICT: Grim and gloomy, but never very exciting, and it keeps flirting with the idea of making some kind of point about the sexual politics of its time that never gels.

THE POKER HOUSE (2008): Lori Petty made her directorial debut with this semi-autobiographical drama, scripted by David Alan Grier from Petty's story about an eventful and upsetting day in the life of a 14-year-old girl named Agnes (Jennifer Lawrence), growing up dirt poor in a rough, mostly Black neighborhood, where her mother Sarah (Selma Blair) turns tricks when her boyfriend/pimp Duval (Bokeem Woodbine) isn't running illegal poker games, leaving Agnes in loco parentis for her younger sisters (Chloë Grace Moretz and Sophi Bairley), who hang out at the local bar while Agnes is at school. The story takes some dark turns — it centers on Agnes being sexually assaulted by Duval — but because it's based on Petty's own life, it's never indulgently sordid, and, with the notable exception of Sarah, it has a lot of compassion for the people in Agnes' neighborhood, who are doing the best they can with almost nothing to work with. As a result, the film is heartfelt if not particularly polished. (Curiously, it was produced by prolific TV writer-producer Stephen J. Cannell, best known for detective and action shows including THE ROCKFORD FILES, THE A-TEAM, HUNTER, and SILK STALKINGS, with a score by TV perennial Mike Post.) CONTAINS LESBIANS? Nope. VERDICT: If you like Lori Petty and can handle the subject matter (CWs apply for sexual violence), it's worth a look.

THE RAINBOW (1989): Earnest but somewhat awkward Ken Russell dramatization of the last section of the 1915 D.H. Lawrence novel, set around the end of the 19th century, about a young woman from Derbyshire, Ursula Brangwen (Sammi Davis), who has affairs with both her swimming instructor Winifred (Amanda Donohue) and a young soldier named Anton (Paul McGann), while striving for financial, intellectual, and romantic freedom that her era doesn't offer or encourage, especially for women. It's sort of a prequel to Russell's 1969 adaptation of Lawrence's WOMEN IN LOVE, which follows Ursula and her sister Gudrun 20 years later. I have not read either novel, so I can't say how Russell's versions compare, but taken strictly on its own terms, THE RAINBOW feels like something director Stephanie Rothman might have made for Roger Corman in the '70s, with dollops of Second Wave feminist idealism in what often plays like an exploitation movie. The uneasiness of that mixture leaves no space to interrogate some troubling aspects of the plot, like Ursula's racist ideas about moving to India with Anton, or her violent outburst at a student in the school where she becomes a teacher. CONTAINS LESBIANS? Ursula is bisexual, and part of the plot deals with her relationship with Winifred. VERDICT: At the risk of undermining my literary bona fides, I thought it worked far better as an exploitation movie than a feminist drama.

[emily-mooon]

Scott Pilgrim Characters as Text Posts but they’re mostly of Stacey and Neil cause I’m obsessed with them :]

[tigertime22]

Ok I'm only as far as Saw 4 but my assumption of chainshipping vs coffinshipping so far is this: Chainshipping is good for any fanfiction, hurt comfort? Oh absolutely. Kinky sex with or without plot? Fantastic. Domestic roomate situation in which they heal slowly together? Chefs kiss. But Coffinshipping was made to fuck nasty and kill each other, I can not imagine them in any situation other than a horny one where at least one of them ends up injured and most likely bleeding.

[cobra-wives]

serious philosophical question; should one of us kick the bucket?

small comic page thingy for the INSANE fic that is zelotypia by @terrence-silver - i definitely recommend giving it a read! so much interesting perspective on that ponytail-kreese-twig trio goodness; and terry’s inner workings and detestment for everyone that john loves more than him!

[thefallenangelsgang]

Hopefully not going to get crucified for this:

The TBoSaS movie's cinematography is infinitely worse than the first Hunger Games movie

I'll take shaky-cam over whatever the fuck was happening during TBoSaS

[sokkigarden]

i was never a huge fan of j-law as katniss bc i always felt she was very emotionless but upon reading the books like. she kinda nails katniss. katniss is a messy young girl who doesn't even know fully who she is or what she wants to achieve and is thrust into killing games and a war and unintentionally becomes the face of the rebellion.

upon rewatching, one of my fav things i LOVE is how katniss says thank you to others who help her. when peeta gives her the pearl. when johanna helps her out. even to effie. she says thank you with such conviction, like it means so much to her because it DOES. this is a girl who has starved and worked so hard to stay alive and for a while she did it alone. but saying thank you and accepting that help is so impactful to see transformed on screen.

[inkdemonapologist]

I have this theory and I made a post about it but I love your Sammy stuff and consider you like a premiere expert so I'm genuinely curious.

Canonical after re-reading the books (and are they canon anymore LoL but). Did canon!Joey *know* Sammy was tripping the light fantastic on ink?

Like the passage where he tells buddy 'why please a man when you can please a god' seems to imply wet cat prophet man is pissed about Joey and feels let down -

And then *later* Joey's like 'Sammy lured them all down here...but I couldn't use them' and I'm like ho-shit did bro become the guy's Walter white

Also hi your art is amazing and if you have original work I would read instantly.

LMAO GOSH, thank you for the kind words!!! also golly gee THIS LINE FROM JOEY DRIVES ME NUTS because JOEY COME ON MAN TELL ME MORE!!!!

There’s several little things in the background that implies SOMETHING between these two but we don’t get to see it! Thomas surely reported Sammy’s weird behaviour to Joey like he said he would (Sammy did not make a compelling case for himself in their argument), but the ink doesn’t disappear from Sammy’s closet until weeks later, so did Joey like… know about it and his only response was “huh interesting, let’s see where he goes with this!” or did he just blow off Thomas’ warnings as unimportant b/c Sammy is his special perfect genius who can do whatever he wants, or what!!! Also the thing where Joey is the one who’s furiously interrogating everyone about Sammy’s whereabouts when he goes missing, before anyone else had even noticed he was gone, and Buddy thinks Joey’s emotion seems stronger than the situation warrants – so how intense was Joey being, for his upset at being unable to find the guy who writes ALL THE MUSIC to seem like an overreaction?

ANYWAY,

I don’t understand breaking bad references, but my interpretation tends to be that by the end of DCTL Sammy had snapped enough that Joey had no real power over him, and this is part of why Joey was so angry at Sammy’s disappearance – for once, Joey didn’t have control over him and didn’t know how to take control. I think Sammy’s accusation of “living your sad little lives to please Joey Drew” is projection – that’s what SAMMY had been doing in his 15+ years at the studio, and he now condemns it as pathetic. I don’t think he was willingly or knowingly aiding Joey at this point.

Joey, meanwhile, doesn’t seem to have a master plan so much as an ability to just… roll with whatever happens and make it work for him. He tells Buddy, simultaneously, that this was “meant to be” and “the plan all along,” but that he didn’t actually know what he wanted to do with Buddy until the moment he saw him in the demon’s jaws. So, like, this was just a lucky break for Joey, a moment where the right person just happened to be dead in front of him at just the right time for him to turn that person into a cartoon, and it worked out great!! He didn’t orchestrate this – it was a series of accidents that he retroactively decided was a plan. Joey Drew is an opportunist! And I think the fact that he didn’t find Norman and the others until after “the ink had infected them for days” points to the idea that Joey didn’t plan that either, since he didn’t find them until much later. My reading is that once Sammy started murdering people, instead of getting that under control, Joey just kind of followed him to see if he could take those lemons and make lemonade, so to speak.

That said, I like the idea that Joey knew; it was the first canon-adjacent thing I drew in this fandom! I don’t think they were in cahoots in canon, but it’s still an idea I’m really fond of. There are a lot of little things that could be used to suggest that Joey knew what was going on with Sammy and enabled it for whatever reason (my favourite evidence for this is still the “who does a god worship” convo in The Illusion of Living – the idea that Joey really wanted to see if he could make something Sammy would worship gives him a solid motive here, and becomes interesting when Sammy is the ONLY person whose infection ends up with these religious overtones, see the end of this post), but it’s equally possible from what little we know that Joey was simply negligent, caught up in his own nonsense, and never thought to look into it until Sammy became an obstacle to his own goals.

[thisbibliomaniac]

The Bayern books were my favorite series until Attolia, and then Forest Born sucked. The Attolia books were (and still are) my favorite series by a mile, and then the last two books were just okay. I absolutely loved the Lunar Chronicles, Fairest, and Heartless, and then Gilded and Cursed were two of the worst books I've ever read in my life. So no, I have not read the Hunger Games prequel.

[faejilly]

you ever mean to read a book but don't get around to it for awhile (because life the universe & everything)

so finally you manage to read it and you're just

MAD

because it is so exactly your sort of thing and you knew that going in but you still didn't read it and you could have had this story in your head for YEARS (ish? when the fuck was this thing published, time is lie, whatever) but instead you've only got it now

but at least you have it now,

so you're not really mad anymore

(but you're still a little mad, hvdu write this good a book specifically aimed at my id, I'm glaring at you very much in particular author who is on tumblr but I'm not going to tag because idk that seems rude)

[mariocki]

A Ghost Story for Christmas: The Signalman (BBC, 1976)

"The tunnel collision is the worst to be feared. Your nightmares would go hard to equal it. The wreckage becomes hideously compressed in the confined space. If fire breaks out, the tunnel and its ventilating shafts become furnace flues. You cannot see in the dark to get the wreckage and the bodies out. The screams of the injured and dying echo in a most... persistent way. It's the shape of the tunnel, you see, sir."

[izzibeeb]

JUST SAW ROMEO AND JULIET ‼️🎉💥💯 very brutal death scenes

[what-even-is-thiss]

Does anyone know that fairy tale where a woman keeps remaking her husband out of animal fat every time he dies? I think it’s from a far northern tribe in North America or Asia but I can’t for the life of me remember which one and Google isn’t helping any

My professor read it out loud to my fairy tale class last year and I never wrote down what book he was reading it out of and it’s been bugging me.

If I remember correctly she made him come back to life by rubbing her genitals on him and there was a several months long mourning period involved every time he died

Google keeps bringing up unhelpful websites no matter what combination of words I put in, unfortunately. I’m usually pretty good at using Google so my last resort is asking y’all. If you know what I’m talking about and have a lead about it I’d really appreciate it.

Edit: It has been found! Blubber Boy from a kayak full of ghosts: eskimo tales gathered and retold by Lawrence Millman

[ghostfacd]

WIRED AUTOCOMPLETE. | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. in which you and tom make a special appearance on wired’s autocomplete interview

installment of this au | recommend reading for more context

“Hi — we’re Y/N Avocot and Tom Blyth — and this is the Wired Autocomplete Interview!”

You’re both handed a white board, bigger than your face, and there’s a list of questions with some of the words covered.

“Do you want to go first?” Tom asks, giving you a small smile.

“Yes! I’m pretty excited actually,” you begin to peel off the first question. “Okay, first question: what was Y/N Avocot’s first role?”

You think for a moment, “well in terms of roles in general, my first acting role was very small and I believe it was for this ice cream commercial as a kid. I’m not sure if it’s still up but my mom had signed me up for it and they thought I was a really cute kid so they casted me.”

Tom laughs, “really?” He then retrieves his board from the crew. “Okay my turn. Why does Coriolanus Snow turn evil?”

That question makes you slightly giggle, because it’s so broad that it’s nearly impossible for Tom to narrow down exactly what it is that made Coriolanus suddenly switch. “I believe you should be asking Suzanne Collins, shout-out to her for making the entire trilogy and prequel. But honestly? I think he was always power hungry, and even though Tigris tried her very best to bring out the humanity in him, it was just never enough. Especially after Sejanus’s death, I think Coriolanus realized there was no going back.”

“Oh wow,” you say, very impressed with how he decided to answer it. “That was a terrific answer Tom.”

“Thank you m’lady.” You giggle at his antics, rolling your eyes jokingly.

“What role does Y/N Avocot play in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes?” You clear your throat, imitating one of your character’s iconic resting bitch face.

“I play Balleona Laurent, duh.” You joke. “Anyway, yes, I play Balleona, also known as Leona. She’s originally from the Capitol just like Coriolanus. They met at the academy and she automatically knew she had to have him. She comes from the Laurent family, which is a very very wealthy, well off, intimidating family that Coriolanus knows he just has to get into, which is why they start dating. I don’t wanna spoil too much of Leona and Corio in the movie, soooo you guys should definitely check it out!”

“Alright,” Tom adjusts himself in his seat, ripping off the paper for the next question. “Does Tom Blyth have a girlfriend?”

He pretends to think, which makes you bite your lip, suppressing a laugh. “Hmm, very complex question.”

“Oh give the people what they want!” You tease, “yes he does. He’s inlove with Jennifer Lawrence.”

“I am not inlove with Jennifer Lawrence!” He exclaims quickly, “although I greatly admire her work. My girlfriend is Y/N Avocot over here, sadly.”

“Sadly?!” You fake offense, “cut the cameras. I’m gonna beat Tom up.”

You peel away at your next question, the interview already being loads of fun for the both of you. “Is Y/N Avocot a good singer?”

Your head falls forward, and Tom’s automatic instinct is to catch you, not realizing you’re only joking. “Oh God, I hope so!” You say, laughing as you pick your head up. “I’m no Mariah Carey but I like to think I’m a pretty okay singer.”

“More than okay,” Tom chimes in, which makes you laugh.

“Aw, thanks Tom.”

Tom reaches to peel another question off. “Is Tom Blyth American?” This question makes you almost spit out the water you were currently taking a sip out of. “Well, a lot of people get shocked when I say I’m from the UK. I mean, is my American accent that good?”

“Guess so,” you shrug. “Okay next. Is Y/N Avocot in The Summer I Turned Pretty?”

You clasp your hands together excitedly, giving the camera a wide smile. “Yes! I play Maekella Fisher, also known as Ella Fisher, Steven Conklin’s love interest and sister to Conrad and Jeremiah. The first season airs out soon so please stay tune for that! I’m so excited to be apart of this amazing show with such amazing people.”

“I always come to watch her on set,” Tom says, “they’re all such funny and charismatic people. I swear I’ve became friends with everyone on Y/N’s cast.”

“Okay, my last question,” Tom peels off the paper, grinning. “Will Tom Blyth star in another movie soon?”

He smirks, eyes playfully looking into the camera. “Who knows? But I do know that something exciting will be coming out soon so prepare yourselves!”

“Way to tease the crowd Blyth,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Anyway! My last question, this was quick. What is Y/N Avocot’s skincare routine? Oh, I’ve been waiting for this one.”

You sit on the edge of your seat, and Tom finds it endearing that you’re so excited about something as small as this.

“First, I rinse my face with cold water and I dip my face in a bowl of ice and water for 3 minutes. Afterwards, I put on my dewy toner from Innisfree, it’s so smooth and nice. Sometimes I’m too lazy for this step but I also put on sunscreen, it’s important so I always remind myself to not forget— but I love to use Supergoop Unseen’s Sunscreen. I use drunk elephant’s bronze drops if I wanna go for a sunkissed look that day, but I usually don’t. And then I just shake my Tower facial spray and spray it all over my face. Usually, I touch up my eyebrows and do my eyeliner but that’s really about it!”

“It’s true,” Tom adds. “She asked me if I could go buy her the tower spray yesterday because she was almost out.”

“No need to expose me like that,” you say, clinging your arms onto his. “Well thank you guys for watching!”

“Thank you!” Tom and you wave at the camera, smiling brightly.

[itsmarsss]

Vulgar Display of Power [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)

You can never fucking beat him in a fight and it's getting frustrating.

Request: omg more miguel please!!! smutty if u can xx already dating if you want? Fic title comes from my (second) favorite Pantera album. Word count: 4,350 Warnings: SMUT. established relationship, theres plot but it only serves to justify the sex lol, i use present tense in this, degrading, first time sub!miguel kind of, handjob, fingering, oral sex, penetration (p in v), semi-public sex (i guess? no one's around but the location isn't exactly private), a lot of use of pet names (baby, babe, love, mi amor), so much swearing. obviously no one is a minor here I don't mention much context but can be read as hs senior year or later, doesn't really matter. if you're a minor kindly keep away from my blog and this fic please

“Fuck!”  You yell out as Sensei Lawrence announces Miguel’s win. In turn of your frustration, Miguel sports a grin that playfully mocked you.

Now don’t get it twisted, you’re not a bad fighter. You’re not even a good one- you’re great. The best, except for…

“Diaz! Good one.” Sensei Lawrence praises.

“Nice, dude!” Hawk comes to fist bump him.

Tory comes to you. “Girl get it together! You’re better than that!”

“I’m fucking trying.”

Miguel hears the two of you talking and decides to insert himself into the conversation. “Come on, it’s not a big deal.”

“I say this with love but it is a big deal and I’m gonna find a way to beat you.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.”

[. . .]

“Hey,” you hear Miguel call from behind you, turning around for a split second to look at him before getting back to packing your stuff to leave the dojo. 

“Hey.”

“So, are we still on for tonight?”

“Yeah. I just wanna go home first and take a shower.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Hey are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something seems… weird.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe,” you tell him, bringing a hand to his face and lightly tapping his cheek.

“You sure?”

“Yes! I just said it is!” You realize you blew up at him for no reason, immediately feeling bad for it and apologizing, not managing to look at him. “Sorry.”

“See? That’s what I mean!”

“I really am sorry.”

“Okay, but something’s clearly wrong.”

You stay silent, and he walks up to you, cornering you so you’d face him.

“What’s going on?”

Honestly, you don’t want to tell him. Because it would sound stupid. Because it is stupid. You don’t even exactly know why it had gotten so under your skin this time. 

“It’s fine. I’m just a bit off today.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don't have to lie either.”

“Fine. You wanna know what’s wrong? I’m frustrated because you keep beating me.”

“What?”

“Every single time we’re picked to fight I just can’t fucking beat you. And yes, I’m glad you don’t go easy on me, cause that would be like a million times worse, but I'm frustrated with myself. You’re the only one I've never fully beat in a match. The closest I’ve ever gotten to that was a tie.”

“Well most of the time it ends up in a tie.” 

“Yeah but none of the time did it end with me winning.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”

“Of course you don’t. I just feel like if I still can’t beat you then have I really been getting better?”

“What? That’s nonsense, babe. You know that, right? Of course you’ve been getting better. We all have.”

“See I told you it would be stupid. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way.”

“That’s okay. We can just sort that out.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll ask sensei for the keys.”

“What?”

“We’re gonna stay here and fight and we’re not gonna leave until you win.”

“That’s really not what I was trying to get from this-”

“What, are you scared?” He knew just how to tug on your strings. 

“Oh fuck no.”

“Then we’re doing this.”

“But what about the date?”

“We can go tomorrow. If you need my help today, I'll help you today.”

“Okay.”

[. . .]

“Alright, ready?”

You only nod your head yes, too focused to even speak.

“Okay. Round one.”

You get a couple punches in, but he’s faster than most of your hits. He wins..

You huff, annoyed. “Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Okay that’s it. Again.”

This time, determination runs through your veins, as tired as you were. Every single moment of feeling weak or inferior or as though you were seen by others as basically the female equivalent of Miguel, and not yourself, not someone capable of being better than him in any way, channeled into this round. 

And you won. This time, you fucking won. 

“Wait that’s three,” you realize.

“Yeah! You won!” Miguel celebrates.

“What?”

“You won, babe!”

“Oh my God. Holy fucking shit. I won?!”

He laughs, coming up to you. “You did.” He places a quick kiss on your lips, but you’re taken over by the adrenaline, pulling him back to you by the collar of his shirt when he went to pull away, tangling him into another kiss, deeper and more passionate this time around. “That was hot,” he comments, as you finally did let him part ways with you to breathe, your bodies still flushed together. 

You feel your cheeks burn at his comment. “I just kicked your ass,” you joke.

He doesn’t even seem fazed by the comment. “Yeah you did,” he grins.

“I did not expect that to unlock some sort of loser kink in you.”

“Hey! That’s not what this is!”

You lift an eyebrow, amused. 

“What, you’re telling me it’s a crime if my insanely hot girlfriend looks insanely hot while kicking my ass?”

“Should I kick your ass more often then?”

“You’re welcome to.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Shut up,” he retorts, finally having enough of the playful bantering, unable to wait a second longer to have your lips on his again. 

Miguel pulls you even closer to him- if that were even possible- by pulling on your waist, not wasting a second more before diving in again, pulling you into a kiss that is much more feral this time around. His actions scream that he wants you, and the high from having reached your goal and beat him in the last round mixed with the lust forming in you from seeing him so affected, so attracted to this, it feels good.

You suppose some people would maybe come into an issue if they found themselves in your place. Men aren’t exactly known for being great at dealing with women being better than them in… well, anything. But Miguel acted genuinely proud of you. Hell, he’d canceled your date night to help you with this because he realized it was important to you. And more than being supportive, he was turned on by your display of power. 

His kisses start trailing out of your lips, to your jaw, to the space below your ear. “You did so well, love. You should get something in turn, huh?”

Your mind was getting a bit foggy. Still, you join in playing his game. “I suppose I should. What are you gonna do?”

“Whatever you want me to,” he breathes out. Oh. That was definitely new. 

“Whatever I want?” He only nods, looking up at you, waiting to be told what to do. Holy shit, that was hot. “That sounds good.”

“Just tell me, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” he pleads. It was almost pathetic. You decide you’d never get enough of hearing him plead like that. You loved the times in which he was more dominant, but you could definitely get behind this too, no issues whatsoever.

You pretend to think. “I don’t think I will.”

“What? Why not?”

“I want you to guess.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“I- Uh- Ih-” he takes a deep breath. He liked that. You smiled. “I can do that.”

“Good boy,” you try, hoping he didn’t find it weird. 

Apparently, he didn’t. “Fuck. Fuck,” he lets out in almost strangled sounds, wordlessly dropping himself to the floor. He looks up at you with doe eyes, as if pleading for permission. You smile at him, signaling everything was okay. You cage his jaw with both your hands, and he closes his eyes for a moment, letting you play with his hair.

“You look so pretty like this,” you coo, and he feels it down his spine, his eyes fluttering open. 

“Sit.”

“What?”

“Sit,” he repeats himself, but it isn’t demanding. Not this time. 

“I heard you.”

“Sit, please, baby.”

You grin. You didn’t know you’d like this this much. “Of course, baby.” You sit down on the bench, legs closed. He parts them confidently, eyes not leaving yours as he does so slowly, positioning his body between them. With his face mere inches from yours, he looks up at you again. 

“Do you want me to kiss you?” He guesses. His cheeks red, he clearly looks embarrassed. It turned him on and it turned you on too. 

You nod eagerly, signaling he’d guessed right. He smiles and closes the distance between you, pulling you down and attaching his lips to yours. It starts out slow, tender, experimental- testing the waters. He grows eager pretty fast, though, kissing you harder, his hands traveling to either of your thighs and planting themselves there firmly, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp slightly in surprise. 

He pulls away just to tease you about it. That’s the kind of little shit he is.

“What was that for?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” 

“Not this then?”

He squeezes your thigh again and you try to act unbothered.” He notices though, pleased with himself.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He pulls you into a kiss again with no warning, more feral than before, his hand traveling upwards, inside the legs of the shorts you were wearing. 

“Take it off,” you pant out, a stern tone overtaking your words, and he complies without questioning. You smile, pleased with that. You lift your hips slightly for him and he throws the shorts somewhere on the floor behind you. 

He stares at your underwear for a few moments, as if lost in a trance. You laugh. “Hello? You here?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”

“Used to what?” You move a hand to caress his face. 

“The fact that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“Aw, do you like that, baby? Does it turn you on?” You ask, your tone almost mocking him.

He only nods his head yes, looking embarrassed.

“That’s good.” You make a show to slowly take off your shirt, a sudden surge of confidence running through your veins at his words, discarding it along with the shorts behind you.  His eyes widen and he mumbles a few words, the volume of his words so low you couldn’t make it out for the life of you, before he just surges forward again, not aiming for your lips this time, but for your jaw. 

“What was that?” You manage to breathe out as he continues his trail of kisses along your jaw.

“What?”

“If you’re gonna talk you’re gonna let me hear it. Got it?”

“Oh-okay.” He continues to place quick, slight pecks along your jawline, but you know exactly what he’s doing.

“You’re not distracting me from that. I wanna know what you said, baby. Wanna hear you.”

“I said- I said uh-“ he gulps. “It’s dumb.”

“That’s okay.”

“I just said ‘fuck me’.”

You let out a small laugh. “Oh. It was dumb,” you mock him again, and you can see he didn’t expect that.

“What?”

“I though you wanted to fuck me,” you joke.

 He doesn’t take it as a joke. “I do. I do I just meant- it was just-“ oh. This was for real. 

“I know, love. I was just teasing you. Okay? You’re being so good to me.”

His eyes almost sparkle at the praise. 

“You know I think I changed my mind.”

“What?” 

“Maybe I should fuck you.”

“What do you mean?”

You look down on him and smile, a genuine sweet smile. “Get up.”

“But-“

“I thought you said you’d do whatever i wanted you to,” you fake-pout. 

He doesn’t say a word before standing back up. You do the same, keeping your body flushed to his. You slowly turn the two of you around, cornering him until the back of his knees hit the bench and pushing him to sit down on it. 

Standing in front of him, you tilt your head to the side as you take in the view. He looked disheveled as ever. You loved it. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.

“I- I can take it off.”

“Yeah I think you should.”

“What… what do you want me to take off?”

“Let’s go with the shirt first, baby. How about that?”

He nods furiously. “Yeah I can do that,” he takes his shirt off in a millisecond, throwing it with your clothes on the floor. 

“Oh, you look so pretty,” you coo, stepping closer to him and lifting his chin up to look at you. You make your way around the bench to be behind him, and you can see him gulp in anticipation. Fuck, you were loving this a little too much. You trace his biceps with your finger. “Your arms, I love your arms, you know that? So big and strong,” you exaggerate, and he quirks an eyebrow at the suspicious comment. This doesn’t sound like it was getting to a nice praising place. “And your body, I mean your abs. Your thighs, your thighs are so pretty, baby,” you crouch a bit, still behind him, wrapping yourself around his back so you could snake your arms to his thighs, still only tracing them with a single finger. “So how come you lost to me like a bitch?”

That seems to remind him very well of what was happening.

“It- it was one time.”

“One time you lost to me. But you’ve barely ever won, have you?”

He stays quiet. 

“Come on, baby, talk to me…” you pout, snaking your arms around his torso and kissing his neck.

“N-no.”

“Did you like that you lost to me baby?”

Quiet again.

“Did it turn you on?” You whisper in his ear and you can feel him take in big a breath. .

He couldn’t even look at you .

“Oh, pretty boy, I wanna hear your voice!”

He gulps again. “It- it turned me on,” he confesses. 

“I never knew you were into this sort of thing.”

“Me- me neither.”

“Do you like it when I’m stronger than you? When I tell you what to do?”

You remove yourself from his body entirely, and he whips his head at record speed to look at you, desperate for your touch again. You circle the bench once again, standing in front of him. You grab his jaw and lifts his head up to look at you, your other hand messing with his hair. “So pathetic. I’ve barely done anything to you and you’re this hard.”

You finally sit yourself down on his thighs, legs on either side of his torso, and he immediately and instinctively grabs your ass ‘for support’ as he’s always insisted with a grin. 

“You’re so fucking pathetic you’ll do anything I tell you to. Won’t you?” You pout, tilting your head.

“I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.” 

“That’s a good boy,” you mess with and pet his hair again. You loved it when it was just long enough for his curls to appear. 

He shivers. “Can you say it again?”

“Oh, no can do, baby. You’ll have to keep being a good boy to earn it.”

“I’ll- I’ll be a good boy, okay?”

You nod silently, your arms draped around his neck, and you pull yourself closer to get access to his face. You kiss along his jawline slowly, paying extra attention to the spots just under his ears, which made him shiver like crazy. When you find it sufficient, you move down to his neck, and he lets you, tilting his head to the side. You kiss down his neck, trying your best to not leave any marks. He’s still shivering now, and you know him well enough to know he’s okay, but can’t resist teasing him a bit more. 

“Oh no, baby, you’re trembling! Is everything okay?” You feign ignorance.  He doesn’t reply. “Aw are you too horny to speak to me? Is that the issue?” You mock.

He lifts his hips for some friction, an involuntary tell that he was enjoying this too. “Aw, do you like it when I’m mean to you? Huh?” You lift his chin again. He begrudgingly nods his head yes. You smile and move your hand from his chin to his cheeks, squeezing both off them. “Does my baby like it when I’m in control? When I handle you like this? When I call you names?” 

He tries to reply, but can’t really with you squeezing his face like that. 

“Oh I can’t hear you baby!” You let go of his face. “You’re gonna have to say it again.”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, I- I like it when you’re mean to me.” 

“I know, baby boy. I can feel it.” With no other warning, you palm him through his shorts. He was impossibly hard. Knowing he was liking this was for sure improving your confidence. The moment your hand meets his crotch his breathing becomes unsteady and he thrusts his hips up again, wanting more. You start kissing along his neck as you keep feeling him up through the shorts, and then he is gone. He lets himself let out delicious moans you would play on repeat if you could, tilting his head back to grant you better access to his neck. He wants more, and you know he does. But you want to hear him say it. 

After a few minutes, he does. 

“Please take it off.”

You press a gentle kiss to his neck, containing a grin. “What are you talking about, babe?”

“My shorts, take them off, please. Please, take them off.”

You press a quick peck on his lips this time. “You beg so pretty, baby. I think I’ll need more of that.”

He looks confused.

“Anything I tell you, right?” 

He nods. 

“Good. Eat me out.”

His eyes widen at the bluntness of it all. And then he realizes what you meant by needing more of his begging: you weren’t going to solve his little problem all that soon. 

“I- yes. Yeah.” 

You pull yourself off of him and he stands up as quickly as humanly possible, grabbing your hand and yanking you to Sensei’s office, rushing to move everything that was on his desk. You catch his drift and pull yourself up to sit on it. You’re so enthralled you don’t even really have the time to rethink what you’re doing and where you are. Miguel gets himself on his knees, and the sight of it from above is breathtaking. 

“Are you sure you wanna be on your knees? They’re gonna hurt.” You ask him, seriously this time.

“I don’t care,” is all he says, dismissing the thought. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, and you let yourself lean back on your elbows. He brings a hand up your thigh and takes off your underwear, you lift your hips up to help. 

He brings both his hands to your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, opening your legs. 

He wastes no time before diving in, startling you when, in a second, his head is between your thighs while his hands squeeze them hard and his mouth is suddenly on you. 

He moves his tongue up and down your clit, occasionally circling around it. Now and then he takes a long lick, from your hole to your clit, letting out a moan from time to time as he tastes you, and he picks up on the shaky breaths and loud moans you let out at that (and the way your hands fly to his hair, slightly pulling it.) 

He moves his tongue to your hole, licking and kissing around it before getting it inside.

It makes you almost want to scream out his name. 

“Oh my god. You’re being so good to me, baby. Please don’t stop-” 

You can feel his smile. 

He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and moves it to thumb at your clit as he keeps fucking you with his tongue. The feeling is heavenly, but you can’t help but want more. 

“Your fingers.” Is all you say, and he gets it.

Normally in a situation like this he’d be teasing you in some way, but right now just the thought of upsetting you with that and having you leaving him to finish himself off, or something down that lane, got him quiet. 

He changes what he’s doing, going back to flicking your clit with his tongue, and slowly inserting one of his fingers. You decide you want to tease a bit more. “That all you got?” You challenge him, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He inserts another finger, not taking the care to do it slowly this time, and he pushes them deep inside you, curling them upwards to make sure you felt it.

You let out a moan that’s so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed at it, but you can feel him grin at it, pleased with the reaction. He keeps on, but at a slow pace. In other instances, you didn’t mind some slow, passionate sex. You loved it, even. But right now you wanted to be fucked.

“Harder.”

He pulls his head up to kiss you. You let him. As you make out, your taste still on his tongue, his fingers thrust harder, deeper inside you, making you moan into his mouth, which Miguel seemed to enjoy a little too much.

You can feel yourself brimming an orgasm, and your words become nonsense as he keeps on, your noises becoming so higher-pitched you can barely register you’re the one making them. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fucking-“

It hits you suddenly, killing your train of thought. Your body trembles as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, letting you ride out your high. He laps it all up gladly, but you pull him away, your clit oversensitive. 

That doesn’t mean you didn’t want more.

“Everything okay?” 

“Yes, baby. You were such a good boy. But I want you to fuck me now.” 

Miguel was still not used to you being this blunt. And honestly neither were you, for the matter. The words just kept coming out. 

“What- what do you want me to do?” 

You get close to his ear and whisper. “Whatever you want, baby.”

His eyes widen. Whatever he wants. 

 He pulls you off the desk and wordlessly takes you back to the locker room. He leaves you for a second to retrieve a condom from his bag. A prepared man, you’d say.

You manage to take a better look at him and laugh. He furrows his eyebrows together. “What?”

“You look so fucked out right now.”

He rolls his eyes at you and takes off his shorts, kicking them away. He goes to pull his boxers down but you stop him, stroking him in an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a groan. “Please stop, I’m not gonna last.”

“Oh poor you.” You yank his boxers down. His dick is so hard it must be painful. And all from losing a fight and being called mean names. He walks the two of you backwards until your back is against a wall. He puts the condom on and looks at you for a green light. 

“Go on, baby.” 

He nods, pressing his cock into your hole slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion.

“Fuck.” You breathe out.

“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck? Does it hurt?”

“I’m alright. It was a good fuck.”

“Okay.” He hikes up one of your legs to his waist, and you think he’ll be content with that position, but he hikes up your other leg too, pressing your back even more firmly to the wall and supporting your weight by holding firmly onto the back of your thighs. 

“Woah what are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother responding, thrusting into you experimentally. 

“Holy shit.”

That is enough for him. His thrusts become harder, deeper, faster. He hadn’t realized just how desperate he was until now. 

Hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust, it doesn’t take long for his breath to quicken and his thrusts to become sloppier. “I’m gonna- can I-“

Was he trying to ask for permission to cum? Holy fucking shit, that was hot.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’ve been so good. You can cum.”

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he chanted.

 You laugh as his desperation, but it quickly turns into a moan, with Miguel eager to cum and fucking you so hard now you can’t even understand how he could still hold up your weight while doing that. Bless you universe for giving you a strong, strong boyfriend. But all of that didn’t matter now, because he was fucking you so good you could feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm building again.

“Please don’t stop.” That was the first time you begged him for something the whole time.

“I won’t, mi amor.” Oh, that broke you. That one pet name didn’t come out all that frequently, so when it did, you felt giddy on the inside. 

With a few more thrusts, both of you reach your high, and at that point Miguel did have to pull you down, although your legs currently trembled so hard it was a little difficult to stand, but he helps you out after tying the condom up and throwing it away.

“Holy shit,” you finally let out. 

“Holy shit,” he agrees. 

“What were you saying about your loser kink again?”

“Will you shut up about that?” He smiles.

“Was I too mean to you? I might’ve gotten a little carried away."

He looks down to the floor in embarrassment as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. “I liked it.”

“That’s good baby. So, shower?”

“Yeah you stink,” he makes a disgusted face, plugging his nose and everything just to irritate you. 

You roll your eyes at him. 

A/N: pls be kind to me and cut me some slack i've never posted smut before 😭 i promise ive had sex before 😭 fighting for my life lmao

[pucksandpower]

Lance Stroll x Wolff!Reader - Social Media AU

y/nwolff

Liked by lance_stroll, estebanocon, and 861,702 others

y/nwolff went into quarantine as a girlfriend and proud owner of a pet rock, leaving quarantine as a fiancée and proud mom to our fur baby

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lance_stroll can we just stay here? i don’t want to share you with the rest of the world again

y/nwolff no can do, the season is starting back up again soon

lance_stroll i’ll quit. it’s not like either of us really has to work if we don’t want to

y/nwolff but you love racing

lance_stroll i love you more though

y/nwolff i like seeing you in your race suit too much to let you stop

lance_stroll promise to be at every race?

y/nwolff you know i always am ❤️

estebanocon i can’t wait to meet estie bestie jr

lance_stroll for the last time, we didn’t name our dog after you

estebanocon says who?

y/nwolff literally us

estebanocon that sign can’t stop me because i can’t read

f1wagupdates the best quarantine glow up 😍

vogueitalia

Liked by y/nwolffstroll, lance_stroll, and 473,926 others

vogueitalia Love, luxury, and a union of dynasties! Elegance and style met in true fairytale fashion for Lance Stroll and Y/N Wolff’s breathtaking wedding. Explore their glamorous weekend affair on the Amalfi Coast in a Vogue Italia exclusive.

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dancestroll this just called me poor in a hundred different languages 😭

f1wagupdates the only royal wedding that matters

bigbadwolff the photo of toto tearing up as he walked y/n down the aisle 🥺

lightsoutlance i don’t care what anyone says, toto and lawrence would do (and have done) anything for their kids and it’s adorable

astonmartinf1

Liked by y/nwolffstroll, lance_stroll, and 638,542 others

astonmartinf1 *David Attenborough voice*

Here we see the Wolff casually Stroll-ing around her natural habitat

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lance_stroll yowza 🤩

y/nwolffstroll you use social media like a middle-aged dad

lance_stroll you can just call me “daddy” 😉

y/nwolffstroll please never say that again

lance_stroll i instantly regretted it the moment i hit post 😬

y/nwolffstroll admin deserves a raise

astonmartinf1 thank you! feel free to tell your father-in-law that 🫣

mercedesamgf1 independent fact-checkers say this is false. her natural habitat is our garage

astonmartinf1 fight us for her then

mercedesamgf1 time and place?

y/nwolffstroll both teams get me equally and if you can’t accept that then i will have no choice but to start cheering for red bull

astonmartinf1 fine … we’ll be civil

mercedesamgf1 the enemy of our enemy is our friend 🤝

[vivwritesfics]

She's The Devil

(In Disguise)

She was just a hooker and Fernando was just a man looking for directions. They were never meant to fall in love

3.7K

Warnings: reader is a sex worker, non descript smut, Lawrence stroll is an ass

Fernando Alonso was incredibly lost. All he wanted to do was got to The Crown Plaza Hotel and sleep after a long day on track.

But he was so lost. Looking around and trying to read street signs weren't helping at all.

So, Fernando kept going. He drove until he found a busy street and parked up on it. But, before Fernando opened the car door, a young lady, scantily clad, knocked on his window.

Fernando rolled it down. "Hey, big boy," she said. "You need some help?"

She was pretty, he thought as she leaned against the window. But she was clearly nervous. Something stirred within him.

Fernando nodded his head towards the passenger seat. She walked around to the other side of the car and climbed in. Almost immediately, she reached for his zipper, but Fernando placed her hands back in her lap. "Oh, so, do you want me to touch myself?"

"I want you to tell me where The Crown Plaza Hotel is," he said.

She sat up a little straighter. "This is still going to cost you," she said before she directed him to The Crown Plaza Hotel.

As soon as they reached The Crown Plaza Hotel, Fernando climbed out of the car abd gave his keys to the valet. She did the same and held her hand towards him, expectantly. "Pay up," she said.

Fernando looked towards the hotel. "The money is up in my room," he said and pulled the door to the lobby open for her.

With his hand on the small of her back, Fernando led her through the lobby. He didn't much care for the stairs he got as he walked her into the elevator and pressed the button for the floor he was staying on.

Even in the elevator, she was looking around, eyes full of wonder. "Nobody has ever taken me somewhere this fancy before," she whispered. Elevator music filled the silence between them as the elevator took them up and the doors once again slid open.

Just as he had in the lobby, Fernando had his hand on the small of her back as he led her to his room.

It was, without a doubt, the most impressive Hotel room she had ever been in. "Holy shit," she whispered as she looked around, taking in everything. There was a plush sofa with a television in front of it, a spread of food on the table against the door abd art work hanging all around the room. "Have a seat and something to eat, if you'd like," he said as he threw his jacket over the back of a chair.

She instantly went over to the table and grabbed an apple. Sinking her teeth into it, her too high heels clicked against the floor as she walked over to the sofa and sat down.

It was the comfiest thing she had sat on in weeks.

Fernando took his time to find the cash he had brought with him. Every time he walked past the door of his bedroom, he looked at her, watched as she got herself another apple. She looked so young, no older than twenty-five. She was too young for this life, he decided as he watched her.

Finally, Fernando found the money. He pulled out the desired amount and brought it to her. "This is a really nice room," she said as she turned on the television.

Fernando couldn't help but look at her. He had no doubts she'd go back out onto the streets or back to a cold, one bedroom apartment, and limited food.

He shoved the money back into his pocket. "How much for you to stay with me for the next three days?" He asked.

She raised her eyebrows at him. Three days, that was three days of no other client. She thought on it as she ate her second apple. "Why would you want me here for the next three days?"

Fernando sat on the sofa with her. He tucked himself into the corner of the sofa and she turned towards him. "I'm in an unfamiliar city," he answered. "Maybe I want some company."

She let out a snort. "And you want company from a sex worker? Are you at least going to have sex with me?"

"Not unless you want me to," he answered.

She grinned and began taking off her heels. "£500 a day, and you can get me dinner."

That Fernando was more than okay with. He picked up the phone already in his hotel room and ordered food for the both of them to the room.

While they waited for the food, Fernando let her choose a movie. As much as he wanted to make conversation, he stayed quiet, letting her grow comfortable.

Her feet were tucked beneath her legs as she watched the movie. But then she turned her attention towards Fernando. For a moment she watched him, pulling her legs up to her chest and pressed her cheek her to knee. "How does somebody afford the nicest room at The Crown Plaza and the services of a girl like me for three days?"

Fernando let out an uncomfortable laugh. "I am... a Formula One driver," he answered.

"Shut up," she called, sitting up straighter. "No way!"

"I am!" He insisted.

Grinning, she leaned back on the sofa and stretched her legs out so that they were almost touching him. "I know nothing about Formula One, but aren't you too old?"

Fernando let out a scoff. "I'm not that old," he replied with a polite grin as a knock came from the door. He stood up and opened the door, allowing the food to be brought into the room.

"Dig in," Fernando said as soon as the member of staff was out of the room.

She did just that. She ate until she was fully stuffed, not noticing that Fernando barely touched any of it.

After she had eaten her fill, she laid back on the sofa and continued to watch the movie. But she didn't last very long, not before her eyes were falling shut and a yawn was leaving her lips.

Fernando watched her. "You can take the bed, if you'd like," he said and she stood her head.

Standing, she stretched and grabbed her heels from the floor. "Can you take me home?" She asked somewhat quietly, sitting back down to pull the heels onto her feet.

"You could take the bedroom, the door has a lock," he said.

She looked towards the bedroom. It certainly looked comfier than the mattress on the floor she would be returning to.

She took him up on his offer and slept in the bedroom. The door remained locked through the night, while she slept in nothing but her underwear.

Fernando slept on the sofa. It wasn't entirely terrible, but his neck ached when he woke up.

He ordered breakfast two his room, two plates full of cooked food, a plate stacked high with toast and a collection of cereals.

By the time the food arrived, she was unlocking the door and walking out in his robe. "Good morning," Fernando called as he placed two pieces of buttered toast on the place he hadn't touched.

She sat opposite him and grabbed a glass of orange juice. "Hi," she said, crossing one leg over the other. (Fernando kept his gaze fixed firmly on her face as she did so).

He cleared his throat and slid an envelope towards her. "I want take you out for dinner tonight," he said as he took the envelope and looked inside. "Go and buy yourself some clothes. As many as you'd like."

She was silent as she counted through the bills. "You can't be serious," she said, putting the envelope of money back down. There was at least £300 in there, along with a keycard. "How do you know I won't just run off with it?"

"It's less than half of what you'll be getting paid on Sunday," he answered, pushing his half finished breakfast away. "I'm heading to the track today, I've written my number on the envelope," he said.

She pushed her eggs around in her plate. "I thought you didn't race until Sunday."

Fernando couldn't help but smile. "I thought you knew nothing about F1," he replied and she snorted. "It's practice today. Qualifying tomorrow, and then the race on Sunday," he informed her as he grabbed his jacket. "Do what you want in here, treat it like your own," he said as he walked out of the door.

She did just that. After finishing her breakfast and an extra slice of toast, she explored the only other room that she hadn't visited.

The bathroom was gorgeous, bigger than her entire apartment. The tub was huge, with enough room for at least four people. Sitting on the edge of it, she began to run the water. As it ran, she turned and looked in the mirror. For once, she actually looked well rested. She ran her hands through her hair, her gaze travelling down to the black bag of toiletries below the mirror. But she didn't look, didn't invade his privacy.

She'd never been somewhere this luxurious, she thought as she sank beneath the copious bubbles in her bath. She scrubbed her body and massaged the shampoo into her scalp.

Even when she was finished, she still just laid there, waiting for the water to grow cold, the bubbles around her to pop and for her skin to grow pruney.

It was only then that she climbed out. She took her time drying her hair, a towel wrapped around her body as she moved through the hotel room, picking up her clothes as she went.

Her hair was still somewhat damp when she left the hotel room and climbed into the elevator, humming along to the music as it took her down to the lobby.

Again as she walked through the lobby, she was stared at. Maybe it was because of the height of her heels or her lack of clothing, but she didn't care. She swayed her hips as she walked out of The Crown Plaza Hotel.

It was an area she rarely visited in her line of work. She had no idea where she was going as she strolled down the streets, looking for a clothes shop.

The first shop she found she went into. She walked around the sales racks, looking for a classy dress for her dinner with Fernando. But nothing in that shop caught her eye.

She moved onto the next one. This hate it all. Classy dresses, pretty shoes and cute purses. She took some more times looking through the racks, searching for the perfect dress.

It was black and form fitting. Skirt was long, down to her mid calf, and had a slit going up the left side. It was simply perfect. She found the perfect pair of black, open toed heels to go with it, paid, and kept going.

There was still a fair bit of money left in the envelope. And, why would Fernando give it to her if not to spend it.

She returned to the hotel maybe minutes before Fernando. When he walked in, she was holding her new clothes up to her body and swaying in front of the mirror. She clearly couldn't wait for dinner.

Fernando cleared his throat, announcing himself. She placed the dress on the bed and walked out of the bedroom, heading towards Fernando. "Hi," she said, stopping in front of him.

"You went shopping, then?" He asked her.

She nodded. "Got a dress for tonight as well as a couple of other things. I hope that was okay."

Fernando couldn't stop himself from smirking. But he couldn't think of her, wouldn't think of her like that while she was on his dime.

"Well, go and get ready," he said and she turned, returned to the bedroom.

Fernando followed her. As she dug around in one of the shopping bags for the makeup she had bought.

As she ran off to the bathroom to do her makeup, Fernando got dressed into a white shirt and a pair of jeans. She did her makeup in a new style, a prettier, softer smile. One that didn't automatically give her 'fuck me' eyes.

As Fernando waited on the sofa, she ran from the bathroom to the bedroom to get dressed. She pulled her shoes on and did them up before stepping into her dress and pulling it up over her body.

As soon as she pulled the straps up, she walked out of the bedroom and over to where Fernando was sitting. "Zip me up?" She asked as she turned around and pulled her hair out of the way of the zipper.

Fernando's breath hitched as he brushed away the hair she hadn't been able to gather up. His fingers were soft against her skin as he pulled the zip up and let her hair full back in place.

He took her out for dinner. Her arm was linked through his as he walked her through the lobby to his car. The car that she hadn't quite gotten a good look at the night before.

It really was something. Some sort of McLaren, she didn't know which. But it was gorgeous. Fernando opened the door for her and she carefully slid in, holding her dress in place.

Fernando drove, playing his music as he took her to their destination. Again, it was a restaurant she had never been to. One a couple of the few dates she had been on took her out to eat, but it was never anywhere like this.

"Are you sure you're okay being seen somewhere this fancy with someone like... me?" She asked as Fernando pulled up outside. Each dish was going to be a minimum of £25 each.

Fernando looked at her, really looked at her. "I don't know," he answered, placing his hand onto her knee. She didn't have a problem with it, but as soon as he put it there, he withdrew it. "But I want to know."

Taking her arm once again, he took her into the restaurant.

Fernando let her order whatever she wanted. While they waited for food, they spoke. He asked about her life and she asked about his. When Fernando asked how she got to this point in her life, she hesitated. It wasn't the easiest subject to talk about. "I haven't... uh... turned many tricks," she finally said. "My colleagues look after me. They make sure I'm picky with it. Your car looked fancy enough for them."

Fernando let out a chuckle, his hand stretching across the table towards her, revealing the tip of the tattoo on his arm. "I'm glad," he said, softly.

But she had already grabbed his wrist and pushed up his sleeve. "I had no idea you had a tattoo," she said as she traced her finger over it.

"I'll show you the one on my back after dinner," he said, unable to hide his smile.

She settled back down as their food was placed in front of them. "How long have you been in F1 for?"

"Over twenty years now," he answered and she immediately grinned.

"See," she began as she pushed her food around on her plate. It was incredibly fancy and she was craving a greasy, terrible for you, pizza. "Told you that you're old."

Again, Fernando grinned. Normally he had an issue with people calling him old, made a point to prove that he was still young, that he still had fight in him, but with her he didn't mind. "Won the championship in 2005 and 2006."

"That's impressive, I think," she replied as she took a bite of her food.

"It is."

She took a bite of her food and looked around the restaurant. It was far too high brow for a girl like her. She sunk in on herself and took another bite of food. "Nando, do you wanna get out of here?"

As soon as she said it, he was calling for the bill and having their food boxed up for them. Fernando kept her arm on his as he walked her back out to the car, the food balanced in his other hand.

Once they got to the car, she opened the door for him and Fernando slipped into his seat. "Do you want to get anything else to eat?" He asked as they drove.

"Aren't you on, like, a strict diet or something?" She asked in reply, keeping hold of the food.

Fernando shrugged his shoulders. "If you something, I'll get it."

There was only one thing she wad craving at that moment. "Pizza?"

"Of course."

They got pizza and returned to the hotel room.

Sitting on the sofa together they watched movies while eating pizza. Fernando only had some, letting her have the rest. Just like the previous night, she began falling asleep on the couch against him. Fernando moved her to the bed.

The next day, between free practice and qualifying, Fernando was Karting with Lance. It was for the Aston Martin social media, the two of them racing around the circuit.

After free practice, Fernando returned to the hotel room. "Come with me today," he said as she sat at the table, feet propped up as she ate a pastry.

"Really? You want me to be seen with me?" She asked as she let her feet drop from the table.

"I can make sure that there are no cameras on you."

He doesn't want to be seen with you, something inside of her said. But she was getting paid for this, so she went with it. "Sure, sounds fun," she said and walked into the bedroom to get dressed.

Leaving the door open, she dropped her robe and pulled the sundress she had bought the day before onto her body. He better have seen her, she thought as she pulled on a pair of sandals, which she had also bought the day before.

"You look..." Fernando breathed as she stepped out of the bedroom towards him.

She held her skirt and spun. "Is it too much?"

"It's perfect," he said and offered her his arm. He walked her out of the room and out to the car. For the entire journey to the track, Fernando gave her a rundown of the team.

"Most importantly, you're going to see I'm not that bad for an old guy."

She giggled and reached over to kiss his cheek. Fernando parked up and took her hand as they climbed out.

Hand in hand they walked to the track. It seemed like everybody was waiting for them when they arrived. Before he knew it, Fernando was leaving her standing with Lance's girlfriend as he suited up and pulled his helmet.

They raced, Fernando holding the lead. He really did prove that he wasn't so bad for an old timer.

As soon as they finished filming the video, Fernando pulled off his helmet and walked over to her. "Not bad for an old timer, I'd say," he said with a grin.

"Not bad at all," she replied, holding his helmet from him.

But when Lawrence Stroll called him over, Fernando went. He left his helmet with her and joined his boss.

"Where did you find that pretty young thing," he asked as they walked.

Suddenly Fernando didn't feel comfortable answering. But he swallowed down the fear he was feeling. "She gave me directions for The Crown Plaza. And then I kept her around," he answered.

Lawrence frowned. "Is she... is she a hooker?" He asked and Fernando nodded. "Well, she can't come to the race tomorrow," he said. "It wouldn't look good for Aston Martin."

As much as Fernando didn't like the sounds of that, he understood. He said goodbye to his boss and walked back over to her. "Come on," he said, taking his helmet from her. "I think I promised to show you my back tattoo.

He did what he needed to do before leaving the track and walked her back to the car. They climbed in and, with an hour and a half before Fernando needed to be back for qualifying, he took her back to the hotel.

Things were quiet when they walked in. Fernando kept a hold of her hand as he walked her to the bedroom. As soon as he was at the bed, he pulled off his shirt and laid down on the bed, revealing his back tattoo to her.

"Wow," she gasped. She climbed onto him, sitting on his back as she traced her fingers over the lines of his tattoo. "Did it hurt?" She asked, feeling his shoulders and his muscles.

Fernando didn't know. He kept a hold of her, rolled her over while keeping her on him. One look in his eyes and she was dipping down, kissing him like it was the last time.

He spent all of the time he had before qualifying making sweet love to her. He was slow, rolling his hips against her own, eliciting soft cried of his name from her hips. Nobody had ever treated her that tenderly before. Nobody had ever made her cry out like that.

"I have to go," he whispered, his hands intertwined with hers.

She brought his hand up to her lips and kissed the back of it. "D'you think I could come with you?" She asked sweetly, innocently.

It was so difficult, but Fernando said no. He left her there while he went racing. Part of him wanted to break it off now, knowing it could never work between them, but he couldn't bring himself to.

But that day was fast approaching and his heart was already breaking.