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#rent a mercedes for a day
rentzluxury01 · 2 years
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Mercedes car on rent in Delhi NCR
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carluxuae · 10 months
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forzalando · 8 months
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Orange Theory
Charles Leclerc x best friend!reader (female reader)
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summary: charles and his best friend do countless nice things for each other, but they're just behaving like any good friend would. right? wc: 2.5k author's note: ok guys so this is not the Charles fic i promised (she is still a WIP and i will finish her eventually. probably will have to be a multi-part fic with how long it's getting), but i hope you enjoy this one in the meantime! special thanks to @scuderiahoney for encouragement and inspiration. special thanks to @sof1shticated for reading and assuring me this doesn't suck. if you haven't read their fics, both Lee and Mel have some gems that i adore. HIGHLY recommend checking out their masterlists! warnings: none!
You loved summer break – Charles was home for at least a few weeks, days spent on a yacht, every afternoon and evening spent with friends either at dinner or out at some club until someone got too drunk to carry on.
Today was, in your humble opinion, the perfect day. All of your friends, courtesy of Charles, were sprawled out on the sun deck of a rented boat or splashing around in the water below. You could feel the heat radiating off of Lando as he laid next to you and whispered about how McLaren was making insane upgrades – according to him, they might just have a race-winning car in the second half of the season.
“Are you boring my best friend to tears, Norris?” The brutal sun disappeared behind Charles’ body as he stood above you – as if on instinct, he shifted slightly so that you could look up at him and not be blinded by its rays.
“She’s hanging on my every word, right, Y/N? In fact, she asked me how I’m feeling about Zandvoort and the rest of the season.”
“And?” Charles asked, a small smile on his face.
“Like I would tell you what’s going on with the car! I know Y/N can keep a secret, she would never betray me to a prancing horse. She bleeds papaya.”
You laughed along with Lando – the one point of contention that had always existed in your friendship with Charles. Of course, you became a Ferrari fan because of him, but you’d always been a McLaren and Mercedes loyalist. It was something that Lando, Oscar, and George relished in.
“Alright, alright, no need to rub it in, Norris,” you giggled. “What can I do for you, Charlie?”
“I just came to give you this.”
Within seconds, a perfectly peeled orange dropped in your lap. Lando’s eyes grew wide for a moment but a swift glare from Charles had his face back to normal in no time. You missed the interaction, jumping up from your seat in excitement.
“Aw, Charlie! You are the best friend a girl could ask for,” you chirped as you started separating the wedges of fruit.
“Ah, don’t mention it,” he sighed, waving his citrus-scented hand in the air. “There’s more in the cooler if you want! Freshly peeled!”
“Thank you, mon cher ami.” You quickly kissed his cheek, noticing as you pulled away just how red it was, along with his neck and the tips of his ears. “Charles! How many times do I have to tell you to put on sunscreen? Your face and neck are fried!”
“I don’t think it’s from the sun,” Lando mumbled, his eyes trained on the fruit in your hands. With Charles insisting he was fine, you could barely hear what he had said.
“What did you say, Lan?” You asked, turning your attention away from Charles for a moment.
Once again, Lando was met with a menacing glare and he laughed awkwardly before moving his gaze to the horizon.
“Nothing, nothing, Y/N. Just thinking out loud.”
Shrugging your shoulders, you turned back to Charles and handed him the orange he had just given to you. With your now free hands, you rifled through your beach bag until you found the SPF 50 face cream you had packed that morning with Charles in mind.
“Here, I packed this for you. Please put some on so I don’t have to worry about you getting sun poisoning,” you pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes.
Charles stared without answering for far too long – anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask him and he’d do it. Even without you gazing at him with your wide, siren eyes, he would give you the world if you so desired it.
He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of the daze caused by your pleading eyes. “Oui, ma fleur, I will put on the sun cream. Je promets.”
You smiled in triumph, taking the orange back from Charles and bidding him a “see you later” before laying back down in your lounger. Popping an orange slice into your mouth, you let out a contented sigh. Somehow, whether Charles was magic or he had some serious connections in the produce world, the fruit he picked out and gave to you always tasted better than anything you bought yourself.
“He peels your oranges for you?”
You hummed and turned to Lando – “what, Lan?”
“Does Charles always peel your oranges for you?”
“Well, no, obviously not always. Why?”
Before Lando could answer, Lily plopped down next to you and stole an orange slice from your hand.
“I swear,” she huffed, “Alex and George are competitive to begin with, but when they get together, it’s unbearable. They’ve been having a “who can hold their breath the longest” contest for the past thirty minutes! Rematch after rematch after rematch, I called in my favor with Oscar to get out of judging their little competition.”
“As if either of them could beat me, they probably didn’t ask me to join because they’re scared,” Lando bragged. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat, go show them how it’s done.”
As Lando walked towards the edge of the boat, you and Lily turned towards one another.
“Men,” you scoffed in unison, following it up with belly laughs and lingering giggles.
As the laughter died down, Lily ate the orange slice she had stolen from you and practically moaned in delight. “Where did you get this orange? It might be the best I’ve ever had!”
“It’s from Charles! I was just thinking about this, I don’t know how he does it but he always has the best fruit. Every time he brings me any I am both ecstatic and pissed off – my fruit is never as good as his and we shop at the same grocery store!”
“Well, does he have any more oranges? I could eat 20 of these.”
“He said he left me more in his cooler, let me grab them.”
A few moments later, you walked back to Lily with a bag of peeled oranges in your right hand and two bottles of water in your left.
“Are you a professional orange peeler? You were only gone for two minutes.”
“Oh no,” you giggled, “Charles peeled them for me. He knows I don’t like peeling them so when he can, he always does it for me.”
“Y/N,” Lily looked at you suspiciously, “do you know what the orange peel theory is?”
You wracked your brain but came up empty. “No, what is it?”
Lily went into a brief explanation – something about how it became a viral tik tok challenge, people asking their partners if they would peel an orange for them and how it was an indicator of true love, soulmates, a healthy relationship, and everything in between. “Well, that’s just silly,” you mumbled through chews, orange juice dribbling down your chin. “I think it just means someone is a good person – Charlie and I aren’t anything more than friends and he peels my oranges, among other things, because he has a good heart.”
“Among other things?” Lily pressed you, her eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place.
“He slices my apples because I have never been able to master the apple corer contraption! And he takes all my grapes off the stems when he’s at my place because I never do – it’s too tedious.”
“What else?”
“Oh, when we go out to breakfast, he always brings me a tea when he picks me up. He’s an early riser and I take forever to get ready. He knows I never have time to make it myself when we have plans before 10am.”
Lily was smirking at you, no, smiling at you. It was a little unnerving, the way she was entirely amused at the information you were giving her. However, the moment was briefly interrupted by the arrival of Alex.
“What are we talking about, ladies?” He spoke cheerfully, a broad smile on his face which meant that he was most likely declared the best breath holder of the 2019 rookies.
“Y/N was just telling me about all the sweet things Charles does for her,” Lily gushed.
“Oh god, when is he not doing things for her? Did you see him buttering her bread for her at dinner last week?”
Lily burst out laughing while you playfully punched Alex’s arm. “I’m indecisive! He butters it for me while I read the menu since it takes me so long to figure out what I want to order. It saves time!”
“He does that on a regular basis?” Alex asked incredulously, looking at Lily with wide eyes. “My god, that man is head over heels.”
“Alex,” you protested, “Charles is not in love with me. We’ve been friends for six years, I think I would know by now.”
“You’re both impossible,” Alex groaned. “Come on, Lily, I just came over to get you so we could play water polo with George and Carmen.”
Lily sighed in defeat, though she had a smile on her face at the thought of spending time with Alex even if it meant another competition. “I’ll see you, later, yeah?” She called over her shoulder, waving goodbye as you teased her by dramatically eating another slice of orange and settling back in your chair. At the front of the boat, Charles was laughing with Pierre and almost as if he felt you looking, he turned around and met your gaze.
Even though you had just wholly denied anything more than friendship between you and him, you couldn’t help but think about your interactions with Lily and Alex.
Sure, Charles sometimes did things that were out of the ordinary for ‘just friends’, but he had the sweetest soul of anyone you’d ever met. He always sacrificed his umbrella or jacket for you, made sure you had fresh tulips in your apartment when he was home in between races, had your favorite meal delivered to you when you were having a rough day while he was away and you missed him.
You did things for him too – cleaned his apartment when you knew he was on his way back to Monaco, left him plenty of sticky notes with words of encouragement if he was coming back from a bad race, stocked his fridge full of his favorite things. Recently, you’d been gifting him annotated books because he mentioned he wanted to read more and always enjoyed listening to you talk about your favorite novels. Since you spent most of the year apart, you decided he could at least read your thoughts.
When you could come to races, unfortunately a rare occurrence due to your graduate classes and work schedule, he made sure Ferrari hospitality had your favorite flavor of sparkling water on hand. Anytime you saw a cute dog video, you would send it to him because they always made him smile.
You’d do anything to make him smile, just as he would for you, which is what a good friend would do. A best friend, it’s what a best friend would do.
But best friends didn’t linger in doorways and stare at each other’s lips when bidding each other goodnight. They didn’t cuddle close and fall asleep in each other’s arms on a couch while watching whatever movie you had chosen because he always let you choose.
They didn’t look at one another the way Charles was looking at you now – his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and a dopey smile on his face. He waved to you and dramatically blew you a kiss, something he always did when he caught your eye across a room, no matter who was around.
You practically launched yourself to your feet, the last remaining orange slices in your lap falling to the lounger and staining the seat with juice. It was only seconds until you were standing in front of Charles but the walk over felt like an eternity with the way the world around you disappeared and your heart pounded in your chest.
“Est-ce que tu maimes, Charles?”
The question came out in one breath, your chest heaving in anticipation for his response.
“Of course, I love you, ma fleur,” he laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”
“No,” you panted. “Do you love me, Charlie? Est-ce que tu maimes?”
“Of course, I love you,” he answered again, his eyes shining and a small smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Every time I think of you, I love you. Every time I breathe, I love you.”
“Every time you peel my oranges?” You whispered, holding up your orange juice-stained fingertips. He took your right hand in his and held it up to his face to kiss your palm, his eyelashes fluttering against you gently.
“Especially when I peel your oranges. Did you know that I hate doing it too? Like, really hate it. I don’t even peel them for myself.”
You gasped in shock, watching as he threw his head back and laughed jovially.
“I’d do anything for you, ma fleur. Mon soleil. Mon cœur.”
“Would you kiss me?”
“Maybe if Pierre would leave and stop gawking at us.”
This time you threw your head back to laugh, Charles soon joining you as Pierre protested the accusation.
“No, no,” he shouted, “you didn’t even give me a chance to leave. Just started declaring your love before I knew what was happening. Which, by the way, was so obvious it was starting to get annoying. We’ve all tried dropping hints to both of you so I don’t know who got through to you, Y/N, but – ”
“Pierre!” You shouted, eyes wide and arm gesturing him away from the two of you.
“Ah, désolé, I’m leaving,” he grumbled, almost tripping over his own feet to get away as quickly as possible.
You giggled again and Charles gripped your chin softly, pulling your eyes away from Pierre and back to face him.
He leaned in gently, as if he was afraid you would back away and regret taking the leap to go from friends to something so much more.
He tasted like salt water, smelled like sweet fruit and sunscreen – you smiled into the kiss knowing that he had listened to you and put it on, even though you knew he hated the way it felt on his skin.
His fingers gripped your waist and yours trailed up his chest – both of you slightly sticky from the citrus juices and sweat from the sun.
You pulled away and nudged his nose with yours, breathing him in and wishing that this moment would never end. Charles lowered you both to the sun deck, adjusting until you were sitting between his legs and his arms were wrapped firmly around you, the two of you facing the sunset and open sea.
After a few moments, you broke the shared silence. “You know, I would have happily peeled an orange for you if you had ever asked me,” you asserted.
Charles’ hold on you softened at your admission, the thinly veiled meaning not at all lost on him as he pressed his lips to your cheek.
“I love you too, Y/N.”
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ningvory · 7 months
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♡ birthday sex ┊ jang wonyoung
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parings — girlfriend!wonyoung x girlfriend!femreader
synopsis — your girlfriend always gives you the best birthdays but this year she’s gonna make this birthday unforgettable.
warnings — birthday sex, friends to lovers, size kink, fingering, pleasure dom wony, wony's a fashion designer, praise kink, tribbing, making out, overstimulation, slight voice kink, lil bit of eye contact, readers shorter than wony, if you see any grammar or spelling mistakes ignore it pls😭
a/n — made this for my amazing pookie @hearts-4-vicky !! happy birthday pretty girl, hope you had an amazing day, i love youuu!! <33
w/c — 1.2k (1,248)
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wonyoung always loved spoiling you on your birthday! even when the two of you were just friends, she’s always made an effort to make each and every birthday completely different from the previous one. beside’s her birthday, your birthday is your favorite day but not because it’s the day that you turn a new age—it was your favorite because she always made your day so special.
so of course your birthday this year was just as special as the previous one. you’re wearing the red silk dress that wonyoung designed herself, you're basically her pretty little muse because she loves to create new outfits for you, she makes them perfectly designed just for you.
“wony, you didn’t have to do this all for me, isn’t this expensive?” you question, looking up at your girlfriend. you were leaving the empty fancy restaurant that she rented out.
“how many times to i have to tell you baby? i want to do this this, so let me spoil you.” she smiles at you before kissing your forehead.
“every time i think you just can’t get anymore gorgeous but, you always prove me wrong.” she adds on which has you involuntarily blushing.
“i should be the one saying that.” you mutter out. but it was true, you always cherish the times you have with her. you wish you could be able to give her everything she’s given you but she always says, ‘your love is all i need, baby’ and that’s exactly what you give her.
you two eventually get to wonyoung’s red mercedes benz, her arm wrapped around your waist as she opens the passengers door, letting you get it before closing it.
“nights not over yet, got one last surprise for you.” she said after she opened her car door, winking at you with a smile.
it left you excited but nervous, you didn’t know what to expect at your apartment. you didn’t even know what she did because you've been at her apartment for 2 days.
when you arrived at your apartment you were in complete shock, the house was decorated in red flowers and balloons. a cake that said ‘happy birthday’ was on the dinner table with a bouquet of flowers.
“omg, wony~ literally you’re the best girlfriend ever.” you squeal, giving her the tightest hug and littering her face with kisses.
“that’s what you are to me.” she rests her hand on your waist, bringing you close to her before pulling you in for a kiss.
your hands were resting on her soft cheeks, eyes closed and moving your lips with hers. tongues fighting for dominance until you lost, her tongue began exploring your mouth making you let out soft whines until she pulled away, letting you inhale some air.
she bites her lip before checking you out, “you don’t know how hard it was for me to not pull you into the bathroom and just ruin you.” she smirks, she really outdid herself with the dress. it brought out every detail and curve of your body and she’s been gawking at you ever since your put it on.
“let’s carry this to the bedroom, yeah?” she says, taking off your heels and dragging you to your room.
she pushes you to the bed, lips puffy from your last make-out sesh with her and hair sprayed all over your bed. the bedroom lighting made you look ethereal, she couldn’t wait to ruin you.
she undresses herself, leaving herself in nothing but her bra and panties before crawling on top of you. she starts to kiss you passionately once again, slowly unzipping your dress. she starts sucking on your neck as she removes the dress from your body.
“fuck, you’re so perfect, baby. wearing my favorite lingerie.” her tone is low and sultry, groping your tits with one hand and the other slowly rubbing your clothed cunt, she’s got you letting out soft moans from just a little groping and teasing already.
“wony~ don’t be a tease please,” you whine out, your panties were already soaked from her voice and her teasing.
she starts to slowly take off your panties, lowly chuckling at your juices that created thick strings that connects your panties to your cunt. she didn’t waste another second after taking your panties off, she was knuckles deep into your cunt with one hand and the other rubbing your clit softly, making you grip onto the bed sheets and release the cutest moans and whimpers she’s ever heard.
“so pretty f’me, wish you could see how pretty you are. taking my fingers so well.” she says, making you clench around her long fingers that were pumping into your wet cunny.
she fucks you slowly, making sure you feel her long fingers inside you while she takes in your pretty face making adorable expressions and pretty noises from the pleasure. it had her own panties soaked.
“look at me while i fuck you, baby or i’ll stop.” she speaks out, making you force your eyes open and stare right in her eyes with such a lewd expression she couldn't help but coo at.
she thinks it’s adorable how you try your best to keep your eyes open. her fingers were pumping into your gushing cunt and her thumb rubbing your clit quicker than before. the feeling in your tummy was at its climax and about to snap at any moment.
when it finally snapped, your eyes couldn’t help but roll back and your back arched, letting out the whiniest moan you let out the whole night as her finger became drenched in your cum.
she pulls her cum-drenched fingers out and sticks them in her mouth, moaning at your taste and pulling them out of her mouth.
“you taste as good as always, baby.” she teases before taking her soaked panties off.
you were rapidly breathing, that was one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had. trying to catch your breathe before you felt her raise your leg up and slide her longer leg on top of yours.
“w-wony! w-wait..!!” you desperately tell her but it was too late for that. she was grinding her wet cunt on yours, getting your cum smeared all over hers.
“too much!” you try and push her off but to no avail, she’s got you pinned down your shoulders to the bed, pressing all her weight onto you and rendering you unable to move.
“you can give me another one right, baby? don’t you want me to cum too?” she asks which has you nodding your head, letting her use your abused cunt.
drool and your high pitched moans were spilling out your mouth, back arching from the sensation of her cunt rubbing on yours. her back was arched and moans were falling out her mouth, grinding her cunt even quicker on yours, desperately chasing the high that she craves.
“wony—baby! m’gonna—ah!” you try and warn her but a whine cuts your words off and your squirting all over her cunt, your thighs, and the bed sheets.
that seems to take wony over the edge because she’s cumming all over you with a whine. it’s such a mess, both your juices are smeared all over both of your cunts.
she pulls away from your cunt, laying on the bed and pulling you to lay on top of her chest. your eyes were dazed and looking up at her, making her giggle and kiss your forehead.
“happy birthday, my love.”
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wttcsms · 1 year
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we play our fantasies out in real life ways ; shouto todoroki.
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pairing shouto todoroki x f!reader  word count 2.7k  synopsis knocking up his sugar baby seems (and feels) like a dream come true for the future ceo and youngest son of japan’s richest conglomerate family. content contains sugar daddy!shouto, yandere themes, car sex, creampie, breeding kink, quirkless au, ceo!shouto, tiny daddy kink author’s notes this is a repost of an old fic but pls tell me we are still horny 4 shouto. also ignore the Tesla promo, i was feeling silly when i wrote this </3
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He can have anything he wants, you know.
And of course you know this. Of course you do. It’s hard to ignore this fact whenever he’s the exact reason your closet is overflowing with more dresses than you know what to do with; why your dresser can barely stay shut due to the amount of lacy lingerie you’ve had to shove in them; why you’re a third year college student driving to campus with a brand new Mercedes that technically isn’t even supposed to be out on the market ‘til next month. 
He can have anything he wants, and because you’re his, by extension, you have the power to make all your material wishes come true, too. All you have to do is ask him.
All you have to do is look up at him and give him those puppy dog eyes of yours and say, “please, daddy, can I cum?” and he’ll let you. You know he will, because stoic Shouto Todoroki, the future CEO and prized son of the Todoroki clan that happens to be one of the most famous conglomerate families in all of Japan, just can’t seem to say no to you. He signs off multi-billion yen deals as easily as one blinks and running multiple companies is just something he’s been born to do. It’s no easy feat to give commands to such a powerful man. 
And yet, one look and a tiny whimper is all it takes to turn him into putty in your hands. 
It’s always an out of body experience when you’re with Shouto. Being with him is like constantly being the main character of a movie. He rents out entire restaurants so the two of you can dine away from prying eyes. He sends you good morning and good night texts every single day. (One time you joked about him forcing his assistant to do it because there’s no way a busy man like him would ever have time to do something so insignificant; he didn’t like that you couldn’t seem to wrap your head around the concept of you being someone very important to him.) Shouto is incredibly good to you, incredibly good for you.
He’s incredibly good with a lot of things. Taking care of you, for one. Taking care of all his businesses, for another. And right now, he’s taking real good care of your cunt when he’s got three of his fingers knuckles deep in you. 
The windows to his sleek, outrageously priced car are tinted so dark, even you struggle to see through the windshield. You always tell him it’s dangerous, but he reminds you that there are always reasons for the things he does. You wonder if getting tinted windows so he could fuck his college student sugar baby with some semblance of privacy is the reason. 
And then all thinking on your end comes to a stop when he nips at the skin of your neck, biting down softly and getting you to let out a tiny whimper. It doesn’t hurt. You don’t think Shouto is even capable of hurting you; not because you’re some unbreakable being, but because you don’t think the calloused hands that have caressed every centimeter of your body is capable of harming you. 
The two of you are currently parked in the lot right outside the building where his main office is located. In about ten minutes, the parking lot will be flooded with employees who have just clocked out and are getting ready to speed home. In about ten minutes, anyone could accidentally (or purposely) become a little voyeur to the activities going down in the future CEO’s luxury car. 
Your back is pressed against his chest. More often than not, you find yourself naked while he’s practically still dressed, and it’s the same thing that’s happening right now. The buttons on his shirt are digging into your back, but you can’t find it in you to complain. Instead, you focus on gripping the wrist of the hand that’s in between your thighs. The sleeves of his button down shirt are rolled up, and if you take your tiny fingers just a bit higher, you can feel the veins running down his arm. 
“Tell me what you want, baby.” The baritone of his voice is smooth, calm, collected — in control. Because you can make any request in the world, and Shouto will fulfill it for you, but that does not mean that you are the one who makes the final decisions. At the end of the day, everything you have, everything that is given to you, is because of him, because of the decisions he makes for you.
His eagerness to gift you the world thinly veils the true depth of your submission to him. A subconscious part of you is well aware of the power imbalance in this relationship, but if all has been well these past two years, then surely it’ll only be smooth sailing from here?
You lean back, leaning into his warmth, breathing deeply to inhale the scent of his spicy cologne that costs more than your textbooks (that he bought for you). 
“D-daddy.” You moan out, trying to coax him deeper in your tight little cunt, as if his fingers aren’t already as deep as they can go, spreading out your hole to prep you for what he knows you truly crave. 
“You’ve got to speak up, love. I can’t give you anything if you don’t tell me what to give you.” His breath is warm against your ear, and it’s so hot in the car. So, so hot. You wonder if it’s just you feeling the heat, though. Shouto seems as collected as ever, not the least bit uncomfortable at all. 
“Mmm — w-want you.” You wriggle a bit in his lap, but his free hand grips your side and squeezes you with a firm, nonverbal command to stop moving. You do, immediately. Because that’s what you always do: follow his command. 
“I know you do.” He coos, finally moving his fingers. It’s agonizingly slow, too slow. The car is silent save for your little pants and the obscene wet sounds that come as a result of his fingers thrusting in your wet cunt. 
“Faster, daddy.” You whine out, looking up at him. The sun is setting, and despite the tint of the windows, the orange glow from the sun still shines against his smooth skin, casting his face into something that’s half sunset/half shadow. It’s a good look; a sharp contrast that matches his hair. Seeing your blatant admiration of him only spurs him to give in and go faster. He had planned on drawing this out for as long as he possibly could. He had originally wanted to coax you into as many orgasms ‘til you were nothing but a fucked out little mess, too worn out to pay attention or even care when he finishes your little session with you plugged up with his cum. 
The lives of children born into the Todoroki family are more cursed than it is blessed, and Shouto had, a very long time ago, made a vow that he would never continue the bloodline. He would have no children, which would be easy because he planned on never having a lover.
And then he met you, started providing for you, realized how much he enjoyed providing, and realized even more that the only way to strengthen this transactional relationship is by forcing your hand. He likes to think that you would stay with him willingly, but there are some chances that he’s just not willing to take; there are some extremes that he’s all too entirely happy to go far to, though. 
Your sweet moans mix in well with the lewd sounds of your pussy getting thoroughly fingerfucked. His fingers are so much longer than yours, can reach spots inside of you that you can’t quite reach yourself. He’s efficient with anything and everything he does, and you’re not surprised when he doesn’t slow his pace. The consistent strokes of his fingers, your lowered inhibitions when around Shouto, and the look on his face (equal parts concentration and adoration) all help in making you cum all over his hand. 
“Good girl.” Shouto whispers, removing his fingers and holding his hand up. The sunlight beaming through makes his digits glisten even more, and you’re enraptured as you watch him bring his fingers to his lips to suck your essence off of them. Piercing heterochromatic eyes never leave yours as he sucks on them, and you have to turn away from embarrassment. How can he keep such a straight face when literally licking your cum off his fingers? 
“Don’t turn away from me.” His hand — still wet — grips your chin and forces you to look at him again. “I don’t like it when you shy away from me.” 
You nod meekly, and Shouto sighs. 
“You shouldn’t be shy around me. I don’t like making you feel uncomfortable, you know that, don’t you?” 
You nod again, a subtle, barely there move. He’s not impressed. 
“Answer me properly.” There’s a hard edge to his tone, and you sit up a little straighter. Shouto would never lay a hand on you with the intent to physically harm you, but he’s not above roughing you up during sex. You’ve heard him get this way before, and the imprint of his fingertips and the purple hickeys littering your poor body took three days to fade properly. 
“I’m sorry, daddy.” You say with a pout, trying to conjure up any sort of leniency he can spare. Judging by his facial expression and the wavering look in his eyes, he’s already softening up. You just have to make it up to him now to have his complete forgiveness.
Maneuvering in the limited space the driver’s seat gives is no easy task, but you manage to shift positions to where you’re straddling his lap, finally facing him properly. He’s leaned back, watching you with a hungry glint in his eyes that makes you feel like the most wanted girl in all of Japan. A surge of heat flows through your body, from the tips of your ears to your cheeks and all the way down to between your thighs. If you were in a different position, you could clench them together, try to rub your thighs in an attempt to ease the need for friction. 
Your fingers make quick work of his belt and his zipper, pulling down on both the waistband of his slacks and his briefs to finally free his cock. He’s already hard, and you admire the way your hand can’t even wrap fully around him. The tip is flushed red, pearly beads of precum already present. 
This is the part where you look up at him, almost as if you’re unsure about what to do. You don’t know what it does to him, to see you sitting on his lap with his cock looking outrageously large in your tiny hands. He can see your pretty pussy practically dripping all over his slacks. Now’s not the time for you to be playing the role of an innocent, unsure little girl, but then it hits him: you’re asking him for permission. He almost lets out a bark of laughter. 
“You’ve already taken it upon yourself to tear into my pants and make a grab for my cock. Surely you don’t expect me to beg to fuck your little hole now, do you?” He has a cold smile on his face as he brings you closer to him. “I thought this was my apology. Don’t tell me you’re going to make me do all the work?”
“O-of course not!” You look startled at the suggestion, eyes going big and round. He looks at you expectantly, as if telling you to do something. 
It always burns when you first take him. It doesn’t matter how many times he makes you cums, doesn’t matter how long he spends stretching you out on his fingers. By now, your pussy should have memorized the feel of his dick, should have been moulded to fit him and only him. And while there’s a tiny flash of pain and discomfort for you (which Shouto hates), it’s hard not to be in love with the feel of just how tight you are. 
The stinging pain is brief, though, and is easily replaced by one of satisfaction from being stuffed by the prettiest, fattest cock you’ve ever taken in your life. 
You moan, rocking your hips back and forth. Maybe this was originally supposed to be an apology to him, but it feels more like you’re using him as your own personal toy, and Shouto really couldn’t care less. After all, if it brings you pleasure, it brings him pleasure. 
“Are you enjoying yourself, baby? What would happen if I never met you, hmm? Are you willing to spread those pretty legs of yours for any man?” He says the last sentence with a tone sharper than usual. You shake your head as you continue to rut against him, chasing after your own high because you might not be a simpleminded slut for anyone, but you are nothing more than a cockslut when it comes to Shouto. 
“Ah — fuck, fuck, fuck!” You moan out, falling against his chest, burying your face into the space between his shoulder and neck. “D-daddy, fuck!”
He holds you close to him as you cum, not even minding the mess you’ve made of his work pants. “Daddy’s got you.” He coos, his hand finding the back of your neck and squeezing you there, gently. “You must be tired now…”
You’re still too fucked out to really comprehend what’s exactly going on ‘til it’s happening, but even with your slow reaction times, you still manage to let out a slutty moan as you feel Shouto thrusting up into you. It must be uncomfortable, you think. This position doesn’t make it exactly easy for him to chase after his own pleasure, but then you remember that Shouto Todoroki doesn’t back down or break down when it comes to challenges.
He perseveres. 
You’re like a rag doll, like a personal little fucktoy, made for him to use (and maybe even break) as he pleases. Every thrust is sharp and intense, and his teeth are clenched as he continues to use you, enjoying the warmth of your tight walls and admiring the ring of white that coats and clings to his dick every time he pulls out. 
It doesn’t take him much longer to finally finish; he grabs you by your hips, raising you slightly before abruptly pushing you down on his cock, making sure that he’s nestled as deeply in you as he can be when he finally cums. He’s breathing a bit harder as he comes down, and then he’s grabbing you by your hair, making you stare at him. 
His cheeks are flushed, there’s some slight sweat building up on his forehead, his shirt is wrinkled. He’s never looked better. You’ve never felt better. 
Or, more accurately, never felt fuller. 
“Shouto, did you c…” You can’t even finish the sentence. Did you cum inside? Not like you have to; you know the answer. Some of it is dripping out of you. 
All he does is give you that small smile, the one that he rarely lets anyone see, and starts up the car. 
If he doesn’t want to talk now, there’s no way you can get him to answer properly. You try to remove yourself from his lap and make your ungraceful, disgusting journey to the passenger seat, but Shouto places a firm hand on your waist, forcing you back down.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Shouto, you can’t possibly drive while I’m sitting here on your lap.”
“I bought a Tesla for a reason.” 
Right. Because everything Shouto does has a reason for it.
You think about this on the drive back to his penthouse, a little bit of fear building up in your lower belly. Shouto does everything for a reason, and what’s the reason for any man cumming inside?
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gurugirl · 9 months
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Can We Start Over? | Ch. 1 The Winter Ball
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Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers
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A/N: This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).
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Chapter 1. Summary: You meet Harry at your boss's retirement party and your night ends with a bang.
Word Count: 10k
Warning: 18+ only, smut, alcohol consumption, angst
Can We Start Over? masterlist
The winter ball was something Mr. Spector threw every year for his clients, colleagues, and other wealthy people he wanted to be seen with. This one was like the past three you’d attended, but unlike the others, this would be the last. Your boss, Mr. Spector was retiring, and he was moving to Italy. You were happy for him. Truly. He’d been good to you the past three and half years you spent working for him. You took on the duty of a personal assistant and friend. The friend part came naturally, of course. It wasn’t part of your job description but you honestly really liked Mr. Spector. He wasn’t nice to most people. But to you, he was kind of like the dad you never had. He was hard-nosed but he was fair and somehow you two just clicked.
You worked for one of the most elite household talent staffing companies out there. Your clients usually consisted of, not just wealthy people, but filthy rich and usually the kind that wanted to fly under the radar and needed the utmost discretion. In Mr. Spector’s case, he didn’t want his spiteful children to know how much he was really worth. Sure they were in the will, and they’d certainly do well upon his passing (that was all they seemed to care about), but they’d never see the real number of his assets until it was too late and everything was already doled out according to Mr. Spector’s wishes.
And so you helped him in any way you could to achieve this façade. You found a private accountant for him to move money about and helped him keep the appearance of not having the kind of money he actually did. You suggested, for example, that he not buy the Rolls Royce but that the Mercedes should be sufficient, and that rather than wearing a 31-million-dollar Patek Philippe, diamond-encrusted watch, he go with the more basic, 25-thousand-dollar stainless steel sports model Rolex instead. So he still maintained an air of wealth and prestige because there was no question to anyone that he was super rich. But you just helped him bring it down a notch.
And his winter ball was more like his retirement party this time around. He’d really gone all out. Despite your hesitation with some of his selections, you figured you’d give him this one. And you could admit that helping to plan his parties was one of your favorite tasks. You’d fly to venues all over the world seeking the best (once they’d been narrowed down of course) for him. Find the best chefs and mixologists, the perfect planners and decorators. You got to help select finishings, menus, and staff, right down to the types of linen and even the theme of the events.
And the theme of the night was A Secret Garden in the City. For this, you found a penthouse in Manhattan with full 360-degree views. The space was empty when you first arrived to look at it. You were told it wasn’t a place normally rented for parties but that the owner had intended to make it a fancy restaurant at some point. But it had been sitting for years, empty. And you found the place because Mr. Spector knew everyone. You had a number for a real estate agent to the wealthy in New York City and he gave you a bit of insider information. The penthouse space, he’d told you, could be negotiated by the owner to rent given the right price.
You had landscapers come in and make a garden of the space. Flowers, grass, trees, bushes, vines, even a lily pad pond… when everything was put together, it really did look like you were in a secret garden in the middle of Manhattan. Delicate string lights lit the space, the ceiling was painted a dark sky color so it felt as if you were outside. The table settings were like something out of a Hobbit’s Tale with knotty oak chairs with green silk cushions. The linens were of green satin silk with gold embroidery design and the napkins were gold satin. Centerpieces were potted leafy plants of all types, and moss was placed around the pots to give them that fairyland look. Tiny candles illuminated each table all around. Gold cutlery. Big golden lighted globes hung from the ceiling in various sizes between plants that cascaded down. It really was quite the spectacle.
You were proud of how it all turned out. And the 200 guests that Mr. Spector invited all appeared to be in awe of the space.
The stringed music playing for most of the event in the background was live. The musicians stood to the side of the room on a newly installed platform, trees lined the back of the stage. And now that the night was finally coming to an end, well, the main event had ended, it was time to drink and dance and let loose, the band was switched out for something rockier and more upbeat.
Mr. Spector kissed your cheek and gripped your arm, “My dear, you never cease to astonish me with your hard work. Thank you for this. I’ll see you in the morning okay?”
You tried to get him to stay and enjoy the after-party. And like every year before, he declined. He liked his private time. Liked reading and writing and the quiet. He preferred his guests to enjoy what he’d been able to give them. It was, after all, for them, he always said.
“Even though it’s your last event like this? You won’t get this again, sir. Are you sure?” You smiled at him and he nodded. You knew he’d decline to stay.
So, you ordered your second cocktail of the night once Mr. Spector left. Some type of green concoction with a blackberry-sized red flower floating atop. You didn’t know what was in it. All you knew was that it tasted delicious and it was going to get you into some trouble. But maybe that’s what you were looking for that evening. After all, this was your going away party as well. You’d be put back into the system as active again once you were officially out of Mr. Spector’s employ. It would be time to find your next role.
Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. Many dancing, some sitting and chatting, others making their rounds to network and schmooze. You stayed at the edge of the dance area and let your body move to the rhythm. You kept your eyes on everyone. Even though you were trying to just enjoy yourself you still felt somewhat responsible for all the attendees. It was ingrained in you.
You definitely fit in with everyone, though. Your outfit was couture, high fashion like the rest of the guests. Mr. Spector had paid for everything for you, as always. You picked out a beautiful cowl neck, deep navy-blue velvet dress with a slit that went up to your mid-thigh. The back draped down tastefully but the drape at the front was dangerously low. Just like you wanted. You had red pumps with gold and ruby jewelry. It was always difficult finding things in your size that weren’t from a big box store but the hunt for the perfect dress and accessories was always worth it. And the dress? You felt absolutely sexy. From head to toe.
The song was swingy and fun. More people covered the dance floor and somehow you’d gotten pushed further in. You still had your drink in hand but now it was nearly empty so you were less worried about spilling any of the liquid on yourself.
A woman you recognized as a small IT business owner greeted you and you both chatted as you danced together. When the song changed Elsie pointed at your drink, “You’re low. So am I,” she lifted her glass to show you, “Should we grab more?”
The answer that night was yes. Yes to anything.
The bar that lined the wall opposite the band had people hovering, waiting for their drinks. You let Elsie take the lead in getting the attention of the bartender. She was a tall, slender blond with smooth shiny hair so you figured she’d do better at getting your drinks faster. And you were used to that. Being the fat one, you tended to get overlooked and ignored. When you were younger it hurt a lot more, but these days you learned to use it to your advantage.
It wasn’t that you thought you were ugly or unworthy. You just understood how most people perceived you, even if they were wrong. You were confident when it mattered and took good care of yourself. And you rarely ever mistook a man’s kindness for him flirting with you, which was nice in a way. You couldn’t ever wrap your mind around assuming every guy who was kind to you was flirting. A lot of your friends had that mentality. Any time a man would chat them up they’d automatically jump to thinking they were being sized up somehow. You couldn’t imagine feeling so confident that you thought a man having a conversation with you meant anything more.
So that’s why when the tall, gorgeous man with dark, soft curls, sharp green eyes, and an even sharper jawline leaned in and asked, “Are you having a good time?” You didn’t assume he was flirting with you.
“I definitely am. How about you?” You turned to look up at him. Deep pink lips, broad shoulders, a very expensive suit and shoes, cocky grin.
“Sure. But I had to fly out here to attend last minute. My assistant forgot to add the event to my calendar so I had to settle for this suit and here I am. I’ll deal with her later. Luckily Alfred always throws the biggest and best parties so it’s been worth it.”
You noted the tiny dig to his assistant in the back of your mind and nodded, “Yeah, Mr. Spector loves to go big. It’s turned out great I think.” You had planned on mentioning you were the man of the night’s assistant until Mr. Cocky complained about his own. So you’d keep that little detail to yourself.
He was drinking whisky, neat. And when Elsie finally returned to your spot at the edge of the bar she handed you your tasty green drink and you introduced her.
“Elsie, this is… uh… What was your name?”
“I’m Harry. Harry Styles,” he held his hand out, gaudy rings on most of his fingers toward the pretty blond and she nodded, “Elsie Powers. Nice to meet you.”
The pair got to talking the moment Elsie mentioned her company and so you decided to dip out. You didn’t need to stand around and watch them flirt, which is what you assumed was going on. They were both gorgeous so that seemed natural to you.
But before you could take even a step outside of the little bubble the three of you were in you felt Harry’s hand at your low back as he leaned down to speak into your ear, “Don’t go too far. I was hoping to ask you something.”
You looked down at his arm and back into his eyes, “Okay… I’ll be around. You can come find me.”
When his fingers slid off your back as you stepped away you still felt the heat of his skin where he’d touched you. You liked his touch, but you assumed it happened because you took up so much space. It was more likely, in your mind, that he hadn’t meant to touch you there at all.
After another cocktail and a bit more dancing by yourself, Harry did find you. You didn’t realize it was him at first. You felt a warm body dancing behind you, not touching, just near enough that the heat emanated from him to your back. But then you heard his voice, “Found you. Thought you left.”
You turned to look at him over your shoulder and spoke, “Was planning on staying til the end. Felt like I deserved to enjoy tonight.”
“And why’s that?” Harry’s hand brushed along your bare arm softly before he removed it. You felt the trail of where he’d touched your arm and it made you wonder if he’d done it on purpose.
“No reason. I just deserve it,” you kept swaying your hips and you felt Harry moving with you, standing over you. You could smell his cologne.
“You don’t mind me dancing with you, do you?” His voice was close to your neck as he spoke.
Shaking your head you turned your body to face him, swinging your hips softly, “Not at all.”
He grinned down at you and the dimple that appeared on his cheek had you taken aback. He was truly stunning.
“Good. Wanted to chat some with you. Find out more about you…” he took your hand in his and pulled you closer, shifting the mood a little as you both danced. You silently inhaled in surprise at his gesture.
“And what did you want to know, Mr. Styles?” You raised your brows and smirked at him. You weren’t sure at that point what he was doing. But he was certainly leading you to believe this was more than just a friendly chat.
“First, what’s your name?”
You laughed, “I’m Y/n. I guess I forgot to introduce myself.”
“Are you here alone, Y/n?” His free hand found a spot on your side over your hip.
“I am. What about you?” You weren’t used to receiving this kind of attention from anyone. Much less a wealthy handsome man.
“I’m here alone too,” he kept a cocky grin plastered to his face as he drew nearer and spoke lowly so only you could hear, “But was hoping I wouldn’t be leaving alone.”
It was at that moment you were truly surprised. Was he…? Couldn’t be. You’d surely misread this situation just in the way all your pretty girlfriends misread it every time a guy showed any friendliness. Maybe it was the three cocktails you’d drank and that had you wondering what was in them.
Harry's hand released yours and he brought his ringed fingers up to your shoulder where he brushed the side of your neck, drawing you in closer with his other hand at your hip, “What about you?”
You blinked your eyes and looked up at him in confusion, “What about me? What do you mean?”
Harry’s grin deepened as he looked down at your mouth and took a clear glance at your cleavage before responding, “Did you hope to leave with someone tonight?”
You scoffed and looked around the dance floor before looking back at him, still not quite believing the direction this conversation was headed, “I hadn’t imagined I would leave with anyone. Figured I’d just go back to my hotel room alone after.”
The ridiculously attractive man licked his lips and kept his gaze on yours, “Really? You don’t want someone to take you back to their room and help you out of this pretty dress tonight?”
You began to cough. You’d choked on your own saliva as you inhaled a sharp breath at the wrong moment. His words caught you off guard.
But now you were hacking and bent at the waist, red in the face like an idiot.
Harry patted your back and you heard him speak into your ear, “You okay, darling? Need some water?”
When you’d recovered you and Harry were standing at the edge of the dancefloor away from the crowd and he had a comforting hand on your back.
You laughed and shook your head, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened…” you wiped your face, which was moist from the tears you’d forced out from all the coughing.
Harry took your hand and led you to a free seat, pulling a chair out for you and then sitting next to you, his hand still on your back, “Do you feel better now?”
You nodded and smiled at him. You hadn’t forgotten what he said. But now you were sure whatever he was getting at was all but out the window after your little display.
“Come back with me to my room, Y/n.”
Well, that just blasted your little theory.
You sat up straight and your jaw dropped open wide, “Why?”
Harry laughed, “Because I don’t want to go back alone. Spend the night with me tonight.”
Were you in a dream? Had you drunk too much and were blacked out and hallucinating?
“I don’t… I’m not sure what you…” you were unable to put your thoughts together coherently. You hadn’t expected it. You assumed you weren’t his type. Too chunky for a man like him. Imagined he preferred a more modelesque figure on women he found attractive given his appearance.
“Look. I’ll just be very straightforward with you. I think you’re gorgeous and I’d like to have you in my bed tonight. Naked. How does that sound to you?”
You whispered the word naked back to him as if it were a word you’d never heard before. You took a deep breath and looked around the room.
“What are you drinking? I’ll go get us another so we can chat a bit before you make any decisions.”
Now this question was one you could actually answer, “The cocktail is one from the menu. Called the Grove.”
Harry got up and left you at the table by yourself. You sat back in the seat and sighed. What were you going to do? He was mouth-watering, which is why you choked on your spit in the first place. Your mouth was literally watering at his proximity on the dance floor. And now he was asking you to go back to his room to hook up. He couldn’t have made it clearer. There was no room for you to misinterpret what he meant.
And why should you say no? Why should you go back to your own room and sleep in that big bed all by yourself? Well, mostly because you were worried about getting attached. Sure you didn’t even know the guy but that’s just how you were. You weren’t built for casual hookups or one-night stands. And you were sure that’s all this would be. Could you handle it? Would you be able to have sex with someone and then move on from it?
When you saw Harry walking back toward you you’d made up your mind. You’d finish your drink and tell him your verdict. You needed one more drink, though. Just to really loosen up. If you were going to do this if you were going to take a risk and have sex with a stranger, one more drink would help you relax about the whole situation.
Harry handed you your cocktail and sat down with his whisky in hand. He brushed his fingers over your arm as he spoke about how he knew Mr. Spector, “His cousin was my boss years ago. Before I got started in my current line of business. And since then, Alfred’s been inviting me to his parties. I can’t usually go but I rarely miss the winter ball.”
“And what is your line of business?” You asked before taking another sip of your verdant drink.
Harry grinned and licked his lips, “Let’s not talk business.”
You frowned and looked down at your red-painted nails. It wasn’t always polite to ask people what they did for a living but you figured given the circumstances, those being that he’d just asked you to have sex with him, it was okay. Clearly, you’d misjudged.
Harry gripped your chin and pushed your head back up to look at him, “Don’t feel bad for asking. You were just curious. I think the less we know of one another the better. Besides, work talk is boring. Don’t you think?”
You blinked again, his intense gaze was really working its way under your skin.
“Okay. Sorry. You’re right.”
Harry shook his head, keeping his hand at your chin, “And don’t say you’re sorry. Wouldn’t you rather talk about anything but work right now?” He let go of your chin and sat back in his chair as he kept his eyes on yours.
“I guess. It’s just that everyone here is networking and I thought it was only natural.”
“You and I are not networking, Y/n.” Harry grinned.
By the time your drink was but a clear puddle of melted ice at the bottom of the glass, you could feel how hot your face was from the alcohol. Your neck and ears were burning and all of Harry’s soft touches were making you fuzzy. The way he was whispering in your ear…
“Okay. I’ll go with you to your room tonight,” you spat out quickly before you could change your mind.
Harry’s gaze lowered to your breasts again, his arrogant grin in place, “I know, darling. I was just waiting for you to admit it. You ready then?”
If he wasn’t so hot you’d have changed your mind at his cocky response. But god was he alluring. And somehow, his egotistical attitude was putting you at ease a bit. Because it would possibly be much easier to not get your feelings mixed up for a guy like him. It could just be a one-night stand. Like so many other people indulged in (which you always found absurd).
You both walked to the coat check to get your things before Harry led you, with his hand at your low back to the elevators.
You draped your wool coat over your shoulders and stood awkwardly in the elevator next to the man you were leaving with. You couldn’t believe yourself. You were 28 years old so it shouldn’t have felt like such a big deal but it was. You’d never done anything like it before.
“Are you nervous?”
You sighed and nodded as you looked up at the man, “A little. Haven’t ever done anything like this.”
Harry hummed and nodded, “I can tell. That’s okay. I’ll take the lead.”
There was a black car waiting for you at the curb as soon as you exited the building. A man who was standing near the car opened the back door and gestured for you to get in. You followed behind Harry and the door was shut, closing you off from the outside and loud noises of the city to the dark leather interior of the car. Harry’s hand slid up your exposed thigh the moment you’d settled into the seat, “We’re gonna have a lot of fun, me and you.”
You turned your head to look at him, “Are you always like this? So confident about everything?”
Harry laughed and squeezed at your thigh, “If I wasn’t confident I wouldn’t be as successful as I am.”
You guessed that made sense. You just found it so strange that he was so sure of himself even when he hardly knew you at all.
You felt Harry’s long, ringed fingers slide upward over your plushy thighs in search of your panties most likely. And when he leaned over you and took your jaw with his free hand and smushed his mouth against yours it felt like crystalized water beginning to melt and drip and pool onto the ground.
He pulled your hand onto his lap and pressed your palm over his crotch, to which you felt as he grew harder and harder as the seconds passed with your lips connected.
When he was satisfied that you would be keeping your hand in place as you pressed down harder he raised his hand to your breast, his palm placed over the soft velvet before he lowered his mouth to your neck causing you to lean back the slightest for his access.
The car ride ended before you even realized you’d been moving through the city streets when the door you were sitting next to opened and the driver looked in at you two all disheveled and mid-kiss with his hand out for you to take.
Harry walked you into the hotel, which happened to be the same one you had a room at (how convenient you thought). The elevator ride up to his room was not unlike the car ride where you’d lost track of time and space when his lips were on yours and his tongue softly swiped at your mouth. You’d never had a man act this way with you before. It almost felt like desperation. Like he couldn’t keep his hands off you.
Guiding you off the elevator and to his room, you felt buzzy and your heart was bouncing around in your chest wildly. His hand was at the back of your neck, his long fingers gently ghosting over your skin.
The moment you were pushed into his room Harry stood over you and began to loosen his tie, “Take your dress off. God, I need to see you.”
You were already worked up as you panted, keeping your eyes on his, slowly unzipping the back of your dress and stepping out. You had forgotten that you were wearing a nude shapewear slip that kept your tummy rolls in place and your breasts pert. The back of the slip was low cut to accommodate your dress. You looked down over yourself and stuck your fingers into the fabric to pull it down and as your breasts were revealed Harry groaned and leaned down to wrap his pink lips over your nipple. You watched his tongue drag over your plump flesh and his fingers dig into your heavy tits as he worked his way around both sides.
You were pressed against the wall as he pinned your arms back and kissed his way up your tits to your neck and then he found your lips.
Finally, he backed away, giving you space to finish the reveal of your body to him as he continued removing his own clothes.
You watched tattoos appear on his skin and the more buttons he undid the more you saw of him. He was strong and muscular. His pecs were impressive and he had a soft six-pack hidden under the fabric that you only saw once he tossed his shirt off. Tattoos on his arms scattered over his skin.
Tugging at your slip to get it off you knew Harry’s eyes were on your body. But you weren’t going to stop now. Even if you were slightly embarrassed. This was happening and you knew he wanted it. Sometimes you worried about the logistics of sex being as heavy as you were, especially when it came to being with a guy who was not at all. But Harry’s build was masculine and broad and he was clearly going to be able to handle you.
When his pants were off and he was down to his underwear you knew he was enjoying the view of all your bits based on the thick lump under the fabric. You were left standing in your silky black panties when he stood over you and smoothed his hands up your arms and palmed over your tits, “Jesus fucking Christ look at you. Get on the bed for me.”
You swallowed and stepped toward the area of the room where the bed was and sat at the edge, watching as he stalked after you. His eyes were dark as he crawled over you and nudged you with him into the middle of the perfectly made bed, soft and luxurious feeling under your skin.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he smoothed his lips against yours as he palmed over your skin down to your thigh, pinching at the fleshy insides as he pushed your legs open, putting his knees down into the mattress to keep you spread with his thighs.
He kept his lips working over yours, his tongue smearing against your tongue wetly as you felt his fingers dip down to your panties and then to the wet patch at your center. You could tell you were wet before he even touched you. He’d turned you on with ease. His voice, his body, his eyes, his confidence…
You felt him smile against your lips when he dredged his fingers up and down over your wet panties, right where your labia was. Soft strokes of his fingers pushed the fabric of your panties between your pussylips until he dragged a finger up and found your clit and you gasped. He circled over your clit, pressing the wet fabric into you.
When he lowered himself, using his lips and his tongue down your body as he went he looked up at your face after dotting kisses over your fleshy tummy, “You’re gorgeous and you smell so good. Such a dirty girl, though, aren’t you?” He dabbed more warm kisses down your stomach to just above your panties, “All wet for me like you’re desperate for cock,” he licked along the band of your panties and looked up at you again as he adjusted himself between your legs, “Are you desperate for cock, Y/n? Need me to take care of you tonight?”
You nodded, “Oh my god…” your words came out as a whisper, “Yes, Harry.”
When you felt his tongue glide up your crease over your wet panties your mouth dropped open wide. He was not holding back with the foreplay so far. You were usually disappointed in sex, the few times you’d had it. Foreplay was an afterthought. And only a handful of times did you ever receive any kind of mouth-to-pussy action, which you assumed was due to your size.
But Harry was having no trouble treating you like some kind of irresistible sex pot. He pushed your thighs harder and raked his tongue up and down over you until you’d bucked upward just a bit.
Harry’s fingers pulled at the waistband of your panties, “Taking these off because I need more.”
You felt your panties being moved down your legs then Harry returned with enthusiasm, his lips all over your cunt, sliding his tongue through your folds and his fingers pinching into your flesh before he poked the tip of his wet muscle to your clit and began to lick all around it, lapping you up and teasing you to the point you were shaking and whining, proving him right about how desperate you were.
When he finally stopped his teasing licks he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. You gasped loudly and moaned, to which Harry moaned into your pussy.
His shoulders were against the back of your thighs as he masterfully licked you out and kissed your clit until you were reaching down with one hand to slide your fingers into his thick curls.
And that only seemed to stir something more ravenous in him. He growled when he felt you pulling at his roots and suddenly you felt his fingertips at your entrance before he pushed them in slowly, the metal of his rings being nudged in the slightest. You were in an alternate universe. Somewhere that only existed you and Harry and the bed you were on as you laid spread out for him to pleasure.
He was good with his tongue. He used it over your clit like he understood what you needed, putting pressure where it was vital and then slurping you into his mouth making your entire body quiver in ecstasy. His repeated movements, soft tonguing, pulling at your clit, the bump of his fingers through your walls and into your delicate warmth, the precipice of your orgasm was taunting you.
“Harry!” You yelped when he sucked your clit in especially roughly and his fingers dug in deep making your pussy squelch.
He smiled and lifted his mouth, speaking against your cunt, hot breath coating your labia and clit, “Feels good, Y/n? You gonna let me give you an orgasm?”
You moaned pitifully and nodded to yourself as you scrunched your face when he attached his wet lips back to your clit and curled his fingers just right, “Yes! Oh my god…”
You had never felt anything like it before. Like Harry. And maybe it wasn’t that he was all that good at cunnilingus (he was), but perhaps it was the way he was handling you. The way he was so eager to make you feel good. The way he wasn’t worried about his own throbbing cock between his legs, growing heavier by the minute as he sucked and licked and kissed your cunt.
His focus was on you completely and you felt that. You felt his attention and his devotion to your pleasure before his. And that was what did it for you. It was the care and thoughtfulness of it all. It wasn’t like anything you’d experienced with any man before and it pushed you over the edge.
Your orgasm rolled out of you in waves as you writhed under him and cried curses and nonsense into the room. He held you down with one hand as well as he could so he could lavish you with his mouth until you were done with your unraveling. His fingers stroked your insides as you pulsed around them and felt the tingle of your clit being overwhelmed by his lips. You gasped and laughed at the way he continued ravaging you well past what was necessary.
Releasing his hair you pushed yourself up by your elbows to see his face still between your legs, his eyes closed like he was enjoying it just as much as you had. It might have been the hottest thing you’d ever seen in your life. But that could have been all those feel-good chemicals being released in your brain post-orgasm.
You pushed at his forehead to indicate you were done, “Okay!” You tried closing your legs but Harry pulled his fingers from your pussy and pressed you down as he licked up and up and up. Until finally he opened his eyes and looked at you, lips still making out with your pussy as you laughed and tried pulling away.
“It’s too much!” You giggled and moved your hips under him.
Finally, he parted from your labia and pushed himself up over you, caging you in as he hovered, “Good?” He raised his brows.
You rolled your eyes, “Obviously.” You laughed as you spoke.
Harry grinned and you watched him move away from you, pulling his underwear down and exposing his weighty cock, thick and long. Yes. He’d be able to handle you just fine.
He grasped it in his hand and moved next to you. You sat up and reached out to feel him, velvety and warm under your palm before getting to your knees and looking up at him as you lowered your lips to his shaft. You wanted to feel it on your mouth and in your mouth.
Dragging your wetted lips down until you reached the base you gripped him and tongued your way up to his tip and heard a shallow gasp from his chest. Licking around his crown you pulled at his skin and wrapped your lips around just the very tip of his head before slipping your tongue around him and sucking softly.
A beautiful deep moan was music to your ears. He was enjoying it. So you indulgently lowered yourself down a bit more, feeling the width of him take up space inside your mouth and on your tongue. Gentle strokes of your lips over the top part of his shaft and over his swollen head felt good for you. You hadn’t given head in a long time. And you could tell Harry was into it.
He smelled good. Nice and clean and warm. You used your hand to pull at the base of his shaft up to your parted lips as you sucked on him and lapped around his skin.
When Harry’s moans turned into a rhythmic panting you felt his hand at your jaw, nudging you up until your lips were pulled away from his pretty cock, “You are desperate for cock. Sucking me like that? If I didn’t want fuck you so bad I’d let you finish me off with that gorgeous mouth.”
You shifted back as Harry leaned over you and pressed his mouth against yours, his hand at your neck pushing you down into the mattress. His mouth was wet and smelled like you as he smeared his lips on yours. You moaned when he parted from you and got off the bed.
You could hear the crinkling of the wrapper from the condom as he sorted himself out and then crawled back next to you, taking your hand, “How’s that sound, Y/n? Want my cock inside your soft pussy? Hmm?”
Looking down at his hard length, covered in a condom, and back into his eyes you nodded, “Yeah,” you were breathless.
The grin on Harry’s face as he moved between your legs, his eyes on yours was like someone who’d just gotten the best news they’d heard all day. He thread his fingers through yours, pressing the back of your hand down into the mattress near your head.
The front of his strong thighs pushed against the inside of yours as he positioned himself over you. His cock heavy on your belly before he moved back, letting go of your hand to grasp himself.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good. I want to hear how good it makes you feel, okay?” His tip dragged through your wet labia, up and down, “Just lie there like the pretty little thing you are, and let me fuck you deep.”
You nodded as you watched his eyes. He was looking down at where his cock was brushing over your wet and puffy pussylips, his lips parted as he bumped into your clit and then smacked his girth down over you.
The sound of his cock dragging through your arousal made you feel like a different person. No man had ever taken the time to indulge the way Harry was. It was clear by the look on his face that he liked everything he saw and even how soaked you were.
You felt the tip of his broad head nudge into your entrance as he looked at you with dark pupils. He pulled his brows together as he savored the feel of you and gently pushed through the ring of your wet muscle. Just knowing that you were making him feel like that had you moaning with your eyes locked on his.
“Feel that, Y/n?” He slowly dipped in and pulled back, wetting the condom as he went, pushing in deeper on each thrust forward.
“I feel it…” your words came out shaky as his length was forced through your slick walls, spreading your insides apart slowly.
Harry inhaled a breath and let out a deep moan when his cock reached as far as he could take it, “Taking my cock so good,” he pulled back and looked down at the scene between your legs. All wet and puffy, his cock coated in your creamy arousal. He loved the way your pussy gripped him and your labia stretched around his cock, “Gonna be dreaming of this,” he pressed his thumb over the space where his cock was moving into your entrance and then up to your clit to rub circles softly, wet and warm.
“Ohhh…” you whimpered when his thumb pressed into your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your entire body was boiling and buzzing as Harry rocked into you, his balls thwacking slowly into your ass.
“Yeah? Tell me how you like it, pretty girl.”
How could you answer this man with his dick lodged so deep in your tummy? How did he expect you to make a coherent sentence with the way his thumb was stroking your clit back and forth? How could your brain form any sort of response when his cock was dragging through your insides and pressing into all your bits, hitting your hidden spots like his shape was made just for you?
“I want it… Mmm… like that…” was all you could bear to squeak out when he smacked into you in one harsh thud.
“Harder? Softer?” His thumb never ceased the yummy caressing of your fleshy pearl.
“Fuck!” You gasped when he smacked into you again, causing your body to jolt upward from the force.
“Like that? Need it a little rougher, Y/n? Need my cock to split you in half?” Again, a harsh thrust into your guts that had you gurgling and falling apart too soon.
“Oh she wants it a little rough, I can tell. Your cute pussy likes a good pounding doesn’t she?”
You held your breath when you felt him angle over you and sink down into you until it hurt. Until his long cock was buried in so deep his balls were tucked against your ass as he ground himself in, “Pussy like this needs a lot of attention. Lots of care…” he moaned when you clenched around him, “Want me to take care of you? Want to feel what my cock can do to this pretty little pussy?”
“Yes, please, Harry!” You grasped onto his forearm as he rolled solidly into you, deep and slow, slushy and sopping between your thighs.
“Yeah? Gonna stuff myself so far into you that you can’t breathe. Gonna make you come so hard you’ll never want another cock again.”
You moaned and felt his crushing weight over you as he continued grinding his hips against yours but then suddenly he was pulling out and you felt a sting on your thigh when he smacked you, “Get on all fours.”
You were blurry and floaty as you rolled over and pushed yourself up to do as he asked. Your pussy puffy and begging for more of his cock.
His hands gripped the side of your hips tight and you smushed your face down to the mattress before you felt his cock rip into you in one punishing stroke. You cried out and he did it again. And again. His cock pummeled into you repeatedly, punching the air from your lungs and giving your pussy the best fucking of its life.
You did like it hard. A little rough. Nothing wild, just something that you could feel for a couple of days. Something that made you gasp and brace for more.
“Holy fuck…” Harry gritted as he fucked into you, watching his dick disappear repeatedly. Your pretty round bottom bouncing and wiggling at each plunge. He dug his fingers into your ample flesh and spread you out so he could watch as you gripped him exactly like he loved. The little noises you were making had him reeling.
It was his favorite. A beautiful woman with her ass in the air as he railed her deep. But especially when it was a nice big ass. He loved to be able to grip something in his hands. To squeeze and smack. It always felt so much better to have something to hold on to. Not that he didn’t love slender women. He certainly did. But there was nothing like the feminine physique of a woman with meat on her bones, wide hips, a big tummy, and extra bits to touch and run his fingers over. It was fucking sexy.
You could feel him as he worked you open. He buried in deep and then pulled back until his thick tip was being pushed through your entrance again and again. He was long and every inch of him pulled and pushed through your walls, sliding along all your bits and ridges making your skin heat up.
Then you felt his chest against your back and his cock was angled so far inside of you that your eyes nearly crossed, “Love your little gurgles and moans, Y/n. Feels good on my cock?” He rolled into you, keeping himself stuffed to the hilt.
“Yes! Fuck, Harry!” You turned your head to speak so he could hear you and then you felt his lips on your back as he kept rocking into you languidly, never pulling back, only dipping into you, swiveling his hips to ensure you could feel every part of his cock moving through you.
You felt a tear drip from your eye as he reached down for your hand and moved it toward your pussy, “Rub that wet clit, sweet girl. Want to see you quivering under me again.”
The moment your fingertips came into contact with your puffy nub you moaned and all you could feel was Harry’s warmth and his big cock and your clit being worked just how you liked.
He began to rut into you with unforgiving strength. Your body was being smacked into and your skin was beginning to burn where his hips were striking your ass. It felt incredible. It felt like a man who knew what he was doing.
“Yes! Yes!” You shakily cried out. Harry’s long shaft was gliding in and out and you could feel him every time your fingertips moved back the slightest. His heavy cock slipping into your pussy vigorously as you ran your fingers back and forth, up and down on your clit.
Harry put a hand on your low back and settled his thumb into the top of your crack as he watched your cunt swallow him on each thrust. He bit his lip at the gorgeous sight and lowered his other hand to your right cheek, pulling at your flesh to give himself a better look at how you were taking him. How perfect you were for his cock.
When he noticed your moans growing louder and more desperate and then saw your thighs shaking he pounded into you with deliberate, long strokes so you could really feel him inside of you.
And feel him you did. His length filled you up and pulled back, before pressing back in until your world began to spin and your pussy was powerless to your orgasm. You reared yourself back onto his cock and cried out pathetically as Harry breathed heavily and felt your cunt sucking him in and spasming around him.
“Oh, baby…” he moaned and watched more cream coat his cock from your pussy. You were coming hard, lips wide open as you cried out and gasped, and the way you were clenching around his cock felt like the best thing he’d ever experienced during sex. You were fucking sexy.
When your voice lowered and your body stopped quivering Harry halted his movements and ran his hands on your back gently and down to your bum, keeping his cock lodged inside of you, “Creamed all over my cock, Y/n,” swiped his thumb around the area where you two were connected and lifted it to his mouth to taste.
You panted and smiled into the blanket when he suddenly pulled out and popped your bottom with his palm, “On your back. Want to see that pretty face again.”
You were on the verge of being completely wiped out. You knew he hadn’t come yet, though, and you felt like he deserved it with how fucking good he was. Two orgasms already. That was unheard of for you.
Harry helped you situate and he fit himself between your thighs. You looked down at his cock and noted he was right about you creaming all over him. White gobs of your arousal at his shaft and in the thatch of dark, trimmed hair at his base. God his cock was good.
“You feel so good on my cock, Y/n. You know that?” He pressed his tip inside of you, making you drop your mouth open and he gasped. The way he stretched you apart was insane. It felt incredible.
“Fuck… your pussy needs my cock inside of her. Yeah? I could fuck this sweet cunt all day and never get tired of it. Fuck, baby…” he moaned his words as he thrust into you, his hips dragging against you and your clit being pushed into with each plunge.
You took your breasts in your palms and kneaded at them as you watched Harry’s face twist up in rapturous despair. Every roll of his hips was torture for him. His body wanted to come but he had planned on you having one more orgasm. Wanted to feel you squeezing and pulsing around him as he came with you. The decadence of being able to feel your pussy coming around him as he was pouring into you would be bliss.
The edge of his hairline was wet with sweat. You knew he was working hard to give you his cock the way you needed it. His arms were flexing as he held himself up over you, back and thighs clenching and stretching as his muscles exerted, loosening and tightening.
Now there was no slap of skin or the sound of thuds filling the room, it was only hot breaths and gasps and wet pussy being fucked. The occasional distant sound of people moving past his suite on their way to their own.
Deeper and deeper he stuffed himself as he kept his radiant green eyes locked on your face. Your insides were bowing and tensing and vibrating with delight. It was the best you’d ever gotten and his handsome face watching you had your head spinning and your body melting under him. He was too good. The way he was tugging his cock inside of you and stroking your walls and fitting himself deep into your guts like he was trying to reach up into your spine and your lungs under your ribcage… it was going to stick with you for a long time. And he was probably right. You’d be dreaming of his cock. You were sure of it.
His pacing was perfect; smooth, wet thrusts and a satisfying angle that had your whole body resonating with sex and electric crackles like you’d never felt. His undulating hips kissing your clit each time he ground into you.
“Look at your tits jiggling, Y/n. Fucking so hot…” he panted his words like he was out of breath, “Damn baby,” he moaned as he slowed his stride for a moment to collect himself. His balls were already tightening against his body, ready to release too soon.
He leaned over you and pressed his lips against yours and it made your skin and pores and nerves spark and convect. Little by little your pulse accelerated until you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. His tongue inside your mouth and his perfect cock inside of your tummy, the smell of him and of you and the soft bed beneath your back- it had you nearly going up in flames.
When he finally began to move again, when he’d steadied his composure so he could last a little longer you gasped into his mouth.
Now his long strokes were thick and stunted, his shaft inching in and in and in until you couldn’t breathe. His nose pressed into yours and his lips moved around your lips, smearing saliva over your warm, plush mouth with his tongue. It was filthy, the way he kissed. Wet, aching. Like he was fucking your lips with his tongue at the same time he was filling your pussy with his cock.
You felt his muscles begin to shake as he parted from your mouth and looked down at you. Blown-out pupils, pink parted lips, and a flushed face. He was about to come and you could see it on his face and in the way he was panting and getting louder with each jerk of his hips. It was delicious.
“You gonna come, baby? Gonna milk my cock with your cunt, squeeze around me, and drain me?”
Grabbing onto his forearms you nodded and feebly whimpered, “Yes… oh my god…”
Harry groaned as he canted his hips sloppily and his thrusts grew erratic as he held back to wait for you to come first.
You’d always heard of the mythical concept of a cock fitting together perfectly with the right pussy and how it could make women come from penetration alone when they’d never been able to before. You’d never experienced it and thought it was just a made-up fantasy. A wild fable.
But you were wrong. Harry’s cock proved you wrong. He was nudging into things inside of you that even your vibrator missed and as shocking as it was to know you were about to come, yet again, you were of no mind to think too much about that because your body was submitting to the way he was handling you and your pussy was already beginning to flutter around him and pulse as you gasped and dropped your mouth wide.
Yes, you were having one of those kinds of orgasms that you could feel from the inside out. That made your ears feel stuffy and your vision go white as you cried out loudly.
Harry choked out a gasp as soon as he felt your walls gripping him and you tossed your head back, moaning his name over and over again like you needed the room to know who was making you fall apart.
Your pussy wrapped around him so perfectly and he looked down from your perfect tits to your face and he lost it. His own cry of your name was loud as he threw his head back and throbbed, releasing into his condom, his come filling the tip full as you milked him with your pulsing orgasm.
Divine. Complete and utter perfection. He hadn’t come so hard in years and the way you responded to him only coaxed him deeper into his own ecstasy.
When his cock stopped pumping and twitching he opened his eyes and looked down at you looking all fucked out and satisfied. Exactly what he had hoped for when he brought you to his room. Better even.
When your gaze finally found his he smiled down at you. He figured it would be nice to have you again in the morning if you were up for it because he certainly didn’t want to have you leave. Not yet. Maybe he’d order room service and you two could talk some more. Maybe another round or perhaps you’d both just crash after that marathon. But he knew he’d want to give you a parting gift in the morning at the very least. One of those soft and lazy morning fucks before kissing you and sending you off so he could catch his flight the following afternoon.
Yeah. That sounded nice to him.
But the sudden sound of his phone buzzing had him turning to look at the nightstand. You’d barely recovered from your scorching orgasm when he rolled off of you and quickly picked up the phone, his back to you, “Hello?”
You inhaled deeply. You still couldn’t believe you’d just done that. With a stranger nonetheless.
“No, I’m okay. Just ran to grab the phone is all.” He was panting just enough that whoever was on the line had wondered what he’d been doing. You turned your head to look at him. His back was to you.
“Sure, babe. See you then.”
You sat up quickly. Babe?
Harry stood from the bed and picked up his pants, “I’m sure you can get your clothes on and be on your way quickly. Yeah?”
You instinctively covered your chest with your mouth dropped open, “What?!” Harry paused before putting his shirt on and looked at you with an unamused expression, “I said you need to leave.” He raised his voice a notch as if the reason you asked him what was because you hadn’t heard.
You shook your head and slid off the bed feeling dirty and shameful, reaching to the ground for your discarded dress, “I know what you said. I was surprised that you were… never mind.”
The sudden change in his attitude toward you was a shock. He’d been so attentive and affectionate and now he was cold. Inconsiderate. You struggled to keep up with the abrupt shift in his temperament.
Harry walked to the window as you shimmied into your dress and attempted zipping it up, “Fuck…” you mumbled under your dress. The last thing you wanted to do was ask this asshole to help you but really didn’t want to walk out of his room with your dress half unzipped and your ass crack hanging out.
“Can you please help?” You sighed and looked over at him. God, you hated how attractive he was, especially now that he was being so cold to you suddenly.
 Harry silently shook his head to himself as he tucked his shirt in and walked toward you as if it were some terrible chore to help you.
“There. Now I really need you to go. Quickly.”
You hadn’t even had the chance to wipe up in the bathroom or pee. You were stunned at his behavior.
You gave him your dirtiest scowl, scooped up your underwear, and grabbed your small purse, stuffing your bra and panties inside. The slip you had to carry in your hands. As you pulled your shoes back on your feet one at a time, Harry was plucking the condom off the floor and looking around the room in a slight panic.
“Fuck you, Harry. This is rude. You didn’t have to treat me like garbage. Not like I was gonna fall for you or something you prick.” When your feet were securely in your shoes Harry walked across the room toward you as you tried to make your way to the door to leave.
“Y/n?”
You turned to look at him.
“Can you toss this in the garbage near the elevator for me? Thanks,” he pressed the used condom that was stuffed into a tissue into your hand and you nearly lost it. Nearly fucking karate chopped his ass to the ground and stomped on his face. But then you realized something. He was in a hurry to get you out of his room because he had someone coming up to see him. Someone he wanted to hide the condom from. A lover? Girlfriend? Wife?
Instead of responding verbally you flipped him off and slammed the door behind yourself. But before you walked away from the door you pulled the condom from the tissue and put it over his doorknob, nice and tight. The used rubber was still heavy with his come and you smiled as you dropped the tissue onto the floor and pulled out a cocktail napkin and pen from your purse, pressed your lips into it to leave it lightly stained with your leftover lipstick, and then wrote Thank you, Harry xx. You balanced the napkin right over the condom on the doorknob and then grinned to yourself as you walked down the hallway to the elevator. You sure were glad your room was in the same hotel. When the elevator doors opened a pretty blonde stepped off and rushed past you, headed in the direction of Harry’s room. She barely even glanced your way before you stepped onto the elevator and pressed 2 for your floor.
So maybe it wasn’t a terrible ending to the night after all.
Part 2
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raceweek · 4 months
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hello. alexalblondo's rude anon coming here to humbly and politely beg for galex primer because i dont understand their history. george said he lived at alex's family's house at one point? how - weren't they already racing? sorry thank you humble thank you 🙏🙏
hello!!! thanks chris for the referral FKFJDKD
i have overwhelmed my alex and george tags so much that i fear i could never capture all of it but my galex key moment anthology is under the cut!!
karting/early single seaters
Alex thinks they met in 2011 but the footage in georges flip phone says he knew alex back in 2009.
Their first actual interaction (so far as they've told the world) was when alex was world champion with the intrepid karting team and bc he was their reference driver he was asked to help pick the drivers who were quick to replace him when he moved up and he picked george (and charles) so they were then part of that same intrepid driver programme for a while. Interestingly, alex was always at least one year above him bc of their ages and george says the fact they didn't really race directly against each other before 2016 was probably why they became such good friends.
They did a deep dive of their camera rolls from this time on twitch a couple years back and talked about the oldest pictures they have of each other in their camera rolls (1:25:36) which was cute.
2017
2017 is the year george basically lived with alex. They were also sharing a trainer whilst alex was competing in gp2 and george was in gp3. George was doing mercedes sim work at their factory so rented a flat in milton keynes near where alex lived but according to alex that rent was wasted money bc george had more meals at alexs' house than he did that year. Also as detailed in those links, the Great Mountain Biking Incident of 2017 occurred at this time so we have the fun mental image of george literally wheeling alex into a&e on a wheelchair bc that is an actual event that happened.
2018
George and alex both in f2 fighting for the title year wooooo!! They never really fought on track but we did get fun tidbits like when alex pipped george to the win at silverstone bc george had a slow pit stop and giggled about it in parc ferme (5:42) & these post session interviews.
also some incredible photoshoots.
2019
Promotion to f1!!! We started the year at winter testing and this nugget that they have both accepted that they are actually tied together by the strings of fate. They're doing fun media stuff like karting and bullying each other over percentage of apexs hit at the skypad (video). 2019 also the start of the umbrella sharing. They were just together a lot… more skypad analysis!!!
2019 also has MY personal favourite galex moment which was hockenheim 2019 and the 45 minute phone call galex had on the way home after george missed out on scoring what would have been his first point in f1 and only point of the season.
There was also the summer break and enjoying a training camp together, exchanging infections etc. Alex also took george to meet lily for the first time, bc that’s a normal thing to do.
There was also the rookie of the year vid, and the rookie season review vid at the end of the year. Much was happening.
2020
The year started with f1 trying to race during a global pandemic. Fun! On the singular media day before everyone realised just how stupid that was they were being annoying. The lockdowns did give us the twitch streams. George was initially so bad at virtual racing he had to secretly consult alex's brother for help behind alexs back. George was also actively seeking alex out like a missile at any given opportunity and at one point felt necessary to declare that he wasn't alexs boyfriend when someone asked if alex was going to be streaming that day. Anyway my lockdown twitchscapades tag has a post with a playlist of all the streams that haven't been lost or deleted if you want to feel joy and have a spare million hours.
Racing resumed in July with the covid team bubbles and within two races and one qualifying session george was defending alexs honour to sky sports and the world in a truly remarkable fashion.
At the end of the year alex was unemployed....even more tragic than this loss was that alexs career difficulties were so extreme he started ghosting george, which devastated him to the extent he needed to publicly drag him for it.
There was also george asking lily to post alexs n*des on instagram and lily responding with if anyone has them it would be you which was perhaps the last time george had access to his own social media password.
Despite george not liking it they celebrated alexs first podium by going golfing! and reverse! George was also gifted an alex albon signed autograph card for christmas and said that he'll put it somewhere special x
2021
The beginning of 2021 was during lockdown and there was more fun virtual gps except the only two drivers doing it were george and alex so they were just bitching and gossiping and threatening to steal strategies and abu dhabi 2016 each other. Particular shoutout to the time they had a virtual race on valentines day and alex put a suit on for it and george was baffled. Immediately after valentines day was georges birthday which lily used to thank george for letting her borrow his boyfriend from time to time.
Then the season started with george enduring the season alexless and not letting anyone forget about it. Alex was turning up to races after being locked in the simulator until the early hours posting stuff like this on instagram and otherwise stumbling over his words after getting whipped on the ass.
Perhaps the defining moment of the galex 2021 season was george pushing the williams board to sign alex so heavily that they had to actively shut him out of proceedings. Also at this time there was this cute congrats from alexs family and one from alex to georgie about the mercedes seat.
anyway here's some more random 2021 nuggets:
i've seen him topless a few times
george getting alex a good deal on a merc x
yet More golf
the handover
georges driver room
2022
They truly lost every inch of personal space in 2022 like. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. The back signing Hello.
2022 had alex having his appendix out, nearly dying and alexs family updating george whilst alex was in the icu and then when alex returned for the next race in signapore a couple weeks later (insane behaviour) george was like mmm audacious of him to be here.
Elsewhere alex discovered georges photoshoot and was making screensavers about it. Alex also discovered hair dye and george was making instagram stories about it.
other random 2022 nuggets:
george is alexs fave f1 driver excluding himself
this skit williams did of lily finding a huge picture of george in alexs driver room
whatever this image is of lily george and alex
private plane carpool
double date
2023
@onadarklingplain covers the whole year for you much MUCH better than i ever could here!!!!!
and that brings us to present where they're just as weird and freaky with each other as ever!!!
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wynnyfryd · 10 months
Text
Trailer park Steve AU part 28
part 1 | part 27 | bonus stobin scene | ao3
cw: anxiety attack, graphic thoughts of death
Chapter 7
Steve's mom leaves the week before Thanksgiving.
No preamble, no notice, no "so long and thanks for paying rent," just— poof. Gone. Ta-ta, kiddo. Have a great life!
(Or don't!
Who cares?
Not me, that's for sure!)
The worst part is Steve finds out from Ernie of all people. Ma couldn’t even tell him to his face that she’s abandoning him to the gaping maw of this hellish town because she’s a good-for-nothing coward. Some day this place is gonna swallow him whole, splinter the bones and cough up the pellet, and Florence Harrington will be somewhere far, far away, sighing empty condolences over a fresh glass of red. “Just dreadful, isn’t it? Such a pity; what a shame.”
Steve’s hanging towels on the clothes line the day after the party — after the ride to drop off Max and the hangover brunch with Robin; after drowning his headache in Tylenol and finally getting home, only to realize that he can’t shower yet because all the towels are soaking wet — when Ernie looks up from his yardwork and casually ruins his goddamn life.
“You're wastin' your time with that,” he says, propping his weight against a rake and squinting at Steve in the mid-afternoon sun.
“What?” Steve frowns; hangs another towel. It's not like they're going to dry themselves. "Why?"
"Too cold."
"It's not supposed to rain, though, is it?"
"No, but the humidity—"
Screw the humidity. "I'm sure it'll be fine."
Ernie shrugs. “Suit yourself.”
He turns his attention back to his yard, dragging the rake over a smattering of damp leaves; obsessed with keeping his little patch of lawn pristine; and Steve reaches into the hamper and sincerely hopes that Ernie’s wrong. He needs a shower, and if the towels don't dry fast enough they get that gross mildew smell to them, and then it gets in Steve's hair, and how is he supposed to flirt with Eddie if he smells like musty lake water?
"Where's your mom off to, anyway?" Ernie asks after a moment. "Saw her leave this morning with two big suitcases,” he explains when Steve throws him a questioning look. “Figured she was off somewhere nice.”
Steve blanches.
Two big suitcases?
He didn’t even notice that she wasn’t here. Feels like a stupid, selfish asshole now, because he’d called ‘ma, I’m home!’ when he got in earlier and had thought nothing of her complete lack of response, the peaceful silence of the house; had welcomed it at the time, even, and what if—
Oh, god, what if she’d died?
What if she’d been lying there dead in her room, and Steve didn’t bother to check because he was too busy thinking about himself and how nice it was not to hear reruns on the TV for once? How long would she have lain there, rotting and bloated, and— and how long would his dad have, if the gunshot hadn’t rung out? How long; how long? Bleeding out on the carpet gurgling fish sounds everything red and Steve can’t breathe—
“Did she—?” he pants. Brings a hand to his throat; tries again. “Did you- see who she left with?”
“Some woman. Relative of yours, maybe? I didn’t get a good look at her. Had a real fancy car, though. Mercedes, think it was.”
Steve chokes on his own spit. Feels his throat close up, his heart pound and his ears ring and the yellow-purple-black start creeping in like vines at the edge of his vision, like demogorgon claws; like death’s shark-toothed grin. Hungry, howling, happy as it takes a bite out of him.
“You alright?” Ernie asks.
Steve grinds his jaw so hard he feels something crack. "Excuse me," he grits out, stomping back into the house.
"Fuck!" Steve shouts to his empty house — to the sun-faded paneling, to the weird stain in the orange carpet. Fucking Cecelia; fucking hell.
He cleans the house in a rage, eyes hot with unshed tears, and there's a note on the breakfast table. Crisply folded on plain paper, prim cursive letters, almost comically estranged:
Steven,
Apologies for short notice. Gone to stay with Aunt Cece in Evanston. Call or visit if you like.
— Mom
P.S. Happy Thanksgiving
The words leave papercuts in his throat. Steve rips the note to tiny pieces, can hardly see for the tears swimming in his eyes, but he's not crying over this; he's not. He fucking refuses.
Somewhere along the way, the cleaning turns to blind destruction, demolition of the all the little scraps of life mom left behind: her creepy angel figurines, her vintage Pyrex dishes, an empty bottle of old perfume. Steve hurls them all against the living room wall, delights in the shimmering pile of broken glass at his bare feet. Wants to crawl over it on hands and knees. Wants to burn this place to the ground.
When the sun dips below the trees he goes back out to check the towels. The air is wet, bitterly cold; nips at his hands when the wind blows, and the towels hang heavy on the line, just as damp as before but now the slightest bit stiff with the first creep of frost.
"FUCK!" Steve roars, ripping a towel down off the line. Yanking each one down in turn, throwing them into the dirt, raging, "What! Is! The fucking! Point!"
His tears spill over then, hot and wet as he sinks to his knees with a wounded growl, and he chokes there in the dirt; the cold, wet mud, the patchy grass. Gravel digs into his shins, and sobs wrack his chest, capsize him like plunging waves, and he can't do anything but shake and cry where the whole neighborhood can see. Making a commotion; making a scene, as his mother would say, but his mother's not here. She fucking left. She left him here, and his dad did, too, and Steve is utterly, truly, hopelessly alone.
"Come on, son."
And there’s Wayne Munson, coaxing him up off the ground with a sure, strong grip. Steve makes animal sounds as Wayne lifts him under the arms — ruined hiccups, mangled wails. There's mud in his lungs. Ocean silt; sucking sludge.
His mother's gone.
"Easy now," Wayne shushes; hugs him hard against his side. "You're alright, kid. You're alright."
part 29
tag list under separate reblogs, comment if you’re over 21 and want to be added tomorrow
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seat-safety-switch · 3 months
Text
Have you considered purchasing an "investment property?" A lot of folks are doing it these days, buying a second or third building that they then rent out to other people. Problem is, being a landlord is unethical and may even be a crime against humanity! Don't worry, we have a solution.
One of the fastest-growing businesses in America today is the humble storage locker. We got too many fucking things, it seems, and we don't want to throw any of them out, so we will instead pay someone else a couple hundred bucks a month to keep them on their property. Until our credit card expires, that is, and then they sell all of our shit to some television bargain hunters.
Here's my proposal. Instead of giving those people money (and eventually the salvage rights to your aunt Edna's leg lamp,) just give the bank money instead. Buy distressed commercial properties. It's extremely cheap if you shop at the right foreclosure auction, and you'll be bailing out our most important citizens: overleveraged wannabe real-estate moguls. Hey, they're four payments behind on their own Mercedes, so you're really helping the whole economy by keeping that thing out of the repo lot.
Now, you might be doubtful. What am I going to do with this disused office in the middle of nowhere that nobody wants to buy or even rent? Easy. Commercial districts often have extremely permissive rules about what you can do with "your" property. That means that Peggy Bylaw and Eric Zoning-Laws can't come by and hassle you for keeping, oh, forty cars lying around the place. Look, dude, I don't know what to tell you. It's an investment property that is currently whatever business it has to be in order for you to fuck off. Some eccentric rich dude is paying me to keep his shitty cars here. Yeah, I think he golfs with The Mayor. Surely there's someone with a loud exhaust or the wrong colour of dog that you could be bothering instead.
The best part is saved for last. When you forget to pay the property tax, the city gives you at least a year of increasingly-angry letters before they start seizing your stuff and selling it off. Much nicer terms than the storage locker fascists, and the folks who shop at those auctions are only looking for old cop cars to buy, so you can probably buy back your own stuff and get excited about it all over again.
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adrienneleclerc · 5 months
Text
Meet the Family Part 2
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader
Summary: after much discussion, Charles flies out Y/N’s parents to Monza so they can meet Charles’s mom before they decide on spending Christmas together in New York
Warning: the usual. IT IS EDITED, I MADE IT LONGER, starting from You
A/N: questions at the end of this imagine, I hope you like part 2 @ilovechickenwings
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“You didn’t have to fly them out first class.” Y/N said in the car.
“They’re your parents, what kind of person would I be if I let them fly coach, knowing I can afford first class.” Charles said.
“True. I can’t believe you invited them to the Monza Grand Prix.” Y/N said.
“Well my family is also coming to this Grand Prix, I figured they could meet. Hopefully they get along so we can spend Christmas on New York.” Charles said. Charles parked the car and he did a lot better than he usually does. They got out of the car.
“Your parking is getting better, muñeco, I am so proud.” Y/N said. “What time does their flight land?”
“Um, it says at that it should have landed 10 minutes." Charles said checking the flight information. They walked into the airport, Charles signing whatever the fans give him, they made it to the gate and Y/N saw her parents.
"Mami, Papi, que gusto verlos. Como estuvo el vuelo?" Y/N asked her parents after hugging them.
"First class es tan fancy, no creo que puedo volver a volar en coach." Elena said breaking the hug with Y/N to turn to Charles and hugs him. "Charles, thank you so much for flying us out, I can't believe we are in Italy, I always wanted to come here." Elena gives Charles a kiss on the cheek before letting him go, Charles blushing a little and laughing.
"It was nothing, I really wanted you two to meet my mom and brothers." Charles said.
"Right, we need to see if we get along before deciding on spending holidays together. A ver Charles, what car did you decide to rent?" Enrique asked.
"Mm, a Mercedes Benz, plenty of space for your luggage. Lets go, I want to invite you guys to eat before heading to the hotel." Charles said, taking Elena's and Enrique's carry on bags, leaving the airport to go to his car.
“Are we meeting Pascale there?” Y/N asked.
“Yes, my mom texted me saying shes on her way to the restaurant so let’s go.” Charles said, putting the carry on bags in his trunk, helping Enrique put the big suitcase in the trunk too before closing it, everyone got in the car.
“Can’t wait to go sightseeing and shopping.” Elena said.
“Oh yes, Monza is beautiful. Tomorrow is media day for me so if you want, you could go sightseeing by yourselves.” Charles said.
“Yeah, that seems fine, will Y/N be with you during media day?” Enrique asked.
“Yes she will.” Charles said.
“Yeah, that seems okay.” Elena said. The rest of the ride to the restaurant was filled with Elena and Enrique talking about what they want to see. Charles made it to the restaurant (I google restaurants in Monza, did you know there is a Peruvian restaurant there? I am so happy about that) and Charles parked his car in the Vecchia Ostuni parking lot.
“Mira eso, Y/N didn’t have to park for you.” Elena teased. Charles looked at Y/N.
“You told them I can’t park?” Charles asked in a whiny voice.
“I didn't tell them anything, they probably saw me parking your car when we visited.” Y/N said.
“Fair enough.” Charles said. They walked made it to the restaurant entrance and saw Pascale. “Maman!” Charles exclaimed before hugging his mother.
“Pascale, it’s good to see you again.” Y/N said, hugging her. “So Pascale, these are my parents Elena and Enrique.
“Nice to mee you.” Pascale said, hugging Elena and Enrique. “Let’s go in, I am starving.” They entered the restaurant, Charles had a reservation for them and they were seated right away. “Elena, Enrique, Can i just say I love your daughter, she is such a sweetheart, perfect for my Charles, I love having her over whenever they’re in Monaco.”
“Oh thank you, we only found out about Charles recently when he came to visit us in New York, but he makes Y/N happy and that’s good enough for us. Plus the gifts, thank you again Charles, I take that bag everywhere.” Elena said.
“It was my pleasure.” Charles said.
You know how sometimes your parents will share stories from your childhood? That’s exactly what happened.
“When Y/N was younger, she would name any animal she saw, whether that is a stray cat in our neighborhood or a mouse caught in a trap.” Enrique said, the three parents laughing.
“She still does that! They were over and we have this garden (I’m making this up) and she found a caterpillar on a leaf, Y/N named it Heimlich.” Pascale said and Y/N covered her face from embarrassment, leaning against Charles.
“Aw, don’t be embarrassed, Mon ange, it’s very cute and endearing how you name random animals.” Charles kissed her forehead.
“I think she got that habit from Lilo and Stitch, she would watch that movie all the time.” Elena said.
“Oh Charles here was obsessed with the movie Cars, I sometimes think thats why he kept karting, to be like Lightning McQueen. I have seen so many posts on Instagram for the fans comparing him to Lightning McQueen.” Pascale said, now it’s Charles’s turn to be embarrassed, he was blushing slightly while Pascale showed Elena and Enrique some of the comparisons. “It doesn’t help that there’s a video of Charles saying ‘kachow’, you know.” Pascale said.
“Our little Disney fans, they’re perfect for each other.” Elena commented.
“They are, they seem so in love. When Charles was first calling me about her, he was so smitten, asking me for advice because he had no idea how to woo her since she’s American.” Pascale said, Y/N turned to Charles.
“I didn’t know that.” Y/N said.
“Yeah, it was actually the first time I got nervous talking to a girl. It’s not like I’ve seen you in Monaco before, you were completely new, you knew nothing about me, I wanted our first date to be perfect.” Charles said, playing with his rings. Y/N kissed his cheek.
“You’re so cute.” Y/N said. The parents kept talking amongst themselves. The check came, Charles paid, Pascale gave Elena her phone number and they started texting on WhatsApp. They said goodbye to each other, went to the parking lot and drove to the hotel they’re staying at.
Charles helped Elena and Enrique to their room, Y/N hugged them goodbye before going to her shared suite with Charles. After Charles helped them with the luggage, he went to his suite and found Y/N splayed across the bed.
“I am so tired.” Y/N said.
“Mon ange, we didn’t do anything.” Charles said.
“I know but we had to listen to our childhood stories.” Y/N said.
“Yeah, that’s true. But I’m glad our parents are getting along, I sense a New York Christmas in our future.” Charles said, getting on the bed and moving Y/N so her back is against his chest. Charles kissed her forehead.
“Same here.” Y/N said and she got a text notification from her mom, Y/N stifled a giggle,
“Whats so funny?” Charles asked.
“Is it true that when you were 4 you opened your closet every night to see if Sulley would be there?” Y/N asked.
“Ugh, maman.” Charles groaned and Y/N was laughing.
“That’s adorable.” Y/N said, kissing him until Charles realized something, holding her back from kissing him again.
“Wait, when we were in Spa, there was a stray dog, did you name him?” Charles asked.
“What? No.” Y/N said. Charles looked at her. “I named him Koda.” Y/N admitted. Charles kissed her.
“Adorable.” Charles said, Y/N pouted but Charles kissed her pout away. "You think we can go to Niso Fumagalli? Its your first time here, I want to do something romantic." Charles said, still kissing her. Y/N pretended to think.
"Would I have to change?" Y/N asked.
"Absolutely not, you look beautiful." Charles said. Y/N smiled.
"You're very sweet, guapo, I'll text my mom to tell her we're going out." Y/N said.
Charles and Y/N spent the rest of the day in the rose garden Niso Fumagalli and they took so many photos together, Charles will definitely post them later after they are editted to match his aesthetic.
The next day was Media Day, Y/N was in the Ferrari hospitality hanging with Rebecca while Charles was answering some questions.
"So Charles, we hear your American girlfriend is here, how is that going?" the interviewer asked.
"Very good, this is her first time coming to Monza, even though she is very new to the world of Formula 1, she is very excited to be here, I even flew her parents out." Charles said.
"Wow, what a considerate boyfriend you are, how are the future in-laws?" The interviewer asked.
"I like them, I really hope they like me as well, my mom loves my girlfriend so I am hoping to have the same connection with her parents." Charles responded sincerely. He thinks of himself as a very nice guy, even though Enrique has said himself that Charles seemed good for Y/N, he doesn't get the feeling that her parents consider him family yet.
"I'm sure you will, whats not to like, the grid loves you." The interviewer said and Charles laughed a little, messing with his shirt collar.
Charles then had another interviewer.
"Charles and Carlos, you two are going to answer whatever questions are written on the piece of paper you pick out of this hat." The interviewer said, Charles went first.
"Who was your celebrity crush when you were younger? Oh, that is such a good question, I'm trying to think, mm, oh, it was (a celebrity you share similar features with, for me it would be Selena Gomez cuz of the round face, dark hair and eyes) I was obsessed with her movies/tv show/music, watched every TV interview she did, my mom would call me every time she was on TV." Charles admitted, completely embarassed he just confessed that.
"Doesn't your girlfriend have the same color eyes, hair, and skin tone?" The interviewer.
"Lord Perceval, who knew you had a type." Carlos joked. "You totally manifested your girlfriend."
"I guess i did. Your turn, Carlos." Charles said.
After many interviews later, he went to the hospitality to find Y/N eating a snack.
"Baby! How were the interviews?" Y/N asked, hugged him, Charles hugged her back twice as hard.
"They were good, a little tiring. Want to go out to eat? There was this peruvian restaurant we could go to, I know you miss Latin food when you're in Europe with me." Charles said.
"Ooh yes, lomo saltado sounds so good right now. I love you so much." Y/N said, kissing him.
"You think your parents like me?" Charles asked.
"What kind of question is that? Of course they like you. Come on, lets get to your car." Y/N said. They were walking to the parking lot.
"Its just yesterday your mom mentioned that she only found out about me recently. She hasn't really complimented me except to tell me she loves her bag." Charles said.
"Well Charles, they don't really know you, it's kinda hard considering they live in New York." Y/N said.
"You're right, we should go to the hotel and pick up ypour parents so we could eat at the Peruvian restaurant." Charles said.
"Oh no need, they're here with Pascale." Y/N admitted.
"Mon coeur, you could have told me before we got into the parking lot." Charles said.
"I'll tell my mom where we are going and Pascale could join them at the restaurant, it will be like yesterday." Y/N said.
"Yeah, that sounds good, you are so smart." Charles said, kissing her forehead.
"Thank you, lets good, I just texted my mom." Y/N said, They get to the car and drove to the restaurant. Pascale showed up with Elena and Enrique a few moments later.
"Why are we here?" Enrique asked.
"Oh, whenever we are travlling for my races, Y/N will miss the latin food that she is used to cooking herself. She gets homesick, latin food helps her, and that is why we are at a peruvian restaurant." Charles said, with his arm around Y/N. Enrique hums approvingly before they entered the restaurant.
During lunch/dinner, Charles did or said little things that won him brownie points with his future in-laws. He knows it might be too soon, but he feels as if Y/N is the one and he needs to know that her parents approved of him.
"Maman, Christmas is a few months away, I was wondering how would you feel about spending it in New York?" Charles asked.
"New York? What about your brother and Charlotte?" Pascale asked.
"They would come too! Imagine spending New Years in New York, watching the ball drop in person..." Charles started.
"Don't do that." Y/N and her parents said.
"It is going to be so crowded, you'll be freezing the entire time, you probably won't even get a good spot to watch the ball drop or the New Years performers." Elena said.
"But we could see the tree at the Rockefeller Center." Charles said, looking at Y/N to make sure that was a good plan and Y/N nodded.
"I wouldn't want to spend Christmas without my parents, but I know you wouldn't want to spend it without Charles either." Y/N said. Pascale doesn't look convinced.
"Pascale, you never travlled outside of Europe, it could be fun. Enrique and I obviously don't have a big house but you can stay in a hotel near us." Elena started.
"Alright, you convinced me, a New York Christmas it is. Would you spend your entire winter break in New York, Charles?" Pascale asked.
"Not the entire break, just 2 weeks." Charles said.
"Alright, sounds good. Let me call your brothers." Pascale said, standing up from the table.
"Tengo que ir al baño, acompáñame, Y/N." Elena said, dragging Y/N to the bathrom, leaving Charles and Enrique alone. There was a moment of silence before Enrique decided to speak.
"You're a good guy, Charles. It may not seem like it, but I like you. You make Y/N happy, she actually started calling us every week to tell us about you and what you did that made her happy that week. You bought her a vase?" Enrique asked.
"Yes, she has been saying that the counter in her apartment looked plain so i bought her a vase and I would bring her flowers so the apartment would look..alive, I guess." Charles responded.
"That's the kind of stuff I want my princess to experience. My wife and I have never fought in front of Y/N, we have never raised our voice at her, hit her, or anything. I'm assuming you would never do that to her either." Enrique said and Charles immediately shook his head.
"of course not, i respect your daughter, I love Y/N so much that I would rather die than even think about doing that kind of thing to her." Charles said.
"Thats exactly what I needed to hear, son." Enrique patted Charles back and he was so happy that Enrique called him 'son". The women came back to the table.
"We were gone a while, what did you talk about?" Y/N asked.
"Nothing, mon ange." Charles said.
"Todo anda bien, princesa." Enrique said, Y/N accepted it but she noticed that Charles had the same gleam in his eyes that he gets from winning. Y/N whispered in Charles's ear.
"He said he liked you, didn't he?" Y/N waited for a response and Charles nodded his head. "See? You had nothing to worry about." Y/N whispered again before deciding to place her head on his shoulder.
The End
HOPE YOU LIKED THE NEW ADDITIONS, I did not know how to write them meeting for the first time, the naming animals habit is actually mine, there are 2 stray cats by my house, I named one Thomas O’Malley and the other is named Fígaro. I also named a mouse Roquefort, I genuinely think I got it from Lilo. Hope y’all liked it! Comments are appreciated.
I have 3 ideas for new one shots
Idea 1: Charles Leclerc and Y/N are married and Y/N has a habit of adopting any dog that “gives her a sign” like it would follow her, whine if she tries to leave, etc. But the catch is, Charles and Y/N already have 8 dogs so when Charles is away at a race, Y/N picks up another dog but she tries to make it seem like she had an affair so the dog thing isn’t so bad. 100 percent inspired by that story Salma Hayek told on Jimmy Fallon. Btw, I got the dogs and names picked out.
Idea 2: there is a Bachelor Auction for charity, Charles is obviously one of the bachelors, Y/N bids on him, they go on a date, have a really good time, Charles wants to go out again.
Idea 3: Charles and Y/N are friends and roommates. Y/N lost her journal/diary, Charles found it in the driver’s room and instead of giving it back, he reads it and discovers she has a crush on an F1 driver. Instead of thinking the F1 driver Y/N writes about is himself, he thinks it’s Lando and is lowkey sad and jealous when he sees Lando and Y/N talk because Charles also likes Y/N.
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bpdjennamaroney · 1 year
Text
Will and Emma are having relationship problems because Will is not taking COVID seriously enough ("Therapy"). The next day Will takes his frustration out on the glee club and accuses them of not taking COVID seriously enough (Finn doesn't understand germ theory and Brittany is QAnon.)
Will says, "You guys lack historical perspective. Back in the 80s and 90s there was a young gay composer named Jonathan Larson who saw disease and suffering all around him. When he found out he was afflicted with AIDS, he put all of his pain into the timeless and unreproachable work of art, RENT. RENT taught us about community and caring for one another and more importantly...it taught us that musicals can rock." Will sings the title song from RENT with Artie and Finn.
That night: Santana is fed up with lockdown restrictions and sneaks out of her house to visit Brittany ("Out Tonight"). Brittany is planning a big show that will blow the whole COVID conspiracy wide open. She previews it for Santana ("Over the Moon"). Santana is freaked out and breaks up with Brittany. Santana can excuse ignoring disease prevention guidelines but she draws the line at being Republican about it.
Also that night, Will tries to sleep with Emma but she's too COVID-cautious ("Green Green Dress"). She says maybe they need some time apart because of their different priorities.
While grocery shopping, Will runs into Holly Holliday. Holly is lighting scented candles in the middle of the store but for some reason all of them are defective/unscented ("Light My Candle.") Holly propositions Will. Will says he's seeing Emma, and Holly admits she also has a boyfriend.
"I'm sure we can work something out," Holly says. "Meet me at the basement of the swinger's club at 9:00."
Will shows up at the swinger's club and spots his old rival, Brian Ryan (the Neil Patrick Harris character). They glare at each other, then confront each other and it's revealed that Brian is Holly's boyfriend ("Tango Maureen.") She knew Brian and Will were old high school rivals and set all this up because she's into the whole enemies-to-lovers thing.
Will scolds her. "That is so cruel and manipulative of you. I can't believe you would do this."
Holly tries to convince him to live life to the fullest. ("Another Day.")
Eventually Will thinks about what proud openly gay icon Jonathan larson would do, and he has a threesome with Holly and Brian ("Contact," I'm afraid.)
The morning after, Will can't believe he kind of cheated on Emma/hooked up with Brian and really enjoyed it ("Real Life").
On Monday, Brittany and Santana are still broken up but sitting on opposite sides of the choir room is emotionally difficult for them ("Without You.")
On the way home from school, Kurt and Blaine are like "Aren't you glad we're not like Brittany and Santana, breaking up every 5 seconds over something stupid?" and they sing "I'll Cover You" but then they break up over something stupid.
Will contemplates his sexual awakening, torn between Holly+Brian and Emma ("Johnny Can't Decide/Come To Your Senses" mashup).
The tension in glee club is unavoidable.
"Mr. Shu, this is ridiculous," Rachel says. "Ever since you brought up RENT and Jonathan Larson, it's been nonstop hookups and fighting. Also, Jonathan Larson wasn't gay and he didn't die of AIDS! He was straight and died of some random heart thing."
"What? Jonathan Larson wasn't gay? So my sexual experimentation was under false pretenses?"
Will immediately calls and breaks it off with Brian and they argue ("What You Own").
The next day Santana says "I can't believe we caused this much fuss over a straight man, who died of a random heart thing."
"Wait, just because he was straight doesn't make his words less powerful," Finn says.
"You're right," Will says. "Maybe I'm bisexual." ("Louder than Words.") And then they all sing La Vie Boheme.
At some point Santana and Mercedes sing "Take Me or Leave Me" as their glee club presentation. (It's a four-part episode.) Also I think Gwyneth would have fun with Today 4 U, don't kill me.

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cheriladycl01 · 5 months
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My Job is Beach ... - Valtteri Bottas x ItalianOlympicBeachVolleyball! Reader
Plot: You spend time with your boyfriend after the Australian GP doing what you do best, Beach Barbie and Beach Ken
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Valtteri had an incredible race, him and Lewis both in a fantastic car as fantastic drivers. And you’d luckily been there to celebrate with him.
You loved going to Australia with him, it was so warm at the time of year the race was and it meant you got to go to the beach.
Which of course was one of your favourite things. Growing up in a small coastal town in Italy, meant you were at the beach pretty much all the time. You went there before school, after school, on the weekends. Even during school, your school was right next to a beach which is where you picked up your sport.
At first it was just for fun, like most hobbies start of as.
But after playing in some matches against others schools across Italy, your teacher and parents realised there was something special there.
You didn’t see it or get it, you just loved the beach do anything you did there was fun to you.
So of course they ended up getting you a coach. Someone who was willing to privately train you and get you into better teams in Italy.
In 2016 you competed in Brazil. Rio De Janeiro was an incredible place and it’s actually where you met Valtteri.
He and a few of the drivers had ended up coming to watch some of the Olympics and you’d bumped into him on the beach with Lewis.
You’d recognised both of them straight away, and struck up a conversation with them.
“Oh! Your Valtteri Bottas! And Your Felipe Massa!” You’d exclaimed at the men and they’d awkwardly nodded thinking you were a fan wanting a picture or autograph.
“What are you guys here for?” You ask, knowing that the race this year wasn’t until November. They were in summer break right now.
“Oh, we are here for the Olympics. We got invited” Felipe admits and you grin.
“Oh, I’m here for them too!” You grin.
“Oh yeah, you here to watch any sport in particular?” Valtteri asked.
“Watch? No im one of the beach volleyballers! Team Italia” You smile.
And the rest was history after that. You and Valtteri got together and he got a promotion to Mercedes after Nico Rosberg left the sport.
It was early the next day, the Monday after the race and you and Valtteri were still shacked up in Australia. You wanted to spend some more time here travelling to your favourite Aussie beaches.
So you took the 1hour flight from Melbourne to Sydney so that you were on Bondi beach. You guys had rented out a place close to the coast for easy access.
You guys were with a few friends, some of Valtteri and some of yours. Somehow your friendship groups just mixed together well. You were both apprehensive at first but realised after a house party that it was fine, the language barrier at first was a little awkward but English being a common ground for most of the group worked.
“Amore mio, please come join us! Then I promise you we will go on a bike ride!” You say cuddling up to him… you’d just finished unpacking and he was laying on the bed cuddling up to you.
“Im no good. And I just embarrass myself Rakas” he sighs pulling you into him and kissing all over your face affectionately making you giggle.
At first Valtteri was very shy when it came to showing you any level of affection and your overly affectionate side thanks to your large Italian family upbringing was very overwhelming to him at first.
But soon he learnt it was your love language and the more confident he got, the clingier he got.
“It’s meant to be for fun! You don’t have to be good at it” you giggle running your finger through his hair as he looks up at you.
“But all your friends are so good!” He exclaims sitting up.
“Mmmm and now you know how I feel when you take me karting!” You laugh knowing you have the bruises to prove just how bad you were at the sport.
“Okay okay fine. But just because I love you!” He says in that gruff lower voice.
You guys play beach volleyball for the majority of the morning until the suns at full peak.
“Barbecue sulla spiaggia?” One of your friends suggest whose English wasn’t great, especially when she was tired after a long morning of playing volleyball, in the sand and under the hot Australian sun.
“She suggested a Rantagrilli?” You say trying your best to translate for Valtteri and his friends who wouldn’t have understood the Italian.
You weren’t allowed to do this on Bondi but closer to where your beach Villa was, you knew you’d be able to cook on the beach there as it was private to the Villa.
They all nod eagerly and before you know it, you guys are using two barbecue for the amount of people you are cooking for. One that’s on the back garden of the beach villa and then one that was already in the sand.
You guys spent lunch munching on burgers and salad, and chicken and hot dog. It was for sure a chest day for all of you, most of you guys being athletes and being on strict diets.
After you’d spent the afternoon cuddling with Valtteri on the beach letting lunch go down, you both went out for a bike ride. He of course had chosen the longest and steepest route to take, meaning you came back drenched in sweat and cursing at Valtteri for making you endure that.
"I want a Dolce Sorpresa!" you groan your head leaning against him and he looks at you.
"A what?" he asks. You'd learnt a little Finnish for him but he still struggled with some of you little idioms.
"Sweet Treat, I'm craving Boba, I saw a shop on the way back!" you grin, kissing him before taking his hand to drag him to the Boba Tea shop!
"Then, can we go to the beach again?" you ask.
"You just love the beach don't you!" he smiles.
"Mmmmmm, my job is literally beach..." you giggle.
y/user
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y/user: Beach, Bike, BBQ and Boba all in Bondi
Tagged 2 people
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valterribottas: nice alliteration hunny!
-> y/user: thank you baby! Thought it was very funny!
fan1: say hello to our resident beach Barbie and beach Ken.
-> fan2: no because the way her job is literally beach and his job is literally car 🥲😅
->fan3: yeah not an f1 driver and Olympic Silver Medalist lmfao 🤣
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We attempted … we fell lots!
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@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v
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sukunasdirtylaugh · 6 months
Text
tags: yakuza!kento x f!reader, money problems with family on the reader's side, reader's employer is a major w here, she works as a nanny, mentions of arranged marriage, mentions jokingly of 'losing a few pounds' by walking, and a hopeful ending
arranged marriage au with yakuza!boss kento. your former employer, a contact of kento's had referred you to him as a sweet, kind, and fitting candidate for the yakuza boss to marry. working as a nanny for the associate, you were already someone your employer knew his colleague could benefit from.
but you didn't want anything to do with this lifestyle.
"it's your uncle again," the worry and embarrassment of your mother's tone sank to the bottom of your stomach, followed by a heaviness. "I... I feel terrible for asking you, you know this, but you're the one-"
"-with a high paying job," you bite the inside of your cheek and sigh, "I know. what does he want now?"
"he..." your mother sighs, "he needs $1,200 within three days." you bite the inside of your cheek again. it always worked this way. it started with him and worked its way up towards your mother and now you, but what could you do? leave your mother to stress?
"okay," you exhale, looking at the fresh check your boss had given you this week: $1,250. you could definitely survive off of $50, right? it was just another week. you had some savings, but then you thought about rent, thought about other factors that let you consider your words for a minute. it was just a week, so you could do this, right?
"I'll send the money tomorrow. don't worry mom."
$50. you needed to survive your week with $50. perhaps, you thought, maybe you could sell that old coffee table in your apartment? if you tidy it up, you might get $60 for it, maybe $80. you also made some accommodations such as not using the bus. it was only an hour and twenty seven minutes to your employer's mansion, what could go wrong?
a sprained ankle.
luckily, you don't really feel pain until after your shift. your right ankle throbs, and you're forced to clutch onto it, keeping any noise from escaping your lips as you're leaving the children's rooms after putting them to sleep. "what... happened to your ankle?" your boss asks.
"I just hurt a ligament," you nerviusly chuckle, "I'll be fine-"
"-do you normally take the bus?" he asks, making you shake your head. "I..." embarrased, you say, "I thought I'd take up walking instead. loose a few pounds, heh-"
"let me take you in my car. I can't have the nanny to my children struggle like that." and who were you to protest? as you're being helped inside his black mercedes, your employer drives you to your home. taking note of several things he's seen throughout the week.
"so..." he says, "I might have a question that you may find alarming but... do I pay you well?" he asks, worry laced towards the end of his tone. "if so-"
"-yes," you answer, flushed and embarrassed, "I-I'm okay, the p-pay is okay sir, I just... I had some surprise payments to take care of." as he drives, he raises a brow.
"would you care to share that with me?"
"i-it's my family," you say, fidgeting with your hands as if you're a child. truth was, you didn't know why you were saying so much. whether it was the stress from these past few days, or the accumulation of stress solely from today had your eyes teary eyed as you looked away, wiping your tears hoping he wouldn't notice.
but he did.
that night, your boss drops you off your apartment. "take the week off," he suggests, voice softer. "there's been a sudden change to my plans so... my kids, I need to have them visit some family members for a bit. and..." he trails, voice careful, "I wouldn't want to throw away the food we already have, so... can I have it dropped off to you tomorrow morning?" he asks.
"I know this is very sudden, but I plan to compensate you for the last minute changes," he says, pulling out a checkbook, "will $3,000 be okay?"
"s-sir," you say, flushed and embarrsed. it's as if you've been granted another opportunity by an angel, "that's... more than enough-"
"-then please accept it," he says, handing you the check before you can even register what just happened. "I'll send the remaining food tomorrow, and in the meantime, you can rest for the week. maybe two. I need you to be in your best health beccause in 16 days, I need you to come with me and the children to visit an old friend, okay?"
you nod your head gratefully, "yes sir."
he smiles.
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Text
Do it All
Synopsis: You are a Formula 1 driver trying to graduate from college. It’s hard to do it all, but the grid helps you do some of it
young female mercedes driver reader x 2033 F1 grid
(george is at williams with alex, logan is the reserve)
Education has always been something important to you. Your parents raised you to be a good student and that’s what you turned out to be. You were always one of the “smart kids” and didn’t mind going to school day after day, year after year. People usually get confused when you tell them this because you don’t meet many scholarly Formula 1 drivers, but here you are.
Your life was always split between racing and school; You remember doing homework sheets at karting tracks, writing essays between media duties in F2, and rushing through assigned readings in airports. It was stressful, but the work for each always paid off.
You’ve made your way through the Mercedes Junior Program, Formula 3, Formula 2, and was recruited in 2022 by Toto Wolff to race in Formula 1. You were 18 at the time, but too good an opportunity to pass up, so he offered you a three-year racing contract at Mercedes, starting in the 2023 season. You were over-the-moon excited about the opportunity, but it didn’t stop you from wondering about college.
You knew it wasn’t necessary, very few drivers went to university, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to attend. College had been in your vision for ages, you couldn’t just not go. The real problem was that Toto had approached you in August to race for Mercedes, and you had already gotten into your first-choice school and was days away from traveling there to set up your dorm.
You thought about your options. There was no way you could turn down Toto’s offer to join his F1 team, but there was also no way you go away to college and drive for Mercedes. One of your passions had to be pushed aside, and it wasn’t going to be racing.
So instead of traveling to your chosen college to settle into your dorm, you were traveling there to have various meetings about your future at that school.
After talking with the head of the university and a few professors, you compromised with the idea of online education. You would use online textbooks and the resources your professors posted onto the class’s website to complete all your assignments and participate in the lessons. You would be held to all the same expectations as the other students and would get your degree and diploma at the end of all of it, just not traditionally.
You agree that your schedule will be asynchronous (completely independent, you’ll make up your own schedule and do the work on your own time) to match your incoming lifestyle and discuss some other minor details. You leave what would’ve been your campus saddened and already a bit stressed, but nonetheless prepared.
You spent the rest of 2022 getting used to online school again and training on the sim to prepare for the day you leave for England. Because the Mercedes headquarters was in the UK, you were renting an apartment to call “home base” there with one of your friends that was attending a university in England.
You probably should’ve been more nervous on your first day at the office, but you weren’t. You’ve been in the junior program since you were 13, you’ve met Toto multiple times, and Lewis had been named your mentor long ago. Whenever you two were in the same country, he always made an effort to watch your races and help you improve in whatever ways he could.
You also were familiar with a couple of the drivers on the grid already. Despite the age gap, you had raced alongside Lando, George, Alex for years and had encountered Charles, Pierre, and Esteban a few times as well. You were in F2 with Oscar and Logan for a bit and formed a quick friendship with both of them. Because of these connections, by the Spanish Grand Prix, you were quite friendly with almost all 19 drivers.
And by the Spanish Grand Prix, almost all 19 drivers also knew that you were completely stressed about your schoolwork. They all knew you were a college student and had a lot of respect for you for it, especially during exam season. Even though you were majoring in mechanical engineering and were around cars almost every day, you were overwhelmed with anxiety.
It was impossible to ignore; if you walked into the Mercedes hospitality or garage, it wouldn’t be uncommon to see you sitting at a table, on a couch, or sitting in an empty hallway with your laptop in front of you and your focus captured. Your state of mind didn’t majorly affect your racing, you made sure of it, but it did affect your personality, and because they were your friends, the drivers decided to help you as much as possible.
Because Lewis is around you the most, he makes sure you’re taking proper care of yourself. When he finds you studying in your driver’s room or working in the hospitalty in between duties, he makes sure you’ve eaten and have a water bottle by your side. If you haven’t, he’ll run to buy your favorite snack and beverage for you and drop them off with a few words of encouragement.
Lando, George, and Alex make sure you don’t drown yourself with work. If everyone’s at home and they’re aware you’ve been working for a few hours, they’ll text you asking to join them in a video game as a stress reliever. They keep you occupied for a few hours and fill the time with updates about their own lives and their own friendly banter.
They worry about you when they have breaks from racing and don’t hear from you for days at a time, then return with tired eyes and a quiet persona. Sometimes they’ll facetime you and don’t hang up for hours to make sure you cook yourself a fresh meal and fall asleep at a decent time.
Oscar and Logan are the most common visitors to your driver’s room and hotel rooms, and they make sure you actually see the countries you travel to. They’ve showed up to your hotel room randomly a few times and just told you to hurry up and get ready.
These visits always end up with the three of you in a cool, new place where you’re free to talk as much as you want and laugh as loudly as you’d like. They don’t live in the UK with you but the three of you are together so often you barely even notice.
Charles, Pierre, and Esteban make sure you enjoy everything you’re doing. They know how stressful being a young rookie can be, and they can only imagine what you’re going through as a university student, and the three of them don’t want your young adult years to be filled with just work and stress.
They try to help you study; Charles quizzes you on different subjects, if you chose French as your language, Esteban would give you answers, and if you need a distraction, Pierre is by your side trying to make you laugh.
You’re a little more laid-back when you finally submit your exams, but you don’t completely relax until you know your scores. You get good marks on all of your tests and are relieved when you discover all your hard work has pulled off.
Lewis is the first person you tell, and he matches your excitement completely. When you burst into his driver’s room and tell him your results, he brings you into a hug and leaves a kiss on the top of your head. “I knew you could do it, Y/n, I’m so proud of you” Lewis is one of the few Formula 1 drivers that did attend college so he knows first-hand how difficult it can be.
George, Alex, and Lando are almost as relieved as you are when you tell them your grades. The three of them are glad to have their friend back and hope the year until your next final exams comes slowly.
Oscar and Logan take you out to celebrate the night you tell them. You guys walk around town with ice cream as a reward and go to an amusement park with the bright idea for you to “scream out your frustrations from the last few weeks” Surprisingly, it works and by the end of the night, you feel lighter than you have all semester.
The bottom-line is, the drivers care about you and can’t wait to see your smile again after every exam season.
a short little student reader fic because I love the concept, I’m just not too sure how to write it
hope you love it tho 🫶
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joelslegalwhre · 1 year
Note
Hey!! was just looking to request a little something, if you don't want to/don't have the time I don't mind.
So, like a Max V x Reader where reader is Toto's daughter. Reader and Toto doesn't have a good relationship because she isn't very interested in the Mercedes team and after a petty fight he kicks her out of the house, max hears them fighting (they're in the paddock) and offers to host reader and as time goes, they start to build a relationship and then everyone finds out about it. Also if it could take place under the 2021 season. 🏎️🤍
*sips on dr pepper* Alright Toto my beloved, it‘s time to be a bitch
Thank u sm for the request anon! I made some small changes to the plot but nothing major xx
Paddock Pass pt.1
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pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader, dad!toto wolff x fem!reader
word count: 1.6k
summary: After Toto takes your paddock pass, Max comes to your rescue. You didn‘t think that rescue would lead to something much bigger. (Pls trust me this is good, I just suck at summaries)
warnings: angst, fighting, bad dad-daughter dynamics, fluff, mutual pining turning into more, use of Y/N one time, not really proofread (anything else? Tell me if I missed something)
Masterlist || taglist || part one || part two || part three
There wasn't a year when you hadn't attended at least half of the grand prix. And this year was no different. 
Your job allowed you to work from everywhere you liked, so it was the perfect opportunity to follow your dads team around the world. 
The Mercedes Formula One team was something you’d consider family. 
You knew everyone by name, some of them knew you since you were only a few years old, attending your first races. 
But you never cared for the strategies, the way the cars worked, or anything in that field. 
You were here for the excitement of the races, the familiarity and the people. The drivers, the mechanics, the strategists or the people working for the media… they were close to your heart, and you couldn't imagine not being part of this world.
Even if you weren't the least bit interested in the details; you knew everything about the sport, you just didn't want to go into detail why the car would work better if you added this thing to whatever part of the car that your dad had explained to you so many times. 
But Toto Wolff would not understand that. And he made it very clear. 
In his eyes, you should be just as interested in all aspects of the sport. To be like him, you thought.
„You know what, Dad? Shocker, but not everyone shares your fucking interests and cares for them as much as you do!" 
You've never talked to him like that, but you've had enough. "I know I'm not the daughter you'd like to have," you continued, „I really don't care  about the aerodynamics of Lewis‘ car and how it's different to Valtteris'! I simply don't care!" 
You felt hot tears burning in your eyes, but you managed to blink them away. Barely, but he didn't have to see them. "They all know that," these damn tears wouldn't stop, you thought, "Everyone except for you, Dad.
The disappointment in your voice was clear as day, "Why do you even take me with you, when you don't just accept me as I am?" Your lips were pressed in a tight line, the tears still on the verge of falling. 
"You're right." Toto said in the coldest voice you might've ever heard from him, his accent thick, „I don't have to drag you with me anywhere, you're an adult after all. But I also don't have to give you access to the paddock, nor to the garage or anywhere else."
You clenched your teeth, hard. He just had to snap his fingers and your all access pass was worth nothing. You couldn't enter the paddock, couldn’t go anywhere else. And he knew, clear as day, that you couldn't just take a plane back home. You needed the money to pay your rent and couldn't just waste it on a plane ticket that was way too expensive. 
But you wouldn't give in this time, no, if he wanted to punish you for telling him the truth, fine. But he couldn't just humiliate you like he did right now. You grabbed the all access pass hanging from your neck and shoved it in his hand. "Take it then." you said, your voice matching his cold tone. 
Max was hearing every part of it. He'd noticed your voice just before he walked past the Mercedes facility, stopping dead in his tracks when he heard the tone of your words. The voice he had heard so many times, the kindness you always spoke with. All gone. And then Toto's. Just as horribly cold. The two of you were standing between the facilities, so he pretended to be on his phone answering someone, so he could wait in front of his own facility. 
"Take it then." he heard you say in a bitter tone, and just a moment later, you walked past him. He could tell that you were upset. Hell, everyone could've. The way you almost ran out of the paddock and tried to blink away the tears - of sadness, anger, or possibly both, he couldn't tell - it was obvious. Max waited another moment, and when he saw Toto returning to the Mercedes facility, he quickly followed you.
He had to quicken his pace, due to your fast steps. Some were curiously watching where he wanted to be so quickly, but he didn't notice them, just trying to catch up to you. "Hey," he called after you, "wait for me!" 
You didn't hear him, and even if you did, you wouldn't think he'd meant you. It was when he called out your name, that you finally turned around. 
"Thank you." he said, taking a deep breath. He stopped right at your side. "Ehm," you looked at him in utter confusion, still trying not to be obvious of your emotions. "Can I help you, Max?" 
You haven't seen him, when you walked past the Red Bull building, too focused on what to do now. 
„Uhm, yeah, I mean… Can we find a-„ he looked around, “a more private place to talk?” 
His gaze was filled with sincerity and softness. You needed a second to answer him. „Uhm, yes. Of course.“ you quietly said. 
“Great.” Max gently took your wrist and led you to a more secluded place between two facilities. The grip he had on your wrist turned into him sliding his hand in yours. It didn‘t surprise you how the skin where he had touched you tingled, the feeling of your hand in his a feeling you could never quite explain. It was childish, but ever since he started driving for Red Bull, you had a crush on him. You obviously never told your Dad or anyone else about it, hell would've broken loose if you did. 
“I was actually heading out of the paddock,“ you started, “I don't have a pass anymore.” 
His lack of confusion or surprise to that made you draw your brows together, and then he simply answered, „I know.” 
“So what are you-„ you started, but he interrupted you, “I know it's not the most gentlemen thing to do, but I heard all of the-“ he thought for a second, “discussion, between you and your Dad.” he ended. 
That actually made you smile a little, he tried his best to be as gentle as possible and you appreciated it. „It’s okay, Max. I guess everyone kind of heard us.” you sighed, „We had a fight, and he kicked me out.” a bitter smile formed on your lips. 
„Yeah, but he can't kick you out of the paddock.” Max's lips turned into a mischievous smile. “What do you mean?” He looked at your hand and his thumb caressed it for a second. „I'll give you one of mine.” 
„Max,“ you started a little shocked, but he quickly shook his head, „It's really no problem at all,“ he smiled, „It would be an honor to have you in the garage.“ he winked.
His knees almost buckled at the sight of you.
He had given you one of his spare Red Bull shirts. It was a little too big for you, but you had styled it perfectly, the new pass dangling from your neck with every step you took.
You looked absolutely beautiful. And you weren't walking past his garage like you usually would, because his garage was the one you'd watch the race in. It filled him with a sort of pride he couldn't explain. Never in a million years, had he dared to believe you'd be rooting for him and his team. Little did he know, you did since meeting him for the first time. 
"Hey," you greeted him with a warm smile. Max was glad that you seemed to be in a much better mood than yesterday. „Hey.“ he grinned. „Is this-„ you gestured over your outfit and pass, „Is it really okay with the team?“ 
You were a little nervous how they'd react to you being in the garage. Nearly everyone knew you were Toto's daughter. And although you knew most of the other teams, including the people who worked for them, you felt quite nervous. „It is.“ His voice had no trace of uncertainty in it. And when he grabbed your hand for the second time since your encounter yesterday, your stomach did a little happy flip. 
„Alright, I have to go, but you can just go over there to watch the race,“ he pointed to your left, „But I guess it's no different to the Mercedes garage, so…“ he laughed. You smiled and chuckled, „It isn‘t, but thank you.“ He gave you a small nod, still smiling. „No Max, really. Thank you.“ Your voice became more serious, and you looked at him with utter gratitude. 
Just when he gave your hand a light squeeze, you noticed that you must've still been holding hands. „I already told you it's no problem, I'm glad you are here.“ You couldn‘t tell the look on his face, you just knew that he was standing so very close to you that only a few centimeters separated the two of you. His gaze wandered from your eyes to your lips. His hand that caressed yours as you still watched him with such intensity, trying to figure out what he was thinking, but at the same time just taking him in. „Y/N, I-„ he started whispering, so close to your own lips, just so very close. 
„Max! We need you over here!“
The voice made both you and Max look up, almost startled. He turned around to the mechanic, and nodded quickly before turning back to you. 
But the moment was gone. You took a step back, letting go of his hand in the process. You smiled at him, though nervously, „Good luck, champ.“. And with that you left him standing there, your heart still aching for so much more than a simple ‚good luck‘. 
I appreciate your comments and reblogs so much!
here’s my kofi if you‘d like to leave a tip 🩷
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ilovespec · 3 months
Text
A loving but dangerous winter ~
Y/N: your name
Y/L: your last name
|Yandere! Fem Serial killer × shy reader| part 1
warnings (although who has ever paid attention to them) : age difference , size difference , theft of things , illegal entry (into an apartment) , GL , light or not obsession.
4938 words.
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Y/N Y/L this is an ordinary average girl, plain appearance, neither short nor tall, quiet character and no differences from all other girls on this globe. She works (barely making ends meet) and lives in a rented apartment. Every day is the same , getting up early at 5:00 in the morning , brushing teeth , showering , a meager breakfast and sometimes its absence, putting on clothes, taking the subway to the coffee shop where she worked, a long day at work and finally, the way home, a short sleep and everything is like new ....
. 。・:*:・゚’☆
But everything changed a little bit, as she thought, when she came to the coffee shop where she worked.... Slim.. No, even masculine muscular, unusually tall for a woman.... She had white hair with a black tips , blue eyes, beautifully serious facial features, and slightly pale, not tanned skin...She is wearing a grey turtleneck and black trousers.. They look quite expensive. It can be seen that they are made to order..
。・:*:・゚’☆
Y/N blushed slightly when a beautiful stranger came up to the checkout, but she's just a customer.... Maybe she won't even remember it, and won't come here next time.. yeah...? How wrong she is.
Beautiful stranger: Good afternoon, please give me a ristretto.
She has such an unusual accent! Russian or something... It makes her even more beautiful, and the ristretto.. This is a very strong coffee! Well, okay, a client is a client....
Y/N: Y-yes...how do I sign your cup, Miss..?
Beautiful stranger: Agafya, my name is Agafya. Дорогая.
DAMN, WHY DO I STUTTER EVEN WHEN I'M NOT LOOKING AT HER?!??! And what did she call me...? I do not understand what this word means, but I hope that it was not liberating..
Y/N prepared a ristretto, and brought it to Agafya's table
Agafya: Thank you very much.
Agafia finishes her ristretto without even wincing and pays for the coffee, leaving a BIG tip and leaves with a barely noticeable grin
。・:*:・゚’☆
Y/N finished her shift and went to the subway but... When she ran to his station, it drove away right in front of her nose. She missed the subway and she would had to call an "Uber"... To do this, she went outside, taking out her phone on the go, and abruptly! She heard a couple of horns from the side of the road next to her , she turned around uncertainly , and found a DAMN MERCEDES THERE IN WHICH AGAFYA WAS SITTING !!
Agafya: Good night, can I take you home?
After a little hesitation, she nodded slightly, and hesitantly got into an expensive car. And she immediately started moving...
。・:*:・゚’☆
The girls were silent all the way, and I was able to see Agafya... She was beautiful... And she's definitely 8-9 years older than her. Perfect face, without a single flaw and Russian facial features...White hair , with black tips on each strand, that was perfectly styled... A grey turtleneck and black trousers without a single crease.. Everything about her was perfect , it was strange that she was interested in such an ordinary girl like Y/N...
。・:*:・゚’☆
When they arrived at her house, T/I quietly thanked the kind new acquaintance, and went to her apartment, wishing her a good night in advance.
Agafya: Good night to you too, and don't thank me. Кролик.
She said another word again , in Russian ... And I hoped with all my heart that it wasn't offensive. And because of her fatigue, she did not have an idea why Agafya knew her exact address.
。・:*:・゚’☆
The whole next week was, to put it mildly.... Amazing. There were fewer and fewer rude customers every day.. The boss started paying his salary more often... And even her previously noisy colleagues have become much quieter! What surprised and pleased her ! But the gifts and notes were even more surprising and frightening.... IN HER FUCKING APARTMENT !!!! Every morning when she woke up, she found a bouquet of flowers (your favorite color) on a random surface of her house (different every day), and romantic notes written in calligraphically precise handwriting... And the same thing happened late at night when she was returning home from work. And that scared and confused her even more... She began to lose her underwear , a pair of lipsticks , and even her and even her T-shirt was missing ! It was still flowers..
。・:*:・゚’☆
Today was an ordinary day, and today there were not even flowers and notes in her apartment, and even her things stopped disappearing! She was already overjoyed, and as usual, she entered the coffee shop where she worked... Her love.. Agafya, and already out of habit. Even when Agafya had just started to go to the checkout, she had already started preparing the ristretto. Agafya chuckled softly
Agafya: Yes, you already know me like a flake.
Y/N: Y-yes..... How can I not know my regular customer? Haha.. haaa....
Agafya: By the way, Y/N... Are you free after work today? I want to ask you out on a date.
WHAAAAAAAAT !!???! Y/N couldn't believe her ears, and blushing , and she stared at Agafya like a deer in the headlights
Y/N: What...? Uh... A date...? I think so... I'm free after work... me... I'm always free! Ha.. Haha...
Her head is in a complete mess, on the one hand she was over the moon with happiness, and on the other, why was it so straightforward, and so unexpected....
To be continued ;)
please write reviews about the first chapter of this "story" in the comments, please 😅 This is only the second time I've posted anything like this ...
translations:
Дорогая : darling
Кролик : rabbit
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