#met gala was her grand finale

[larrylimericks]

19May24

Precisely a year since it started (The Sun forgot ratrry tongues darted)— May the next be as mild (We’re still detoxing Wilde)— The curtain’s come down, Hussell’s parted.

[raekensluver]

a guarded romance (1)

part two

description: you are a famous billionaire's daughter and your father has hired you a new bodyguard. his name is spencer reid and he used to be a part of the fbi's behavior analysis unit.

pairing: bodyguard!spencer reid x famous!reader

contains: age gap (everyone is 18+), fake relationship, mentions of a stalker, talk of parental death, overprotective father, lmk if i missed anything!

song rec: you don't own me by SAYGRACE ft. g-eazy- "don't tell me what to do, and don't tell me what to say."

w.c: 2.4k

an: i hope you all enjoy!! i feel like there aren't many bodyguard!spencer fics on tumblr. please give me feedback! good or bad, i appreciate it!

in the grandiose study, the scent of aged leather and mahogany filled the air, a silent testament to the wealth and power that had been cultivated within its walls. the room was dimly lit, the setting sun casting a warm glow through the stained glass windows, creating a mosaic of colors on the polished floor. your father's office was a sanctuary, a place where he made decisions that shifted the course of empires, but today, it was where your world was about to be upended once again.

"honey," your father's firm voice called out as you stepped into the room, his eyes never leaving the paperwork scattered across his desk. he looked up, the stern lines on his face softening slightly as he took in your appearance. "this is spencer reid, your new bodyguard."

spencer stood by the door, his posture ramrod straight, and his eyes met yours. there was a flicker of something in them, an intensity that made you pause. he was tall, with a lean build and a sharp jawline that spoke of discipline and experience. his suit was impeccable, but there was a hint of something else beneath the surface, a wildness that the tailored fabric couldn't quite conceal. he looked older than you, maybe thirty-five, if you had to guess.

"daddy, i don't need another babysitter," you protested, crossing your arms over your chest. "i'm twenty-five, not five. i can handle myself."

your father sighed heavily, setting down his pen and folding his hands together. "sweetheart, it's not about that. it's about keeping you safe. with everything that's been happening, i just want to make sure you're protected."

you rolled your eyes, feeling the familiar ache of frustration in your chest. "what's been happening? i've had one stalker in the last year, and that was just some lovesick fan. i can handle myself."

spencer cleared his throat, his gaze shifting between you and your father. "miss carter, if i may, i understand your concerns. i've studied the case files and the potential threats are minimal. but in the line of work i've been in, it's always better to be safe than sorry."

his words hung in the air, and you felt a spark of curiosity. there was something about the way he spoke, a calm confidence that was hard to ignore. maybe he wasn't just another incompetent bodyguard your father had hired.

"fine," you relented, unable to argue with his logic. "but i don't need you following me around like a shadow."

spencer nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips. "i understand, miss. i'll do my best to respect your privacy while ensuring your safety."

the week flew by in a whirlwind of meetings and social engagements, with spencer a constant presence at your side. your father had informed you of the annual gala in a week's time, a grand affair where the crème de la crème of society mingled and networked. "you need to make an appearance," he'd said, his tone brooking no argument. "and i expect you to look the part."

"spencer," your father announced, his voice carrying a hint of finality, "you will accompany my daughter to select a suitable gown for the gala. it's an important event, and i want her to be dressed to the nines."

you felt a pang of annoyance at the thought of being dragged around by a bodyguard to pick out a dress, but the idea of escaping your father's scrutiny was tempting. "fine," you said with a resigned sigh, "but i can't believe you're making me go to this thing."

spencer's eyes met yours for a brief moment before he nodded. "i'll be there to ensure nothing goes wrong, miss."

the shopping trip was a delicate dance of wills. you wove through the racks of haute couture, your mind racing with thoughts of the gala and the dreaded encounter with the man your father insisted on setting you up with. spencer remained a silent sentinel, his eyes scanning the room, his presence both comforting and stifling.

you slid a sleek, black dress from its hanger, the fabric whispering against the others as it glided through the air. it was perfect for the gala, elegant yet understated, a stark contrast to the flashy outfits you knew the other attendees would be wearing. you held it up to your body, the soft fabric brushing against your fingertips. "what do you think?" you asked, not bothering to hide the challenge in your voice.

spencer's gaze flicked over the dress and then back to your face, his expression unreadable. "it's… appropriate," he said, his voice measured. "but i suspect you're looking for something more than just appropriate."

you couldn't argue with that. you wanted to make a statement, to show the world that you weren't just a billionaire's daughter to be bartered off to the highest bidder. you wanted to be seen as a woman of substance, not just a pretty face in a sea of designer labels. "i need something that says 'hands off'," you murmured, your eyes searching the racks for the perfect dress.

spencer's gaze sharpened. "you worried about someone in particular?"

you nodded, your thoughts drifting to the smug grin of the man your father was so keen on setting you up with. "his name is alexander. he's… persistent."

spencer's eyebrows shot up, the first real sign of emotion you'd seen from him. "oh, i know the type," he said, his voice tight. "well, let's make sure you're dressed to make him understand that you're not interested."

you felt a strange thrill at his sudden protectiveness, and you found yourself smiling slightly. "okay, let's do this."

as the gala night approached, the tension in the air grew thick. your father had been dropping hints about alexander, reminding you of his wealth and status, and his potential as a suitable match. you, on the other hand, had been preparing your speech, rehearsing the perfect way to tell alexander that you had no interest in him without causing a scene.

the evening of the gala arrived, and you found yourself in a whirlwind of hair and makeup artists, turning you into the picture of sophistication. the dress spencer had helped you choose was a stunning blood red that made your eyes pop and your skin glow. it hugged your curves in all the right places and had just the right amount of flair to make you feel powerful.

as you descended the grand staircase, your father's eyes widened with approval. "you look… incredible," he said, his voice filled with pride. "exactly what a future lady of the house should look like."

you bit back a retort, choosing instead to smile sweetly. "thank you, daddy. i'm sure reid will make sure i'm well protected tonight."

your father nodded, his gaze flicking to your bodyguard, who was standing a respectful distance away, watching the exchange. "he better," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

the gala was a dizzying array of lights and sounds, the chatter of the elite echoing through the opulent ballroom. spencer was a silent shadow at your side, his eyes never still as they swept the room, looking for any sign of trouble. you felt a strange comfort in his vigilance, his presence a buffer between you and the world that so often felt suffocating.

as the evening progressed, you spotted alexander cutting through the crowd, his eyes locked on you like a hawk on its prey. your heart sank, but spencer was there, his hand lightly on your elbow, guiding you through the throng of people with an ease that belied his size. "just keep walking," he murmured in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "ignore him."

but alexander was not so easily deterred. he reached you before you could escape, his smile as plastic as the flowers adorning the tables around you. "so, the elusive miss carter," he said, his voice oozing with false charm. "how are you enjoying the gala?"

you felt your heart race, his presence setting your nerves on edge. "i'm enjoying it," you replied, your voice cool and even. "thank you for asking."

alexander's gaze slid to spencer, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. "and who is this charming man at your side?"

your heart pounded in your chest, your mind racing for a way to shake alexander off. without missing a beat, you reached for spencer's hand, squeezing it tightly. "this is my fiancé, spencer reid," you blurted out, the words surprising even you.

spencer's eyes widened slightly, but he recovered quickly, his hand closing around yours. "hello, alexander," he said smoothly, a polite smile playing on his lips. "i've heard so much about you."

alexander's gaze darted between the two of you, his confusion clear. "fiancé?" he repeated, his voice skeptical. "i had no idea, your father said nothing about this."

you felt your cheeks heat up, but you held your ground, flashing spencer a desperate look. "it's a recent development," you said, your voice surprisingly steady. "we wanted to keep it private for a bit."

alexander's smile faltered, his eyes narrowing slightly. "recent?" he echoed, his grip on his champagne flute tightening. "how recent?"

you swallowed hard, your mind racing. "very recent," you said, the lie slipping off your tongue with surprising ease. "we just got engaged."

spencer squeezed your hand in reassurance, his eyes never leaving alexander's. "yes, it was quite a whirlwind," he said, playing along flawlessly. "we didn't want to make a big deal out of it."

alexander's expression shifted from skepticism to something darker, his grip on his drink tightening. "well, congratulations," he said, his voice tight. "i wish you both the best."

you felt a wave of relief wash over you as he turned and disappeared into the crowd. you looked up at spencer, your heart still racing. "thank you," you murmured, your voice shaky. "i can't believe that worked."

spencer's smile was tight, his eyes still scanning the room. "it's not over yet," he said, his grip on your hand still firm. "let's get you somewhere quieter, away from prying eyes."

you allowed him to lead you to a secluded corner of the mansion, the music and chatter of the gala fading into a distant buzz. the walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling windows, the moon casting a soft silver light over the manicured gardens outside. it was a stark contrast to the bright, flashy lights of the ballroom, and the calmness of the night seeped into your bones.

spencer's hand was still wrapped around yours, his eyes never leaving the partygoers as he scanned for any sign of danger or unwanted attention. "are you okay?" he asked, his voice low and concerned.

you nodded, trying to compose yourself. "yeah, i just… i didn't expect to lie like that." the words felt heavy on your tongue, but the truth was, you had no intention of letting alexander near you again.

spencer's gaze softened, his grip on your hand loosening slightly. "it's alright," he said gently. "i've seen worse at these types of events."

you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for dragging him into your personal drama. "i'm sorry," you whispered. "i didn't mean to get you involved."

spencer's gaze finally left the crowd, his eyes meeting yours. "it's part of the job," he said, his voice gentle. "and i'd rather be involved than see you miserable."

you looked down at your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his skin. "thank you," you said again, the words feeling inadequate. "i just… i don't know why my father can't see that i'm not a little girl anymore."

spencer's eyes searched yours, filled with understanding. "he's just trying to protect you," he said. "it's hard for parents to let go, especially when they've lost someone as important as your mother."

his words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you felt the familiar ache in your chest. your mother's death had left a void in your life that no one had ever truly filled, not even your father's overbearing attention. "i know," you said softly, "but it's like he doesn't trust me to make my own decisions."

spencer's expression grew serious. "it's his way of dealing with his fear," he said. "but you're more than capable of taking care of yourself, and i'm here to support you in any way i can."

his words resonated with you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt seen. "really?" you asked, hope flickering in your eyes.

spencer nodded. "really," he said, his voice firm. "you're a strong, independent woman. and if your father won't give you the space you need, i'll do my best to make sure you have it."

his words echoed in the quiet corner of the mansion, and you felt a sudden urge to get out of the suffocating atmosphere of the gala. "can we leave?" you asked, your voice small. "i don't think i can handle much more of this."

spencer's eyes searched yours for a moment before he nodded. "of course," he said, his voice calm. "let's go."

you felt a wave of relief as he led you through the throng of people, his hand at the small of your back a reassuring presence. the cool night air hit you like a slap in the face after the stifling heat of the gala, sending a shiver down your spine. the stars twinkled overhead, a stark contrast to the artificial lights of the mansion.

spencer opened the door to the sleek black sedan waiting outside, his hand on the small of your back as you slid into the passenger seat. you felt his eyes on you as he took his place beside you, the leather seats sighing beneath your weight. "are you okay?" he asked again, his voice low and concerned.

you took a deep breath, the cool leather calming your frazzled nerves. "i'm fine," you said, your voice shaky. "i just… i hate those kinds of events."

spencer's eyes searched yours, and without a word, he reached over and gently took your hand that was resting on your lap. "i promise," he said, his voice filled with a quiet resolve, "i will talk to your father. you're an adult, and you deserve to make your own choices."

his hand was warm and comforting, and you felt a sudden surge of gratitude towards him. "thank you," you whispered, your eyes welling up with unshed tears. "i just want to live my life without feeling like i'm under a microscope."

spencer squeezed your hand gently before releasing it to start the car. the engine purred to life, the smooth vibrations of the vehicle a stark contrast to the chaos of the evening. as you pulled away from the mansion, the lights of the gala grew smaller in the rearview mirror, and you felt a weight lift from your shoulders.

edited 8.21.24

[amirasainz]

I feel like the grid would be so happy to see Amira in the Met Gala like in thr fic that you wrote... And then Carlos would see her with Lewis and go: HEY WHY DID HE GET AN INVITE AND I DIDNT?? ALSO WHY IS HE TOUCHING MY BABY SISTER

Cue Carlos throwing hands and trying to convince Max to lend him his plane so he can go chase after a knight for being near his sister 😂

I love writing about the Met Gala. Enjoy reading and send me some requests. -XoXo

The After Party

The Met Gala and its glamorous allure had captivated the racing grid. Lewis Hamilton’s presence was no secret; they watched him on the screen, cheering and eagerly awaiting Amira’s grand entrance.

But the unsuspecting twist came during the After-Party. The anticipation to see Amira in her stunning new dress was palpable. And when they noticed her surrounded by girls, Kim and Lana, their happiness soared. Amira’s animated conversation with her friends seemed like a dream unfolding before their eyes.

Then reality shattered that dream. Lewis Hamilton, the unexpected intruder, covered her eyes. The shock wasn’t just that he was there; it was the genuine happiness on Amira’s face. But the worst part? His possessive arm remained around her waist. The. Whole. Damn. Time.

Oscar muttered, “No. No fucking way.” George stumbled over his words, unable to form a coherent sentence. Max, in his stunned state, accidentally dropped his phone.

Carlos, protective brother mode activated, shook poor Charles. “That stupid man! First, he takes MY seat. Now he wants to take my sister. What’s next, my liver? Where’s my invitation? Did you eat it?” His frustration knew no bounds.

Charles stood up, resolute. “Not with me, mate.” Daniel attempted to mediate. “Hey, Carlos, let’s calm down a bit.”

But Carlos wouldn’t be placated. “No! I won’t calm down. This man has the audacity to hold my sister. MAx, give me your plane, You don't need —DID HE JUST KISS HER CHEEK?!" "Quick! Grab him!” Pierre’s command set off a frenzy. Six drivers piled on top of Ferrari’s Carlos Sainz, determined to protect their own.

Carlos’s final declaration echoed through the room: “NO, YOU CAN’T PROTECT HIM FOREVER! I WILL SEE HIM IN IMOLA!”

And so, for the next 30 minutes, the room buzzed with attempts to calm Carlos’s fiery rage.

**********************************************

Bonus (+)

“Oh, look at her. It seems our pretty girl fell asleep,” Lana gently informed Lewis. Throughout the night, he had subtly shifted her chair closer and closer to him until, finally, she succumbed to slumber in his arms.

Kim, ever considerate, asked, “Should we help you get her to the car?” Lewis’s gentle response came, “It would be very sweet if you could help me get her to her hotel room.”

And so it happened—the iconic picture of Lewis Hamilton carrying a sleeping Amira Sainz, flanked by Lana Del Rey and Kim Kardashian, became an internet sensation.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Not now, not ever - Lewis Hamilton

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

summary: Having her pressed to him brought back how important she's been to keep him grounded.

warnings: Angst, Mercedes 2024, Monza 21'.

wordcount: +1K

a/n: Hello everyone, I felt like angsty was in order. Sorry to bring that accident 😶, but yeah, hope you guys enjoy it!

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

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Defeated and exhausted, that was Lewis scotched in his airplane seat with you tangled in his arms, asleep beside him. The flight back to the UK after a disastrous Japanese Grand Prix held all the weight of the race, the frustration of the poor performance, and the uncertainty of his future with Mercedes weighing heavily on him.

Gently cradling you in his arms, Lewis pressed his face into your hair, breathing in your scent, finding solace in the familiarity and warmth of your presence. His fingers lightly traced the contours of your back, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his chest. Holding you like this; he felt a fleeting moment of peace amidst the storm of emotions and uncertainties that surrounded him. He whispered softly, barely audible above the hum of the airplane engine, " Thank you for always being there for me, even when I'm at my lowest”

He held you close, drawing comfort from your presence, knowing that whatever happened, you had been through much worse and had always stood strong together. As he looked down to your sleeping figure, the scene brought back a nagging memory on repeat, a night back in 2021, when you had comforted him after a nightmare. Now, as much as back then, you were his anchor, his safe haven amidst the chaos and uncertainty.

You were jolted awake when his entire body lurched, causing him to drop you abruptly onto the mattress. His breathing was rapid, coming out in sharp puffs as he hid his face in his hands, his shoulders tense under your arms as you held him from behind. You waited patiently, holding him until his breathing began to even out. Eventually, he turned to you, fear evident in his eyes. Without a word, you pulled him into your embrace, running your fingers through his braids and soothing the tension in his arms.

You had never seen that happen to him – that nightmarish episode that left a haunting impression. It had been two days from the crash with Verstappen in Monza. You'd traveled with him to NYC under the pretense of having an important. No one knew about the two of you yet. A few stolen moments here and there, and nights tangled in each other were all you had. He returned to his penthouse almost at dawn after the Met Gala, quietly ushering you from the bedroom you were occupying to his own bed. His friends, drunk from the after party, were oblivious to the fact that your supposed meeting was just a cover-up. The real reason you were there was that you couldn't bear to be apart from him after that crash.

Hours seemed to pass without either of you uttering a single word. The mere press of each other’s bodies was enough to ground you both. By the time Daniel knocked on the door to let him know they were headed out and assumed you hadn’t spent the night, it was well past noon. Little did he know, you had been there the whole time and would continue to be there for the rest of the day.

Lewis had witnessed similar episodes with you, most often triggered by situations related to Ayrton. Sometimes it manifested as restlessness, with you tossing and turning in bed. But on other occasions, it was far more severe. You'd wake up cold, tears streaming down your face, a scream caught in your throat, and a deafening ringing in your ears.

When these episodes occurred, Lewis knew exactly what to do. He would hold you tightly, his fingers lightly tracing your skin and scalp, while he repeated reassuring words over and over. And when you finally became aware of your surroundings, he'd listen attentively as you spoke about whatever had triggered the nightmare, comforting you until you fell back asleep in his arms.

As the sun began to set, casting a hauntingly beautiful golden hue through the penthouse windows, you went to find some food, Lewis hot on your feet, taking any opportunity to find himself wrapped in your arms. His arms securely around you, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back as you leaned into him even while you waited for the stove to warm up the takeout from the previous night. The events of the day had left both of you emotionally drained, the scars of the past resurfacing with a vengeance.

The weight of the nightmare and fear of the unknown had taken its toll on both of you. The emotional strain was palpable, the shadows of past traumas lingering in the corners of your minds, waiting to strike when least expected. "You don't have to go through this alone, you know," you whispered, your voice filled with genuine concern. "I'm always here for you, no matter what."

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude, love, and pain. "And I'm here for you" his voice softly reassuring you “Always."

Lewis smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He pulled you closer to him, cherishing the moment of fragile peace and understanding between you. The bond you shared was unique, built on trust, understanding, and unconditional love. Despite the challenges and nightmares that sometimes haunted your nights, the love and support you provided each other were unwavering.

As night fell, Lewis led you back to the bedroom, ensuring you were comfortable and safe before joining you in bed. He held you close, his presence a constant source of comfort and reassurance. You drifted off to sleep, protected and loved in the arms that secured you so tightly.

Lewis remained awake; his gaze fixed on your peaceful sleeping face. The haunting memories of the accident with Verstappen in Monza played in his mind, and a shiver ran down his spine as he thought about how close it had come to being his end.

His thoughts were consumed by the accident, the fear of losing you, and the nightmares that had been haunting both of you. The emotional strain was palpable, and tears welled up in his eyes as he continued to watch you sleep, his mind tormented by the events of the past and the shadows of the traumas you both had endured.

The room was silent except for the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing. Lewis leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead, his heart aching with love and fear. He whispered words of love and reassurance, hoping that somehow, you could feel his presence and know that he would always be there for you.

He tightened his grip around you, pulling you closer as if trying to protect you from the world and the nightmares. His mind was filled with what-ifs and worst-case scenarios, the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future pressing down on him.

"We almost lost it all," he whispered to himself, his voice choked with emotion. "Gosh, I can't lose you, not now, not ever."

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hiiii

Can you make another Alastor x Rarity reader like I love it sm and I need more 😭😭❤️

If you do thank youuuu

I definitely can! My dear @sillyalastor, here will be yours and @nenerobobot’s post for Rarity-reader and Al! I hope you both like our kinda short follow up to the Radio Demon and his Drama Queen!

Alastor- Diamond Trio

Alastor knows how much of a detail-orientated and fussy woman you are, and he knows fashion colours, stitching processes, habits, facts and more on the top of his head. He knows what is considered eggshell white and what is considered ivory white. That’s how much time he spends with you

Alastor has been teaching you some new recipes, ones that get a bit messy. Whilst, you’re very worried about getting food on you and is wearing about five layers of protection each time you cook with him. He finds it cute and cheers you on for you being so precise and careful with the measurements. You’ll stand there for five minutes making sure the water percentage is just perfect and he thrives off that

Alastor is not a fan of you being friends with any of the Overlords except Rosie, so when he finds out, you befriended a fellow fashionista Velvette. He is supportive of your wishes but he is glaring down Velvette and threatening her behind your back to not hurt you or he’ll hurt her. Needless to say… Al’s protective and he doesn’t tolerate any of your friends trying to ruin your spirits or your work

So that means, if anybody rejects your outfit choice and creation you made for them, even politely. Alastor will hunt them down. You’re generous and you should be praised for that generosity. Alastor takes everything you give him, if he doesn’t like it, he’ll merely ask for some additions. He won’t ever demand a new outfit or item

Now. How did you and Alastor meet, you ask? You met him at a grand gala. It mainly consisted of Overlords but some Sinners can be invited and you were one of those rare sinners brought over to this incredible party

Alastor had been quite intrigued by you, the moment he saw you. A gorgeous, classy, sophisticated sinner dressed in the most pretty, regal maroon pink dress he has ever seen. You had attended this ‘best night ever’ party in hopes to find your prince, the man of your dreams and when you ran into a prissy but handsome Overlord that screamed prince-like grace, you immediately latched onto him. Unaware that you’re actual prince is the one Overlord all the guests avoided like the plague

Alastor couldn’t bring himself to just ignore the only shining jewel within this boring, prim and proper high-class party. He was so uninterested that he only got entertainment, out of talking to his dear friend, Rosie. So after some quick consideration, he begun to secretly follow you and your… date around the large palace hosting this gala. He was curious on what you’d do and the disgust he felt over this Overlord acting so uncharming and so harsh to a sweet lady such as yourself. He doesn’t tolerate women of radiance being disrespected

Alastor is so glad that you finally put your foot down after all the treatment: that ‘Prince’ of a Overlord making you pay for treats, making you give up the cushion seat, taking your rose for himself, making you throw your gorgeous silky-fabric shawl over a puddle so neither of you would slip. No gentleman should treat his lady this way and his blood is boiling in pure disgust at his fellow Overlord. The final straw is when that Overlord used you as a shield to block off the pretty strawberry icing cheesecake that came flying at the pair of you

Alastor watched from the sidelines with much pride and respect, over you talking that Overlord down and proclaiming he is a royal pain but of course, that ‘prince’ only cared about his looks and was scared of you drenched in the cake. Shaking off some of the cake on your dress, hair and face to get it onto the Overlord, out of raw rage. You ended up stomping out of the main big dance ballroom, furious and on the verge of crying. Leaving that ‘date’ of yours behind

Alastor couldn’t stop himself from following you. He was curious how a pretty mid-atlantic accented lady would handle being humiliated and having lashed out against her ‘date’ in front of almost ALL of the guests in the Gala. Your pretty sparkly almost diamond-like eyes poured tears, smudging your nice mascara and light blue eyeshadow as you stomped into the pretty empty gardens and cried out your rage

Oh. Alastor didn’t like seeing somebody so innocent and done no wrong mistreated like this. Even if it was amusing, he doesn’t like it

So, he finally approaches you after a few seconds of watching you vent out your feelings through sobs. His strong sharp crimson red eyes going from your forehead golden crown to the glass plumps to the still damp shawl tied around your shoulders in a classy princess style. You’re the most beautiful guest at this sorry excuse of a Gala. Alastor folds one arm behind his back, his own gala-style black, white and red coloured suit making his red and black colouration pop as he presents you with a rose

“I believe this is yours, my dear” Your glassy eyes turned over to look at him, the almost folded, multi-layers of your dress hugging your curves and hiding your leg movements as it just felt like this night went from the worst to the best. Is this the actual gentleman you’ve always wanted?! Gently reaching out, you’re a bit intimidated by how strong his glare is, how visible his golden yellow fangs are through that wide open grin, with how menacing his long fingers are

Taking the still stemmed rose from Alastor, you didn’t even know his name but you wished you did… you are a bit scared he may be a fake like that awful Overlord you were chasing after just before but he seems friendly enough. Alastor lifts up your hands with his single one, precisely placing the rose into your prettily curled and tied up hair, just above your bangs before speaking once more. His entire presence leaking charm, grace and poise

“Shall we dance?”

You were a bit shy, still drenched in destroyed layered cake batter but Alastor didn’t even chuckle at how ruined your clean, neat look is now. He merely snaps his fingers and like that, all the sweet confectionery remains are gone and all the ruffled, ripped or knotted parts of your dress and hair is smoothed out to perfection, as well as your slightly wet shawl back to being completely dry and your makeup returned to more presentable. Just like how you looked when you entered this Gala and when Alastor first saw you. Taking a deep breath, your cheeks flustered and blushy

You take his hand and with a single tug, you and him are dancing together in the calm, breezy, beautiful gardens of the giant gala palace, no music, no other prissy annoying guests. Just the plants, the animals and you two

Your eyes are no long filled to the brim with tears, anger and heartbreak. You’re now developing a sense of admiration and awe at Alastor being so gentlemanly and sweet with you in seconds flat, he’s treating you the way you wanted that blueblood ass to treat you and it’s making your heart flutter. Twirling slowly in a nice slow steady waltz, the only music ringing is the sound of the nearby birds singing

That night was the best night ever

[minarisplaything]

Gala Gal ft. Blackpink Rosé

pairing: Rosé x male reader rating: Explicit wordcount: 2.8k prompt: a young journalist gets a chance of a lifetime with Rosé at a recent event.

Being a writer for a celebrity magazine has its advantages, such as getting to attend grand events like the Cannes Film Festival, or in this case, the MET Gala. Now you might think, where's the fun or excitement in that? A bunch of rich people dressed in overpriced clothing and posing on the red carpet while you have to ask them redundant questions that no one truly cares about outside a small niche of fans.

That is a reasonable question to ask, and a fair point to make. Hell, there are times when you wonder to yourself just how legitimate of a job this is. You certainly hear that question from your parents enough. But the answer to all of those questions comes from the woman currently walking towards you.

"Thank you for your time," you say to the current girl in front of you.

You have been interviewing some girl who is apparently 'the next Olivia Rodrigo,' which is a wild title to have, but you digress. As you bid her good-bye, a sudden chorus of "Rosé! Rosé over here!" erupts from the group of photographers, followed by a series of flashing light bulbs.

Your eyes flick over to the red carpet area near you to see none other than the 26-year-old starlet, Roseanne Park. Otherwise known as Rosé from Blackpink.

You have never crossed paths with her at any events you have covered; which you just toss up to bad luck or god punishing you for some crime you can’t remember. Either way, it seems like you will finally be getting your chance. Judging from this distance, she is just as beautiful as she appears in all her photos.

Her blonde hair is flowing down her back while loose bangs frame her face as she smiles for the camera. She is wearing a black dress that is form-fitting at the top, held together by two thin straps, and flares outwards at the waist. Frankly, she looks stunning. It is a classy dress that still manages to spark arousal in you. Though, you will keep that last part to yourself.

It is only a few moments later that you have to compose yourself as the press woman directs Rosé towards your vicinity. Adjusting your stance, and growing erection, you cough and put on a friendly smile as she walks over.

"Hi, I'm with Eros Magazine," you introduce yourself, managing to remain composed.

"Rosie, it’s nice to meet you," she says sweetly. She is even more beautiful up close, and that smile is practically paralyzing. Given that you don't trust your tongue at the moment, you decide to keep it simple.

"So how are you tonight?" you question, knowing how many times she must have answered it already.

"I'm great! It's a little cold tonight, but I'm excited to be here," she starts in her accented voice. "I love the Museum of Arts and supporting a good cause is always great. There are so many beautiful dresses and people here. So it's all feeling great right now!" she says, remaining smiling and bubbly throughout her answer.

For your part, you merely nod your head and smile, holding the recorder up to get every word. You go through the litany of typical red carpet questions: what projects are you working on, how's the music coming; all the typical things you could hand in to your editor when a story is due. You can see the press woman getting antsy though. Typical. Figuring you only have one or two questions left, you decide to venture out a bit.

"So, you're going to be going on tour again soon, that must be exciting..."

"It is! You're actually the first one to bring that up all night," she says, a hint of surprise in her voice.

"I do like to do my homework beforehand," you joke with a grin before continuing, "That being said, how do you manage to have fun and unwind? Even at these events, you have to keep a certain image, right?"

Rosé is quiet at first, and for a moment, she glances around as if to check that the coast is clear before she answers, "Oh, you know the girls and I find out ways to have fun. And this is actually my third year at the Gala, so I’ve found the little tricks and ways to have some fun."

There is something about the way she looks at you as she speaks that screams there is more than meets the eye to her words. Maybe it is the coy tone to her voice or the glint in her eye as she smiles. Whatever it is, you suddenly find yourself wondering exactly what ‘some fun' entails.

"By the way," Rosé says, interrupting your thoughts, "Eros Magazine...as in the Greek word for erotic love?"

Again she fixes you with that mischievous grin.

"Uh — yeah. Nice catch," you stammer, causing her to giggle.

"I like it" she says, a look you can’t read in her eye. Before you can ask anything further, the press woman begins to nudge her on to the next reporter. "It was nice meeting you."

"You too, have a good one," you reply, watching her intently as she walks away.

If that is your first and last interaction with the K-pop star, then you can say it has been interesting if nothing else. You get the feeling there is more to that little minx than meets the eye, you are only disappointed that you’d likely never get the chance to delve a bit further.

Covering the event means that you gain access to the party but hardly anyone does any real reporting. After all, these kinds of events are meant for the rich and famous.  To cement their status as celebrities, they then sneak off inside to where they can have their fun. For the most part, you reporters stay together, talk, and drink the free liquor that is available.

You expect your night will be spent at the bar, winding your time down until it reaches an acceptable time to call it a night. But first things first, if you are going to be here on the company dime, you might as well get your money's worth.

"I've been looking for you all night!"

You are in the middle of ordering yet another drink when a familiar accented voice reaches your ears. Turning in your stool, you lay your eyes on Roseanne Park for the second time tonight, only this time there is something a little more...loose to her demeanor. You get an explanation when you spot the glass in her hands and briefly wonder how many she had at this point.

"Me? You must be confused," you say, both amused, curious, and a bit confused, "I don't think anyone at this party has said I’m wanted."

"Well, you are!" she says, smiling as she moves towards you, "And now that I've found you, I have something to show you."

"Don't you have famous friends to entertain?" you question more than protest as she places her drink on the bar and takes your hand.

You catch a glimpse of a hint of a pout on her features, "Don’t worry, they’re occupied." Again, there is that suggestion that something more is going on. Of course, there is the very realistic possibility that your mind is just running away with crazy, erotic theories. But that potential doesn’t stop you from being any more turned on by the thought. Coupled with the fact that Rosé is dragging you through a gala to god-knows-where and you are practically dreaming. In that moment, she could take you to hell for all you care.

"You're going to love it, trust me," she assures, looking back at you as she continues leading.

"Oh, I’m sure," you reply. Your mind is racing with things from a blow job to taking her from behind, so needless to say, you are a bit disappointed when she stops at your destination.

"A photo booth?" you ask, a bit amused at how silly it seems.

Rosé is either undeterred or doesn’t register your lack of enthusiasm as she simply nods, still smiling and pulling you into the booth.

“It's fun! Come on," the blonde insists, pulling you by the hand into the photo booth. Judging by the size of it, the booth is clearly an afterthought to the gala planners, or maybe it just isn’t meant for two people at the same time to occupy it. You do your best to squeeze yourself in so she can close the curtain behind you. To your surprise, Rosé neatly slides onto your lap, her perfect, tight ass sitting right on top of where your hard-on has been growing for the last couple of minutes.

"Alright, so it takes six photos then prints them out there," she points to the deposit box under the screen. She either doesn't feel the bulge pressing firmly against her ass, or she is very good at playing naive.

"Okay," you nod, as if you are bothering to pay any attention to the pictures. 

As she shimmies on your lap to get into a better position, you decide to be bold and snake your arm around her slim waist, only to receive no complaints from the pop star. A countdown shows up on the screen, and when it says CHEESE, Rosé throws her arms around you, smiling openly as you try and fail not to look too bewildered. The screen replays your photo, and you can’t help but laugh at your own expense.

"Not bad," you grin, as the counter starts for the second photo.

"Not bad, but I think we can do better!" she says with a determined look on her face. When the screen says CHEESE again, Rosé suddenly leans over and licks the side of your face. You are so surprised you don't know how you react until the photo replays.

"Oh my god! That's great!" Rosé laughs.

You take the next few photos in the same fashion, going for ridiculous and silly in each one. After every photo, Rosé would shift her weight on your lap, rubbing against your erection each time. You are certain that she has to be well aware of what she is doing, and by the time the countdown for the last photo appears, you have made up your mind.

When the screen flashes, you turn Rosé's head to you and push your lips flush against hers. To your surprise, it takes less than half a second for her to respond, her hands moving up to cup your face. You kiss passionately like that until the simple need for air breaks you apart.

"I was starting to think all my work was for nothing," she says, a devilish grin on her face.

You raise an eyebrow at her; apparently, all your theories have just been confirmed. "You planned all this then?"

"I told you we know how to have our fun at these things," she comments, twirling a strand of hair in her finger.

"We?"

Mischief gleams in her gaze for a moment, “Maybe later. I know you’re a reporter, but you shouldn’t ask too many questions.”

She places a delicate finger to your lips as she gets up off your lap. The low ceiling of the booth doesn't allow her to stand up fully, but she doesn't have to as she crouches and reaches under her dress and begins pulling down her panties. "Fuck...these things are definitely ruined. I practically soaked them."

Her comment is more to herself than you, but your cock only grows harder at the revelation. You watch as she slides her thong down past her ankles, and her eyes fall to your crotch. With nimble fingers, she works on your button and zipper, springing free your aching cock.

 "Oh wow..." she mutters, eyeing it with an animalistic hunger. "I would love to wrap my lips around that..."

"You're more than welcomed to," you groan, starting to get that sense of teasing with the amount of anticipation that is building. You are tempted to just force her head onto your cock, but you stop short when she speaks.

"Later. We don't have a lot of time."

Your disappointment at that statement is short-lived as she stands again and turns around. Rosé lifts her skirt and hovers over your lap. Grabbing hold of your member, you let out a groan as she positions it at her entrance, rubbing it for a second in her dripping juices. Unable to hold out, you thrust your hips slightly upward, causing your tip to pierce her folds.

"Mmm, somebody's anxious," she purrs, her accent coming out thick.

"Can you fucking blame me?" you say through gritted teeth, reaching out to grab her waist. Before you can yank her down, she beats you to it and spears herself on your rod. "Oh fuck," you let out, feeling how tight her petite body is.

"God, you feel fucking amazing," you mutter into her shoulder.

"Ah~...and you're...much bigger than you look," she says, clearly trying to adjust to the size she just filled herself with in one go. Apparently, the discomfort isn't so bad as she soon begins lifting and dropping herself on your cock slowly. "Try not—ooh— to get too loud," she moans out, her ass rocking against you.

"Speak for yourself," you grunt, your hands gripping her waist firmly as you start to move your hips to match the movement of hers.

You can't wrap your head around the fact that you're fucking a member of one of the most famous girl groups in the world in a photobooth at a gala with hundreds of celebrities. Thankfully, you don't need to wrap your head around it, as long as you keep fucking her. With that in mind, you take control of the pace, gripping her waist and forcing yourself up into her. Each time you spear her pussy, it's like another piece of heaven. Her pussy is squeezing you like there's no tomorrow, only increasing the pleasure you get with each thrust.

"Shit, yes, yes! Fuck me," Rosé chants in a loud whisper as she puts her hand on the console to steady herself as you thrust up into her.

"God, you're fucking tight," you moan, continuing to pound her Australian pussy. "Someone could look in here at any second."

"Oooh, I know," she lets out a shuddering breath.

"You're getting off on that, aren't you?" you continue the dirty talk, sliding a strap off her shoulder so you can push her top down to fondle her pert breast.

"Yes, yes! It fucking turns me on," Rosé pants.

For a moment, you fear she has given you away, but you're too far gone to truly care at this point. Her hands slide down the console, and you're only aware of what happens when the shutter of the camera makes you look up. Looking over Rosé's shoulder as she bounces up and down, you see your photo displayed, Rosé's mouth opened in pleasure.

Grinning to yourself, you increase the speed of your thrusts, determined to get her orgasm face by the last photo.

"OH!" she squeals, surprised by your sudden turn of action. "Oh fuck, right there. Keep going," she pants, her hand covering yours and holding it firmly against her breast.

You squeeze firmly, shoving every inch of your meat deep into her snatch. Her lithe body arches back into you. She's panting heavily, each thrust causing her to take a sharp breath. You turn her head towards you and kiss her, her hand gripping the back of your head. It's sloppy and passionate, perfectly fitting the current heated moment that is occurring.

"I'm close. I'm so fucking close," Rosé chants, continuing to grip your head as she moves her hips to yours.

A few moments later, you have to cover her mouth with your hand as she shrieks her orgasm. Her walls clench around you as she comes, her juices flooding your cock.

"I'm going to cum," you warn, knowing you aren't going to last through her orgasm.

"Mmmph," Rosé says, until you remove your hand, "In me! Cum inside me!"

You don't take a second to question it, instead thrusting your hips upward, your cock pushing into her one last time as you empty rope after rope of your seed into her womb. You continue unloading into the star for what seems like eternity until you both finally collapse in the booth. Her body heaves on top of yours as she tries to catch her breath.

"I don't think I've ever cum that hard before," you pant, causing the Blackpink singer to giggle.

"Don't speak too soon," she says, leaning back and kissing you softly on the lips. Thinking of what she could have planned only causes your cock to twitch inside her with anticipation.

One thing is for certain: this girl certainly knows how to have fun.

BUY ME A COFFEE - if you enjoy my stories considering buying me a coffee! always appreciated, never required.

[onlyangel4]

miss americana & the heartbreak prince. lh44. smau.

lewis hamilton x wife!reader

reader and lewis have always been fashion icons. so when the news about lewis moving to ferrari leaks reader decides to add some colour to her wardrobe

faceclaim: megan fox

author's note: we visit the future in this one first post comes from the announcement earlier this year and everything following is end of 2024 season to the 2025 season.

taylor swift series masterlist.

scuderiaferrari

liked by lewishamilton, y/nhamilton, user1 and 2,300,231 others

scuderiaferrari: team Statement: scuderia ferrari is pleased to announce that lewis hamilton will be joining the team in 2025, on a multi-year contract.

view all 150,922 comments

user1: holy shit i bet toto is so mad

user2: oh my god, the y/n fits are going to go insane

user3: i'm new to the fandom what is the significance with y/n's outfits

user2: ever since her and lewis got married, three years ago, she only attends races and events in mercedes colours, grey, black, white, silver and green

user4: i was not expecting this announcement so early

user5: this makes me so sad for carlos

y/nhamiltonlover

liked by user10, user11, user12 and 32,483 others

y/nhamiltonlover: as it is the end of lewis' merecedes era i wanted to look back at my fav of y/n's mercedes outfits.

the first ever mercedes outfit at the first grand prix after their wedding back in 2021

y/n on the red carpet for a film premiere this is when she confirmed that all her outfits were taking inspiration from her husband's racing team

last year's met gala look, my all time fav y/n outfit

y/n on the cover of vogue, this suit is so gorgeous i love it so much

view all 1,202 comments

user10: i forgot about that met gala look omg

user11: i'm looking forward to all the red and maybe some yellow

user12: fingers crossed for a blue look for miami again

y/nlh44updates

liked by user6, user7, user8 and 23,418 others

y/nlh44updates: guys lewis' contract with mercedes finished last week and we have just gotten our first matching ferrari coded outfit, the red is small but knowing y/n it has to be purposeful.

view all 561 comments

user6: power couple fr

user7: they look so fucking good

user8: i can't wait to see the paddock fits etc

user9: red at the met gala this year?

metgalaupdates

liked by user13, user14, user15 and 230,117 others

metgalaupdates: racing power couple lewis and y/n hamilton have arrived at the met and they are our top vote for the hottest couple on the carpet. y/n is wearing ferrari red signifying her husband's move to the italian team and lewis is in a stunning all black number, both husband and wife are wearing matching gold jewelry pieces.

view all 2,178 comments

user13: oh this is my fav look of the night so far, that red dress is so gorgeous

user14: i called it, red at the met is such a good statement

user15: i don't really know much about either of them but i do know that they are both fucking gorgeous

y/nupdates posted a story

written: holy shit everyone thought y/n was going to arrive to australia qualifying in red, turns out she dyed her hair red instead. she is insane i love it

thehamiltonsfashion

liked by user17, user18, user19 and 27,511 others

thehamiltonsfashion: it is race day in australia and once again the hamiltons are the best dressed y/n is showing off the red hair in a two piece suit and skirt combo and lewis was spotted in a jacket that matches y/n's hair perfectly.

view all 1,721 comments

user17: i know that the red hair will be gone next week but it looks so good

user18: him matching his jacket perfectly to her hair is such husband material

user19: ugh i love them

y/nhamilton posted a story

written: today's outfit

lewishamilton posted a story

written: matching my wife again

thehamiltonsfashion posted a story

written: it finally happened! y/n has arrived to the miami grand prix wearing the exact same shade of blue as what the drivers are in this week. i am so obsessed with her ability to match her husband every single week.

y/nhamiltonlover

liked by y/nhamilton, user20, user21, user23 and 340,226 others

y/nhamiltonlover: it is the end of the 2025 season and i just wanted to celebrate all of the red looks that mother hs given us this year. i just love her so much she is the most fashionable wag for sure, i can't wait for another year of red.

view all 16,444 comments

y/nhamilton: aww thank you darling, i am so glad you enjoyed the looks from this year

y/nhamiltonlover: omg today is the best day ever i love you so much, this means so much to me

user20: i loved the week where she decided to just wear team merch, like relatable queen sometimes you just want to be comfy

user21: the red suits always hit different

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[23victoria]

Love in the Dark ❀

toxic!charles leclerc x actress!reader

summary: charles and y/n are hollywoods it couple!! they have the most perfect relationship….right?…

warnings: cheating, toxic relationship, cussing, sad, angsty

authors note: i love Adele and was listening to love in the dark and then this happened! not sure if this is good or not but oh well. sorry if your name is emily, jenna, lisa, or alex!! sorry if there’s any typos I’m too tired to check. any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

f1 masterlist

Now

As the flashing lights of the cameras illuminated the grand entrance to the Met Gala, you and Charles stepped onto the red carpet hand in hand. The paparazzi clamored for your attention, shouting your names and urging you and him to pose for the cameras. You smiled gracefully, your arm linked with Charles', as you navigated the crowd with practiced ease.

You paused for a few photos, your faces lit with the glow of the paparazzi's flashes. Then, you were ushered into an interview with Vogue, where you both were asked about your respective careers and your relationship. You spoke eloquently about your latest film projects, while Charles discussed his passion for racing in Formula One.

When the interviewer turned the conversation towards your relationship, your smile faltered slightly. You glanced at Charles, who squeezed your hand reassuringly as he answered questions about your dynamic as a couple. But just as you were about to move on, another reporter interjected.

"Y/N, what's your opinion on the rumors that Charles is sleeping with another woman named Alex?" the reporter asked, her tone accusatory.

Your heart skipped a beat, your smile fading completely. You felt a surge of anger and betrayal, but you managed to maintain your composure. Ignoring the question, you simply brushed past the reporter, your grip on Charles' hand tightening.

As you continued up the steps, the tension between you two was palpable. You could feel the weight of the unspoken accusation hanging in the air, and it was suffocating. Finally reaching the top of the steps, you move to a secluded area, pulling your hand away from Charles, your expression stormy.

"I need a moment," you muttered, your voice tight with emotion, before turning and striding towards the nearest bathroom.

Charles followed after you, concern etched on his face. "Y/N, wait. What's wrong?"

You spun around, your eyes flashing with anger. "Don't you dare play dumb, Charles. I heard what that reporter said. Is it true? Are you sleeping with Alex? Your fucking ex-girlfriend?!"

Charles's eyes widened in shock, his hands reaching out to grasp yours. "Baby, no. I swear, I not in contact with her. I swear. I don't know what they're talking about."

You shook your head, your frustration boiling over. "How can I believe you, Charles? This isn't the first time rumors like this have surfaced. And this wouldn’t be the first fucking time you’ve cheated on me! Or have you forgotten the countless of fucking times you’ve cheated on me? Cause I fucking didn’t! I'm tired of constantly defending our relationship against these “accusations” when I know some of them can be true and probably fucking are, knowing you!"

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you turned away, unable to bear the sight of him. "I need some space, Charles. I need to clear my head."

"Baby, please, Y/N, don't shut me out," Charles pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I love you. I’m not doing anything with Alex. I promise."

But you were already slipping into the bathroom, the heavy door closing behind you with a resounding thud. Alone in the dimly lit space, you leaned against the sink, your hands trembling with emotion. You didn't know what to believe anymore. All you knew was that your heart felt heavy with doubt and fear, and you weren't sure if it could take much more.

2019

You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting your gown for the premiere. The dress was exquisite, shimmering under the lights of the spacious dressing room. But the excitement of the movie premiere was overshadowed by a dull ache in your chest. You glanced at your phone, hoping for a supportive message from Charles. Instead, there were no new messages, just the last text from him hours ago: "Have fun tonight, babe."

You sighed, trying to push the negative thoughts aside. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration of your hard work, your success. As a movie star, premieres were your chance to shine, but lately, even your brightest moments felt dimmed by the shadow of your relationship with Charles.

Their relationship had started like a whirlwind romance from one of her films. He was charming, attentive, and seemed genuinely in awe of her. She remembered their first date vividly: a moonlit dinner on the beach, where they talked for hours about their dreams and aspirations. He had seemed perfect, too perfect. But as time passed, the cracks began to show.

The first time you caught him cheating was with his ex-girlfriend, Emily. You had been together for about a year then. You had come home early from a shoot, excited to surprise him. Instead, you found Emily's clothes strewn across their living room and the two of them tangled in each other on the couch.

"Charles, what the fuck is this?" You had shouted, your voice trembling with a mix of shock and rage.

He had scrambled to his feet, his face pale. "Y/N, I...I can explain."

Emily had quickly gathered her things and left, leaving the two of them in an awkward silence. He had fallen to his knees, tears streaming down his face. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. It was a mistake. I was fucking stupid. Please, please forgive me."

You had wanted to walk out right then, but something in his voice, his tear-filled eyes, made you stay. You guys talked for hours, and eventually, you had forgiven him. He promised it would never happen again, and you had believed him. But deep down, a seed of doubt was planted.

2021

A few years later, it happened again. This time, it was with one of your friends, Jenna. They had been at a party, celebrating the end of finals. You had gone to get drinks, and when you returned, you found them in a secluded corner, kissing passionately.

Your heart sank, and you felt a familiar wave of nausea. You confronted them right there, your voice shaking with anger. "What the fuck, Charles? Again? Jenna? How could you?"

Jenna had pulled away, looking guilty. "Y/N, I'm sorry. It just happened."

Charles had reached for you, but you stepped back. "Don't touch me."

He followed you outside, where you broke down in tears. "Why, Charles? Why the fuck do you keep doing this to me? I haven’t done anything to you?! What did I do to deserve this?! Huh?!? Nothing! I have done nothing but love you!! And this is how you repay me?!"

He had cried again, begging for forgiveness. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Y/N. I love you, I really do. Please, don't leave me."

Against your better judgment, you had forgiven him again. You loved him, or at least you thought you did. You wanted to believe that he could change, that your love was worth fighting for. But the doubts grew stronger.

2022

As your career took off, the strain on the relationship intensified. You were traveling more, spending long hours on set, and attending glamorous events. Charles seemed supportive at first, proud of your achievements. But then came the night of your first major award show.

He had promised to be there, to celebrate your success. But as the night wore on, there was no sign of him. After accepting your award, you went backstage, your excitement mingling with disappointment. You called him, but there was no answer.

When you finally got home, you found him with another woman, a co-worker named Lisa. This time, it wasn't just kissing. The betrayal was physical, tangible, and it broke something inside her.

You stood in the doorway, your hands trembling. "How could you do this to me, Charles? On the night of my biggest fucking achievement in my career? Why?! Why do you keep fucking doing this?! I don’t understand?! You said you would stop! You said you did stop!! So, why?!"

He had tried to explain, but you couldn't listen. You walked out, spending the night at a hotel, crying herself to sleep. The next morning, he was at your door, looking disheveled and remorseful.

"I fucked up. I fucked up again, Y/N. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I don't deserve you, but please, give me another chance. Please baby, don’t leave me. I love you. I need you."

You were exhausted, emotionally drained. But you loved him, or at least you thought you did. You took him back, hoping that this time, he would change. But the pattern was set, and the cycle continued.

2023

You found herself standing in your shared apartment again with nothing but pain and betrayal coursing through your body. Charles was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. He looked up as you entered, his eyes red and puffy. You found him cheating, again.

"Y/N, I'm so glad you came back. I've been going fucking crazy without you."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. "Charles, we need to talk."

He stood up, walking towards you. "I know, I know. Please, just hear me out."

"No, Charles. This time, you need to listen to me." Your voice was firm, but inside you was trembling.

He nodded, his expression desperate. "Okay, I'm listening."

"I can't do this anymore. This, this toxic fucking cycle of you cheating, apologizing, and me forgiving you—it has to stop. It's tearing me apart. It’s killing me."

Tears welled up in his eyes. "I know I've hurt you, Y/N I know I betrayed you. I know I’ve fucked up your trust in me and I’m sorry. I really am. But I can't lose you. I need you."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "Charles, you don't need me. You need to fix whatever is broken inside you. I can't, I can’t keep putting myself through this. It’s just pain, never ending pain. And I can’t do it anymore, I can’t, it hurts so much."

He grabbed your hands, holding them tightly. "Baby please. Please, Y/N. I love you. I love you so fucking much. I'm sick. I’m fucked up. I fucked up. And I know. I know I have a problem, but I can't do it alone. Please. If you love me, stay and help me. Please. I need you to help me get better. I need you."

Your heart ached. You had loved him for so long, but you also knew that you had to take care of yourself. "Charles, I can't be your savior. You have to want to change for yourself, not for me."

"I do, Y/N. I swear, I do. If you stay, I'll prove it to you. I'll be fully devoted to you. I'll show you how much I care. Please, mi cheríe, give me one last chance."

Your resolve was crumbling. Seeing him so vulnerable, so desperate, made you question everything. You wanted to believe him, to trust that he could change. You had invested so much of yourself into the relationship, hoping for a better future together.

"Charles, I..." you faltered, tears streaming down your face. "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

He fell to his knees, clutching your hands. "Please, Y/N. Don't give up on us. I know I've messed up, but I love you more than anything. If you stay, it will stop. I'll go to therapy, I'll do whatever it takes. Just please, please, stay with me. Help me become the man you deserve. Please"

Your heart ached at his plea. You had always been a nurturer, someone who wanted to help and heal. And here he was, begging for your support. Could you really turn your back on him when he was finally admitting he had a problem?

You knelt down beside him, your voice trembling. "Okay, Charles. I love you. I don't want to give up on us either. But this is your last chance. You need to get help. We can't keep living like this."

His face lit up with hope. "Thank you, baby. I promise, I'll make it right. I love you so much. I won't let you down again. I promise."

You wrapped your arms around him, both of you crying. It was a mix of relief and fear. You wanted so desperately to believe that this time would be different, that he would change. But a part of you still harbored doubt.

Now

Tonight, you were going to the premiere alone. Charles had promised to be there, but then he called, saying he had an important meeting with Ferrari. Another excuse, another disappointment. As the car drove you to the theater, you couldn't help but replay the last conversation in your mind.

"Charles, this is important to me," you had said, trying to keep you voice steady.

"I know, babe, and I'm really sorry. But this project at work is huge. I promise I'll make it up to you."

You had nodded, even though he couldn't see you. "Okay. Just...try to be there if you can."

"I will. Love you."

"Love you too," you had replied, but the words felt hollow.

The premiere was a success. Fans cheered, critics applauded, and you put on your best smile for the cameras. But inside, you felt empty. After the event, you decided to go home instead of attending the after-party. You needed to rest, to think.

As the car pulled up to the apartment building, you felt a familiar sense of dread. The feeling that something was wrong. You dismissed it, attributing it to your tiredness. But when you opened the door to the apartment, the sight that greeted you confirmed your worst fears.

Charles was in bed with his ex-girlfriend, Alex. The two of them were wrapped around each other, oblivious to your presence. For a moment, you just stood there, frozen. Then the reality of the situation hit you like a punch to the gut.

"I'm done," you whispered, more to yourself than to them.

Alex scrambled out of bed, grabbing her clothes and muttering apologies as she fled the apartment. Charles stood up, looking panicked. "Y/N, wait. I can explain."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. "No, Charles. I'm done. I can't do this anymore."

"Please, babe, don't leave. I swear, this was the last time. I love you."

But you couldn't listen to his excuses anymore. You walked out of the apartment, ignoring his pleas. You got into your car and drove, not knowing where you were going, just needing to get away. Your phone rang incessantly, but you didn't answer.

Finally, you pulled over to the side of the road, your vision blurred by tears. You answered the call, your voice shaking. "Stop calling me, Charles. I've had enough. I can't do this anymore. You hurt me, over and over again. You break me every time, and you enjoy it. I can't take it anymore."

"No, baby, please. Come back to me. I promise I'll change. I love you."

You hung up, throwing your phone onto the passenger seat. The rain was pouring down, making it hard to see the road. Your tears flowed freely, mixing with the rain on your cheeks. You felt a strange sense of relief, but also a deep sadness. You had finally broken free, but at what cost?

As you drove to your hotel, the rain became a torrential downpour. The night was dark, and you struggled to see through the windshield. Your thoughts were a chaotic mess, filled with years of suppressed pain and broken dreams.

You thought about the countless times Charles had betrayed you , each infidelity chipping away at your spirit. You remembered the first time you caught him with Emily, the gut-wrenching betrayal. Then there was Jenna, a friend who should have known better, and Lisa, a co-worker whose name still made you feel sick. And now Alex—another name added to the list of his indiscretions.

In the early years of their relationship, you had dreamed of marrying Charles, building a life together, and starting a family. Those dreams had felt so real, so within reach. But each betrayal had crushed a piece of your spirit, and with every apology, you had clung to the hope that he would change. The idea of marriage and children, once bright and hopeful, had faded into a distant fantasy.

You couldn't remember the last time you had truly felt happy. When was the last time you had smiled without forcing it, or felt loved without the shadow of doubt hanging over you? It felt like a lifetime ago. The vibrant, hopeful woman you once were had been replaced by someone who was merely surviving, stuck in a cycle of pain and disappointment.

You realized you had been living in the dark, loving him in the dark. You was trapped in a place where you were unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to live. Each day with Charles was a struggle to maintain the facade of happiness, to pretend that everything was okay. But inside, you were breaking.

The memories swirled around you, blurring your vision even more than the rain. The arguments, the tearful reconciliations, the empty promises—it all played out like a tragic film you couldn't turn off. You were exhausted from the constant heartache, the perpetual feeling of betrayal. Your mind was a storm of emotions, and you felt yourself slipping further into the abyss of despair.

Suddenly, you were jolted back to the present by a loud horn. You looked up, but it was too late. The blinding lights of the truck bore down on you. There was no time to react. The last thing you saw was the searing brightness, the last thing you heard was the deafening blare of the horn. Then, everything went black.

✿ .° • ✿ .° • ꨄ • °. ✿• °. ✿

Charles was sitting on the couch in the apartment, staring blankly at the messages he sent to you. The news was on, but he wasn't really watching. His mind was replaying the last conversation he had with you. He had been pleading with you, begging for another chance, but you had left. Now, the silence in the apartment was suffocating.

His phone rang, jolting him out of his thoughts. He glanced at the caller ID and saw that it was an unknown number. Reluctantly, he answered.

"Hello?"

"Is this Charles Leclerc?" a stern voice asked.

"Yes, this is he," Charles replied, his heart pounding in his chest.

"This is Officer Daniels from the New York Police Department. I’m calling about Y/N L/N."

Charles's breath caught in his throat. "What about her? Is she okay?"

There was a pause on the other end, and Charles felt his stomach drop. "I'm sorry to inform you that Y/N was involved in a car accident tonight. She didn't survive."

The words hit him like a physical blow. "No," he whispered, shaking his head as if he could will the news away. "No, that can't be true. She can't be... she can't be gone."

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Leclerc," the officer said. "We need you to come down to the station to identify her belongings and make arrangements."

Charles's phone slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor. "No, no, no, no!" he screamed, his voice breaking. He buried his face in his hands, his body wracked with sobs. "Please, God, no! I'm sorry, Y/N! I'm so sorry!"

He fell to his knees, clutching his chest as if the pain could be physically removed. "Y/N, please come back! I'm sorry! This is all my fault. If I hadn't hurt you, if I had been better... please, come back to me!"

His cries echoed through the empty apartment. Memories of you flooded his mind: you laughter, you smile, the way you looked at him with so much love and trust. He had destroyed all of that, and now you were gone. The weight of his actions crashed down on him, a tidal wave of regret and guilt.

Charles crawled to the couch, collapsing against it. He clutched a pillow, sobbing uncontrollably. "Y/N, baby, I'm so sorry. I love you. Please, come back. I can't live without you. I'm nothing without you."

The realization that he would never see you again, never hear your voice, never hold you, was unbearable. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of his own making, the pain and sorrow suffocating him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into the emptiness. "I'm so, so sorry."

He stayed there for what felt like hours, lost in his grief. The world outside continued on, oblivious to his pain. The woman he loved, the one he had hurt so many times, was gone forever. And all he could do was cry and beg for forgiveness that would never come.

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[d-targaryenshoe]

Carpets and Gala's - Luke Thompson

Word Count: 907

Summary: Who said Met Gala's weren't special when you had the most special person by your side, right?

The bustling streets of New York City were filled with excitement and anticipation as the stars gathered for the highly anticipated 2024 Met Gala.

Cameras flashed and crowds of fans screamed as celebrities walked the red carpet, dressed in their finest designer gowns and suits.

Among the many A-listers making their grand entrance, there was you, known for your breakout role in the hit show Bridgerton, and your boyfriend, Luke Thompson.

As you made your way towards the entrance of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, all eyes were on the both of you, causing a frenzy among the fans in the street when Luke held up the train of your dress.

"I can't believe they're here!" exclaimed one fan, snapping a photo of the couple with her phone, as you waved towards her and made them scream harder.

"I had no idea they were dating, they look so perfect together!" gushed another fan, trying to get a better view of you.

You and Luke smiled and waved at the fans before making your way up the grand staircase and onto the red carpet, where you were immediately surrounded by reporters and interviewers.

"Y/n! Luke! Over here!' shouted the reporters, vying for your attention.

You were dressed in a stunning silver gown, and Luke, looking dapper in a grey tuxedo, happily obliged as you made your way through the crowd.

"Congratulations on your debut appearance as a couple, you two look stunning tonight!" one reporter exclaimed, holding out her microphone for you to speak.

"Thank you so much, it's an honor to be here at the Met Gala with Luke by my side," You beamed, looking at your boyfriend with a loving smile.

"It's a night to remember," Luke added, wrapping his arm around your waist.

As you both continued to make your way down the red carpet, you stopped to talk to more reporters and take photos with fans.

It was a dream come true for you since you had always wanted to attend the Met Gala and you were grateful to have Luke with you on this special night.

"Can you give us a sneak peek into what fans can expect from Bridgerton season 3?" one interviewer asked, causing your eyes to light up.

"I can't reveal too much, but let's just say there will be lots more of romance and a special carriage ride." You teased, much to the delight of the fans.

As you both finally reached the end of the red carpet, you and Luke were met by the host of the evening, the talented and hilarious Liza Koshy.

"Y/n! Luke! Welcome to the Met Gala!" Liza exclaimed, giving you both a warm hug.

"Thank you, Liza. We're thrilled to be here," You replied, grinning from ear to ear.

"So, this is your first Met Gala together as a couple. How does it feel?" Liza asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"It feels amazing. It's such an honor to be here, and to be able to share this moment with Luke just makes it even more special," You replied, smiling at him.

"Liza, can I just say that y/n looks enchanting tonight," Luke cut in, causing you to blush.

"You're not looking too bad yourself, Luke," Liza said with a wink, causing you all to laugh.

"Yeah, well, I had an amazing stylist," Luke replied, grinning at you.

"Okay, now, spill the tea. Is there anything you can tell us about Bridgerton season 3? Any new characters or plot twists?" Liza asked, wiggling her eyebrows mischievously.

"Well, let's just say fans won't be disappointed by their expectations," You replied slyly.

"Okay guys, I need to know. How was your first meeting?' she asked her usual bubbly self.

"It was better than anything I'd expect on meeting a co-star for the first time, better than I'd have imagined and more. And I have to say, the connection we had besides the chemistry made it more special," Luke replied, looking at you with adoration.

"I couldn't agree more. these last years of Bridgerton were mindblowing, and I'm so grateful to be able to share it with this man," You said, wrapping your arms around his waist as he pulled you closer.

Liza couldn't help but let out a squeal again, and we all laughed as she faked taking a picture to capture the moment.

"And on that note, I'm going to let you guys go. I can clearly see that you just want to be alone right now," Liza said with a wink, before giving you both a hug.

"Thank you for everything tonight, Liza. Seriously, we couldn't have asked for a better interview. Or interviewer," You said, hugging her back.

"Oh please, it was my pleasure. And who knows, maybe we'll see more of you two on the red carpet in the future," Liza said with a playful wink, before heading off to interview other guests.

As you both made your way inside, you couldn't stop talking about how amazing the night was going to be. You were both excited, but you knew that you would cherish this memory forever.

You knew that life was only going to get crazier from here on out with your growing fame, but you were also confident that as long as you had each other, you could handle anything.

And as you walked hand in hand towards your future, you couldn't wait to see what the Met Gala would bring.

[itsghvstfvce]

TAKE YOU BY THE HAND

pairing : jenna ortega x gn!reader

summary : the night of the met gala is reminiscent of a special night you shared with jenna

word count : 1k

warnings : none!

a/n: a short little something about jenna at the met gala while i work on the next part for 'what's in a name' <3 thank you all so much for the love you've been giving it! i hope you enjoy this oneee

You sit on your hotel bed as you admire the suit hanging in front of you.

After gaining immense success from your new film, you earned an invite to the Met Gala for the first time. The annual event is known for showcasing some of the best outfits and looks for the year, with hundreds of people tuning in to find their favourite celebrities creatively sporting different luxury brands. Although the Met Gala is known for seeing crazy, big, and loud attire, you and your stylist worked together to be on the simpler side of things for your first appearance.

But if you were being honest, being able to attend the Gala was not the sole reason for your excitement; it’s the fact that you get to attend alongside your longtime girlfriend, Jenna.

The Scream actress was ecstatic to learn that you had also been invited to attend, rambling about how proud she was and how you two should coordinate your outfits. You were on board with the idea and have been discussing with your stylists to make it work. However, Jenna said she wanted to keep her outfit a surprise until you were both ready to make your way to the museum. Even after pleading for hints and sneak peeks, she was adamant on surprising you on the evening of. Respecting her wishes, you eventually stop bugging her about it and tell her you’ll be excited to see the final result.

Your Chanel suit fits you to a tee, and your stylists and manager are stunned at your appearance. You were always attractive, that much everyone knew, but tonight you exude a different aura. You showed confidence and a fierceness that hadn’t been seen from you often, as if a hidden beast was unleashed for the first time.

“I’m sending this to your mother! She’d be so proud to see you,” your manager excitedly snaps pictures of you like they were the paparazzi. You laugh at all of their reactions, feeling your cheeks heat up due to the attention they were giving you.

“Guys come on, it’s just me in a suit!”

“Yeah, but you look so damn good in a suit! Why haven’t we put you in more suits?!” your stylist lights up with glee. Now you were expecting your future premieres and interviews to be done in suits.

After final touches, you head down to the hotel lobby. You patiently wait at the bottom of the grand staircase, conversing with your team. You’re lost in conversation, not realizing that everyone’s attention had been diverted to something else - or someone else. You follow their line of sight to the top of the stairs where you find Jenna.

Your eyes do not leave the girl for one moment. Your gaze is fixed on her as she slowly makes her way down the stairs. Jenna was beautiful, that’s a given fact, but tonight she looked phenomenal. There’s a lack of words on my part to describe how amazing she looked, yet the look on your face was enough to explain how you felt.

“Close your mouth babe, you’ll catch flies,” she places her hand on your chin to gently shut your mouth. You didn’t even realize how close she’s gotten to you, too mesmerized by her appearance. Your girlfriend giggles at your lack of speech and decides to give you a better view by taking a step back and twirling around.

“Well? What do you think?” you’re finally snapped out of your trance.

“Eh, I think I look better,” you tease. Jenna laughs and closes the distance between you again until she’s standing right in front of you, and she brushes off specks of dust and lint from your suit.

“I can’t deny that you do look amazing tonight, mi amor.”

“Says you. You’re beautiful, cara mia,” you add emphasis on the compliment and Jenna smiles as a familiar pink tint crawls onto her face. You wrap your arms around her waist, hers around the back of your neck.

“You know what this reminds me of?” you hum in response, curious to hear what the shorter girl had to say. “Prom night. The way you looked at me as I was coming down the stairs was the exact same look you gave me when I came out of my bedroom and you saw me in my prom dress.”

Your heart swells at the memory. Due to the pandemic, there was no opportunity for you to take Jenna to your prom. However, you still wanted her to have that experience so with the help of both of your families, you planned a makeshift prom in Jenna’s backyard. When you went upstairs to bring her outside, you remember staring at her from top to bottom and all the way around, ensuring that her beauty would forever be imprinted in your mind.

“Yeah, I remember. I can’t believe that was almost 3 years ago now,” you smile lovingly.

“And do you remember what I said to you when we were dancing in the backyard?”

“When you said you felt like Belle from Beauty and the Beast, and that the entire night felt magical?”

“Your memory truly amazes me, but yes. I feel that way right now and it’s how I feel every moment I’m with you,” the last part of her sentence turns into a soft whisper, loud enough for only you to hear. You scan her face to admire all that is Jenna, taking in the features of her perfectly crafted face and you lean into place a kiss on-

“Y/N! Jenna! Over here!”

A sea of flashing lights and the calls from reporters and the paparazzi catches both of your attention, and the two of you burst into a fit of giggles. Your managers tell you it’s time to head to the museum, so you take a step back from Jenna and hold out your hand for her to take. Your fingers interlace with each other in a perfect fit, raising your hands to place a sweet kiss on hers.

“Shall we, princess?” Jenna snorts at the nickname, but finds it endearing nonetheless.

“Lead the way, love.”

a/n: i know nothing about clothing so i didn't want to try and describe our outfit too much TT forgive me lmao but thanks for reading!

[angxlwritez]

Attention

➳♡゛PAIRING: Choso x Fem!Reader

➳♡゛SUMMARY: Having enough of your husband's foolishness, you ask Choso to help you in any way he can.

➳♡゛WARNINGS: Angst, Mentions of Toxic Relationship, Explicit Language, Fluff (If you squint), Smut (MDNI), Oral (F receiving), Fingering, Implied unprotected sex, Creampie, Mentions of cheating.

Looking just from the outside everyone would think that she had it all. The newest models of any car at her disposal, clothing made of the finest fabrics, a grand home, and all the money in the world that a person would need.

Everyone that saw her wanted to be her but they would never know. They would never know that the “friendly” soft smile that seemed ever so gentle to everyone that she met, whether it was at a gala, charity event or just visiting someone she knew. No one could see the pain in her eyes and what really hid behind them. No one knew that the grand house she lived in never felt like home.

She’d watch as her husband conversed with his colleagues and friends, not even glancing at her the whole time they were at the event. The only words he said to her before they entered were, “Don’t you mess this up for me, Y/N,” as he’d release the heavy pressure he placed on her wrist before anyone would notice.

She wouldn’t say a word just a small nod and sound of what sounded like a yes.

She was used to his behavior, especially at the events they attended, this was the norm for her after all the years they spent together.

But just because she never said a word to him didn’t mean that she wouldn’t notice the flirtatious stares and the “subtle” touches that he would give to his female counterparts or even the way he would inch his face closer to their ears to see what looked like a normal conversation of him trying to let them hear him.

But Y/N knew that, that was far from the truth, she knew just by the smile creeping onto the woman’s face that the business talk he always spoke of was never just business. All she could do was roll her eyes and sip the extremely overpriced and disgustingly sweet wine as she stood in the corner of the room waiting for the time to go by.

It's funny really, but they never knew that all she wanted was for him to love her. Just tell her how pretty she was when she wore her favorite dress, give her sweet kisses before she fell asleep, or to even hold her close when she needed some reassurance that all will be okay. The truth was that all she wanted was for him to notice her but even doing that seemed hard for him to do.

As the night went on, Y/N found herself growing more and more distant from her husband. She couldn't bear to watch him flirt with other women, his lack of attention towards her cutting deeper than any of his words ever could.

Feeling suffocated by the crowd, she made her way toward the balcony, hoping to find some solace in the cool night air. Stepping outside, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the wind to brush against her face.

Suddenly hearing footsteps coming towards her Y/N turned around to notice Choso approach her. "Hello," he said, a small smile forming on his lips.

Y/N couldn't help but feel relieved to see Choso, one of her husband's business associates whom she had grown a close friendship with. "Hi Choso," she replied, returning the smile.

The man stepped closer to her, leaning against the railing of the balcony. "I’ve been trying to get to you all night. You look beautiful by the way," he said, his eyes never leaving hers.

Y/N couldn't help but feel a flutter in her chest at his words. It had been so long since anyone had complimented her like that. "Thank you," she said, feeling her cheeks heat up slightly.

"Are you okay?" he asked, noticing the sadness in her eyes.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before finally answering. "Just the same as usual,"

Choso nodded as his expression softened, "I'm sorry to hear that Y/N You deserve so much better than this, you know?"

"Tell me something I don't know Cho. You say the same shit every other week," Y/N spoke as a small smirk played against her lips.

Choso chuckled softly. "You know I'm right." Taking a step closer to her, his eyes never left hers. "I know you're not happy with your current situation, Y/N. And I know it's not my place to say this, but...you really do deserve to be happy."

Y/N felt her heart race as Choso's words sunk in. As unhappy as she was in her current relationship she'd never thought about leaving her husband. "I know," she said softly, her eyes locking onto Choso's. "But sometimes it feels like it's too late for me."

"It's never too late," Choso replied, reaching out and taking her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Just know that I'm here for you. And if you ever need anything, anything at all, just let me know."

"Thanks, Cho. You're the best." A small smile crossed the woman's lips as she smiled at him. "We should probably get back inside now"

Choso nodded, reluctantly letting go of her hand. As they made their way back inside, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and warmth from Choso's words.

As the night went on, her husband's behavior only worsened. His flirtatious remarks and touches becoming more blatant and disrespectful towards her. Deciding to leave the event early, Y/N made her way toward the exit.

As she stepped outside, she saw Choso. He was leaning against his car, a small smile on his face as he looked up at her. "Need a ride?" he asked, holding out his keys.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, but the thought of spending another minute with her husband was unbearable. "Yes, please take me home," she replied, walking towards him.

Choso opened the passenger door for her and she climbed inside, feeling a sense of relief wash over her as she sat down. As they drove through the city, the silence between them was comfortable and familiar. It was the same kind of silence that they often shared when they were alone together, a silence that spoke volumes without any words being exchanged. As they pulled up to her grand home, Choso turned to her, his eyes filled with concern. "Are you going to be okay?" he asked softly.

Y/N nodded, as she spoke, "It’s me Cho. I think I’ll be alright. Thanks for the ride"

Choso smiled at her, his eyes filled with warmth. "Anytime, Y/N.”

As she stepped out of the car, she turned to face Choso one last time. "Thank you for being such a good friend."

Choso smiled at her once again before driving off into the night, leaving the woman standing alone in front of her house

As she made her way inside, the emptiness of the house hit her hard. The realization that her marriage had become nothing more than a façade of wealth and status, lacking any real love or affection.

Feeling lost and overwhelmed, Y/N let out a small sob before making her way up to her way to the couch. As she sat on the couch, the events of the night replayed in her mind.

As hours passed by she still had no word from her husband. Her phone began to ring interrupting her thoughts as she saw it was her husband. Picking up the phone the woman answered but didn't get any answer on the other side of the phone, just noises of another woman's moans and the groaning of her husband’s voice.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she hung up the phone, feeling the weight of her husband's infidelity crush her. As she wiped away her tears, Y/N realized that she couldn't keep living this way. She couldn't keep pretending that everything was okay and that her marriage was salvageable.

As she sat on the edge of the bed, Choso's word wrapped around her head..."Just know that I'm here for you. And if you ever need anything, anything at all, just let me know."

Taking a deep breath the woman picked up a set of keys from the many they had and left. Entering the car, she let out another long sigh. Picking up her phone she scrolled through her contact list and dialed Choso's number, her heart racing as she waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?" Choso's voice echoed through the line, causing Y/N's heart to race faster.

"It's me," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey, Y/N. Is everything okay?" His voice was filled with concern.

Y/N took a deep breath. "No, everything is not okay. My husband...he's been unfaithful to me," she said, her voice breaking. "Can I come over? I just...I don't know what to do right now," she said, the desperation in her voice evident.

"Of course." Choso replied, his voice calming her nerves. Y/N drove to Choso's place, with tears streaming down her face. As she pulled up to his house, he was waiting for her at the door, a sympathetic look on his face.

Without a word, Y/N stepped out of the car and into Choso's embrace, feeling the weight of her emotions lift slightly as he held her in his arms, as her tears continued to pour. They stayed like that for a moment, as his arms wrapped around her tightly, comforting her.

After a while, Choso pulled back and wiped away the tears from the woman's face. "Let's go inside," he said softly, leading her into his house.

Once inside, he led her to the couch and sat down beside her, still holding her hand. "Is there anything I could do to help?" he asked.

Y/N took a deep breath and nodded. "Make me forget...please." The woman looked at him with pleading eyes, hoping that he understood what she meant.

Choso's expression softened as he looked at her. "Are you sure?" he asked softly.

Y/N nodded, feeling an overwhelming desire to forget the pain and heartache she had been experiencing.

Without another word, Choso leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, his hand cupping the back of her head gently. As their lips met, Y/N felt a sense of relief wash over her. It was like everything else faded away and all that existed in that moment was the two of them.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Choso's neck, pulling him closer to her as he gently pushed her back onto the couch. Their bodies pressed against each other as they continued to kiss, and their hands exploring each other's bodies.

Without a word, Choso led her upstairs to his bedroom, his hand never leaving hers. As they entered the room, he led her to his bed and gently pushed her down onto the soft mattress. Climbing on top of her, he kissed her passionately, his hands roaming over her body. Y/N moaned softly, feeling a sense of pleasure coursing through her body.

Choso broke the kiss and looked down at her, his eyes filled with desire and longing. "Are you sure about this? I don’t want to take advantage of you like this," he asked, his voice low and husky.

Y/N nodded, her eyes filling with need. "Yes, I'm sure," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Without another word, Choso began to undress her, his fingers brushing against her skin as he removed her clothes. As he removed his shirt, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the toned muscles of his body.She reached out and ran her hand over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under her fingertips. As he looked into his eyes she whispered "I need you...please."

"Just let me do this first." He said as he pulled her body near the edge of the bed getting on his knees. Pushing her legs apart, he leaned down and began to kiss her inner thighs, his tongue tracing delicate circles against her skin.

Y/N moaned softly, feeling a rush of pleasure as Choso's lips moved closer to her core. As he began to explore her with his tongue, Y/N felt her body begin to shiver with pleasure her hands gripping onto his black locks of hair.

Choso continued to pleasure her, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate patterns against her clit. As Y/N moaned softly, he slid two fingers inside of her, feeling her walls clench around him.

Y/N moaned his name as his fingers found their rhythm, her walls beginning to spasm around him.

He then removed his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, beginning a slow, deliberate pace as he continued to pleasure her. As his tongue continued to move against her, Y/N gasped for air as her walls began to quiver around him.

"Oh, Choso! Don't stop!" She cried, her body arching up against his lips.

Pulling away Y/N let out a small whine. "Don't be like that Y/N," The man groaned as he brought his lips back to her, as his fingers continued to rub small circles against her clit as his tongue sliding into her mouth, tasting her sweet, salty taste as their tongues danced together. Y/N squealed softly, breaking the kiss as she felt all of her muscles begin to tense.

Choso groaned against her, his fingers never ceasing their movement as he teased her. As he continued his tongue exploring her folds. Continuing to pleasure her, he felt her walls begin to tighten around his fingers and heard her moans grow louder, growing in intensity as she came.

As she came down from her orgasm, Y/N pulled him up towards her, kissing him passionately. "Please Cho..." she moaned softly, breaking the kiss and gasping for air. "Please, I need you inside of me."

Without a word Choso removed the rest of his clothing, his eyes never leaving hers as he positioned himself between her legs.

Gently pushing himself inside of her, Y/N moaned softly, her walls wrapping around his dick as he gently pushed deeper into her.

"Oh...God...Choso!" Y/N groaned softly her body arching against his as he continued to push deeper inside of her.

Choso groaned, enjoying the feeling of her walls tightening around him, closing his eyes as he thrust faster into her.

Y/N gasped as he began to thrust into her deeper, his dick hitting her walls and sending pleasure coursing through her.

Choso smiled and leaned down, kissing her softly as he began to thrust into her faster. "You feel so fucking good..." he moaned against her lips as his thrusts grew faster.

Y/N's moans grew louder as he continued to thrust into her, his cock hitting her sweet spots with every motion, causing shivers of pleasure to shoot up her spine.

"Oh God, I'm so close!", her moans growing louder as he continued his rapid pace. her breathing grew heavier as she began to feel herself about to orgasm again.

"Me too," Choso groaned as Y/N wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer to her.

"Don't stop..." Y/N pleaded, her voice full of need.

Choso nodded and began to move faster inside of her, thrusting harder as the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room.

Both of them moaned as Choso began to fuck her faster, her walls tightening around him as he was reaching his peak.

"Oh God, Y/N I'm gonna cum." He groaned, his thrusts becoming faster and more urgent.

"Cum for me..." She moaned softly, pulling him close and kissing him passionately.

Choso groaned and thrust into her feeling his orgasm quickly approaching.

Gasping for air, Y/N began to scream his name over and over again as he came inside of her, his body shaking.

"Oh Fuck..." he groaned as he finished, panting heavily as he collapsed against her.

As both of their orgasms subsided, Choso pulled away from her, his dick slipping out of her as he pulled them both up towards the pillows.

They laid in silence for several moments, trembling gently against each other as they caught their breath.

As Y/N began to relax beside him, Y/N felt her eyes begin to grow heavy, her body trembling gently.

"Are you okay? I didn't hurt you did I?," Choso whispered softly, his fingers gently touching her face.

"You could never hurt me. You know that," she whispered, turning towards him and kissing him softly on the lips. Laying her head against his shoulder Y/N spoke again, curiosity lacing her tone "So where do we go from here Cho..."

Choso smiled and kissed her forehead, his lips brushing against her skin. "You tell me Y/N, you're the one who's running away."

As she heard his words, Y/N felt her throat grow tight as her eyes began to sting with tears. "I'm sorry Cho..."

"Don't apologize," he smiled, kissing her softly on the lips. "I know you'll realize the truth…you'll realize that I'm all you need."

"I'm sorry...I really am." Y/N whispered wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close to her.

"Don't be," Choso smiled, his fingers gently tracing the side of her face. "I'll be waiting when you come back to me. I'll be here for you and only you, no matter how long it takes. I know that one day you'll realize that I'm all you need."

Hearing his words the woman nodded as she felt her eyes grow heavy and closed them, quickly falling asleep beside Choso.

Choso wrapped his arms around her enjoying the feeling of her warm body against his. He stayed up for a few more minutes relishing the feeling of her warmth against his, enjoying the sound of her soft breathing as she slept.

As he finally began to feel his eyes growing heavy, he looked down at the woman laying beside him. He knew that one day she'd realize that he is all she needs and in the meantime, he'll be here for her, waiting for her to return to him. Gently, pressing a kiss against her forehead he whispered. "I'll wait for as long as it takes Y/N, whenever you're ready...I’ll be here."

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[roseharpermaxwell]

RWRB FirstPrince Sports (AU or Otherwise) Recs

Hockey, Lacrosse, Rugby - you name it, I'm here for it. Click below for some of my faves!

your future history (it's time) by kjbee81. T, 739 words. Alex and Henry, both rugby players at the Olympics, take part in the tradition of switching shorts after the game. Henry wants to start a different tradition.

OR me getting inspired by a tweet about the Olympic rugby players switching shorts...

Eye On The Prize by milowren. NR, 1.3k. Announcer 1: Alright, here we are at last, we’ve come to final event for mixed teams in archery, and this one’s all for the gold, Lisa.

Announcer 2: That’s right, John. I’m sure these last two teams aren’t feeling any pressure at all.

Announcer 1: (chuckles) Well, we’ll be able to see for ourselves in a minute here, when we get the readings from their heart rate monitors. As you know, the technique for archery at this level is so precise, any fluctuation in the competitors’ heartbeats can affect the outcome.

***

Henry and Alex are archers at the Olympics.

Born To Make History by @everwitch-magiks. T, 1.3k. This season, Henry has a new free skate. It's sassy, flirty, and actually genuinely fun, and somehow, it's taken him all the way to the Grand Prix Final. Still, even though Henry has perfected his lutz since his last competitive season, and gets that all too important second-half multiplier for every quad in his arsenal, he knows he isn't half as good as most of his competition. There's no way he's actually getting on the podium.

Except, one persistently curious and curiously attentive pair skater, with a distressingly attractive smile, gorgeous brown eyes and very interesting ambitions for the post-competition gala, seems to think otherwise.

'Coast-to-Coast' by @cheesecurdsgravyandfries. E, 1.3k. Lacrosse slang - when a player nearest their end-line takes the ball all the way down the field to the opposing team's end of the field.

Alex finds his old high school lacrosse jersey. Henry wears it.

The jersey is tight across Henry’s broad shoulders, the polymesh sleeves pulled by the tension, making Henry’s biceps pop, and if the hem didn’t reach the waistband of Alex’s underwear, it doesn’t stand a chance on Henry’s long torso. There’s at least two inches of skin visible between the top, and the band of Henry’s red D&G briefs - so selected tonight, because the red matches that in Alex’s high school logo on his chest. Henry looks sexy as hell, and he knows it.

i could be a better boyfriend by bananzie. T, 2.4k. It wasn't that Alex didn't like telling people about Henry—quite the opposite, actually—it was just that no one ever believed him when he did.

An AU in which Henry is one of England’s most famous rugby players, Alex met him during an exchange year, and they’re so in love it’s sickening, but no one believes him.

who are we to fight the alchemy by @coffeecatsme. T, 3.1k. INTERVIEWER: Kiss, marry, kill, between Taylor Swift, Beatrice Fox of the Tortured Poets, and Dua Lipa.

ALEX: Oh God, I’m gonna get so cancelled. Uh… Well, my sister would absolutely kill me if I killed Taylor Swift so I guess I gotta kiss her? I mean, she’s hot. And I guess I’m killing Dua Lipa? That leaves… Can I, like, take her brother instead of Beatrice Fox? He’s more my type.

Sets on the Beach by @happiness-of-the-pursuit. M, 3.6k. 95% of the able-bodied New York City queer population sign up to play intramural beach volleyball in the summer (this statistic is not supported by Nora). Unfortunately for Alex, this number includes Henry Fox and his very broad shoulders. Despite Henry’s unsportsmanlike recruiting and stupid genetic advantages, Alex is determined to take him (and the rest of Queerly the Best) down.

Or, Cowboys star Alex crashes out of the closet in an interview. This is how everyone reacts.

bed with your name on it by silver maples. E, 3.3k. “Are the beds really anti-fuckable ‘cause, if so, that’s gonna be an issue for me.”

These are the first words Alex says to Henry after throwing open the door to their shared room. Henry blinks, sitting cross-legged against the headboard, rereading The Little Prince - it felt apt to bring - when Alex’s eyes settle on him.

“Oh fuck,” Alex follows up with, and, “Oh, you’re not Liam.”

go the distance by @indomitable-love. T, 3.7k. His legs are like jello. He’s not entirely sure how he’s still upright. He’s running on fumes and the energy gel he’d been handed about forty minutes ago by one of the secret service as he’d passed by. Fumes, energy gel pouches, the roar of the crowd against New York streets, and pure adrenaline because he can see the finish line. He knows what’s there: June and Nora and Henry.

Henry. The reason Alex is doing this whole damn thing in the first place.

Alex decides to run a marathon. It's all Henry's fault, really.

Red, White & Navy Blue by @jedusaur. E, 4.4k. "Fine," says Alex. He clenches his jaw and his fists. "Great. Watch me. I'll bromance the shit out of the motherfucker." 

Twenty Seven Batters by @historicallysam. T, 4.6k. A ballplayer will refuse to stop playing because they want one more hit, steal, strikeout. One more homerun. One more win. So they get old and they lose their skill and embarrass themselves long after they should have hung up their spikes.

If that’s the rule, then Alexander Claremont-Diaz is the exception.

Because today, at age 38, Alexander Claremont-Diaz is six outs away from a perfect game.

Catch and Release by @welcometololaland. T, 4.8k. Henry isn't good at many things, but he is fairly good at rowing - something which is very deeply fine, until a transfer student from America turns up.

When Henry winds up being Alex's roommate on a training camp, they don't get off to a great start. Fortunately, their coach has other ideas.

A slice of the rowing AU involving midnight training sessions, extreme physical exertion and just a little bit of Only One Bed.

You Spin Me (Right Round) by @myheartalivewrites. E, 5.4k. “...he signs up for Henry’s evening class again, and if he comes in wearing a cropped sleeveless t-shirt with a bi pride flag on it and skintight burgundy leggings, well, that’s just a coincidence. He doesn’t necessarily mean anything by it.”

Henry is a spinning instructor and Alex is attending his first class after being ill. The whole thing is unexpectedly moving. And horny. Everyone is WAY TOO horny.

Tonight, You're Gold by @cha-melodius. E, 6k. “You could stay with me,” Henry says before he can properly think it through. Across from him, Alex raises his eyebrows. Christ. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Only, my roommate’s already done competing, and he’s moved out. So I have an extra bed.”

Alex laughs, his curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I’m not sure I’m allowed to just move into Team Great Britain territory.”

(When Alex's room in the Olympic Village becomes uninhabitable, Henry acquires a new roommate who, it turns out, he's maybe, sorta, possibly falling in love with.)

your court or mine? by @silvermaples. E, 6.4k. When the guy bends to grab the ball, his little, white shorts lift, and all Alex can focus on is the way those thighs move and the sheer power behind them. He’s focusing so hard he doesn’t notice the incline of the sidewalk, nor the rock in front of him. And then, naturally, he’s bowling over and falling on his ass before he even realises what’s happening.

He may as well just die. Lay here and succumb to his wounds. Here lies Alex Claremont-Diaz, twenty-two and useless. Cause of death? Hot guy in slutty little shorts.

“Oh dear,” He hears, exceedingly British and posh and deep, and he lifts his head. Maybe death was a little premature of an idea after all. “Are you alright?”

you know i love a london boy by @coffeecatsme.  T, 6.5k. “A very special friendship bracelet,” Bea corrects, with such a delight in her voice that Henry is immediately suspicious. He grabs the darn thing and twists it around, glittery beads shining under the lights of the room. A phone number, if Henry is counting them right. Despite himself, his heart skips a beat. “From the one and only Alexander Claremont-Diaz.” She grins, bouncing on the balls of her feet—the day she stops playing matchmaker for her brother will surely be a cold day in hell. The sole excitement of her life since she doesn’t do romance.

Henry twists the bracelet in his hands, counting the numbers again, and then looks up. “Who?”

Or, 5 times Alex and Henry keep their relationship a secret and 1 time they don't. 

let's get lost (and let the good times roll) by riversdeep. M, 6.5k. “Fuck, sorry,” The man says, distinctly American, holding a hand out to right Henry where he’s fallen. His face comes into view as Henry lets the man pull him up, worried eyes and furrowed brows, and he’s utterly mortified to realise that the man isn’t just any random man, he’s Alex Claremont-Diaz, June’s volleyball playing brother. Her very attractive, very concerned looking volleyball playing brother.

There's No Problem That San Diego Can't Solve by @historicallysam. T, 6.7k. Alex doesn’t even bother knocking; he simply twists the knob on the door and shoves it open. His eyes narrow as the door bangs against the wall and he sees Henry on the phone. Maybe (definitely) it’s rude but his blood is fucking boiling so he doesn’t really care.

Because I’m A Scoundrel by @inexplicablymine. E, 8.3k. Alex Claremont-Diaz has exactly thirty minutes to make himself look as slutty as possible for this Halloween Gala. At this very moment he looks a little bit like a sexed up pirate, but with the addition of his small black vest - rest in peace to the Patagonia packers and finance brethren- and a low slung belt with a “blaster,” a very sex-on-legs Han Solo is looking back at him.

Henry Fox, who is both a double scull rower with enough Olympic medals it would make anyone other than Alex sweat, and the definitive arch nemesis of Alex - is wearing a white sylvette Princess Leia costume, hugging his curves in all the right ways, the clingy fabric draping to the floor.

When you and your arch nemesis show up to the most important gala of the year in a couples costume you either play it up or shut it down. Alex has a decision to make, but the way that dress is hugging Henry’s ass isn’t making that decision any easier.

(la)cross(e) my heart by weather_stained. E, 8.6k. Alex is determined to start a lacrosse team at his college. It's his junior year, and he's closer than ever. That is, until he finds out someone else is trying to start a rugby team, and there's only enough funding for one additional sport.

Clubs Day comes around, and he finds that his rival is no other than the insufferable Henry Fox. Alex definitely doesn't spent more time staring at Henry instead of running his booth, but if he does, it doesn't mean he's obsessed with him or anything.

Thin Ice series by @priincebutt. E, 8.8k. Alexander Claremont-Diaz, charismatic center for the NHL's Dallas Stars, is completely and utterly smitten with the posh British librarian he met by complete accident. Tonight is the night, and he's got a plan to completely woo Henry and get his man.

Don't Quit It by @inexplicablymine. M, 9k. “And goddamn last but not least on my Hit It and Don’t Quit It list would be the Saracens rugby player Henry Fox. That man has great depths, and he could so easily plumb my depths, if you know what I’m saying. An all-around fantastic player, but also someone who is ridiculously smart off the field. And we all know by now that everyone on this list features my mile-wide competency kink. Henry, if you are seeing this, we could play around with some balls that aren’t just in play.”

Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck.

Alex has just accidentally outed himself to 6.7 million people. And according to the comments section, they seem to be all too aware.

Or... Announcing your crush via viral TikTok... that's one way to get his attention ;)

Puck It by @kiwiana-writes. E, 9.7k. “I’m English, dear,” Henry tells him, and fuck if the nickname isn’t doing something to Alex too. “Our national sport is rugby, and we play it with a lot less protective gear. Though,” he adds thoughtfully, “rugby players do wear mouth guards, which means they have the significant advantage of generally keeping all their teeth.”

“We wear mouth guards.” It’s a common misconception, and one that annoys the shit out of him. “And I’ve still got all my teeth. Wanna check?” 

Love-Love by @smc-27. T, 10k. “I hear Alex Claremont-Diaz is available,” she says, and while the idea is terribly appealing, he knows that it is incorrect.

“Alex is an incredible tennis player. If he wanted to pair up, I’d be open to that.”

It is not often Henry’s mouth gets him in trouble. Years of media training and growing up with a celebrity for a dad have left him very practiced in the subtle art of the spin.

Apparently the mere mention of Alex had all that leaving his head entirely.

lacrosse, my heart by indomitablelove. E, 10k. Logically, Henry should have known to expect this. He’s aware of how lacrosse works. Or, at least, he’s developed enough of an understanding of how lacrosse works through Alex. He’s seen photos of Alex in his lacrosse uniform before, and yet somehow that still doesn’t prepare him for the sight of seeing Alex actually playing lacrosse.

Alex returns to his high school to play a charity lacrosse match. Henry joins him and sees Alex play lacrosse for the first time.

You didn't tell me you play rugby by Moony_Reggie_stars_1003. E, 10k. Alex finds out that Henry plays rugby, and has some very specific feelings about it.

Tread Lightly by @smc-27. E, 11k. Alex notices this guy the moment he walks in. Which implies that he hasn’t noticed the guy before now, which isn’t true at all. He’s seen him around. He - like everyone else - has stared at the guy’s eyes and waist and thighs and fucking Disney prince swoopy hair.

Alex is really used to hitting on people and getting the outcome he wants.

Or: Lax bro Alex wants Henry

How to stay with you by lovergalore. E, 12k. Alex feels like he hasn’t slept in weeks, which is essentially ever since he got his new roommate, Henry. Alex doesn’t have anything against his roommate—or his sexual proclivities; obviously, there’s nothing wrong with that, but it gets to a point where almost every other night Henry has a ‘friend’ over and Alex has to pull out his noise-canceling headphones to be able to endure another minute in their shared dorm.

CHECK(MATE) by ma_lark_ey. T, 14k. "It's such an unexpected pairing, a hockey player and a punk star. How'd you too meet?"

"Oh, well, it's really silly. It actually started when Alex's fans started..."

"I met Henry because my Tumblr followers started this elaborate hoax about us being best friends."

"And, let me guess, you ran with it?"

"Oh, June, you know I commit to a good bit."

Pumped by myheartalive. E, 22k. Recently moved to London, Alex meets Henry at a climbing wall, where accidental rudeness and misunderstandings keep them apart, until they don’t.

There's pining, there's climbing, there's stupid boys falling for each other, and smut towards the end.

Show Me What You’re Working With by @clottedcreamfudge. E, 23k. He doesn't want to think the words "monster cock" but frankly, it's too fucking late, because they're now living rent-free in his brain in twenty-foot high neon letters.

How does that even work? Do the women he sleeps with come out changed? Does he have the goddamn ER on alert every time he goes on a date?

Alex isn't into dick, except maybe he is, and maybe this one specifically. 

the winner takes it all by @dumbpeachjuice. E, 24k. In theory, this shouldn’t be a thing. Alex has spent his whole life around other cyclists, on the track and the road and off both, and he’s never had this sort of visceral reaction to any of them.

(Well. Kind of. Maybe he let his eyes linger on a teammate once or twice. But like—Alex is an athlete. He appreciates the human form.)

But the way the muscles in Henry Fox’s thighs stretch and ripple as he urges his bike up the mountain—

Yeah.

It’s a lot.

And if Alex weren’t so determined to steal that yellow jersey off his back he’d fall off his bike.

Made the Right Selection by clottedcreamfudge. E, 27k. "You don't take 'no' for an answer, do you?" Henry says curiously, and Alex cocks his head to the side; his hair falls into his eyes just a little but he doesn't bother to brush it aside. Henry's fingers itch to do it for him.

"I do when it's the actual answer," he says eventually, and Henry's face twists into a smile.

"Right," he says.

"Alex, come the fuck on," Nora calls over from where the squad has started to wander off into whatever day there is left. Henry suspects, looking at the sun, that there's rather a lot of it to go.

"See you later, H," Alex says with a grin, and then he's gone, leaving Henry with his helmet in his hand and his heart in his throat.

Alex is a cheerleader. That's the premise. 

catch my breath to breathe your name by goingmywaydoll. M, 29k. “So,” the person says without pause, “I heard you like soccer butts but not the people attached to them.”

Where Henry’s family owns a (fictional) football club and Alex is fresh from the States and the new star addition to the team and it's all entirely predictable.

Stupid Games, Stupid Prizes by JustAnotherWriter_93. E, 38k. The College AU where Alex is a football player, and Henry has had a secret crush on him for two years, attending every football game possible. Henry thinks that getting involved with Alex will be nothing but a disaster, Alex thinks that maybe he isn’t as straight as he thought, and they’re both a little bit right.

Faster, Higher, Stronger by everwitch. E, 64k. When Alex fails to qualify for the 2022 Winter Olympics, it’s all too easy to blame Henry Fox, the dual citizen who’d switched from Team GB to Team USA and snagged the last spot for men’s figure skating. After Alex is abruptly thrown back into the games, he forms an unexpectedly deep connection with Henry. But no athlete who aims for the top of the podium can afford any serious distractions. Will Alex be able to keep his flaring emotions in check and take home the Olympic gold medal he’s always aimed for?

Baseball Boyfriends series by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 121k. “It’s just — I’ve had such a hard time feeling like I really belonged. I think that’s what got me in the slump in the first place. But coming back here, seeing all the love I still got even though I’m not on the Rangers anymore… that really helped. And being on the Mets, being in New York — you helped with all of that. More than you’ll ever know.”

Or, Alex and Henry are dumb, horny disasters. With an added bonus of baseball.

A Sporting Chance series by clottedcreamfudge. E, 236k. "Marry Henry - destination wedding. Combine all of our names so paperwork is a fucking nightmare." Henry stares at him and Pez rolls the dice, and-

"Congratulations to Alex and Henry Claremont-Diaz-Fox-Mountchristen," he says with a bright grin, and Alex punches the air and makes a 'whooping' noise. "Your wedding is attended by the Beckhams, the President, and several key members of congress. Henry is very gentle on your wedding night." Henry is going to fucking kill Pez.

"Fucking sweet," Alex says, because Henry is apparently the only one here trying not to have a coronary about all of this.

It had just been a party game, except now Henry is in way over his head.

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

[escapingrealityforamoment]

Hello! Your writing is so so beautiful! Do you ever write AU’s? Like maybe, regency or historical fiction where Jonah is a prince and the reader is a princess of a foreign kingdom?

Hello! Thank you so much! I really appreciate that! :) I gave it a go and I hope this is what you are looking for and enjoy reading it!

In the bustling city of Veridian, where modern skyscrapers pierced the sky and technology intertwined with regal traditions, lived Prince Jonah of Eldoria. With his striking features and a magnetic presence, he was the epitome of charm and elegance. The kingdom admired him, and he carried his royal duties with grace.

Across the ocean, in the vibrant kingdom of Astoria, resided Y/N, a captivating princess known for her intelligence and kind heart. Her modern ideas and progressive outlook made her a beloved figure in her kingdom.

Amidst an era of diplomatic alliances and strategic unions, Veridian and Astoria sought to solidify their ties through the marriage of Prince Jonah and Y/N. Though they had never met, their worlds were about to collide.

As fate would have it, a lavish gala was organized at the grand Eldoria Palace to mark their first encounter. The palace was transformed into a wonderland of lights, where the sound of laughter and music filled the air. Prince Jonah and Y/N caught glimpses of each other from across the crowded room, their hearts beating faster with every stolen glance.

Finally, under the starlit sky, Prince Jonah and Y/N found themselves on the palace terrace, away from the prying eyes. The moon illuminated their faces as they engaged in heartfelt conversation, feeling an instant connection that surpassed their expectations.

From that magical night, Prince Jonah and Y/N embarked on a journey of love and self-discovery. They navigated the complexities of their royal responsibilities while forging a bond that transcended borders. Their story unfolded against the backdrop of modern challenges, where the public eye scrutinized their every move, and social media played a significant role in shaping public opinion.

Together, they defied convention and stood up for their beliefs, inspiring a generation with their actions. Prince Jonah and Y/N became beacons of hope, championing causes close to their hearts and breaking the barriers of tradition.

Their love story was one for the ages—a tale of two royals who found solace in each other's arms amidst the chaos of their privileged lives. As they fought for a future where love and individuality thrived, Veridian and Astoria were forever changed.

[totowlff]

extra — intention and redemption

➝ all it took was a black dress and red lipstick for toto to realize the mistake he was making with aurélie. and he was determined to fix it.

➝ word count: 3,2k

➝ warnings: smut

➝ author’s note: i swear this was meant to be a well-behaved extra, with sexual tension and conflict. however, my hand slipped on ally's wonderful work. enjoy!

JANUARY, 2016

They came to the Salon International de la Haute Horlogerie Genève separately — at least that’s what Toto and Elisabeth wanted people to think. It was fortunate that Elisabeth was invited in her capacity as an unofficial member of the board of directors of the Mercedes Formula 1 team, and that Niki didn’t want to attend. It made it easier for them to explain why they were seen together.  

Elisabeth, as usual, checked into her room at the InterContinental Genève, but didn’t spend much time in it — any, really. 

Instead, she was getting ready for the “Come Fly With Us” gala dinner, put on by IWC, one of the team’s main sponsors, in Toto’s room. 

They arrived in Geneva earlier that afternoon and took some time to relax together after arriving on their respective flights — Elisabeth had been in Vienna for the past few days, trying to finalize the Amira Air deal, and Toto had been in Brackley. He suggested they take advantage of the generously-sized bathtub in the suite and take a hot bath together, and so they did. They soaked in the hot water, scented by the sachet of rose and ylang ylang bath salts from the hotel’s welcome package. Elisabeth was lying against Toto’s chest, sitting between his legs. They took the time to carefully touch and tease each other before taking things to the bed. They made love like they had been apart for months instead of just four days. 

Afterward, each of them needed to get ready for the gala. Toto took a quick shower before changing and combing his hair. Elisabeth took a bit more time, of course — drying and styling her hair, applying her makeup, and changing into her dress and accessories she’d chosen for the evening. 

After she had put on her dress, Elisabeth opened the bathroom door. A rush of steam came out. Toto, who was changing into his suit for the evening, turned his head to look at Elisabeth as she busied herself with the hair dryer. He caught a glance of the dress Elisabeth was wearing. It was black, strapless, and fitted such that it emphasized her hips and waist. Toto didn’t usually pay close attention to Elisabeth’s clothes, because everything she wore looked amazing on her. However, there was something specific about the dress she’d chosen that jogged something in his memory, like she’d worn it before. It wasn’t recently, but…

“Oh… right. Monaco”, he thought.

The 2014 Monaco Grand Prix. It was the weekend that Toto realized he was in love, but not with the woman he was with at the time.

He’d met that woman at this exact event, two years prior — she was a model for Cartier, and was there to showcase the Ballon Blanc. It wasn’t the watch that caught Toto’s eye, but the woman wearing it. She was very beautiful and elegant-looking, but looked a bit bored, which was why Toto started talking to her in the first place. She introduced herself as Aurélie Droz, and had honey-brown eyes and silky blonde hair that hung past her shoulders. She started their conversation by giving the official-sounding marketing speech for the watch she was wearing, but it didn’t interest Toto very much. He asked her what watch she liked best, because she didn’t sound very passionate about the Ballon Blanc. They talked for a while, and he found himself enjoying their conversation enough that he gave her his contact information and said they should get dinner the following week, when he would be in Paris. 

Aurélie was a charming woman — pretty, too. He’d noticed that while he was talking to her, the heartache he’d been feeling since Christmas Eve wasn’t quite as present as it had been, after Elisabeth had told him that their clandestine encounter in a conference room in the factory had been a mistake, and that she didn’t have any feelings for him after all. 

It felt good to be wanted, Toto realized, as his one dinner with Aurélie became two, which became her visiting Vienna over a long weekend, which became them actually starting a relationship.

Things were still relatively fresh by the time the weekend of the Monaco Grand Prix arrived. Toto hadn’t been nervous about seeing Elisabeth again at the group dinner for the board at the Restaurant du Métropole Monte-Carlo, as he was sure that the idea of being anything more to him than a business associate was well in the past by now.

Once she came into view, though, he realized how wrong he had been.

She was dressed in a way that Toto hadn’t ever seen before. Her dark brown hair, normally pinned back in an elegant bun or a sleek ponytail, swept away from her face, was tumbling in soft waves around her shoulders, which were bare in the black, strapless dress she was wearing. Normally, her makeup was soft and subtle, but she was wearing smoky, dramatic eye makeup and crimson lipstick that captured Toto’s attention immediately. While they were eating, Toto almost couldn’t take his eyes off of her. 

He was a bit startled when Niki asked Aurélie a question about her modeling career, and he remembered that Aurélie was still sitting next to him, holding his hand. He gave the woman a peck on the cheek, and not a minute later, Elisabeth mumbled an “excuse me” and bolted from the table. Reflexively, Toto almost went after her, just to see what was wrong, until he realized how that might look to Aurélie. So, he waited a few minutes, and asked Aurélie if she would mind checking to see if Elisabeth was in the women’s restroom, and to see if she was okay.

Aurélie returned to the table a few minutes later, but Elisabeth was nowhere in sight.

— She said she’s not feeling well, and she’s heading back to the hotel — she told Toto and Niki, quietly — I told her we could give her a ride back, but she said her hotel was close enough to walk.

Toto didn’t see Elisabeth again for the rest of the weekend. Saturday, during qualifying, Niki said she’d come down with something. He wasn’t sure what, but he said that she had caught the first flight back to Vienna that morning. Toto’s heart sank. He couldn’t get Elisabeth off his mind for the rest of the day, and couldn’t seem to settle down that night after heading to bed. He tossed and turned, unable to sleep. 

The image of Elisabeth was etched in his mind — the lipstick she was wearing and how it would look smeared across his face, his neck, his chest, and… Other places. He thought about the graceful line of her neck, down to her collarbones — places where he wanted to leave delicate kisses and not-so delicate ones. He could feel himself growing increasingly frustrated, trying to figure out if there was a way he could relieve the pressure without…

— Toto, what’s wrong? — he heard Aurelie say. Toto turned over to look at her, feeling bad about the places his mind had been going while she was laying next to him. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes — You keep tossing and turning.

— Oh, I — he said, feeling a bit ashamed at how his imagination seemed determined to lead him to betrayal. He certainly hadn’t meant to wake her — I was just thinking about how qualifying went.

He was lying through his teeth, somewhat — qualifying was something else that was on his mind, but not as presently as Elisabeth was.

— The whole thing with Nico and Lewis — he continued — I know Nico was cleared of actually impeding Lewis, but something doesn’t feel right about the way those two have been driving lately. It’s starting to become concerning.

— Oh non, mon loup — Aurelie cooed — We can’t have you stressed out before your big day tomorrow. Let me help you relax.

— No, you don’t have to do that, I’ll be — he was interrupted by Aurélie pressing on his shoulder a little to get him to lie flat on his back. She slowly climbed on top of him, sitting on his hips.

— Please, mon loup — she purred — I can make you feel so good.

— Well… Okay — Toto whispered. 

Aurélie leaned down and started kissing his face and neck. Her kisses were soft at first, but quickly became more urgent and a little forceful, with her biting his lip a little bit. Toto didn’t dislike it, per se, but all he could think about was the frenetic, passionate kiss that he and Elisabeth shared in Brackley. 

If he closed his eyes, he could practically place himself at that moment in time again — the moment their mutual anger with each other morphed into mutual passion. He could almost feel the way Elisabeth’s hands felt on the back of his neck, grasping at him as if to draw him impossibly closer than he already was after he laid her down on the conference table. He could feel the relative coolness of the wood of the table on the back of his hands as he cradled the back of Elisabeth’s head. He remembered everything about those few minutes in sharp detail — the way her perfume smelled, the texture of the fabric of her woolen winter coat, the way the crimson red pashmina scarf she was wearing felt like it was in the way and how badly he wanted to take it off to mark the delicate skin underneath. 

His hands traveled down Aurélie’s back, feeling the way the satin fabric of her nightgown hugged the delicate curve of her spine, all the way down to her butt. But his mind kept picturing Elisabeth, with her charming smile, the sweet scent of her perfume, and the way she touched him so passionately.

Things progressed, and Aurélie shed her nightgown. Her body was perfect. But, Toto had recently seen pictures of Elisabeth at the beach with her brothers. In the photos, she was wearing a black bikini, and her curves, always covered by well-tailored dresses and blazers, were fully visible. So, too, was her perfect ass. The thought of touching Elisabeth there made him sink his fingers into Aurélie's skin. He kept his eyes closed. In his mind, Toto could see Elisabeth on top of him, grinding against him, her face flushed with arousal, a devilish smirk on her pretty face.

It didn't take long for him to feel the woman on top of him reposition herself and sink onto his cock with a long, satisfied sigh. He held back the urge to moan her name as she slowly moved her hips. Her blue eyes stared at him intensely, as if they wanted to capture every change in his expression. Then, he finally realized if he concentrated hard enough, he could see Elisabeth riding him, moaning at every thrust of her hips, massaging her clit against his public bone. If he kept his eyes closed, he could see himself inside of Elisabeth, feeling her contracting around him. If he kept himself focused, he could feel Elisabeth’s beautiful breasts, with their rose-colored nipples, bouncing in his hands. 

— You’re so good for me, my pretty little girl — he said, quietly. He was getting dangerously close to his release, doubtlessly being pulled along by the vision of Elisabeth on top of him, her brown hair falling in front of her face as she picked up her pace, supporting herself on his abdomen.

However, the answer was not what he expected.

— Yes, mon loup, just for you — he heard a French accent instead of Elisabeth’s Austrian accent. Taken by surprise, Toto opened his eyes, seeing Aurélie, with her cheeks flushed and lips open in a moan as she came. The feeling of her contracting around him pulling him over the edge. Toto held back the urge to moan Elisabeth's name, biting his tongue and allowing just a grunt.

Seconds later, she collapsed onto his chest, both of them sweaty and breathless. 

— That was amazing, mon loup — she said, encircling her arms around his neck, her lips brushing over his — You were so amazing for me. I am so glad that you’re mine. 

“But I’m not… Yours”, he thought.

He kissed her back, but it felt like he was going through the motions.

It didn’t help him relax as much as it physically tired him out, but it was all the same in the end. Toto laid awake a little longer, staring at the woman sleeping across his naked chest. “You’re so beautiful, and so kind to me”, he thought. “It’s a shame, because I already belong to someone else. She just… Doesn’t feel the same way”. He stroked his fingers through Aurelie’s blonde strands until he was finally able to fall asleep.

The sound of a muffled clack snapped Toto out of his daydreams. It came from the bathroom. Elisabeth must have just set something on the bathroom counter — her hairbrush, perhaps. He had been mindlessly fussing with his cufflinks, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d been in his daze. He checked his watch — they had a bit more time before they had to leave, but it felt like she’d been in the bathroom for a while. 

He smiled, realizing that the woman in the bathroom was the woman he was supposed to be with all along. It had taken a while to get there, and the wait was painful… But he couldn’t say it wasn’t worth it. 

Later on that night, they were back in their room. 

They had divested each other of their clothes, and Elisabeth straddled Toto’s lap, making sure to leave a trail of lipstick marks down his neck and chest. When she took off his pants, Elisabeth laughed when she saw that his underwear was stained with lipstick. So was his dick.

— So… Help me clean off the stains, baby — he said, with a smirk.

— Of course, Mr. Wolff — she answered, lining her hips up before sinking onto his cock, a long sigh leaving her pretty red lips, followed by his name, just a whisper. She let herself relax around him for a moment before starting to move her hips, gasping at the pleasurable sensation. Beneath her, Toto brought his hands up to her thighs, enjoying the sight of her moving slowly over him, his lower lip between his teeth.

— You look so pretty like that, Liesl — he mumbled, his fingers digging at her skin.

— Like what? — she gasped, as she started to move up and down his shaft.

— With my cock inside you.

She smiled.

— You don't look bad inside me either, my love.

— And how do I feel, baby? — Toto asked, thrusting up to meet the movements of her hips, going even deeper. A moan escaped her lips, the nails scratching his abdomen.

— Good — Elisabeth whispered, her eyes rolling back in her head — So good. So fucking good.

It didn't take long for her to establish a rhythm, leaning forward with her hands on Toto’s shoulders to give her leverage. Toto was completely absorbed in the sight of her, with her hair hanging down in brown waves over her shoulders, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted. The sounds leaving them each time she lowered her hips almost angelic. 

Her breasts were something else. Firm and rounded with rosy, sensitive nipples, they made anything she wore look sexy. Sliding his hands down her body, Toto's hands reached for her chest, his thumbs circling the sensitive skin until her nipples perked up. 

He looked up into Elisabeth’s face and was immediately consumed by the pleasure she was drawing from him. He was sure he had died and gone to heaven. As he was listening to her moans, Toto was surprised as her fingers found his wrists, pressing his hands against her breasts.

— Harder — she whined, breathless — Harder.

Massaging and kneading her skin, he could feel himself getting close. Elisabeth was too, if the way she was squeezing around him was any indication. Her thrusts became faster and sloppier as she started using her own fingers to stimulate herself.

Elisabeth had always been an independent woman, and it even showed in the way she made love to him. For Toto, there was nothing sexier than a woman who knew her body and knew what she liked, and could show him exactly how she liked to be touched and stimulated, whether it was with his fingers, his mouth, or his dick. However, he couldn’t ever remember ever seeing her touch herself in the middle of sex. Her face was contorted into a mixture between agony and pleasure. She was getting close, but her release still eluded her.

— Want help, baby? — he whispered. One of his hands slid down her torso, taking her hand away, using his thumb to make circular motions against her clit. Elisabeth’s moans and whimpers grew louder.

— Yes, yes, like that — she mumbled, her eyes completely shut, her head thrown back. While the sight of her completely surrendered to pleasure was wonderful, something was missing.

And Toto knew exactly what it was.

— Baby, I want you to look at me — Toto said. He was out of breath. Her eyelids fluttered and her blue eyes soon met his, darkening with desire. Toto watched her, enraptured, while meaningless words escaped her lips.

— Yes, yes, yes, oh my God — she moaned, her eyes threatening to close — I’m… I’m coming, I’m coming…

— Yes, my pretty little girl, eyes on me — he said before she came, her eyes rolling and a broken moan leaving her lips. Her climax tipped him over the edge and he practically chanted her name as he came inside of her like he always did, his legs quivering and his hands squeezing her hips. Toto’s eyes were on her face, absorbing her expressions while the aftershocks rocked her body, making her muscles twitch.

It still felt good to be wanted.

They laid in bed afterward, entangled in each other. Elisabeth was laying on Toto’s chest, her head resting on his sternum, listening to the sound of his heartbeat slowing down as they both relaxed.  He ran his fingers softly down her spine, chuckling at the way it made her skin erupt with goosebumps. 

— Toto? — Elisabeth said, quietly. She moved her head to look at him as she spoke — Can I ask you something?

— Of course — Toto said, bending forward a bit to kiss Elisabeth’s forehead — Anything.

— You always want me to look at you while we’re having sex, to keep my eyes open. You’ve insisted ever since the first time we did, in Sochi. I don’t mind, but… Why?

Toto smiled, bringing one of his hands to cradle Elisabeth’s head in his palm, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

— I guess… It's because when I’m with you, I feel like I’m in a dream. I like to keep my eyes open so that I know that you’re real, and so I can see how I make you feel. You look so beautiful, and seeing you so happy and knowing that I make you feel so good… It makes me feel good, too. And I want you to see how you make me feel every time I’m with you. I know it sounds a bit… Silly, maybe, but it’s true.

Elisabeth smiled. 

— That’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard — she turned her head to kiss his palm — I love you, honey. You are a dream come true for me.

[libraryofloveletters]

Its gonna sound random but florist!Carlos and Queen!reader, they are finally married after all the obstacles of getting approval from the kingdom. Every christmas the decor will always be grand in their home, public never complain about spending budget because for Christmas Carlos manage to grow his own flowers for his little family ❤️

no because this is so sweet 

The hallways were empty aside from the staff, your husband was who you were looking for. Carlos has a tendency to get turned around in the massive building, well rather, castle. 

He hadn't grown up the same way you did; you being part of the royal family and him being an ordinary guy. You met him when he dropped off the floral arrangement for the winter gala years ago, the two of you were teenagers and it felt like a million years ago. He wasn’t aware that you were the princess, he didn’t keep up with the royal family nor did he care much about them. 

Carlos was the first person to treat you like a normal person and you loved that about him. 

It was frowned upon to marry outside of upper class/royal blood but you said fuck the rules truthfully and did what made you happy, you could care less about your title. 

Years of pushing your family to accept him, threatening to leave and almost actually leaving was what it took for you to finally get official approval as if you hadn't been dating him all this time. 

Nonetheless, you two finally got the go ahead to get married. 

Carlos had a little piece of the royal garden to himself, it’s where he liked to sneak off too when things got too tough. That’s exactly where you found him that morning. 

The sun shining down on the garden as you walked through, your hand resting on your baby bump as you took careful steps over the dewy grass. 

“Darling, we have people to do that.” You call to your husband when you see him trimming a bundle of roses from the garden. 

He turns to look at you, smiling as he stands. “I know, but I like to do it myself.” It’s who he was, he had a green thumb and you knew he enjoyed it so you left him be. 

“I know,” you smile, giving him a kiss before sitting on the bench. 

It was the one thing he asked for when they asked what he wanted in his part of the garden; somewhere for you to sit and admire him work. He was next to you, a basket of roses and tulips resting between the two of you on the floor. 

“It’s beautiful out,” you say, looking up at the sky and you can feel his eyes on you. “It is.” 

You turn to look at him, smiling. “You left so early, didn’t even get a chance to say hello.” 

“Well, hello.” He smiles, his hand pressed to your bump. The little lady knows her father’s voice, kicking his hand in response. 

“Merry Christmas, Carlos.” Your hand rests on his. He smiles, leaning in to kiss you, “Merry Christmas, corazón.”  

[imgntn1933]

*THE HANDSOME GENO STAR ROAD*

### A Night of Elegance in the Classic Hall

On a beautiful night, Geno, the renowned hero from Mario RPG, attended a classic gala held in a grand mansion styled after the 1890s era. That evening, Geno appeared in the most elegant attire: a black tailcoat, a white shirt, a bow tie, and a tall top hat. This ensemble made him look exceptionally handsome and captivating.

As Geno arrived at the front of the mansion, gas lamps illuminated the night with a soft glow, creating a magical ambiance. Geno stepped out of the horse-drawn carriage that brought him there. As he set foot on the entrance steps, the women guests around him immediately took notice.

"Who is that handsome gentleman?" whispered a young lady in a light blue gown to her friend.

"He must be a nobleman!" her friend replied, gazing at Geno with sparkling eyes.

Geno confidently walked towards the main door of the mansion. Every step he took was accompanied by whispers of admiration from the ladies standing by the stairs. A friendly smile graced his face, making him even more enchanting.

"That gentleman... he is so handsome," said another young lady in an elegant red gown to her companion.

"What a perfect appearance," her friend, dressed in an emerald green gown, replied, covering her mouth with a fan to hide her nervousness.

Geno finally reached the mansion's inner corridor, filled with luxurious decorations and glistening crystal chandeliers. The ladies standing along the corridor couldn't help but notice him as well.

"I've never seen a man like him," whispered a girl with long blonde hair.

"He’s sure to capture everyone's attention tonight," another girl replied, smiling shyly.

Geno walked gracefully through the corridor, aware of the significant impact of his appearance. He gave a friendly smile to everyone he met, adding to his already overflowing charm.

When he finally entered the main hall of the gala, all eyes were on him. The ladies whispered to one another, praising his handsomeness and charisma. Geno stepped inside, ready to enjoy a night filled with elegance and luxury, knowing that he had captured many hearts simply with his presence.

In the main hall, the gala was in full swing. Classical music played beautifully, and the guests danced gracefully. Geno became the center of attention, surrounded by ladies eager to talk and dance with him. That night, Geno was not just a hero, but also a star shining brightly in the crowd, creating beautiful memories in the hearts of everyone present.

THE END