#she drives him crazy alright

[thekingofspin]

[fabulouslygaybean]

im terrified to turn 18 next year but also i basically just confirmed with one of my best friends that we're gonna find an apartment together and be roommates so suddenly the future doesn't seem too horrible

[luveline]

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

Spencer calls you drunk and in need of rescue. You confess a few secrets to him while he won’t remember them (or so you think). 3k, fem

cw drunk!spencer, mentioned past drug use, confident/bombshell!reader, flirting, spencer getting some well deserved comfort, a handful of his drunken compliments, insecurity, intense mutual pining

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You’re blissfully sleeping in the arms of a REM cycle when your phone rings. It pulls you by the chest, a punch of shock and expectancy at once. It’ll be someone calling you into work, Hotch himself if you’re lucky. 

You search blindly for your phone. If you’re even luckier, it’ll be a wrong number. Your fingers curl around the little body of your phone and you bring it to your ear without checking the number, frazzled. “Hello?” you ask hoarsely. 

Total quiet. 

“Hello?” You pull the screen away. The caller reads: SPENCER. You pull it back rather than hang up. “Hey, Spencer. Are you there?” 

“Hello.” He laughs. “Hello, are you there?” 

“I’m here, Spencer, where are you?” 

“That’s an interesting question, actually, and I’m sure there’s a great answer, but…” 

“But what?” You sit up quickly, your throat aching with sleep. Your room is black as coal pitch. “Spencer, what time is it, my love?” 

“You shouldn’t call me stuff like that.” 

“Stop being weird and tell me where you are.” 

He laughs like a hyena. You can see it in your mind, his smile and all his pearly perfect teeth. You love it when he smiles like that and he rarely ever does. “I’m somewhere and I need your help getting home!” he says with another funny laugh. 

“Are you alright? You sound…” He sounds inebriated. 

Spencer struggled with his drug problem for so long before you found out. You just hadn’t been around enough, and when you were he’d gotten good at hiding it. You can still remember how furious you’d been with everyone, including him, because you could’ve helped, would’ve done anything to support him through it. If he’s hurting now and hasn’t told you, you love him, but you’ll be insanely angry. 

“Spencer?” you ask quietly. 

“I went for drinks with a girl but she didn’t like me and I may have drowned my sorrows too much,” he admits. “Um. Did you know gin is very strong?” 

“Aw, baby. You’re cheating on me?” 

“I’m afraid so,” he says, and hiccups. 

“Where are you?” 

After some hassle wherein you persuade Spencer to give the phone to someone else in the bar for a slightly less drunk interrogation, you dress and gather your bearings for the drive. You zip a hoodie up over your pyjamas, stuff your feet into some old converse, and set out into the dark to find him. 

He calls you again as you’re parking. “Hello,” he says as soon as you answered. “I need you to come and get me.” 

Spencer called you twice to save him. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s called you to come and get him when he knows he needs help, and that realisation is hard to ignore. “Spencer, I’m two minutes away, I’m parking. You’re still where you were?” 

“Where was I?” 

“At the bar, sweetheart. Are you still there?” It’s scarily dark out and you didn’t grab any sort of defensive measure before you came, which you regret now, climbing out of your car to walk the dimly lit road. The bar glows like a beacon to be followed. 

“Still where?” 

“Did you hit your head?” 

“Not to my knowledge. Though I’m not sure I have much right now. I feel like I’m forgetting everything I’ve ever read, and I’ve read a lot. You know I can read about eighty average length novels in one hour on an e-reader? The buttons make it faster.” 

“You haven’t told me that before.” You shiver against the nighttime winds, footsteps heavy on the grey sidewalk. 

“I’m trying to be more conversational. Emily says it’s not working.” 

“You’re conversational. Isn’t the only condition of being conversational to prompt a conversation? We’re always talking.” 

“…What?” 

You laugh like crazy. “Spencer, you don’t need to change the way you talk.” 

“I annoy people.” 

“You don’t annoy me.” 

You approach the door of the bar, a ramshackle sheet of plywood over what looks to be a glass door. The bar building seems in similar dessaray, with modern features wrecked by scratches and smashed panes. It’s a real dive. Spencer couldn’t have meant to come here. 

You war with both hands to open the door and find yourself faced with a long and empty corridor leading to another door. Worried you’re going to get kidnapped, you bring the phone back to your ear, Spencer’s chatting an immediate greeting. “…telling me I’m doing something wrong without telling me what it is, it’s impossible.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, can you come to the door?” 

“I don’t think I have control of my legs,” he says without inflection. 

“It’s definitely the building with the smashed door?” 

“Yesssss. Are you here?” he asks excitedly. 

“I better not get murdered, Spencer Reid.” 

“Am I in trouble?” 

“How are you even keeping the phone to your ear right now?” 

“I’m on speaker phone. Milly showed me how to do it. Say hi, Milly.” 

“Hi Milly,” a new voice says. 

You rub your eyes with one hand and square your shoulders, prepared to defend yourself if the creepy door leads to a creepier room. 

Spencer is immediately visible from the get go. You open the door on to a rather cosy looking bar, which you’re thinking might be the whole point; wretched exterior, secret attraction. Warm orange light ebbs into the space from sconces and a faux fireplace, while a wrestling match playing from the small TV behind the bar casts brighter light down onto Spencer’s shoulders. He looks out of place, dressed in a white oxford shirt and a suit jacket, his tie loosened and hanging from either side of his neck, compared to the lingering patrons who sit dotted around the room in booths and on barstools. One such patron sits in a plaid shirt and a trucker hat, her hair to her back, thick and dark. 

You hang up the call and put your phone in your pocket. Spencer gasps like he’s been smacked and picks his own phone up from the bar, clicking at buttons with clumsy fingers. “No,” he hums sadly. 

“Spencer,” you say, not wanting to disturb the people spending their sorry-looking night here. “Spencer. Hey, Spence!” 

His phone tips between his fingers. The woman you assume to be Milly catches it and offers it back without looking too far from her beer. 

“Hey,” you say gently, crossing a wide empty space to meet him. The room itself is shaped like a horseshoe, the bar taking up a surprising amount in the centre, and booths and tables placed around it. Spencer’s off of his barstool as you approach, eyes like puppy dog’s, arms extended. “You okay?” you ask. 

You can feel eyes on you both from every angle, but it doesn’t matter, not when Spencer’s falling into your arms (or on to them —he’s surprisingly tall when you aren’t wearing heels). “You alright?” you ask again. 

“You don’t have to be worried, I’m fine.” 

He’s less coordinated in real life than he’d sounded over the phone, his slurring unmissable, his hands like jumping fish as he tries to hug you. It’s weird and straining to take his weight but you do it without complaint. He smells the same, at least, only his cedary cologne is sharpened by the tang of gin on his breath. 

“Thank god you’re here,” he whispers. 

“Why?” you ask, pulling away to check for danger. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, handsome,” you say, genuine but laying it on thick simultaneously as you ease his head back to cup his cheek. You can’t help yourself. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever met, and it gets worse every year. 

He frowns at you deeply. “I don’t like first dates.” 

“Then don’t go on them,” you suggest, “you don’t need to until you’re ready.” 

“I’m ready for love,” he says. You pull your lips into a flattened line, unsure of what to say, how to explain that it’s waiting for him, but his chin dips towards his neck and his eyes lock onto your face. “You’re not wearing makeup. God, you’re so pretty.” 

You flinch away from him. “Fuck, Spencer.”

“I’m sorry! It’s not that you don’t look pretty with makeup, but I never see you without it!” 

You’d forgotten you weren’t wearing any. Makeup isn’t a shield, exactly, but you like putting your best foot forward, so to speak. You’ve no clue what you look like tonight, hadn’t managed to look in the mirror, you’d been focused on getting to Spencer before he got lost. You can imagine the puffiness.

Spencer touches your cheek. You let him turn you mostly because he’s surprised you, his eyes roving up and down your face with a fawning curiosity. 

“You’re beautiful. You know that already, but people don’t tell you enough,” he says, his hand falling from your cheek. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, “let’s get you home.” 

You thank Milly for her help and grab Spencer’s bag from the floor to hang on your shoulder. You’d make a joke about how heavy it was if you didn’t think he’d take it from you, and, considering how drunk he is, topple over from the imbalance it provides. His shirt is clammy where you push your hand through his arm to link them, his footsteps wobbly. 

“I didn’t want to go on a date,” he says. 

“Then why did you go?” you ask, helping him over the door jam into the long hallway. 

“I don’t want to be alone forever.” 

“Spencer, you won’t be.” It doesn’t feel like the best time to bring up how much you like him. You’re sure he thinks you’re kidding, doesn’t everybody? Don’t torture him, they say. Don’t toy with him. Every time you flirt with him the team acts like you can’t mean it, and for a while it worked for you; you weren’t in love with Spencer. You weren’t playing with his feelings, but you didn’t love him, and then you joined the team and got to know him, watched him fluster at every comment you made or under any soft looking and realised you could love him. It was easy to fall for him. You liked doing it. But now he’s determined to write your affection off as a joke and going on dates? 

In the morning, when he’s sober, you’ll have to tell him how you feel. Or you could let him find someone more like him… ugh. It’s such a mess. 

You grapple with the size of your feelings for him as he hums and laughs his way down the hall to the glass door. On the street, he squints and straightens his back, fighting to regain his arm from your hold to cover your shoulder instead. “It’s cold,” he says in surprise. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine, I got my jacket. It’s a short walk, come on.”

His arm stops acting as protection and starts to use you for support. “I didn’t mean to drink so much.” 

“Drowning your sorrows is always a terrible idea because it tends to work,” you lament, less scared of the dark with him at your hip, though what protection he might offer is negated by the alcohol. 

“She kind of looked like you.” 

You squeeze your eyes together quickly. “Oh.” 

“I didn’t know she was going to. But she didn’t– she didn’t– it’s hard to talk. She didn’t listen like you do,” he says, lightly slurring, “she just stared at me like everyone used to in high school. Like she could tell there’s something wrong with me.” 

“Spencer, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I know,” he says. 

“Do you?” 

“Yes.” He frowns. “No, I don’t know. I don’t feel like there’s something wrong with me,” —his voice turns to a nearly indistinguishable mumble— “but everyone else always does.” 

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.” 

“Is that why you make all your jokes?” 

“What jokes, babe?” 

“Like that! Like babe. It’s funny ‘cos you’d never date me.” 

You’d slow if he weren’t already walking at a snail's pace. “That’s not true. Let’s talk about it in the morning, okay?” 

“I won’t remember to ask you in the morning.” 

“Spencer, you remember everything.” 

He drags his feet. “I wish I wasn’t so weird,” he whines. It’s playful at the forefront but desperate otherwise, and it gives you pause. “I wish I was normal, and you could like me normal.” 

You look down at your hands, panicking, a flash of Is this a good idea? like an alarm in your head as you turn on the sidewalk to face him. He’s looking at you like he’s begging you to disagree with him. 

You’re happy to. 

“Spencer, I like you like this,” you insist loudly. His eyes and all his sweet lashes track the movement of your hand as you touch your chest, and your neck. “You’re not normal, I’m not normal. Do you know how many times I’ve been rejected? Just for being me? I’m too bossy, too outspoken, too– too high maintenance. I've had friends with good intentions tell me I need to lower my standards, need to relax, because otherwise I’m going to end up alone for the rest of my life. I feel alone all the time.”

“But you’re perfect,” he says, puzzled. 

“To you. And you’re perfect to me.” Your hand crawls to the base of your throat. “So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. You think I’d come and get anybody else in the middle of the night dressed like this?” you ask him, gesturing to your ratty pyjamas and your dingy converse. 

“You look so cute,” he says mournfully. 

You roll your eyes. He’s too wasted for this conversation. “Come on, sweetheart. You can think about this too much in the morning. Let’s just get home in one piece.” Physically and emotionally. 

“Can I come home with you?” he asks. 

That had always been the plan. “Ask me nicely and I’ll consider it on the way.” 

— — 

Spencer shuts his eyes, hands itching to clap over his ears as you scratch the head of a spatula across your frying pan. “Is three eggs too many? People usually have two but that’s never enough for me.” 

“I think…” Oh my god the metal screeching is so loud. “You should have as many as you want. You know your body. There’s this study on intuitive eating…” I'm too hungover for this. “Three eggs is better than two.” 

“So you want three?” 

He cannot eat right now. “Yes. Please.” 

Spencer’s half sick with dehydration and half grief. He stayed at your house last night and he was too drunk to be nosy. He slept in your bed. He slept in your bed. He woke up to you at your vanity doing your hair, the nutty smell of hair oil mixed with the heat of the hair tool on high and realised with a start that he’d missed something he thought about all the time. 

You’d tipped your head back to smile at him. “There’s my boy. Sweet dreams?” 

He didn’t dream, but if he had, it would’ve been another agonising wish where you were his girlfriend, or his wife, or just there looking at him with love. He wakes up feeling sick because it isn’t true. And now you’re making him breakfast, humming a tune under your breath, sourdough sizzling under the grill and a shoddily blended avocado sitting in the bowl in front of him. 

You asked him for one thing. He picks up the fork and starts to mash the avocado again. He can’t fight the foreignness of sitting in your kitchen, a gap in his memory. 

He knows he told you about his date, how she looked like you, how she didn’t seem to like him much, but he’s struggling to collect the finer details. Why had you picked him up? He must’ve called you, but you could’ve said no. He remembers thinking you looked beautiful, but he always thinks that. 

The avocado is making him feel sick. 

“Here,” you say, sliding a plate of toast in front of him. “Do you want butter?” 

“I think I'm gonna throw up.” 

“You’re okay.”

“I can’t believe how I acted,” he says, pressing his palms to the hollows of his eyes. 

You turn off the hob. Fat bubbles and pops until it’s cooled. The clock on the wall by the refrigerator ticks incessantly. His slept-in shirt feels too tight despite the undone button. 

“Hey…” You round the island but don’t touch him, your voice gentle. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

He drags his hands down his face. “I can barely remember what I said.” 

“You were really nice to me… told me I looked pretty without my makeup, n’ that I was perfect. You were really nice.” 

Your tone is off. No flirtatiousness, no endless confidence, you sound wistful, like you’re glad he said it. You take the bowl of avocado he’s made a mess with and put it aside with the toast, resting your arm on the counter, and leaning into his space. “Spencer, last night? You didn’t do anything to be embarrassed of. You were nice, and kind. You tried to open the car door for me and you almost lost your eye, but you were fine. You don’t have anything to be worried about, really.”

“But it’s you.” 

“Gonna touch your hair,” you say, giving him enough time to move away as you reach out and rake back his fringe. His heart leaps into his mouth. “You said something last night like that, you know? Do you remember that? You said if you were normal.” You grace the skin beside his eye with the tip of your thumb, your perfume floating his way as you move. “And I said–”

“I’m not normal,” he says, remembering now. 

You’re not normal, I’m not normal, you’d said.

But you’re perfect, he’d said. 

To you. And you’re perfect to me.

“Right. We’re not normal, Spencer Reid, so forget that girl. She didn’t deserve you anyways,” you say. 

You draw a short, silken line down his cheek with the side of your pinky. To be touched so lightly has his stomach in knots —he’s not shocked by the swiftness with which your affection can make a bad situation good again. 

You turn away. “Now we should eat before everything goes cold.” 

He watches your shoulders move, and he remembers one last detail. So don’t say you’re weird like it’s ugly, honey. And don’t think I don’t like you, ‘cos I do. 

The way you’d said it… you couldn’t really mean…

“How’s your appetite? Still feeling sick?” you ask. 

Spencer smiles to himself, the ghost of your touch glowing warm on his cheek. “I’m feeling a lot better, actually.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!!! please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed, i appreciate anything and it always inspires me to write more<3!! my requests are pretty much always open for bombshell!reader (even though this one strays a bit from their usual story haha) so if you wanna see more let me know❤️

[rafecameroninterlude]

hello, for kook! sweetheart!reader, can we have please reader wearing her brand's lingerie but without doing it on purpose after a charity gala, rafe rips her lingerie. kook! sweetheart!reader get upset because she really cares about it. and to punish him, she decides that he is not allowed to touch her for a week. of course she does everything to drive him crazy. tysm if you write this request !

warnings: teasing, slight dirty talk, suggestive ending

“fuck, i’ve been thinking about taking this dress off of you all night.” you moaned against rafe’s lips, both of you stumbling into your bedroom. once he had you in your plush sheets, leaving open mouthed kisses against your skin, it wasn’t long before your hips were chasing his own, desperate for any kind of friction against your lace-clad cunt.

“rafe?” you whimpered, fingers running across the nape of his neck. “talk to me, baby.” you couldn’t help but arch into his chest when he kneaded the flesh of your thighs. “want you to fuck me so bad.” you mewled, making the man on top of you curse through gritted teeth. “yeah? want me to make you feel good?” you hummed, anticipation settling in your tummy.

you felt his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, your eyes shooting open when a rip! sounded through your room. “shit.” rafe was already pinching the bridge of his nose, your underwear basically ripped in two. “rafe i told you about this already!” you pushed him aside, leaving your boyfriend sexually frustrated and uncomfortably hard in his slacks.

“it was an accident, i swear!” he watched you get up and examine your lingerie in the mirror. “an accident? this is the third time, ray..” you let the lace material fall to the floor, your bra coming off next. “i’m getting in the shower.” you sighed, rafe rubbing his eyes. he definitely wasn’t getting any play tonight. “babe can we just-”

“no.” you slammed the bathroom door shut, rafe muttering a ‘drama queen.’ when he heard the water turn on.

the following week was absolute hell for him.

prancing around in skirts that did nothing to cover your ass, swatting away his hands everytime he tried to touch you, teasing him endlessly and leaving him high and dry, he’d decided he finally had enough. “i’m begging here, alright? please sweetheart.” rafe had you cornered, a pout on your lips as you looked up at him.

“you know how much i love my lingerie.” you traced his lips as he hummed. “i love it too.” rafe snaked a hand down your side, resting it on the small of your back. “you’re killing me here.” you giggled when he feigned a painful expression. “i promise i won’t rip your precious panties.” he huffed out a laugh, only making you smile teasingly.

“i know you’re not..” you leaned in, pecking the corner of his mouth, “because i’m not wearing any.”

[il-miele-che-scrive]

Go for his brother part 2

Part 1 here

Part 3 here

username1 DOUBLE BETRAYAL 😭

↳username2 wdym bro wtf Arthur is just getting his karma, he CHEATED on Y/n with her best friend

↳username2 and Y/n only got with his brother after the breakup

username3 It's so crazy to me how not long ago Y/n was with Arthur at Charles' race and we could see them all lovey dovey and now she's with Charles 💀

username4 I hope they actually like each other and it's not just something Y/n schemed to get back at Arthur

↳username5 And even if it is, so what? Both Leclercs deserve this if she's doing it for the sake of revenge

username4 What did Charles ever do to you 😭 he's a literal pookie

username6 I am BEGGING to find out Arthur's reaction

username7 I wanna see this on Drive To Survive lmao

↳username8 The most interesting thing in the whole season lol

username9 Exactly! Men driving in circles? Nah, fuck that, give me family drama

yourusername The Art & The Artist

view all comments

charles_leclerc I took way more than these 2 pictures, should post them all

↳yourusername some would get me banned🤭

username1 MY OH MY

username2 What did she say 😐

username3 I'm jealous but haven't decided if I want him or her

username4 Arthur better not read this comment section (I hope he will)

francisca.cgomes Thanks for blessing my eyes 🫶

↳yourusername You're welcome bestie🫶

username4 it's so nice to see Y/n found a friend who won't steal her bf

username5 You can't be sure, it's Charles Leclerc we're talking about. You think he wouldn't go for his best friends' girlfriend who is now his own girlfriends' best friend after pulling what he's just pulled?

username4 ngl girl I got lost in whatever you're saying

yoursister In your iconic girl era ❤️

↳yourusername I slayed didn't I 💅

username6 Honestly guys I believe it's not just a revenge scheme

↳username5 What makes you think that?

username6 Given these pictures and the pictures from the gossip page they look pretty much happy to me, too happy for it to be fake

username5 Whatever you say, we'll see. They have to get tired of pretending one day

exbestfriend Glowing ✨🩷

↳yourusername 😐

↳francisca.cgomes 😐

↳yoursister 😐

↳charles_leclerc 😐

↳pierregasly 😐

↳georgerussell63 😐

↳carmenmmundt 😐

↳alex_albon 😐

↳lilymhe 😐

username7 Y/N AND HER COMMENT SECTION ARE ICONIC 😭

↳username8 I can't stop imagining them having a gc and she sent a screenshot of her ex best friend's comment like "you know what to do, guys" 🤣

username9 I just know Arthur is screaming crying throwing up because LOOK AT WHAT HE LOST

username10 Lol who's next? Toto Wolff?

arthur_leclerc My favorite love story is ours ❤️

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exbestfriend So happy we found each other ❤️❤️

username1 💀

username2 Alright they both have the audacity

username3 your love story is cheating on Y/n lmao

username4 Imagine they have a kid one day who'll ask mom dad how did you meet lol

↳username3 I'd be EMBARRASSED

username5 They deserve each other tbh

username6 Hey but... What if this pic and Y/n's pics were taken on the same day...

↳username7 wdym

username6 Arthur wanted to keep and eye on his ex and his brother from afar 😭

username7 it's terrible but possibly true lmao

exbestfriend I'm so sick of people judging us

↳username2 That's what you deserve, the both of you

↳username4 when actions have consequences:😮

yourusername Back at the paddock ❤️

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username1 At least she didn't downgrade right?

yoursister You guys look so good together

↳yourusername Thank you 🫶 ily

↳charles_leclerc Yes we do 😊

↳username2 Y/s/n never commented anything like this when Y/n used to post with Arthur😭

lilymhe It was nice catching up with you when the boys were playing

↳yourusername maybe next time you and Alex could come over so the boys can play some video games together

username3 Pls they're just two single mothers bonding over their toddlers being besties😭

username4 I NEED TO KNOW IF ARTHUR WAS THERE

↳username5 You crazy? Ofc he wouldn't have come, he's too scared of confrontation

username4 Okay but then what if one day Y/n and Charles get married? Will Arthur just skip his brother's wedding?

username5 I think some time will pass before Charles decides to settle down. And not with Y/n, that's for sure

username6 Why not? Y/n makes a much better couple with Charles than she did with Arthur

username5 Charles would never take her seriously lol she dated his brother, Charles is just having fun with her while letting her have her moment

arthur_leclerc Are you wearing the dress you wore on our first date?

↳username2 SHE'S WHAT?????

↳username3 wtf are u doing here

↳yourusername Maybe...

username4 Mother keeps slaying 😭👏

username7 I aspire to be like Y/n fr

alex_albon Lily said we should have a double date

↳yourusername Let's do it then @/lilymhe @/charles_leclerc when and where

arthur_leclerc I just wonder when will you get bored of this

↳yourusername Bored of what exactly? Going to races? You know I've always enjoyed looking at cars go vroooom

arthur_leclerc You know what I mean

arthur_leclerc Of pretending to like Charles just to prove me some delusional point

yourusername You really think I'd waste my energy on that? It's a funny coincidence indeed, but I do like him actually

arthur_leclerc Mhm sure I give you maybe 6 months more, can't keep pretending forever

charles_leclerc A family gathering & the morning after

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username1 OH GREAT HEAVENS

pierregasly Now that's something none of us expected

↳username2 bro speaking facts

username3 They said fuck you Arthur you'll get a proof we're not pretending😭

username4 Well at least the family already knew her

↳username5 Pascale liked Y/n so much she said girl you have my blessing no matter which one u marry

username3 Guys do you think Arthur was there? You know, it's a family gathering, so he had to be there, right?

alex_albon Charles settling down wasn't on my bingo card this year

↳lilymhe Neither was it on mine but I love it

francisca.cgomes Girl you realize there's no going back now? 😂

↳yourusername I hope so😜🫶

arthur_leclerc I still can't believe how disrespectful you both are

↳charles_leclerc Look who's speaking of being disrespectful

↳yourusername stfu arthur maman literally had to kick you out of the party

username3 The way it used to be "Thurthur" and now it's "stfu arthur" 😶

username2 at least the "maman" is the same right

username5 I feel like Pascale likes Y/n more than she likes Arthur

username7 wtf guys PASCALE HAD TO KICK ARTHUR OUT OF THE PARTY 😭😭

↳username8 That's crazy, imagine how's the wedding gonna look like

carlossainz55 Getting engaged after a few weeks? Is she pregnant?😂

↳username9 Not funny

username10 Chill that's just millennial humour from back when pregnancy outside marriage was a disgrace

↳charles_leclerc We've known each other long enough to make this decision 🫢

carlossainz55 Valid point

arthur_leclerc But for majority of this time she was my girlfriend

charles_leclerc On which you cheated

arthur_leclerc @/yourusername did you use me just to get to Charles? Was it your plan from the beginning?

↳yourusername Sure because I have nothing else to do lmao

↳yourusername We've talked about it yesterday arthur, don't start again

arthur_leclerc I just still can't believe Charles would do something like that to me

yourusername And half a year ago I believed you wouldn't have ever cheated on me

charles_leclerc I said it yesterday and I'll say it again, Arthur I will always love you as a brother, but you messed up big time, you can't be mad at us

[sharlsworld]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ i go lower - ʟɴ4 ☆

✿ lando norris x influencer reader + ex bf charles & ex best friend alexandra

✿ charles leclerc just keeps proving how much of a red flag he is

ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳˢ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ୨୧ this is actually bad, i kept losing motivation so i just wanted to end it i’m so sorry

🝮

🝮

two days after the monaco gp

f1wags

liked by landonorris and 29,617 others

f1wags charles with a mystery girl in monaco last night! trouble in paradise?

lordperceval that ain’t no mystery girl 😭

sharls_lerklerk thats alexandra saint mleux she’s y/n’s ex best friend

⤷ lady.georgerussell why’d they stop being friends?

⤷ sharls_lerklerk she got with her ex boyfriend before charles 😭

⤷ lady.georgerussell63 SHUT UP 😭

estiebestie charles red flag leclerc back at it again

ethereal.yn bop

tripod.gasly bro invented homie hopping

all4lando why is no one gonna talk about lando liking this post?

sharls.eclair bro got p1 his home race and don’t know how to act anymore 💀

♥︎ by landonorris

dannyric.canlickle LANDO??!

🝮

ihateyn removed charles_leclerc and ynsbiggestfan as a follower

ihateyn unfollowed charles_leclerc and ynsbiggestfan

ihateyn

liked by lewishamilton and 92 others

ihateyn what the fuck i just woke up from my nap to my boyfriend out on a date with my ex best friend???

oscarpiastri I hate whores

francisca.cgomes i will cut his brakes

georgerussell63 Please dont cry queen I’ll run him off the track don’t worry

landonorris stand up

⤷ ihateyn i’m up

carlossainz55 Just say the word and I’ll make sure he’s never able to drive ever again I have nothing left to lose

lilymhe don’t be a little bitch

⤷ ihateyn you right you right

maxverstappen1 I’ll cut his dick off

sabrinacarpenter girl just tell me what to say and i’ll sing it for you dw

🝮

yn

liked by charlottesiine and 1,912,542 others

yn all in my lonesome

francisca.cgomes he who shall not be named better sleep with one eye open

lorenzotl Je t'aime petite soeur ❤️

⤷ yn i love you too enzo 🤍

⤷ sharlsworld “i love you little sister”

lilymhe once i get my hands on him it’s over for him

lewishamilton Chin up girl, You’ll be alright. sending all my love ♥️

⤷ roscoelovescoco yes’s we love’s you’s!

⤷ yn i love you two 🥹🥹♥️

arthur_leclerc i love you forever sista, my day 1 😇😇

⤷ yn my partner in crime always 🤞🏽

joris__trouche Been quiet since you left

⤷ yn come over whenever you want, you’re always welcome joris 🫶🏽

⤷ sharls_leclercussy gasping for air rn

chillinlikechili charlotte liked??

leclerc_pascale Ne sois pas triste, le soleil brillera à nouveau. Je t'aime pour toujours, viens bientôt tu me manques ♥️🥰

⤷ yn je serai bientôt fini maman je t'aime

⤷ sharlsworld pascale said “don’t be sad, the sun will shine again. i love you forever, come over soon i miss you” y/n said “i’ll be over soon mom i love you”

charleslovesyn ok but joris’ comment? my soul is weeping right now

🝮

yn

liked by danielricciardo and 3,082,561 others

yn 💌💐🎀🪩

landonorris who’s that handsome lad in the last slide? 😍

⤷ yn some bum i picked up on the side of the road

⤷ landonorris he looks absolutely yummy is he single 😈

⤷ yn get outta my comment section

leclerc_pascale Ma jolie fille! Tu me manques, douce fille 🤍🤍🤍

⤷ yn tu me manques aussi maman 💗

⤷ sharlsworld pascale said “my beautiful daughter! i miss you sweet girl” y/n said “i miss you too mom”

⤷ lovely_leclerc she’s literally the daughter she never had i’m sobbing 😭

alex_albon return him this instant

⤷ yn nahhhh

georgerussell63 Hmm interesting…

⤷ carmenmmundt Very interesting

landonorizz HELLLURRR WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THE LAST SLIDE??

iactuallyhateyn moving on already?

⤷ yn can i not have guy friends?

lilymhe healing era rn revenge era coming soon trust guys 🥰

⤷ yn 😉

charlesismyman69 home hopping is crazy poor charles i hope he’s ok

⤷ landonorris yeah poor charles i wonder how he’s feeling after cheating on his girlfriend of 4 years with her ex best friend

🝮

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc and 682,143 others

charles_leclerc Yawn

alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍😍

⤷ forzacharles GIRL

landonorris oh that not-

maxverstappen1 Brotha eughh

lilymhe downfall era 💀🔥

⤷ hoeforsainzzz lily muni he & oscar y/n defenders & charles haters: confirmed

♥︎ by lilymhe and oscarpiastri

estiebestie actually his downfall era though

lady.georgerussell erm what the sigma

carlando this should’ve stayed in the drafts

alex_albon this…not fye.

comments have been disabled

🝮

yn

liked by schecoperez and 5,592,781 others

yn life lately 🍉

leclerc_pascale My girl!! You’re like a breath of fresh air for my soul 🤍🤍

⤷ yn you always light up my day maman 🤍

♥︎ by leclerc_pascale

arthur_leclerc i totally won the diving contest idc what everyone else says

⤷ lorenzotl No I definitely did

⤷ yn you two basically belly flopped i won

scuderiaferrari We miss our girl! ❤️

♥︎ by author

charlottesiine cutie pie 😉😘🥰😍

⤷ yn your the reason why 🙂‍↔️

♥︎ by charlottesiine

landonorris fucked that pasta up

⤷ yn no sauce was detected on that plate after lunch

francisca.cgomes living for this

georgerussell63 I fear you won

⤷ yn 🥇🥇

forzacharles SCREAMING RIGHT NOW WHAT IS GOING ON

estiebestie pascale? arthur? lorenzo? charlotte? i’m deceased

carlossainzappendix she’s winning in life

🝮

yn

liked by danielricciardo and 11,017,535 others

yn worth the wait

landonorris i’d wait a million years for you

⤷ yn you’re to sweet to me

lilymhe this is the revenge era

maxverstappen1 That’s my favorite couple

francisca.cgomes WOOOOOO

leclerc_pascale My daughter deserves all the good in life 🥰 I love you my girl ❤️

⤷ yn i love you maman 💗

arthur_leclerc ❤️❤️

oscarpiastri Now I gotta deal with all the lovely dovey stuff

⤷ yn don’t act like your not happy about this

lewishamilton What did I say? Everything would be alright ❤️

⤷ yn so wise

lorenzotl My little star, you deserve all the love in the world 🌟💛

⤷ yn don’t make me cry enzo

joris__trouche 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

charlottesiine so happy for you pretty 💘

♥︎ by author

🝮

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell and 8,719,932 others

landonorris i’ll find you in every lifetime

yn nothing can keep us apart

⤷ landonorris nothing at all

francisca.cgomes are we surprised? no

danielricciardo Tone down the pda in the paddock plz 🙏🏽

⤷ landonorris nah fam

carmenmmundt Awhh so happy for you two

⤷ yn marry me carmen

⤷ carmenmmundt I’ll meet you at the altar

⤷ landonorris i just got her and your already taking her away from me 💔

pierregasly Hittin the clubs tonight

lilymhe shoutout to those un loyal bitches!!

alex_albon george owes me 200 bucks

⤷ georgerussell63 Whatever

⤷ yn uh what

⤷ alex_albon i said his post would be more sappy then yours

⤷ landonorris i hate you both

[thevoidstaredback]

Okay, so, crisis averted. Both of them, really. Red Robin had not asked or attempted to get any more of Danny's drink and the World Ending Crisis was less World Ending and more World Threatening. Either way, no one is hyped up in lethal amounts of caffeine and the world is in no more pieces than it had been before.

That brings attention to a new problem, though. It's uniquely Danny's problem and Constantine and Zatanna and Deadman won't stop laughing at him. He's also pretty sure that Raven is laughing at him in the privacy of her mind, so that's making him feel worse.

The problem is that every single hero that had been at the meeting a week ago that was not a part of the JLD has been overly concerned about him.

So what if he half died when he was fourteen and therefore will never look over either fourteen or eighteen? So what if he consumes enough caffeine to kill an elephant within a few minutes? What is he gonna do, die? That's not a real threat as long as he only fights as Phantom.

Ignoring the fact that he can, in fact, get hurt to the point of near death as Phantom. It's not like anyone knows that, though! Besides, ghosts run on god rules. They can't die, only fade when forgotten. People aren't likely to forget about most ghosts, though, even if they can't remember their names.

He's not gonna share that, though. Let Batman keep his contingency that won't work because the only contingency that will work for Phantom is the one he made himself. Tried and tested! He's marked it off of his Bingo Card.

Anyway. Heros and their kids/proteges have been trying to track him down for the entire week. He can't risk even leaving the House of Mysteries because the Supers are all probably listening out for him and they can't hear him through magic. It sucks. He just wants to go get a cup of coffee as Danny. The second he leaves, though, the Supers will be on him like bloodhounds. He'd leave as Danny, but the rest of the JLD don't know what he looks like as Danny and he'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. Being stuck as Phantom was going to start causing issues to his human half if he doesn't get to leave soon.

Should he risk it? Is coffee that won't kill him really worth risking the Supers finding out his civilian identity? Sure, they wouldn't tell anyone, but he didn't like the idea of someone being able to pick him out of a crowd when all he wanted to do was blend in. It's why he avoided Gotham and Bludhaven, actually, but that's both self explanatory and another story for another time.

"You're still here?" Zatanna sat on the couch beside him. "You're normally gone by now. You can't not be tired of us yet."

He sighed and sunk down into the couch slightly. "Believe me, I'm tired of being stuck here, but I can't leave. I can't leave as a human because you guys don't know what I look like and, no offense, but I'd like to keep it that way. I can't leave as I am now because Superman will be on my ass quicker than I can blink!" He whined this time, "I just want a cup of coffee."

"What about your special brew?" Raven asked, coming into the room.

"I want to drink coffee as a human. That stuff will kill me if I drink it as a human."

"At least you know your limits."

"That sounded like a dig at someone, Z."

"It was."

"Why don't you just go out under a protection spell?" Raven offered, "We could cast one over you and you could leave. Superman can't hear through magic, so he won't be able to tell. Neither will Superboy."

Danny thought for a second. "You're a genius, Raven! Has anyone ever told you that?"

"A few times," she blushed.

"Well, it needs to be said more!"

Zatanna laughed. "Alright, kid, let's get you outside before you drive yourself crazy."

Practically vibrating in place, Danny waited for the protection spell to settle over him. The second it did, he was out the door and wandering the streets of whatever city the House of Mysteries decided to drop him as Danny instead of Phantom.

"Who are you," was not the question or voice he wanted to hear the second he stepped into the open as himself.

"Danny," he squeaked out through his absolute panic. He didn't dare turn around.

The sound of fabric moving minutely clues him in to the second person behind him. What the hell were these two doing out? It's the middle of the day and there's no attacks going on anywhere in Gotham!

"Where did you come from?" Robin asked.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! This was really bad! Why did the House drop him *here* of all places? Does it *want* him to die again? It was very painful the first time, thank you very much! "Illinois?"

"Was that a question or an answer?" Why is Red Robin here now?!

"An-an answer?"

"Ah, you guys are scaring the little guy!" That was Nightwing. They're surrounding him! Why is Nightwing here? This is Gotham, not Bludhaven. "Give him some room to breathe."

They did not, in fact, give him room to breathe. Maybe coming outside was a bad idea. If he gets out of this no more dead than he already was, he was going to move to the middle of nowhere and become a hermit. Smallville is a town in the middle of nowhere, right? He'll retire as Phantom and move to Smallville until the people get suspicious and burn him as a witch-!

Maybe moving to a big city would be a better idea. Or locking himself in the basement of the House of Mysteries. Yeah, yeah that's a good idea.

"-even listening?"

Oh shit. They were still talking to him! Now is not the time to panic! "Gottagobye!" And then he was running.

Good job not panicking, Danny.

Part 1 Part 3

[lovebugism]

“don’t you dare touch him” eddie x shy!reader

idk i need a situation where reader never really speaks up but she finally does when it comes to eddie because she loves him sm😭

thanks so much for your request! hope you like it!! — the one where eddie melts when his quiet gf sticks up for him in front of jason (shy!reader, fluff, 2.4k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

The drive from Forest Hills to the arcade is spent with Lucas and Dustin bickering in the backseat and Eddie’s hand on your thigh.

“It’s been two years, and you still can’t beat my high score, Dusty Bun,” the former boy taunts. The nickname spills like venom from his smiling face. “Just give it up, okay? It’s not happening.”

Dustin grins back at him. It’s more so mischievous than it is taunting. His deep blue eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “You are so gonna be eating your words by the end of the night. When we leave, Princess Daphne is gonna be mine, alright? For good.”

Their arguing becomes background noise. With your cheek lolled against the hand you’ve got propped against the window, you’re pulled into the wispy lilac cloud your gaze is so heavily fixated upon. The sky billows lavender against a sea of pink and golden orange — a summer sunset so vivid you can taste it.

The only thing keeping you grounded is Eddie’s palm on your knee, wide and warm and all-consuming. His thumb rubs against your skin so softly you think it must be absentminded. It feels like static shock, anyway. He laughs quietly to himself, and his fingers tremble gently against you. This time they squeeze you with a newfound intention as he brings you back to him.

“What do you think, babe?” Eddie asks, pink mouth spread in a pearly white grin. His chocolate eyes glimmer with the golden hour sun as his gaze flits between yours and the road. “Think Dusty Bun has a chance here?”

You nod, scrunched nose and squinted eyes, silent in your support for the curly-headed boy who’s still yelling over Lucas in the back of the van.

“What about me?” he presses. And because he knows better than to give his quiet girl anything other than a yes or no answer, he follows quickly, “You think today’s the day I finally beat your Space Invaders high score?”

A beat passes. The momentary silence is filled with arguing boys, old tires on older asphalt, and Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” spilling softly from the radio. A quiet smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You purse the mischievous expression to the side as you turn away from him again.

Your non-answer makes him laugh. It sounds exactly like the colors of the sunset.

His beat-up van jerks when he puts it into park. The door on the side squeaks as the kids file out of it. Eddie’s does too, but you can’t hear it over him telling you to “sit tight.” 

You wait patiently in the passenger seat like you always do, smiling to yourself as the boy rushes around the hood to open the door for you. The hinges screech in protest. His wild curls billow in the wind as he smiles. “C’mon, sunshine. Our palace awaits.”

The group of you stand beneath the spinning neon sign he parked next to — glowing orange and white beneath a setting sun. Someone calls from across the parking lot, “Well, well, well. Look who it is.”

Your heads snap in the direction of the painfully familiar voice. 

Jason and the rest of his abnormally tall goons stand outside the new gym that just opened on the strip. The dark, vacant building wedged between The Palace and Family Video was no longer as scary as it used to be now that it was occupied. You were just hoping it’d be something more exciting. Forcing arcade nerds and gym bros into one spot feels like a crime.

“And they brought little miss wallflower, too,” Jason lilts with his pretty smile and straight teeth. His blonde hair is a darker shade of brown, damp with half-dried sweat. His lean form is unnaturally built underneath his white tank top and basketball shorts. 

It isn’t any wonder why he turned out to be such a raging douchebag. 

Someone so perfect needed at least one flaw.

“The gang’s all here, huh?” one of his other friends — Andy, you think — concurs from behind him, always in the boy’s shadow.

“Like what you see, fellas?” Eddie calls out from across the slab of pavement separating the group of you. He’ll never turn down an opportunity to take the piss out of the so-called jocks, all muscle and no brain. 

“What do we do when those assholes give us hell?” he’d often ask when you’ve had a particularly shitty day with them. “We give ‘em hell right back.”

Jason’s thin lips curl into a more mischievous smirk. His blue eyes are lighter in the golden sunlight, and they twinkle beneath the neon signs as he looks you up and down. “Yeah, actually,” he hums with his unabashed ogling. “I do.”

Mike’s lanky legs sidestep to stand ahead of you. He does it so swiftly, so instinctually, you don’t think he even really meant to do it. Despite the raven-haired boy halfway covering you, you cross your arms over your torso in a further attempt to keep yourself hidden. 

You feel so suddenly exposed in your frilly floral sundress — especially considering the only thing you wear to school is baggy jeans and baggier sweaters. You feel like you might as well be naked standing in front of them just now.

The younger boys stand on high alert as Eddie walks the short distance to Jason. The brief journey is made quicker when the blonde boy strides to meet him halfway. It’s a high school sort of standoff — neither particularly wanting to get physical because the real-life repercussions aren’t worth it. They just want to see who can piss each other off the most.

“She is pretty, isn’t she?” Eddie concedes with a grin, flashing you a brief glance over his shoulder. He turns away quickly at the sight of your wide, pleading eyes. He scrunches his nose in feigned sympathy. “I bet you’re real jealous, huh? Especially now that you’ve got nothing but your right hand keeping you company ever since Chrissy dumped your ass.”

“Watch it,” Jason warns through gritted teeth.

“I think I saw her riding around last week with Harrington, actually.”

The blonde boy’s sneakers scuff against the concrete as he takes a daring step closer. His piercing stare never wavers. “Don’t talk about Chrissy.”

“Don’t talk about my girl, and I won’t talk about yours,” Eddie retorts in lilt. And then, because he can’t help but twist the knife, he tilts his head to his shoulder and continues. “Well, I guess she’s not really yours anymore, is she?”

“I said don’t talk about Chrissy!” Jason repeats, louder than before, when he lets his anger get the best of him. One hand shoots up to shove at Eddie’s chest, using only enough force to make the boy stumble slightly back. 

While Dustin, Lucas, and Mike gear up for a fight, Eddie only laughs in response — big, boisterous, and boyish.

You don’t even realize you’re stepping in front of the group until you’re already doing it. The words seem to fly from your mouth without you even thinking about them. “Don’t touch him!” you shout. 

And even though it wasn’t particularly loud, it quiets in the mindless bickering all at once. Everyone turns to gape at you — Jason, Andy, Dustin, Eddie. Everyone is equally surprised by your outburst. Because you don’t speak. Ever. At least, not if you can help it. 

And it’s not because you don’t have anything to say, because you do. It’s just that your brain works too much, and your mouth can’t keep up with it sometimes. It’s easier just to be silent.

That’s what you’ve been known for ever since you were little. You went through all of it — the bullying, the sad eyes, the talks with teachers, the ‘is everything alright at home’s. Everything was fine, for the most part. Your childhood was equally as middling as everyone else’s. You just had a harder time being human than most people.

Jason smiles again, amused by your warning. “What was that, sweetheart?”

You swallow through a tightening throat. Your sweaty hands clench into balls at your sides. The words come out quieter than before, but no less meaningful. “I said… Don’t touch him.”

“Oh, so she does speak. Here I thought no one ever taught you how to,” the blonde boy laughs. You feel disgusting when his attention settles solely upon you. The lingering sick feeling is eclipsed by your gratitude that Eddie’s no longer in his line of fire. “I’m gonna be honest… I thought you were cuter when you were quiet.”

You don’t know what he means by that. You can’t tell if he’s being genuine, or if he thinks you care enough about what he thinks to slink back into your shell.

“Leave Eddie alone,” you retort drily.

He snorts. “Yeah? Or what?”

There’s a thousand words you want to say. You open your mouth to spit all of them at the boy across from you, but nothing comes out.

“Yeah,” Jason laughs at your silence. “That’s what I thought.”

You stand your ground when he walks towards you. His strides are slow and menacing, like he’s expecting you to back away. You might’ve if you were anywhere else — if Eddie wasn’t a couple feet away and the rest of your friends weren’t crowding behind you. You’re made somehow braver by their presence.

“This is a really cute dress, though, sweetheart,” the blonde boy compliments with a thin smirk. “You should dress like this more often. You know what? You’d really fit in at the strip club downtown— what’s it called?”

“Pink Paradise,” Andy answers without missing a beat.

Jason smacks his lips against his teeth. “That’s the one.”

“Is that the one your mom works at?” you wonder with your arms crossed over your chest. Your head tilts to your shoulder as you squint at him. “Is she still giving those two-for-one discounts?” 

Jason’s confidence stutters at your biting reply — even more so by the choked-back laughter accompanying it. Your boys don’t bother to hide their humored giggles, though the basketball team covers theirs by coughing into their fists.

“Ooh. I didn’t know you had such a much on you,” the blonde lilts as his blue eyes narrow. “I’m like… fifty percent more attracted to you now.”

“Leave Eddie alone,” you deadpan once more. “And go be a douchebag somewhere else.”

One of his friends breaks free from the pack. He’s tall, thin, and toned. He’s got the same haircut as Lucas: compact curls, squared off on the sides. You know him — Patrick McKinney. He’s the only one of Jason’s friends that was actually nice to you. Or, at the very least, he wasn’t a total asshole.

“Let’s go, man,” the boy ushers, nudging at Jason’s bicep. “Let’s go shoot some hoops or something. This isn’t worth it.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Oh, please— the only shooting Jason Carver does is into a kleenex. It’s why you were benched all last season.”

“I twisted my ankle!” the blonde boy defends, sounding weak and pathetic beneath the chorus of laughter as Patrick drags him away.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you mutter, perhaps too quiet for him to hear, as Lucas pulls at your forearm to guide you in the other direction. His touch is still gentle — it would be uncharacteristic of him to be rough with you. It would also be a terrible idea with Eddie just a few paces behind the both of you.

The walk to The Palace is a silent one. There’s too much to say, and everyone’s just a little too amazed to say it. Eddie, however, never had a hard time killing a quiet. He rushes on long legs to match your quick strides, reaching you rather easily. 

“Hey, hey, hey— you okay, babe?” the worried boy wonders. He takes a gentle hold of your wrists when you reach the awning beneath the arcade. His chocolate gaze flits attentively over your form, nowhere near as leering as Jason had been. 

He can tell by your heaving chest and glassy eyes that you’re a little overwhelmed. When he takes your face in his hands, he finds that your cheeks are burning, too.

You nod into his warm palms in silent reply, back in the comfort of your shell all over again.

“What’d you do that for, huh?” Eddie singsongs with a quiet laugh. His thumb dances over your cheekbones as he grins at you. “You know I don’t like you getting involved with those assholes.”

“They don’t get to talk to you like that… Or put their hands on you,” you mutter. Despite your soft tone, Eddie can see the fury flashing in your eyes, getting angry about it all over again.

His smile widens — proud and hopelessly in love with you. “No. They don’t. Especially not with my girl around, huh?”

“Nope,” you murmur, popping the p. A sheepish grin pulls at your mouth, equally as proud and in love.

Eddie leans down to kiss you, guiding your mouth to his with the hands cupping your jaw. It’s innocuously chaste, being that you’re still standing in a public parking lot. You could never quite stomach the attention of PDA, anyway. His pink lips lock with yours in a fleeting peck, and his arms wrap around you a second later.

He smothers you into his chest, and you revel in every second of it. He smells like cigarette smoke and the cologne he tried to cover it up with. He smells like a home you could live in forever. 

You smile into the thrifted Blondie tee you got him — which he happily accepted because he loves you (even though he hates Blondie). He presses a kiss into your hair and smushes his nose into the crown of it as he laughs.

“‘Is that the one your mom works at?’” Eddie repeats with a soft chuckle, chest swelling with pride once more. “God, babe. That’s good.”

“Shut up…” you murmur.

“I’m serious! I didn’t know you were such a good smack-talker! I think you might be a genius, actually.”

“Don’t,” you grouse with a lighthearted scowl. You pull away from him only slightly — enough for him to put your face back in his hands again. You feel safest there, even if you are pouting up at him.

“You’re so cute,” the boy muses with a beam. His eyes glimmer like a sea of chocolate syrup, melting with all the love he has for you. “You’re like a cinnamon roll. A cinnamon roll that could bite people.”

“That’s exactly what I am,” you monotone and try your best not to smile.

Eddie couldn’t hide his grin if he tried. “And that’s exactly why I love you.”

[vxnuslogy]

— will they, won’t they.

pairing: hoshina soshiro x gn!reader

premise: hoshina soshiro has been hopelessly in love with you for years now. and for the first time, you finally hear him say the words "i love you."

— warnings: down bad + jealous hoshina, modern setting, reader is a kyudo player.

— author's note: little miss says she's going on a break then proceeds to write about hoshina soshiro for all the dying fans (its me, i'm the dying fans.) art credits to @.BByo_chick on twitter.| ~700 words.

“how long are ya gonna keep me here?”

“no one is forcing you to.”

hoshina only clicks his tongue and stares at the dojo walls. his finger impatiently tapping at his chin as he hits crossed leg on the floors. it’s half past 5 in the afternoon now and you have no intentions of going home anytime soon.

“i’m gettin’ bored here,” he drawls, hands stretching over his head as he watches you shoot another arrow with pin-point accuracy that makes his smirk twitch uncomfortably. you’ve gotten too good at kyudo, and it shows.

“then go home,” you reply as you pull the bow back and aim for your next shot. “you don’t have to keep waiting for me to finish.”

but that was the thing: hoshina wanted to wait for you and he always will.

he wants everyone to know that you had him and he’s all you’ll ever need. there was no need for that guy who caught your fall a few days ago—not when he’s been catching you for the past 3 years. he was your guide in the train station every morning, so why do you keep trying to go to the station earlier and ask your junior for directions? hoshina soshiro was always by your side, so why couldn’t you see that?

“i’ll wait,” he murmurs into his hand, eyes looking at anything but at you. “got nothin’ to do at home anyways.”

it was a weak excuse, but it always does the trick. you always relent and let him stay but not without throwing a look over your shoulder that screams “you’re acting strange.” because he was. hoshina, against his will, feels his lips being tugged into a frown whenever you interact with anyone that isn’t him.

that sounds very bad–it is bad in a sense–but hoshina would never dream of taking away your freedom. so he just watches, painfully by the sidelines, with a scoff on his face as another student from a rival school stammers to ask for your number. it was irritating, having to watch everyone throw themselves at you when you’re clearly uninterested. 

“what the hell will happen if i’m not by yer side, captain.” hoshina jests as you pack up your stuff and lock the dojo.

“is this about earlier?” you ask with an amused lilt to your voice. “when the new student asked for my number?”

hoshina hated how you always aimed for the heart.

“i have no idea what yer talkin’ about,” he weakly tries to change the topic. hoshina racks his brain to think of something—anything—to help change the conversation, but his mind keeps circling back to you. how you almost looked serious when some guy–who was leagues below you by the way–had the gall to ask you out for a date.

“never took you for the jealous type.” you tease.

“it’s because ‘m not.” he said through gritted teeth, hands balling into small fists against his school bag. “‘m lookin’ out for ya, alright? that guy was a creep. i’m keepin’ yer ass safe from weirdos.”

you looked unconvinced but didn’t comment on his unusual aggressiveness. hoshina let out a frustrated sigh, a hand coming to ruffle your hair and pull just a tiny bit closer that would make everyone question your relationship. this was driving him crazy but he couldn’t do anything about it.

“‘m not jealous. get that over yer pretty little head.”

and until you both got on the train and went your separate ways to go home, hoshina soshiro never once let your hand drop to your side. he kept you impossibly close to his side and whispered sweet good lucks into your ear. body so comfortably lax in your presence he was slouching on the train seat so he could bury his nose in your hair. 

hoshina soshiro was so unfathomably in love with you. 

how could he not love you when you use your own heartbeat to calm his erratic one during every competition? when every hug has his mind spinning with gold and you. every victory is dedicated to your name, and no trophy or medal could ever compare to the feeling of running into your arms and drowning in your praise.

“i love you.” he mutters as you sleep peacefully on his shoulder on your way home. how many years has he been saying it before he lost count? it’s truly just a matter of when you’ll wake up and finally realize it yourself.

he feels the blood rush to his brain as he throws himself on his bed, unable to wipe the image of you smiling as if you had heard him.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ my muse (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : max verstappen x fem reader

summary : the chaotic private account of an artistic soul 💫

tw : fluff, a little chaos, suggestive

a/n : So this was requested anonymously, so if you are seeing this, Hope you like it 💫

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by max1, lordperceval, albono, lilihye, alexamiuex, and 37 others

maxwife the italian view 💫 one for the day ☀️ one for the night 🌝

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albono you stare at him, he stares at the podium ✊🏻

max1 stop being sour about driving a cart

lordperceval your just lucky you have a good car

max1 “ i have the longest contract ferrari has ever offered” lordperceval dw max, lewis is joining the misery gang 😮‍💨 hamsandwich fuck you mate

maxwife the only way you are staying at Mercedes is if you bang Toto 😮‍💨

hamsandwich he already is fukinh me 🤺

maxwife Toto follows me -

hamsandwich WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU LET 40 YEAR OLD FOLLOW YOU! norizz and you are what- 18 ?

max1 YOU ARE MY WIFE Y/N, STOP FOLLOWING DILFS, TOTO 🤺🤺🤺

maxwife I was joking - fransisca.gnomes it's alright y/n, they all have a thing for Toto

totomercedes everyone, I am married and do not harbour any feelings for the same gender with all due respect

hamsandwich TOTO WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE !? max1 I will sign to Mercedes just for a shirtless pic 🚗 totomercedes check dms.

maxwife can. everyone. stop. simping. over. toto.

chillisainz lando, that ass be looking smashable 😮‍💨

norizz aww, my room is on 7th floor 🤭 georgey open the door, I am ringing the bell 💪🏻 maxwife if you want your balls to not be cut into pringles , leave my girlies and then suck your homies 🫷🏻 carmenvroom ily y/n 💌 maxwife I got your back @ carmenvroom and a knife and your balls @ georgey

lordperceval max,kiss me the way you kiss the trophy

maxwife OYE, STAY AWAY FROM MY HUSBAND 🤺🤺 maxwife MAX IS MINE 🤺🤺🤺🤺

max1 charles, in another lifetime 😞

maxwife yall are supposed to be driving cars on the grid

lordperceval yet we drive each other crazy @ max1 max1 🤭💌

maxwife yall are banned, that's it, OUT 🤺

liked by max1, albono, hamwich, fransisca.gnomes and 28 others

maxwife the muse and the art 💫

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max1 she gifted me the painting y’all

max1 I won in life 😙😌

alexmiuex love, we need to visit the museums together 🫶🏻

maxwife let’s ditch the men species carmenvroom count me in ✊🏻 fransisca.gnomes me too 🫶🏻😗

pierreneedsgas for gods sake, keep you wife away from mine

norriz did I miss something -

fransisca.gnomes when did I become your wife ?

lordperceval oh lord, GASLY KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT ��

maxwife OMG, KIKA mcdkcmdkcjdicjdicjdcijdcidjcidj

pierreneedsgas ITS OUT NOW, I SHOULD JUST TELL IT

hamsandwich my phone is out ☺️

albono his hands are shaking while typing 🌝

pierreneedsgas STOP ALEX ALBON

fransiscka.gnomes amour ❤️ ?

pierreneedsgas well, I wanted to do this in person, but ig my mouth spoiled it

pierreneedsgas Happy April’s Fool day 😊

maxwife that’s it, YALL ARE OUT INCLUDING MY HUSBAND

fransisca.gnomes girls, number 44

hamsandwich what?

carmenvroom ignore the real number 44

lordperceval Pierre, Alexandra just left the house

albono so did lily … max1 so did this account user

maxwife I have a name

max1 you are the love of my life, the reason I look forward to every day, the muse and the thrill to win each and every race max1 if you were not there, I would have not survived the lowest of my life max1 I want you to know that whatever I may say, I hold you above anyone else, and if needed, I would die for you without anything asked maxwife I am crying now 🥹 I love you so much my wdc ❤️ Pierre, take tips pierreneedsgas yes ma’am 🫡

[vanteguccir]

Reader taking control over matt and riding him slowly but then matt quickly grabbing her hips and thrusting up into her mercilessly while saying “shhh shhh pretty girl” out of breath and touching her sweaty hair

Holy shit I just came writing this

── ୨୧ !　a small blurb where you take control over Matt for a split second before he puts you in your place again

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

Y/N's fingers traced the lines of Matt's jaw, her touch feather-light but charged with an electric energy that sent shivers down his spine. She was straddling his hips, her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of him, grounding her as she took in the sight of him beneath her. Matt's dark eyes were half-lidded with a mix of longing and surrender, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath.

"You're so beautiful." She murmured, her voice a sultry whisper that made Matt's heart race. She leaned down, capturing his lips in a slow, deliberate kiss, her tongue teasing his bottom lip before slipping inside to dance with his. Matt's hands roamed her back, his fingers splaying wide to feel as much of her as possible, his touch both possessive and worshipful.

She was riding him slowly, her movements deliberate and controlled, the sensation almost torturous in its intensity. Each roll of her hips elicited a deep groan from Matt, his grip on her tightening as he struggled to maintain his composure.

"Fuck, dove." He gasped, his voice breaking on her name. "You're driving me crazy."

Y/N's lips curved into a wicked smile, her eyes glinting with mischief.

"Is that so?" She teased, increasing the pressure just slightly, enough to make Matt's head fall back against the pillows, his jaw clenched in an effort to hold back the loud moans threatening to spill from his lips, letting out low and long whines.

"Yes." He managed to choke out, his hands moving from her hips to her thighs, his fingers digging into her flesh as if anchoring himself to reality. "God, yes."

She leaned down, her mouth finding his neck, her teeth grazing his skin before she kissed the spot gently.

"Good." She whispered, her breath hot against his ear. "I want you to feel everything."

The slow, deliberate movements were driving Matt to the brink, his body trembling with the need for more. He opened his eyes, meeting her gaze with a look of pure desperation.

"Babe, please." He pleaded, his voice a low growl. "I need more."

Y/N paused, her eyes narrowing slightly as she considered his words. Her body ached with a desire that only Matt could fulfill, and the sight of him beneath her, vulnerable and desperate, was enough to make her relent.

"Alright, pretty boy." She said, her voice softening, but there was still a hint of command in her tone. She lifted herself slightly, her hands resting on his chest as she began to move faster, her pace still controlled but with a new urgency that matched the fire burning between them.

Matt's eyes fluttered closed, a deep groan rumbling in his chest as he felt the change in her movements. He couldn't take it anymore. In a swift, fluid motion, his hands gripped her hips tightly while his legs moved so his feet found stability above the mattress, and he finally thrust up into her deeply, his movements hard and merciless.

Y/N's eyes widened, a loud and high-pitched moan escaping her lips as she felt the force of his thrusts. She could feel all of him brushing every corner of her warm walls, his swollen head hitting and bruising her cervix again and again.

"Shhh, shhh, pretty girl." He murmured, his voice strained and breathless. "Take it. Take all of it."

The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that left her trembling. Matt's hands moved to her hair, his fingers tangling in the sweaty strands as he pulled her down for a bruising kiss, his tongue dominating hers in a way that left her breathless.

"You know I'm the one with the real control, sweetheart." He growled against her lips, his voice thick with possessiveness. "I control you. Not the other way around, yeah?"

Y/N could only nod, her mind too foggy with pleasure to form coherent words. She clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she matched his pace, their bodies moving in perfect sync. Each thrust brought them closer to the edge, the tension building between them until it was almost unbearable.

"Fuck, Matt." She cried out, her voice breaking as she felt the wave of pleasure crash over her, her body convulsing in his arms. "'Fucking me so good."

Matt’s grin was feral, his thrusts never faltering as he watched Y/N lose every control above him.

"That’s right, scream my name. Let everyone know who owns this pussy." He growled, his pace relentless.

Y/N’s vision blurred, the pleasure too intense, her body on fire. Matt’s words, filthy and degrading, only heightened the sensations coursing through her.

"Please, Matt, I can’t-" She gasped, her voice trembling. But he wasn’t having it.

"You can, and you will." He commanded, his hands gripping her waist tighter, bruising, while his hips moved in an incredible fast pace, his legs burning with the force he was applying. "You’re going to take every inch, like the good little thing you are."

His words sent a shockwave through her, her walls clenching around him involuntarily. The friction was maddening, each thrust sending her spiraling further into a state of bliss.

"Look at you, completely at my mercy." Matt continued, his voice a low rumble. "Begging for it. Needing it."

"Yes, yes, I need it." She whimpered, her nails raking down his chest, leaving angry red trails in their wake.

"Fuck, you’re so tight." He groaned, his thrusts becoming more erratic, a sign that he was close. "Squeezing me so good, sweetheart."

Y/N’s body arched, the combination of his words and the relentless pace pushing her towards her orgasm. She could feel him swelling inside her, every inch of him claiming her completely.

"Come for me, pretty girl." Matt demanded, his voice rough with need. "Come all over my cock."

With a final, desperate cry, Y/N’s body shattered around him, her orgasm tearing through her with a force that left her breathless, her upper body only remaining up because of his hold on her. Matt’s grip on her tightened, his own release following soon after, his hot seed filling her completely.

"Fuck! That's it, baby. Now you understand why I'm the one in control, huh?"

I'm sorry this ended up being longer, I'm in my period LMAO 🤭😞

[animasola86]

SMUT DRABBLES*: Belly Bulge

A/N: So. You may or may not know this about me, but I have a size kink. One of my favorite tropes to write and read is tiny woman/big man. And with that information in mind, I give you something called Belly Bulge. Pretty self-explanatory, right? // As with my other Smut Drabbles (*we're still under 1k, baby, this is a drabble!), you can imagine any character here, or just keep it neutral/anonymous, whatever you like! Warnings for this one are: (obviously) size difference, unprotected sex, choking and I guess breeding kink if you squint.

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! // WORDS: 825 // AO3

She stares at the little bulge with childlike fascination.

Moving her hands over her flat stomach, fingers shaking slightly, she presses down gently. A gasp escapes her when he moves behind her, his big hands on her small breasts, cupping them completely, squeezing, kneading, calloused palms rubbing over her hard nipples. His wide body beneath her, her cushioned rear squished to his lower stomach, shoulders pressing into his chest, his cock so deep inside her she can feel it prodding against her soft skin, literally stretching her limits.

The couch creaks beneath them as he starts thrusting upwards, his strong thighs moving against her feet that are tucked under his legs, her own spread almost painfully wide to give him better access. She watches him slide in and out, her hands rubbing down her mound, fingertips brushing against her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her body, her folds parting wide with every deep plunge.

She moans, throwing her head back against his shoulder, when his thick cockhead scrapes over that sweet spot, almost rams into it in that position, before slipping deeper, denting her belly from within. She feels it against her palms, the constant nudging that drives her crazy. And the stretch. How he carves his way into her small body, presses between her tight muscles, molding her to his size.

When he had put his length onto her stomach to show her how far he would reach inside her, she had thought it was impossible to fit all of him into her tiny pussy, but he had made it work, inch by hard inch, with shallow snaps of his hips, as he went deeper and deeper, and while she thought the pain would split her in two as he pushed hard against her resisting muscles, she had adjusted, surprisingly quick. Mostly because of his whispered words, his hot breath on her ear, as he encouraged her.

“Shh, it'll be alright, baby. It'll fit. I'll make it fit. You were made for this. You were made for me! Look how well you can take me, all of me... every... single... inch...”

His voice has lulled her, and now his rapid breaths and quiet groans fill her head, his clenched jaw rubbing against her temple as he keeps groping her chest whilst ramming up into her, finding space within her, stretching her, filling her, taking root inside her. He grunts when she presses down on her stomach, meeting his tip as it dents her from within, and it encourages him to move faster, his thigh muscles tensing while he pushes harder, maybe even deeper, slam after slam, nudge after nudge.

She howls and whines, mewls and moans, the sensation almost too much for her to handle. His hands leave her breasts, letting them bounce with every upward thrust; his long fingers move to her throat, curling around her slender neck, applying just enough pressure that she gasps while her eyes roll back; his other hand moves down to join hers, one large palm pressing down hard, forcing her to feel more of him through her soft flesh.

Hammering into her with fervor, his breaths grow ragged while her own quiet down, silenced by how he squeezes her throat. She's seeing stars now, her mouth wide open, saliva gathering in the corners, some dripping down her chin, as he holds her, pushing her towards the edge and far beyond, and she feels her body convulsing, thighs twitching, that tension in her stomach, hot and tight, pushed aside by his large cock hitting all the right spots.

She's already floating, but then his hand leaves her stomach and teases her clit, rough fingertips rubbing hard and fast circles as he keeps pounding into her from beneath, skin slapping against skin, every rapid plunge causing her wetness to squelch out, obscenely loud, a cacophony of sounds that make her head spin even more.

And then she comes, muscles contracting, clamping down on him hard, the wet heat that has built up within her forcing out of her. She cries out soundlessly, eyelids fluttering open, body contorting into an arc that lifts her slightly off him, causing him to sink deeper, making the bulge even bigger, and he stills, an animalistic growl leaving his parted lips as he follows her over the edge, cock twitching, balls tight and pumping, and he grabs her hand and presses it onto her stomach, feeling how he fills her up with spurt after spurt of hot cum.

His other hand eases its grip on her throat, and she gasps, falling against him, panting, head completely empty, while her belly feels so full. His warm lips brush against her sweaty forehead, a tender kiss to calm her down even more. She smiles tiredly before she closes her eyes, her palm over her womb as he pumps it full of him, marking her, breeding her, finding a place for himself deep within her.

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

MORE SMUT DRABBLES:

A steamy shower

Toy

Car Inspection

Tension Relief

Sleepy

On the edge

[rafecameroninterlude]

toxic!rafe manhandling toxic!reader when she gets bratty or snappy with him

warnings: dealer!rafe, sorta toxic relationship, cheating accusations, arguing, cussing, yelling, physical violence

[11:15 PM] ‘ray <333’ stopped sharing location with you

“what the fuck?” you sat up, staring at the words on your screen like they weren’t real. you called him not once, not twice, but ten times until you were pacing back and forth, imagining your boyfriend balls deep inside someone else. he said he’d be out dealing with barry on the cut, and that was more than enough reason for you to think of the worst. eventually you calmed down, your head shooting in the direction of the door once you heard it open. “what are you doing up still?” rafe tossed his keys on the dresser, plopping down on the bed with a sigh.

“it’s two in the morning, rafe.” your voice was eerily calm, immediately making his eyebrows knit in confusion. “yeah, and?” he reached for your arm, which you pulled away. “what the fuck is wrong with you?” he got up, dragging you with him. “why did you turn off your location?! you didn’t answer any of my calls.. what do you expect me to think?!” you shouted, pushing him in the chest, which turned out to be useless because he didn’t even budge. “i expect you to understand that if i’m not answering the phone it’s because i’m busy conducting business,” his grip on your wrists made your skin burn, “i didn’t just stop sharing my location, but i turned my phone off altogether because barry gets all fuckin’ paranoid. i wasn’t fucking around if that’s what you think.” you narrowed your eyes at him.

“you’re a liar.” you shoved him again, this time making him stumble. “how many times have i told you that i don’t even want to look at anyone else, let alone fuck them?! while you’re here driving yourself crazy, i’m out there making money for us so i could keep you happy,” he followed you into your shared closet, taking the bag you were stuffing clothes in, “you’re not going anywhere.” you shot daggers at each other, both of you fuming with anger. “i know that look in your eye. don’t do anything stupid, y/n.” you glanced at the keys on the dresser, rafe already two steps ahead of you as he picked you up and pinned you down to the bed. you let out a yelp, unable to move underneath his weight.

“i love you, alright? i would never hurt you like that. what did i say when i first put that promise ring and that pretty little finger?” your gaze softened, as did rafe’s. “you said you’d always be honest with me.” he nodded, letting your hands free. “i meant every word.” his voice was barely above a whisper as he leaned in slowly, taking your lips in a gentle kiss. as much as you adored this soft side of rafe, you couldn’t help but grind against him, his teeth nipping your bottom lip in response. “now i have to fuck you back in your place.”

[sinofwriting]

Every Kiss Begins With Tabs - Max Verstappen

Words: 1,544 Summary: Max and her have a tradition that was born from their first kiss. Note(s): The idea for this fic popped into my head one night, didn’t know what driver to do with it, and then quickly realized Max is the only option with him driving for a literal energy drink company. Also, this features Max and Charles being best friends, because your honor, I love them. (and features a bit of Ferrari bashing, because of course)

Masterlist | Support Me!

At the end of their first date, Max had watched as she shyly reached into her purse, fishing for something, before pressing a small thing into his hand and instinctively he held it. He didn’t even get a second to figure out what it was, since she kissed him as soon as it was pressed into his hand. It was small, barely a second, just a peck. But it had made him flush, staring at her with wide eyes before he murmured a quiet again.

Her bottom lip had found its way between her teeth for a second, before she nodded at his hand, the one she had pressed something into. For the kiss. He remembers her mumble, making her all the more cute to him, how she was shy yet bold in the same breath.

It had been near painful to look away from her, but he forced his eyes down as he uncurled his hand and saw a generic soda tab sitting in his palm. Her words rang in his ears and memories of watching girls in school give them to boys run through his head and he’s pressing their hands together, keeping it between their palms as he kisses her.

—

Max’s eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as he messes with the tab on his can of Red Bull. The sound of the press and his fellow drivers' voices washing over him. When it easily tears off, he pockets it, just as he’s asked a question.

“Over these last few months, you’ve been a lot happier. Many people thought it was you winning races making you so happy, but with Singapore happening, that has been disproven. Is there something other than winning that makes you so happy?” Max’s eyes darted over to his press officer, personal questions were on the no list for after races. She looks back at him with a raised eyebrow and he has to resist letting his brows press together. She clearly didn’t think this was personal and in nature he supposes it wasn’t, but it was leading. Raising the microphone to his lips, he speaks. “Well, I think I’d have a very boring, shit life if the only thing that made me happy was winning.” The reporter coughs, “Of course. But nothing new in your life?” “Not that I can think of.” There’s a frown on the reporter's face, but they don’t ask anything else, and the session is called to a close.

“I fucking hate reporters.” Max murmurs as he walks out the room. Charles snorts, hearing him and gently bumping their shoulders together. “I couldn’t tell.” “Haha. Was a good race for you today, though.” “I feel like I need a fucking bodyguard. I’ve been getting threats like crazy.” Max winces, having seen some for himself and also knowing from experience how bad they could get. “Ferrari hasn’t hired any for you?” He scoffs, “No, too much faith, I suppose.” “Stick close, come to Red Bull’s hotel with me, I’ve got an extra room and security.” “Ooh.” Charles teases, poking at his side as they exit the building. “Look at the golden boy with his security.” Max rolls his eyes, but feigns away as he reaches out again. “Are you coming or not?” He scoffs again. “Of course. I’m too pretty to be killed.” It’s Max’s turn to scoff, “You're something, alright.” he mutters.

Entering Red Bull’s garage with Charles would feel weird if it weren't for the fact that for nearly all of this season Bradley, Christian, Tom, GP, or himself had all been sneaking the Ferrari driver in. Max knows that Christian is hoping with them allowing Charles access to their garage and helping hide him away from Ferrari that he’ll join their team, and Max isn’t too proud to say that he’s started to wish that too.

“I’ve gotta get something from Christian first.” Max murmurs when Charles makes a confused hum when they don’t immediately go to his driver’s room. “Also, might want to text something to collect your stuff.” “Andrea will get it. I just need the hotel and room number so he can send some stuff over.” “Don’t want to sleep in Red Bull branded clothes?” Charles sniffs, sticking his chin in the air, perfectly making a haughty face. “Of course not. I have fashion sense.”

—

“You want room service or something delivered from somewhere?” Charles stares at him, “Mate.” Max grins at him before returning his gaze to his phone. “Had to ask. We do have Brazil next weekend after all.” “I want all the tacos in the world right now.” “Margaritas as well?” It’s silent for a second, “why not. Just one though.” Max rolls his eyes, typing out the number ten before hitting send.

“Food has been ordered.” “Thank god. I’m starving.” “Not going to offer to pay?” Max jokes, even though he’d refuse. “God no.” He scoffs before grinning at him. “Thank you, Max, honestly.” “It’s no problem.”

“When will the food get here?” Charles asks nearly thirty minutes later as Max unlocks the door. “Already here.” He tells him, opening the door up and stepping through.

Tossing his backpack to the armchair, he doesn’t see the confused look on Charles’ face or how it grows more confused when Max fishes something out of his pocket and holds it out, a grin on his face as he stands just beside the suite's sofa.

Charles nearly stumbles when a girl appears out of nowhere, words gathering on his tongue, only for them to die before they can form when she takes whatever it is out of Max’s hand and kisses him. He knows his mouth is open, jaw dropped, as he stares at the two.

“Hello.” Max murmurs, pulling away after pressing another kiss to her lips. Her head is tilted up a bit to look at him, nose scrunching a little as she smiles. “Hi. Well done on the race.” He grins and is unable to resist kissing her again before finally separating from her, only to wrap an arm around her and pull her into his side as he turns them both to face Charles. “Charles, this is Y/N, my girlfriend.” The other driver blinks at them for a few seconds before smiling. “Hello. It’s lovely to meet you.” He tells her, stepping forward to greet her with a hug, giving Max a thumbs up when she easily goes along with it. Max snorts at the thumbs up.

“Congrats on your race as well, Charles. Always nice to see you on the podium.” “Oh.” He can feel his cheeks turn a little pink at the compliment. “Well, it is always nice to be there, even if he is always taking the top spot.” She laughs and then she’s ushering them both to sit down at the small table nearly overflowing with food. “Oh my god.” Charles breaths, staring at it all. “It’s beautiful.” “I think you're just hungry, mate.” Max remarks and Charles notices how she passes whatever Max handed her before they kissed back to the driver before giving him a peck on the lips. “Of course, I’m hungry.” His eyes wander over all the food, all the tacos, and he knows that Andrea will be pissed at their next session when Charles tells him what he ate, but he knows he won’t regret it. Even when Andrea makes the session a triple.

“Can I ask a question?” Charles asks, after they are done eating. The twelve tacos he ate and two margaritas he had in combination with pleasant company made him feel content. “Is it a stupid one?” “Max.” She playfully scolds, but there’s a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Of course.” “What is with the thing? The small thing you pass back and forth.” “Oh,” her eyes are a little wide and she seems to have stiffened and it has Charles' eyes widened. “You do not have to answer. I was just curious. You can of course tell me to shut up.” “No, it’s okay.” She shares a look with Max. “It’s just a habit, I don’t even really think about it anymore.”

Charles watches as she carefully extends her hand and opens it so he can stare at the thing the couple has been exchanging. His eyebrows furrow when he sees it’s a tab to a Red Bull can.

“Before I kissed Max for the first time, I gave him a tab from a soda can. It’s become a tradition of sorts.” His face softens at the explanation, and this whole weekend he has missed Alex, but now more than ever he wishes that she was able to come with him. “That is very sweet.” His lips then curl into a smirk and he looks at Max. “Must make sex uncomfortable though.” “You mother,” Max cuts himself off as he hits Charles with a pillow, his fellow driver howling with laughter. Hitting him with a pillow again, Max looks at her to see her laughing as well, face bright with joy and his hand is ducking into his pocket pulling out a spare tab he always keeps on him, pressing it into her hand before kissing her, ignoring the fake sounds of throwing up from Charles as he does.

@gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @topguncultleader @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67

[eccentricwritingbaby]

hard life or wag life?

carlos sainz jr x reader

summary - reader and carlos are in a fresh romance, but the comments online are starting to drive her crazy, questioning if the relationship is even worth all of the hate she receives. 

masterlist

-

it was sunday, race day. you despised race day. you were constantly on edge, worried about your boyfriend, worried about your appearance, worried about the fans. sunday was hard. but monday was worse. you were usually fighting a hangover, celebrations from the previous night going a bit too far. but it all came with twitter. and instagram. and the comments. 

as much as carlos kept telling you not to look, that the hate didn’t mean anything, you couldn’t help yourself. you would scroll as you woke up, seeing how many fans would comment on your relationship, your looks, your support. anything they could find to criticize, they would. 

you knew it was because your relationship was so fresh and that once the fans got to know you better, it would die down. but you were tired.

so here you were, hidden in the back of the garage, attempting not to draw too much attention to yourself as you watch your boyfriend. he’s currently talking to his engineer, eyes drifting every so often to meet your own. excusing himself from the conversation, he begins to make his way in your direction. 

“que haces?” what are you doing? he asks you, hands finding your hips to pull you closer, “no quieres pasar el rato con alexandra?” you don’t want to hang with alexandra?

“está cerca de los fans en la hospitalidad,” she’s around the fans in hospitality you shrug, looking up at him, his eyes laced with concern. 

“mi amor-” he starts, shaking his head.

“no, no,” you cut him off with a smile, “i’m alright,” assuring him further as he continues to watch you, “plus i get to see you more,” you giggle, poking his stomach to get a laugh. 

“muy cierto, mi amor,” very true, my love he leans in to press a quick kiss to your lips, “i love when you’re around,”

“i love being around,” a smile plastered on your face at his reassurance. 

“i have to get in the car soon,” he sighs, pulling you into a quick hug before starting his departure, “te quiero mucho, cariño,” i love you so much

“te queiro, carlos, buena suerte,” i love you, carlos, good luck you kiss him on the cheek and begin to move out of the garage in order to give the team their space. 

as you’re walking along, you hear your name called out and whip around to find the voice. coming face to face with carlos’ dad, you hug him and give your greetings while proceeding to walk with him to hospitality. 

“como estas, y/n?” how are you, y/n carlos senior asks you, holding an arm out for you to grab onto during your walk. 

you take his arm with a smile, “bueno, bueno,” good, good, “y usted?” and you?

“bueno,” he laughs as you arrive at hospitality, “listen, y/n, carlos told me about the online comments,” he starts with a sigh, pulling a chair out for you to sit.

as he takes the seat across from you, you can’t help but widen your eyes in shock that he knows, “what?”

“he’s worried about you, y/n,” carlos senior pushes, “and i just want to know if you’re okay,”

“i appreciate that, i really do,” you sigh, rubbing your palms over your thighs a few times, an anxious tick you have started to exhibit, “i’m okay, i’m alright, it just gets exhausting,”

“i’m sure,” he agrees, “just know that we don’t feel that way about you,” he reaches over to give you a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “and my son really doesn’t,” you both laugh at his last comment as he continues to mock how carlos loves you. a few moments later and the race had begun, carlos senior excusing himself to go watch from the garage. 

you sat and thought for a minute, hyper aware of the cameras and your appearance on the television. you could already hear the comments starting about how you weren’t in the garage, or how carlos’ dad had left you alone in hospitality, or how you and carlos weren’t around each other that much today, or how you arrived separately. it was making your brain itch. you couldn’t even focus on the race, too caught up in your own thoughts for a while. 

carlos having to retire his car brought you out of your fog, hearing the announcement had you getting up quickly and starting your own race to his garage. once entering into the madness, you spot your boyfriend in a heated discussion with his father and cousin, then overhearing them tell him to cool off. 

you attempt to walk up to him, but his cousin gets to you first. 

“not right now, y/n,” he shakes his head, “he’s too heated, you’ll want to give him a few minutes of space,”

“is he okay?” you ask with a nod of your head. 

“he’s fine, just pissed off,” you both share a knowing look, understanding that when carlos was mad, all he needs is his space, “give him five minutes and you should be good,”

“got it,” you nod your head again, “i’ll just wait in his drivers room,”

“okay, i’ll let him know,” with that, you walk to his room and sit down, patiently waiting to console your boyfriend. 

after minutes had passed, you were bored and needed a distraction from the thoughts clouding your mind. pulling out your phone and jumping onto twitter, you instantly regret your actions. 

‘why is carlos walking through the paddock alone? where tf is his girlfriend??’

‘y/n being a bad luck charm, what's new’

‘kika really showed out with her outfit today, and there was y/n…giving us nothing’

‘i’d ditch her like carlos’ dad too’

‘carlos and y/n didn’t even arrive together, he def is ab to breakup w her’

you sigh and throw your phone down, tears threatening to escape your eyes as the words continue to replay. the door creaks open, carlos spotting you in the corner and he lets out a breath. 

“amor…” you start, wiping your face and getting up to meet him in a hug. 

“y/n…” he wraps his arms around you, holding you and rocking you - letting you stabilize him and his emotions. 

“i’m so sorry, love,” you try to help, “so sorry,”

“it’s alright,” he shakes off, pulling away slightly to give you a kiss, “i just want to get out of here and go back to the hotel, but i have to stay,”

“hm,” you hum, attempting to think of something to help, “why don’t i head back early, i’ll order us some food, i’ll start a bath-”

“i love the sound of that,” carlos sighs, kissing you again, “i should be able to leave in about an hour,”

“okay, i’ll see you in an hour,” you peck him quickly, moving to grab your things from around the room. 

“thank you, cariño, i appreciate it,” 

“always, baby, always,” you smile at carlos, him smiling back and your mind finally quiets. the words and tweets disappear. your fears gone, your mind at ease, the only thing you can think is how much you love the man in front of you. and that’s all that matters. 

-

“i can’t do this any longer,” you cry to your friend, sophia, as she continues to rub your back, “it’s so fucking hard, i mean, i-i love him so much, but-”

“i know, honey, i know,” she speaks softly to you. after you had left early from the race, the fans got worse. calling you all sorts of names and terrible things because you ‘abandoned’ your boyfriend. you were going crazy. sophia had made you delete the socials off your phone, worried that your mental health would spiral even worse since you were constantly checking them. she was currently at your house, after you had called her in shambles, trying to make you feel better, “have you talked to carlos?”

“no,” you shake off in a sob, “i don’t want to keep bothering him with this,”

“y/n, he loves you,” grabbing you another tissue for you to wipe your eyes, she continues, “he’ll want to know what's bothering you and hurting you, you wouldn’t be burdening him,”

“i would be, soph,” you cry again, “i’ve bugged him about this so many times, he’s probably over it,”

“stop, y/n, he won’t be like that. he’ll want to know,”

“i don’t think i can do this anymore,”

“ugh good,” she laughs, “i was waiting for all this crying to finally give you a headache so we can get the alcohol started,”

“i’m not talking about my little pity party,” you’re serious tone causes her to stop laughing, realizing you weren’t joking around, “i’m talking about the relationship,”

“y/n…” she trails off, her eyes holding so much concern as they stare at you. 

“i’m serious, soph,” you shake your head, tears now drying, “all the love doesn’t outweigh the hurt,”

“don’t do this, y/n. not until you at least tell carlos how you feel,”

“tell carlos how you feel about what?” your boyfriend asks with a laugh as he walks into your home. his laughter dies down in seconds, noticing your puffy face and red eyes along with sophia’s solemn expression, “what’s going on?”

“that’s my queue to leave,” your friend stands up, gathering her things. she kisses you lightly on top of the head and whispers quietly, “call if you need anything,” you nod at her suggestion and watch her leave. she passes by carlos with a pat to the shoulder, and his confusion only grows stronger at the pity on her face as she looks at him. 

“y/n?” carlos questions, now moving towards where you were sitting on the couch, perching himself on the coffee table across from you.

“i can’t do this anymore,” you whisper out, your eyes meet his and immediately well up again. 

“what do you mean, y/n?” carlos pushes sternly, “you want to break up with me?”

“i’m sorry, carlos-”

“no, no,” he stops you, “no, we’re not breaking up,”

“carlos,” you sigh, your eyes wandering in the direction of his stuff you had packed into a box next to the couch.

“you’re serious?” he whispers out, “why?” he gets up and sits next to you, his eyes now tearing up the same as yours. 

“i just can’t do this,” you shake your head, fresh tears falling yet again, “i mean, i can’t do anything right in the eyes of your fans-”

“but you do everything right in my eyes,” he cuts you off to emphasize, “please, mi amor, don’t let them break us up because of a few comments-”

“it’s not ‘a few comments’ carlos,” now it’s your turn to cut him off with a sob, “it’s all of your fans, all of the time, and you’re fans are who you are-”

“okay, okay,” he wraps his arms around you, trying to control your crying as well as his own, “te entiendo, mi amor,” i understand

“lo siento, carlos, te quierdo mucho pero-” i’m sorry, carlos, i love you so much but-

“but what? but what, y/n? if you love me, please let’s try and work this out, porfa, cariño,” 

“i don’t know-”

“y/n, please. you could stop coming to races, o-or i could put out a statement or-”

“it won’t work-”

“it will, i promise you,” carlos begs, his hold on you only getting tighter, “give us one more chance, please,” you stared up at him, through the tears the both of you have shared, and see his pleading look. the eyes you see are the eyes that have brought you peace and quiet in the storm of hate. the eyes you love, the eyes that are worth it.

“bueno,” good you whisper, “one more chance,” carlos’ eyes light up and his smile appears wide and bright. 

“you won’t regret this, y/n, i promise you,” 

“i love you, carlos,” you give him a weak smile through the tears and his lips land on your forehead. 

“i love you so much, mi amor, so so much,” he whispers into your hair, “now can i please unpack that box it’s giving me anxiety,”

“yes,” you laugh out, standing up to grab it. he stops you curtly, pulling you back into him and grabbing your face in a kiss. you melt into it, and him, remembering why this has all been worth it. because of him.

-

it was three weeks later on a race day, and you had gotten bolder with your decisions. you were now strutting around the paddock, confident in how you looked or what you wore, and spoke to whoever, whenever. yours and carlos’ conversation had led to your idea that it shouldn’t matter what people say, as long as you both love each other. the deletion of your social medias had also been a large help to your personality adjustment and your newfound confidence. 

the race had finished and you were waiting for your boyfriend to finish up a few interviews before the both of you left together. as you waited off to the side you could slightly overhear the interviewer asking about the race, and then, then, they asked about you. 

“and what do you have to say about your girlfriend and her receiving so much hate the past few months?” 

“honestly it’s very rude and annoying,” carlos starts with a sigh, “what happens on the track can be talked about because you get all the information, but my personal life is private. what happens is between me and her, for it to be so loudly commented on with no information is insulting - especially that it comes from people who call themselves my fans,” 

you smile to yourself at him defending you, knowing that you made the right decision three weeks ago to give him another chance. 

“she’s a great person - beautiful, kind, funny, smart. if people would take the time to see that, they would see the fantastic person i see. bottom line is if you love and support me, you should also love and respect the people i love,”

you’re now grinning so wide you’re cheeks hurt, the confidence in you growing as much as your love for carlos. he was worth it. he would always be worth it. and the lack of hate directed towards you after his little speech would also be totally worth it.

-

[sooniebby]

Don’t ask how I thought of this… it’s trans male reader, no set character—imagine whoever you want. Bottom reader. Use of pussy, and other “feminine” words. This lowkey just self indulgent, so the reader isn’t fully transitioned 🫶🏼 don’t read if you get dysphoric easily.

You knew your friend did “sex work” on the side. And the reason why it wasn’t true “sex work” was because it was just him and his girlfriend recording themselves having sex and posting it onto Twitter.

It was just a kink for them, really, he never said anything about getting paid for it. But you remember them thinking about putting a paywall to see the full videos.

More power to them, or whatever. When you became roommates with said friend, him and his girlfriend made sure to record any videos when you were gone. Which was great.

It wasn’t until the two broke up, amicably actually, she just found out she was a lesbian—you thought his Twitter porn days were over now he didn’t have a partner. Since he didn’t like doing solo content

What you didn’t think was that he’d ask you to do something with him

“It’s just until I find someone else,” he said, nonchalantly.

“But it doesn’t give you money.”

“Oh we did make money off it. Not a lot, but decent money. Julie was gonna keep doing it with me just to keep some money but now she’s making lesbian content.”

“But girls! Wasn’t it straight porn?”

He shrugged. “It’s not like I’m straight… the viewers won’t care, pussy’s pussy!” He laughed until he saw your face. “Oh well if it makes you uncomfortable you don’t gotta do it. It is a strange request.” He moved to get up until you grabbed his hand.

“How much?”

“Huh?”

“How much do you earn from the videos?”

“Depends. The viewers love oral sex and teasing videos. Those usually get over… 2k—”

“—I’m in.”

“Seriously?”

“Cash is cash. They won’t be seeing my face right?”

“No. The focus,” he kneeled down close to you, “will be on down here.” His hand trailed against your crotch. “You just gotta lay there and be pretty, baby.”

No wonder the girls who ever dated him cried when they broke up. Who would willingly leave someone with a tongue like this?

You had told him there was no way you’d allow him to call you baby girl or anything of the sort which he happily agreed.

“Don’t worry. It won’t take long.”

“Wouldn’t want it to.” You muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed to be nude from the waist down in front of your friend. He smirked slightly grabbed his phone as he aimed it to film your crotch area.

“Don’t say that—not when you’ll end up begging for more.”

You didn’t even get to retort that as you felt his finger rub against your clit. Your breathing hitched as he was slow with his touch, teasing your outer lips. Down and up, small strokes, and a light push.

You could see why these videos got viewers—it was driving you crazy each time he teased your clit before pulling away. Your hips began flinching slightly, subconsciously trying to rub your pussy against the palm of his hand.

“Did I say you could do that?”

You instantly froze, dropping your hips right back down on the bed.

“Good boy.” He whispered, making sure the phone didn’t pick it up.

What the fuck?! That… that was for you alone, right? While you were reeling at how easily he could command you, you cried out feeling two fingers shove itself inside your hole.

His fingers moved fast, spreading you open. You didn’t even realize you weren’t hiding your whimpers as you tried to calm down from the sudden pleasure. Your legs twitched and spasmed, fingers digging into the bedsheets for some sort of stability.

But then he stopped. Just as fast as he started.

He ended the video and wiped his fingers against your thigh, smirking. “Alright, last video, then that’s it. You doing alright?”

“H…huh…?” You could only sputter out, reeling in shock.

“Starting video now.”

You glanced down, watching as he pulled out his cock from his sweatpants. Oh, he was.. a bit big. His cock flopped right against your pussy, causing you to shudder in response.

It wasn’t that you were a virgin… but fuck, you were embarrassingly excited to have his cock so close, just inches away from your hole.

“Condom?” You whispered

He didn’t answer, subtly shaking his head. You watched as he started the new video and placed his cock right against your pussy. You couldn’t look away, wanting to see if you could really take in something so thick and long.

But he didn’t.. push in?

With his free hand gripped tightly on your hips, he began rubbing his cock right against your pussy. You whimpered, biting your lip to try and keep your voice down.

You tried to rub against him but he held you down easily with his hand on your hips. It surprised you that he could do that with just one hand but you weren’t complaining.

“You want it, huh? Just look at it,” he moved the phone down to get a good look at your soaked pussy. “Never seen someone this wet for me. I’m flattered, baby.”

His hand released your hips and he suddenly stopped moving. You looked over to him, wondering why in god’s name he would stop. But all you saw was a shit eating grin. He wanted you to do the rest.

Any sort of self respect you had was gone. You just wanted to cum already.

You began to move your hips, rubbing your pussy against his cock. A few times, by pure luck, his cock threatened to push inside—but each time he’d fix his cock. Why would he let you get fucked?!

No matter, you reached down to begin rubbing your clit, needing some form of stimulation when he grabbed your wrist.

“I thought you were a good boy?” He asked, a false sense of sadness in his tone. “C’mon, be good for the camera.”

Once again, he made sure only you heard that. Why’d he keep doing? To rile you up? You’re already close anyway.

But then he stopped…? Again?!

“All done. Thanks again, man.” He patted your tummy and got up, pulling his pants over his cock. You wouldn’t deny that you felt your word shatter seeing it being covered by those stupid excuse of pants.

“That’s…?”

“I’ll send you your cut by the end of the week!”

He was leaving? After all that? He was just going to leave without fucking you? You quickly sat up on the bed and grabbed his arm, stopping him from leaving. He didn’t turn over to face you, keeping his gaze on his phone.

“Wait… that’s it..? N..nothing else?” You whispered breathlessly, needing release, quickly. And you didn’t want to rely on some plastic dildo when there was a real thing just a few inches away.

“Yeah. I just needed two videos for this month. Why?”

“I… I…”

“Begging for me?” He asked, cheekily, looking up to finally look at you. “C’mon, use your words. What do you want?”

“You know what I want.”

“Do I? Because if you don’t say it, I’ll do what I want with you.”

It didn’t take long for him to make you cum. As soon as his cock entered your pussy, you came. And then he really did what he wanted with you. You were too far gone to really think as it happened, but you were sure he took many pictures after, enjoying the sight of your cream filled pussy.

You certainly helped him again, and a few times after that…

Though… you’re starting to wonder…

You can’t find his and Julie’s twitter account…

And when you, embarrassingly, asked Julie—

She said they deleted the account when they broke up

Ooh. Spooky lol, what can I say? I love manipulative men…

Tag list: @flurrina @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @remdayz @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @iwishtobeacrow @smellwell @tomoeroi @tehyunnie @love-kha1 @star-3214 @rhetorical-conscience