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#Brazilian blow outs
007blonded · 7 months
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🩹FDA Bans Brazilian vs No-Lye RELAXERS for Black or Hispanics Women
🩹FDA Bans Brazilian vs No-Lye RELAXERS for Black or Hispanics Women
This video is for the natural hair community of hair braiders offering Brazilian Blow Outs or Blow Dry Bars offering hair smoothing and hair straightening services to the public. We all knew that the Cosmetology and Barber Boards 🚫were not regulating the Brazilian Blow Outs however this formaldehyde has been used in our kits and a multitude of other products in the cosmetology industry. So why…
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leclerdelune · 7 months
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eXCUSE mE?!
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brasiliangp · 6 months
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so what i remember about felipe podcast was that when he was asked if he preferred lewis or max, he did said verstappen but not in the way the anon made it sound like
if im not wrong he talked good things about the two related to their skills, but if he would choose personally it was m.v just because felipe joined his team in the 24h le mans and the experience was amazing
what i do remember properly was that drugo wasn’t 100% sure about all the love for brazil, he understood that a huge part could be true but he couldn’t stop thinking that a part is just media in a bad way
I really don't remember the details and I do remember the hosts annoying me so I don't feel like listening to it again but it was def not as bad as people were making it out to be
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dykementality · 1 year
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obviously if you watch a film about identity and feelings of displacement and being estranged from your home and past and expect to get a “lively gay romance” you will be disappointed thats not the movies fault lmao most insufferably gringo review of futuro beach ever
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bravosalonaz · 7 months
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BRAVO Salon: Affordable High-Quality Hair & Beauty Salon Tempe AZ
Elevate your style at Bravo Salon, the premier hair salon in Tempe, AZ. Discover expert stylists, personalized treatments, and a range of beauty services. Call us!
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prettygiri222 · 9 months
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Wax
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Summary: You tell your boyfriend you got waxed by a man…
Eren x Black Fem Reader SMUT
"Eren!" you called out as you entered his room. he looked up at you with his low red eyes making your heart skip a beat. you were already regretting your decision but you were going to power through. you gave him a little twirl, "notice anything different?"
you saw a trend on TikTok where girls would tell their boyfriends they got a wax done and you wanted to try it. you hesitated knowing Eren he could flip but your friends convinced you to do it.
Eren's eyes trailed over your body stopping at your ass that hung out of your miniskirt. "that ass getting fatter ma? shittt i've been feeding you good." he said as he licked his lips before making eye contact.
you turned around to look at it in the mirror. "i've been hitting the gym with Mikasa and Annie. i ain't even noticed the gains."
"cmere lemme touch it." Eren took a hit off his blunt motioning for you to come sit on his lap. if you didn't actually get a wax today you would've sat on something else. but it was now or never.
you walked over to Eren not missing the way his eyes watched as you purposely swayed your hips. "no, I got waxed." you said placing your foot on his lap.
"you’re so smooth." Eren started rubbing all up on your leg. "everywhere?" he asked as he trailed his hand up higher looking you in the eye.
"baby oil and cocoa butter, love." you said before giving him a nod. a smile graced Eren's lips as he pulled you down so you were straddling him.
"we can't do anything for at least 24 hrs…" you whined out onto his shoulder. "but that's not the point." you said as you shot up. you moved to the bed to create some space between you two, Eren rolled his eyes.
he picked up his phone but signaled to you that he was still listening.
"so I went to get a brazilian today and my regular lady wasn't there so they gave me someone else and honestly, i like them a bit more. they were getting all in there, like really in there and it didn't hurt as much. plus the guy was so ni-" Eren's head shot up.
"hold on ma, did you just say a 'guy?'" he put down his phone and looked into your wide eyes with his red ones. 
"y-yea he did a great job…" the wall behind Eren suddenly became very interesting to look at.
"nah, i don't think i'm hearing you right." Eren sat up in his chair with his jaw clenched. "a man waxed you?”
"yes."
"you let a man touch you down there? see you naked."
"it's his job Eren."
"nah you pissing me off right now ma. you let another man touch your pussy and you telling me you're fine with it?" eren moved so he could look deep into your eyes causing you to flinch. you could see his anger building up and it frightened you. 
he was always so quick to anger, especially around Jean, you can't say how many times they got physical. but he's never yelled at you much less put his hands on you but you didn't know what he would do now. he was unsettlingly quiet. you only nodded afraid you would get on your knees and beg him for forgiveness but a small part of you wanted to push him even further.
Eren surprised you as he started laughing, he rubbed his tattooed hand all over his face looking at you through his fingers. "you expect me to believe you let a man wax when you still get so shy when I say 'pussy'."
you looked away from him, if your skin was any lighter he would've been able to see you blush. "well he said I had the prettiest 'pussy' he ever saw. gave me his number to hit him up if my boyfriend didn't satisfy me enough." you were shy but you weren’t a pushover.
Eren took a big hit off his blunt before blowing the smoke in your face."ass up, face down ma." you quickly regretted your words.
"Eren wait-"
“ass up. face down. now!" Eren's never talked to you like that, he was always so sweet and nice to you. but right now he was so demanding, it was kinda hot. 
you quickly moved to position, making sure your back had a nice arch in it before looking back at Eren with a pout. "Eren we can't…"
"mmhm." he mumbled ignoring your eyes. he pushed up your skirt and delivered a slap to your clothed heat.
"Eren!" you cried out in shock, you shoved your face into the sheets in embarrassment. you've never done this before. you and Eren were vanilla so far because you were a virgin up till a few weeks ago. this was something new and you kinda liked it.
"head up ma, you had a lot to say right? said you'd fuck your waxer cause i wasn't good enough?" he said grabbing your butterfly locs. they were about a week old so they weren't as tight but his grip still hurt. but you were coming to understand that you liked a little bit of pain. "lemme hear it."
eren planted a firm slap against your ass. "ah! It hurts!” Eren gave you another hard slap causing you to jerk forward. you heard him kiss his teeth before you were pulled down to the end of the bed.
“this not gon work.” he said as he maneuvered you so you were bent over his lap. “you keep lying to me, ‘s like you trying to get me mad on purpose ma. you like it when I’m angry?” Eren asked as he delivered another slap to your bare ass. your dark skin was starting to bruise.
how’d he know? you weren’t that bad of a liar. “i was the one who set up and paid for your appointments ma, they would’ve told me if there was a change.” oh, right. you brought your hands to cover your face in embarrassment. 
“m sorry” you whispered.
“if you really got waxed by a man, i can’t tell you what would’ve happened.” Eren let out a bitter laugh looking at his dresser. it brought your attention to the gun Eren kept tucked in his pants when he went out. he always placed it in his top draw when he came home not wanting you to see it but you knew about it. it made you shiver thinking about him using it on someone. “but don’t worry you’ll be sorry. count to 10.”
“10 wha- ow!” Eren raised his hand high and brought it down on your ass making you jump. you reached back to grab his hand but he just slapped it away
“you run, lose count or complain and you start over from one.” he spanked you again watching as your ass rippled. you let out whine, you weren’t used to Eren being so mean to you but you were soaked. each slap sent a new wave of tingles to your core. 
“how many are we at now baby?” Eren asked in that sweet voice he always spoke to you in. 
“9.” you sobbed out. you don’t even know when you started crying and whether it was from the pain or the neglect of your core.
“think you can take one more?” despite being so mad at you it made your heart swell at how nice he was still being. he messaged your ass while waiting for the answer.
“yea…” he delivered one more slap but he directed it toward your clothed heat, fingers coming in contact with your clit, “ohhh fuckkk!” your body started to convulse as you felt pure bliss.
“fuck ma… did you just come from me spanking you?” Eren breathlessly asked as he placed you beside him, you winced at the contact. you nodded as you hid your face in his shoulder. “that’s my good girl.”
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planetsano · 4 months
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fem reader. both reader and yuji get zero bitches. waxing.
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I was having thoughts about Yuji getting his first wax at this really cute spa— its the new year so he’s really trying to make the effort of taking this whole “self care” thing he’s been seeing on TikTok seriously. He seems like the type to be pretty hairy down south anyway and in turn he trims it here and there but he never really upkeeps the maintenance. He wants to see what this waxing thing is all about.
So, he books the appointment and he gets you as his esthetician. He’s nervous! But also very excited! He booked a facial as well as the wax so you of course take very good care of him. The conversation is flowing beautifully and there’s a bit of chemistry there. He also thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous and when he walked into the studio, he tripped over his shoelace but that’s neither here or there.
When it’s finally time for the wax? You’re prepping everything all nice and instruct him to take off his pants and boxers— and Yuji immediately freezes. He’s all like “What do you mean?” so you look at him from over your shoulder because you think he’s being silly but the look of genuine confusion on his face lets you know he’s being deadass serious. You tell him, “Well, I can’t wax you with your pants on now can I, cutie?” as sweet as can be, its almost a little maternal too the way you say it.
Poor Yuji. He didn’t really think about any of this fully through. He mentally punches himself in the face because of course he would have to expose himself to the esthetician, that’s just how a Brazilian wax works! Yuji doesn’t want to make it awkward so he complies and takes off his pants and underwear before he lays back onto the table. God, he’s never felt so embarrassed in his life! Is the lamp really necessary..? The warmth of it did feel pretty nice. That’s beside the point anyway.
As he’s laying there while you dilly about with your back turned to him, his mind starts to wander. When was the last time he’s had a woman’s touch? It feels like ages because it kind of has. A year? Almost close to a year. He can’t really remember. Yuji thinks you’re pretty and a good time— you’re easy to talk to and if he didn’t know any better, he thinks he might have a tiny, little crush on you. He’s already been thinking about booking another service just so he can see you.
The thought is super cute, but what isn’t cute is Yuji fighting every single demon, every single thought— nearly trying to astral project so he won’t get hard. You didn’t give him a warning before wrapping your gloved hand around his shaft and he jumped, which did get a giggle and a little “Feeling jumpy today, are we?” out of you. He played it off with a bashful little “Sorry.” before relaxing again. You’re not really doing much but your job and that’s why he feels like such a pervert when all the blood from his skull has rushed to his cock.
For him, it’s like this huge elephant in the room but for you? You don’t mind, there’s always a possibility which is why you don’t take male clients but Yuji is the only exception because he’s cute and seems like a good boy. He probably thinks that he has a poker face but there’s a reason why you keep cooing at him because he’s definitely the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. It’s so desperately obvious that he’s trying to think about the most unpleasant and uncomfortable things but it’s not working.
As the service continues, Yuji is not longer trying to keep from stay hard but he’s now rather trying not to cum all over your hands and his chest. But it’s becoming increasingly difficult to do so. He peeks down every now and again to see the progress, he keeps telling himself “She’s almost done, she’s almost done.” that he needs to hold out for just a few minutes more then he can put his pants back on. But, unfortunately it doesn’t seem to work out like he would have hoped to plan.
Your hand slid up his cock with just enough pressure and friction to make him blow his, really fat load actually. He desperately tried to grab your wrist before it happened but it was already too late, the broken protest turned into a pitiful moan halfway, the panicked jerk of his body.. truth be told you thought it was sweet. You’ve also been going through a dry spell yourself. Your last ex made you want to do some healing but with that came with stepping out of the dating pool and no casual sex.
You, yourself felt like a bit of a pervert standing here with a man putty in your fingertips. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” was all that left his lips as you cleaned him with with a Kleenex but all you could say in return was:
“Can I..? Have your number?”
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sugume · 3 months
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You telling your (boyfriend/ex/crush/dilf/whatever) JJK men that you got waxed by a man…
ANOTHER MAN WAXED YOU PRANK – JUJUSTU KASIEN
( CW ) f!reader. vulgar language. fluff
FEATURING: Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Nanami Kento
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☾ GOJO SATORU 
“How was your appointment babe?” Satoru asks when he feels you come up behind him. You wrap your arms around his middle and smile into his back. “It was good, I think I'm getting used to it because it’s starting to hurt less.” You tell him. Satoru turns around and pouts down at you. “I can’t believe I gotta wait twenty-four hours to see it. It’s not fair.’ He huffs, pulling your body closer to him. “Remember what happened last time we didn’t wait, Satoru? But I think that was the waxers' fault, I had a new one today and he was so gentle—” “He?” He stares down at you confused. “Yes, he, men can be waxers too. Anyways, he was so gentle when he took the wax off. He always left his hand pressed down longer to soothe the skin.” Your boyfriend stares at you incredulously, stepping out of your embrace. “This was a pussy appointment, right?” “A Brazilian wax, Satoru.” You roll your eyes, trying your hardest not to laugh. “Another man waxed our pussy? Babe, are you serious right now? What was his name? You said he lingered too, what the hell!” Satoru screeches, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning at you. “Babe it isn't that serious, he only accidentally rubbed my clit 4 times!” You try and wrap your arms back around him. Satoru steps back with a look of shock. Just as he opens his mouth to shout you cut him off. “Wait, wait babe it’s just a prank! I’m just kidding! Look the phone is recording over there!” You laugh, pulling at Satoru's folded arms. He looks at the camera in shock. “How dare you!” 
☾ TOJI FUSHIGURO 
“I feel so smooth Toji, you don’t even know.” You tell your boyfriend as you rub your arms. “Oh yeah?” He grins, hands coming down to rub your bare, freshly waxed thighs. “Mhm! My waxer, the one I usually go to was holding a class—” “What did they all get wax a little strip off your hairy thighs?” He laughs at whatever image he imagines in his head. You slap his chest. “Shut up Toji! The class only had two people, and since she knows I’m not uncomfortable with nudity she asked me to demonstrate the brazilin wax to them,” You look up at Toji and smile at him. “So, they got to try it out, the dude was really good—” “Dude?” He scrunched up his eyebrows. “Yeah, he was really good at soothing the pain, he held his hand down really firm and stuff. “A brazilin wax is the legs and arms?” “No, it's the vagina.” He glares at you. “Are you joking?” You blink up at him innocently. “No why would I be?” “Oh, don’t joke with be y/n, you just fuckin’ said a man was waxing you down there and that he was firm and soothing. The only man that should be ‘firm and soothing’ down there, is me.’ He pinches your cheek. “But I know you’re lyin’; you have the worst poker face.” “You’re no fun!” 
☾ NANAMI KENTO 
You set your phone against a vase before face-timing your boyfriend. He answers on the second ring, already waiting for your call. “Hi, sweetheart.” “Hey babe, sorry I couldn't call earlier, my appointment got pushed back a bit.” You tell Kento as he holds the phone close to his face. “That's fine baby, tell me how was it? They were good to you?” “Yeah, but my waxer canceled, and I had to get another person. He was good thought, nice and gentle.” You watch Kento’s face for any reaction, but he nods and smiles. “That’s good, you used my card, right?” He asks. “Yeah, I did. Did you hear me when I said the waxer was some dude?” “Yes, what about it?” He questions staring at you through the screen. “Oh, nothin’ I just wanted to tell you he had this new way of waxing. He would take a strip off and then get real close and blow air on me.” Nanami frowns. “What? Is that even allowed? How close did he get?” “Apparently everyone's starting to do it, but he accidentally got a bit too close and his lips made contact a few times.” “What the hell?” Nanami jumps up. “What was his name? A few times? Thats unacceptable. Send me the address of the shop.” Kento grabs his coat. “Wait it’s just a prank Ken! I’m kidding, there was no man!” Nanami stares down at the phone in his hand for several seconds before sitting back down and groaning. “That was not one of your bests, sweetheart.” 
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ohimsummer · 4 months
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✎ . . .❝ PICK UP, DAMMIT. ❞
— suggestive beginning (it's not what you think), jealous satosugu if u squint, shoko x reader (?), poly! satosugu verse, thinking about calling her sho..........constantly
⭑ ࣪ ˖ sum’z notes.ᐟ i bought a wax kit recently and it was the worst pain just ever, kms
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“O-ow, fuck!”
“Shoko, please, not so har- ah!”
“Do you need me to go slower?,” she asks with hints of a mocking tone.
“…No, it's fine. Just stop pulling them so hard, I can't take it.”
"Aw, come on. I could be much rougher than this, ya know?"
"Sho, cut it out!"
She laughs as you suck in a deep breath, giving her a look that says you’re ready, and Shoko yanks upwards in one swift motion. Yelps fill the air, loud and a lot, like you’re a kicked dog. The pain eases when you slap a palm over the skin, soothing the burn. Shoko pats your head to console you, though the way she looks into your eyes is also a little patronizing, teasing. Your phone buzzes nearby.
“Only a little more to go, ya ready?”
“Shit, I guess.” You roll the joint of your arm to reduce the soreness in your shoulder. This was taking a lot longer than you’d planned.
“Alright, I’ll count down this time.” Taking hold of the wax strip, Shoko catches your gaze before speaking. “3…2…” You inhale and brace yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. “1!”
Another cry as she yanks the remaining wax away from your armpit, setting it down on your leg and placing a gentle hand on the burning skin. Your head falls back as relief floods your system. A deep sigh frees itself from your lungs.
“Finally.” You blow out a breath, traces of a whistle come out with it. “That shit hurt.”
“I told you it was gonna be bad. But nooo,” Shoko rolls her eyes as she coats your armpit in the after-wax spray. “Big, bad y/n didn’t wanna listen to little ol’ me.”
“Shut up.” You elbow her in the side. Your phone buzzes again, and there’s a knock on the door before Shoko can comment on it.
“Is that them?,” she asks. “Damn, did they run over here?”
You pick up your phone and read the pile of texts, mostly from Gojo, that they sent after your last reply.
sugar🫶🏾: ???
pretty boy!!💙: WTF
pretty boy!!💙: NO WAY IN HELL
pretty boy!!💙: WE CAN DO A WAY BETTER JOB
sugar🫶🏾
missed facetime video call
sugar🫶🏾: y/n r u being serious rn…?
pretty boy!!💙: SHE BETTER NOT BE
(After you never answered)
4 missed calls from pretty boy!!💙 1 missed call from sugar🫶🏾
pretty boy!!💙: PICK UP DAMMIT
pretty boy!!💙: BABY YOU CAN’T LEAVE US HANGING LIKE THIS
sugar🫶🏾: im coming over
pretty boy!!💙: ME TOO
Shoko giggles at the texts over your shoulder, both of you ignoring the rapid knocking at your door. “Why are they so worried, did they want to help you try out your new kit that bad?”
A smile spreads on your face. “I told them you were giving me a Brazilian.”
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tagz: @anthoosies @staryukis @mysugu
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007blonded · 7 months
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🩹FDA Bans Brazilian vs No-Lye RELAXERS for Black or Hispanics Women
🩹FDA Bans Brazilian vs No-Lye RELAXERS for Black or Hispanics Women
This video is for the natural hair community of hair braiders offering Brazilian Blow Outs or Blow Dry Bars offering hair smoothing and hair straightening services to the public. We all knew that the Cosmetology and Barber Boards 🚫were not regulating the Brazilian Blow Outs however this formaldehyde has been used in our kits and a multitude of other products in the cosmetology industry. So why…
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astonmartinii · 1 year
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Hey, I love your work. Could you please do a social Media au with Lewis Hamilton x senna! reader who is the secret daughter of Ayrton Senna and Mick's godmother and Mick introduces them? Don't feel pressured and thank you in advance.
<3
top secret | lewis hamilton social media au
pairing: senna!reader x lewis hamilton
turns out mick is the grid's biggest matchmaker
mickschumacher
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liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 404,331 others
mickschumacher: summer dinners (not cooked by me)
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username so is this a soft launch or ???
georgerussell63 it's a good thing you weren't cooking i've seen your skills in hospitality
mickschumacher don't worry she'd never let me blow the house up
username no tag, no name WHY ARE WE SO SECRETIVE MICK?
lewishamilton where was my invite then ?
mickschumacher you already steal her all the time let me have my moment
username WAIT THIS MAKES IT SO MUCH MORE CONFUSING
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f1wagsupdates
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liked by 1,045 others
f1wagsupdates: the mystery blonde is back again, this time spotted going into the mercedes hospitality. not much is known about her as she wasn't spotted for the rest of the weekend - so is she with mick or lewis or just friends with both of them?
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username so like she didn't actually stay for the race ??? i'm smelling a gold digger
username like how do we not know who she is it's practically impossible to be anonymous these days
username who can just waltz into merc hospitality like she has to be with someone, right?
username y'all can continue yelling in these comments but like she's serving in all of these like i need her wardrobe
username i mean as much as i would hate to see slag!lewis go ... i think it is time
lewishamilton added to their story
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[caption: the view is something else]
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yourusername
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liked by lewishamilton, mickschumacher and 779,445 others
yourusername: i'm hearing shouts of gold digger, my daddy ran your sport ;)
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username SENNA HAD A KID ???
username y'all been calling senna's daughter a gold digger that's rough
username so wait how did we never know she existed ?
mickschumacher finally it's out i couldn't deal with people thinking i was dating my godmother
ginaschumacher we may have a ranch but we're not from alabama
yourusername citizens of alabama out here catching strays
lewishamilton lovely lady
yourusername knew there was a reason you were made an honorary brazilian citizen
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lewishamilton
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liked by mickschumacher, georgerussell63 and 1,223,761 others
tagged: yourusername
lewishamilton: and suddenly everything made sense when i met you
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username my guy said i'm gonna break senna's records and then bag his daughter and i respect it
yourusername you made me realise the meaning of forever
lewishamilton biggest honour of my life
username okay this is so fucking cute im gonna need someone to confess their love to me asap
georgerussell63 congrats you two 🥂
mercedesamgf1 category is SLAY
username i'm being SO CHILL ABOUT THIS
f1 no biggie just two of the greatest families in f1 coming together
yourusername
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liked by f1, lewishamilton and 1,304,667 others
yourusername: happy father's day pops !! i miss you so much everyday but i know you're super proud of me no matter what. see you soon xx
comments have been restricted on this post
lewishamilton
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liked by yourusername, mickschumacher and 2,130,653 others
lewishamilton: happy father's day to my wonderful dad and the one who i never met but am thankful for everyday. my dad has been nothing but supportive of me my whole life and i am forever grateful to him. ayrton, though we never met i feel you everyday and i promise i will be the best husband possible for your angel of daughter
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username this is all very touching but HUSBAND
yourusername thank you so much lew, i love you so much and i know he does too (also i love your dad too)
lewishamilton can't get rid of us now
username this is honestly like a fairytale
username the fact she said in an interview that she never wanted to watch or go to another race because of what the sport took from her, but now regularly goes to support lewis 😭
mickschumacher hey don't forget about her favourite god son
username OMG THIS MAKES LEWIS MICK'S GODFATHER WTF
mickschumacher
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liked by mercedesamgf1, charles_leclerc and 880,276 others
tagged: yourusername, lewishamilton
mickschumacher: adding professional matchmaker to my resume
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username so like the first born is named after him ?
mickschumacher deal
yourusername mick ???
username this is a trio i never thought i'd see coming schumachers, hamiltons and a senna in one family
yourusername all jokes aside i love you mick thank you for wingmanning me
lewishamilton thank you for finally giving me her number after asking about a billion times
note: i hope this is what you were thinking - i had so much fun writing this !! xx
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lil-quinnie · 3 months
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Pity party
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part I
Warning +18 smut, jealous Eddie
Summary college au After Eddie kissed the girl in front of you, you decide you NEED to move on.
F!boy Eddie x Plus size reader
a/n: Hi guys, sorry for the delay in posting part 2. I was very insecure about the story and this year I started working as a full time teacher so time is also very limited, anyway. Sorry for any typo or mistake, i'm brazilian god danmitt. I hope you like it <3
-
The return to your dorm was humiliating, you tried to explain everything that had happened amid sobs and inaudible words, Steve tried to support most of your weight in his arms as he guided you safely to your room. The boy tried to comfort you the whole way, even though he knew what his best friend had done would be difficult to reverse.
With the promise of a call he left the room and disappeared down the crowded halls of the girls' dormitory.
11am
you woke up to an excited call from Robin and Steve, talking about a party that was going to happen that night and how it would be the perfect opportunity for you to try to get a certain metalhead out of your head.
"so, there will be this band and I'm sure one of the members will be your type...I promise" Steve said without thinking, receiving an elbow in the ribs from his best friend "dingus" Robin said rolling her eyes "We pick you up at 8?" the girl asked hopefully.
Even though you didn't want to interact with a lot of people, you agreed that staying in bed wouldn't solve your problem. "Yeah, okay, I'll be ready at 8, bye, see you guys"
-
19pm
One last check in the mirror before hearing Steve's horn followed by Robin's loud laughter. 
You could already see the number of people in the frat garden, indicating that the party was packed. "It's harder to find him this way" you thought , at the same time Steve squeezed your leg, checking if everything was ok.
The blue lights of the crowded living room hurt your eyes, the cigarette smoke turned into fog on the floor of the house, making those lights refract 10 times stronger back at your eyes. Nancy already had a drink for you in her hand because Robin had already told her everything, welcoming you with a smile and a hug as always. 
When she let you go, the girl said just so you could hear "Eddie is looking for you”, causing you to pour the cheap liquid from the cup down your throat in one go.
-
On the other side of the house, the metalhead was negotiating his sales, even though it was a good day and he had sold almost everything he had brought, Eddie couldn't change the uncomfortable expression on his face. 
His mind always brought back the vision of you and Steve hugging, or holding hands, hell even your schedule Steve knew and he didn't, the green bug of jealousy spent all day on his shoulder, blowing fears into his ear that he had been trying to keep away for decades.
Eddie was hustling around the party, looking for potential clients and for you. He saw Robin at the party so of course you were here too.
Some people stopped him to talk, some girls offering themselves as payment (it was no longer new to him), others trying to flirt without it being so obvious, a normal night if you were Eddie Munson.
While finishing a sale he heard your laugh, causing him to turn his entire body towards the origin of the sound, "Fuck" he thought.
Your cleavage revealed the soft mounds of your breasts, making his face burn with jealousy at the thought of anyone else being able to see what should be just his. “Harrington, of course,” he huffed as he put the crumpled bills in his pocket watching Steve making you laugh. 
Eddie's eyes were shining in a purple light, never leaving your face, moving from your cleavage to your eyes and your lips, the tip of his tongue insisted on leaving his pink lip moist and shining, delicious it looked.
Eddie didn't understand what was happening, why his heart raced every time you smiled at someone else or why there was a knot in his stomach every time Steve pulled you closer, or touched your thigh while telling you a story as if you were his, but you weren't, right?
Steve excused himself from a ‘lil crown and threw himself on the old sofa next to you "hi" he said, you responded in the same tone with a shy smile, looking at each other for a while, it could be alcohol or even joints but damn! Steve was really handsome and you’re pretty sure he thinks the same about you.
Soon everybody went to fill their glasses or smoke outside, except Robin who danced with Vickie as if she didn't have early classes tomorrow, leaving you and Steve in your own bubble.
What made Eddie most angry was the fact that you seemed so comfortable with Steve, in the way he couldn't make you feel, he thought. Eddie could never make you stay close to him among a lot of people, you always found an excuse to go to the dorm or any empty place while with Steve... "fucking hell" he exclaimed, while passing the bag with the customer's product. 
Eddie needed something stronger than weed if he wanted to swallow all of his wounded ego to get to you, and he couldn't do it dry. He poured the glass full of whiskey and downed it in two sips, letting a few drops of the golden liquid run down the corner of his mouth wiping it with the back of his hand, determined not to let anything pave the way to you.
You couldn't help the smile that widened every time he got closer. The rosy cheeks showed that Eddie had been drinking, a few curls of hair coming out of his low bun and that smile of someone who wants to be confident even though they're scared... 
How could you be mad at him? how you could cut him out of your life while he gave you that half smile he only gave when he was embarrassed, which was rare for a guy like him.
When Steve's fingers intertwined with yours, Eddie decided he had had enough of that and with his double shot of whiskey, he swallowed all his pride to go talk to you.
His hands in his jacket pocket only showed how uncomfortable he was, even more so after the disaster that happened last night, but he would never forgive himself if he didn't at least try to talk to you again before the night ended. 
On the other side, you and Steve didn't notice as the metalhead approached, still lost in your own world, exchanging too many small caresses and smiles.
He could hear your voice clearly, he even swore he could already smell the moisturizer that covered your skin, so close that he could feel you under his fingerprints.
He cleared his throat trying to get the attention of the two sitting on the sofa, when he realized that he was unsuccessful, he kicked Steve's Nike, who quickly turned his head, letting a HA! to escape from his lips going together with his hands clapping in the air "Munson" he smiled sarcastically, "Harrington" Eddie raised his browns and then turned around for you "can we talk?"
"I don't know, can we?" you said, getting up from the sofa and pulling Steve with you, who protectively wrapped his arm around your waist, hugging you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder, "I have nothing to talk to you right now, Eddie", you said while broking away from Steve's hug, signaling him to lead the way away from there.
"Please, let me talk to you", but before he could hold you, you turned and snapped 
"Isn't there anyone to save you again Eddie? That's why you're coming after me?",
Steve was amused by the situation, it wasn't often that he managed to get under Eddie's skin, so he planned to enjoy it.
"Follow my lead" he said with that smirk on his face.
Steve started to dance with you innocently but noticing the other man's gaze, he decided to be bold.. He had your back pressed against his hairy chest as you danced together to the beat of the music. 
One of his hands held your hips against his crotch, while the other danced down your body side, stopping at your hip and pulling you closer against the tent that was beginning to form in the boy's tight jeans.
Eddie watched everything from the other side of the room, his eyes following every slow movement your body made, burning holes in the uncovered skin of your cleavage. 
Every time Steve pressed his body against yours, Eddie looked away and sawed his fists, causing Steve to proudly smile.
Steve's eyes were locked with eddies while his mouth timidly explored the skin of your shoulder and neck, causing goosebumps that only a metalhead had caused to this day, when he realized that you didn't stop him, he was braver, leaving love bites on the exposed skin. 
Eddie noticed when your thighs pressed together, tighter every time Steve's mouth came close to yours. 
Eddie's heart missed the beat, it felt like hours of torture having to watch you like that with someone else, with his best friend on top of that.
Even though you understood the game Steve was playing, you decided to let yourself go and enjoy the little attention you rarely received. Seeing Eddie's reaction, watching each micro expression that appeared on his face was satisfying, with his knurled eyebrows and wrinkled nose you know that he was feeling the same thing you felt when he did the same in front of you.
"I need to go to the bathroom, angel. Do you want me to fill your cup?" Steve whispered in your ear and you just nodded, letting Steve go with a smile.
This was Eddie's chance to talk to you once and for all, and he no longer had the patience to put up with you being a brat. 
He knew that you would go outside, that you would light a cigarette and that you would wait for Harrington until he arrived with another alcohol bomb, he also knew that if he didn't do anything, he would lose you forever.
The mild temperature due to the late hour of the morning itched your exposed skin, causing goosebumps while you unsuccessfully tried to light your cigarette, too frustrated with everything around you to really pay attention to your surroundings.
“Here” you heard a husky voice coming from near the pool house “let me help you”.
The man approached slowly, the darkness using her cloak to cover your lover's face, only making you realize it was him, by fate's trap, when it was too late.
“I’m good, Edward. Thank you very much” you replied,
"What the hell is all that? What the fuck did I do to make you like this, Huh?” Eddie held your arms tightly, forcing you to look at him, you saw the anxiety and confusion that showed in his eyes, which caused an immeasurable pleasure to ignite in the pit of your stomach as you pressed his buttons more and more.
"What do you think I am Eddie? Just a toy when you don't have one of those dumb girls to fuck?" you spat at him with no mercy "and what do you think you are for him right now?" he said dryly,  "More than I ever was to you, right?"  he looks… hurt.
“Are you even listening to yourself? you’re sounding delusional.” he said letting your arm go.
“Oh! Poor Munson, where's Heather? giving a blowjob to some basketball player before ending up in your bed?" you cringed at the words that should have stayed in your head, giving up on the cigarette and making your way out the conversation.
“WOW!! Who stuck a stick up your ass, cutie? Was it Stevie?” He whispered in your ear, making you pull your arm free from Eddie's grip, leaving the mark of your five fingers on the boy's rosy cheek.
“Ed… I.. I'm" 
"Shut up, just shut the heck up ok?! I'm done with you” he said harshly, making you scared and before  you could say something, apologize or anything, Eddie was pulling you inside the pool house. 
You could feel the beats of the muffled music on the cold wall that Eddie pressed your body against. 
"Eddie, I'm sorry" you pleaded, almost begging, he pinch the bridge of his nose shaking his head in disbelief “let’s talk, please” you pleaded one more time.
"Of course sweetheart, NOW you wanna talk.” he gave you some space, sitting across the room, “just tell me why you're treating me like shit and I'll leave you, forever even.”
"Eddie, you... you” you tried to explain to him but the words just went away.
“I’m what babe? tell me what I did” his voice was almost failing. 
“You kissed her in front of me" you said through sobs “she said horrible things about me…and you did nothing about it” your tears betrayed you, rolling through your pale face, Eddie could see how big the fleek was on your poor heart.
The muffled sound of the party was the only thing that echoed inside that room, that and the heavy breathing of the man who stared at you, as if he had discovered some absurd secret.
“I went after you, I screamed your name several times through those damn corridors…I know you heard me” you could feel the sad tone behind the guy's bad boy pose.
He moved closer to you, entering your space, his contorted face reflected how painful the memory was. “and I found you, oh boy i found you! In the arms of MY best friend” he returned to the opposite side of the room and continued in silence, lighting his cigarette, the orange light from the lighter flame making Eddie's teary eyes shine in the darkness of the pool room.
“Eddie…what are you talking about?” You said with your voice still shaking, not paying much attention to what was said but to your best friend's sad eyes, “YOU kissed another girl in front of me, after we had sex! you asshole.”
Eddie stood up once again this time angrily shouting back at you “I DIDN’T FUCKING KISS HER”.
His hands caged you against the wall, against his body. He looked straight into your face, with his breathing still labored he whispered “and we didn't have sex”.
He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear, the tension could be cut with a knife. His eyes traveled between your eyes and your lips, waiting for a minute of weakness, any sign from you so he could have you the way he'd been wanting since the night you ran away from his dorm. 
Your hands shyly touched Eddie's face, bringing the boy's attention to stillness. You held his face firmly and still so unsure “I'm sorry Eds” you said running your fingers over the welts that marked his cheek.
Eddie pressed your bodies closer and held your hand against his cheek, taking advantage of the gap to connect your lips. The kiss started lightly, Eddie enjoyed every crumb you gave him, his tongue explored your mouth hungrily, trying to feel all your flavor, his thin fingers pressed the flesh of your waist, roaming freely over your abdomen, making your legs go limp “Eddie…” you sighed.
"what?" He said, moving his lips down your neck, following the same path that Steve had taken earlier, leaving bigger marks on your skin. He wanted everyone to know that you were his and no one else’s. 
He kissed your shoulder as he ran his hand up your thigh, past the hem of your skirt.
Noticing the lack of response, it's clear that teasing you was the boy's only option. “Did the cat get your tongue, sweetie?” His hands slowly felt your hips at the same time he pushed your legs apart with his knee and forced his leg between yours. He could feel how hot your pussy was from the heat that passed through his thigh “you seemed pretty brave when you were rubbing your ass against Stevie” he pressed his knee against your most sensitive part, gently brushing against your clit.
“I already told you Eddie, Steve and I are just friends” you said again, trying your best not to straddle your best friend’s thigh.
The boy finished taking off your shirt, exploring your breasts as he had done several other times. Eddie pinched and pulled your nipples, making the man feel you wet through your panties. He laughed in a mocking tone “look at you, you barely got off my best friend and you’re already here, all wet for me” his hands forced your movements, making you slowly ride his thigh “I saw your thighs pressing together, you know?” he said, increasing the intensity of the pace at which he guided you.
“Do you like being treated like a slut?” Eddie said taking you off his lap, in one movement he turned you around, face pressed against the old window covered in graffiti, it was too blurry to see you inside but depending on the angle you could see the people outside. “Did you like the feel of Steve’s dick rubbing against your ass?” he said as he pressed his own erection against you, making sure you felt every inch of him against the soft skin of your ass. “I know you liked it baby, there’s no need to be embarrassed” he patronizes you more and more.
With the panties around your ankle, Eddie adjusted your hips the way he wanted, brushing your entire pussy with the pink head of his cock.
"Are you sure?" he asked, without any malice or malice tone, you were already drunk on cock, just nodding your consent. “Words darling, use your words” “please Eddie, I need you” his voice came out more shrill than you wanted, showing his desperation.
In just one thrust, Eddie's entire cock slowly entered your tight pussy, “fuck…so thick” you moaned, not knowing if it was pain or pleasure, receiving sweet prayers from the man who filled you “shh…I know darling, It will soon be so delicious, I promise you” or “good girl, taking it all”, his words made you increasingly wet, making his back and forth movements easier.
“Fuck Eddie, more...I need more, please” you leaned against the window frame, managing to see Steve's confused features through the graffiti window, as he looked for you around the pool, not going unnoticed by Eddie either.
The man pushed into you harder and harder, your hands holding tight on the old wood making it shake. “Hmm… fucking tight, darling” he continued to fuck you, with one hand on your waist holding you in the position he needed and the other tangled in your hair, forcing you to look out the window, to look Steve.
"Eddie please" you begged, he could feel the adrenaline making his voice lower a few tones, every time Steve's eyes passed over you, Eddie could feel your pussy throb and squeeze his dick. “Make me cum Eds, please” you almost cried.
The large hand that held your head against the window ran down your entire body to where you needed it most. He fucked your pussy, changing the angle to hit your sweet spot while slowly massaging your citrices circularly, eliciting from you the most maddening moans Eddie had ever heard... "oh... Eddie I'm going to cum, fuck I'm going to cum " "fuck that pussy, please eddie" "Fill me, I want to feel you filling me Eddie", and Steve.
With his gaze fixed on his best friend, Eddie filled your pussy with his cum, not stopping pumping until the last drop of cum entered you. He helped you straighten up, bringing your back against his covered chest.
He kissed his neck while whispering how hot you were and how you were his and only his, leaving your breasts exposed against the window. His malicious smile began to make you suspicious of the boy's true intentions.
After a few minutes of recovering, you decided to get dressed again. Her panties on one side, her t-shirt rolled up on the floor and her skirt hanging from the window.
Your fingers pulled at the fabric of your skirt, revealing a large hole in the window where Steve stared at you and Eddie, while squeezing his erection through his pants. The boy's pink cheeks didn't bring you clarity, was that shame or lust?
Eddie’s hands went around you in a hug, resting his head on your shoulder “I told you he had a crush on you,” he kissed your cheek before walking away, opening the little door to the pool house “oh! Yeah and I'm sorry, I was really jealous." leaving you high and dry watching him go after his friend.
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emjayewrites · 25 days
Text
Fuck A Title (Lewis Hamilton x Black!Fem Reader) (1/5)
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SYNOPSIS: Lewis and his former FWB try to navigate the murky waters of being official.
PAIRINGS: Lewis Hamilton x black!fem reader
WARNINGS: cursing, sexual content, angst, racing vroom vroom stuff. RATED R (minors DNI/18+)
SONG REFERENCE: "Title" by Kiana Lede
TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @mauvecherie-writes @a-moment-captured @yeea-nah @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @omgsuperstarg @certifiedlesbianbaddie @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @motheroffae @hrlzy @sinflowersugar @hopefulromantic1 @vile-harlot @xoscar03 @blveeeeee @everywherea11thetime @blckgrl-sunflower @whoreforjjk @blowmymbackout
A/N: Not back fr, but had this in my drafts for a minute, so..... [Please comment & reblog]
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You sucked in a sharp breath as Lewis pulled you flush against his rock-hard body, his intoxicating male musk enveloping her. "Damn, Lew..." you husked out as his full lips trailed searing kisses along your neck.
Lewis rumbled a low chuckle against you skin, the gravelly timbre shooting tingles along her spine. "You know you want to stay." His mouth found yours, kissing you with a slow, hungry intensity.
"I can’t," you mutter as you arched shamelessly against the solid wall of muscle, whimpering into the heated kiss. These intimate nights used to be your steamy little secret - just two badass workaholics blowing off steam as commitment-free FWBs whenever you craved each other's bodies.
"I'll have your breakfast waiting in the morning, baby girl," Lewis purred in that panty-melting accent, charming and rugged all at once. "Let me take care of you like you deserve."
Your thoughts went to last season; it was stress-free, almost reminiscent of an endless vacation with you being flown out to see Lewis at some of his races — Monaco, Japan, Las Vegas, and Abu Dhabi, to name a few. There was also that two-week getaway to Turkey during summer break with his close guy friends.
But nothing could ever prepare you for how quickly things changed between you and Lewis. Just a few weeks ago, he wanted to make things official.
You blame that Brazilian girl. Jackie, Josie, Julia-something-or-the-other. Lewis's other sidepiece. The one who didn't know how to be discreet.
She's been kicking it with Lewis and his inner circle since 2019, and their off-and-on cycle can put anyone's head in a tailspin.
But, it wasn't your problem to deal with.
As messed up and unusual as it may sound, you knew what you had with Lewis. The conversations were always on par, the sex was bomb, and his friends were nice.
It wasn't until JuJu leaked his whereabouts to a tabloid journalist during his winter getaway to Brazil that Lewis finally put the nail in the coffin for whatever situation they had, and in return, it was you whom he had invited to join him in Paris, testing in Bahrain, and even a race in Saudi Arabia. It was you who he eventually grew close with, closer than what you envisioned, causing him to have an epiphany or midlife crisis moment, but he wanted you for some reason.
You and only you.
Against your shot-caller instincts, you had agreed to try monogamy with your long-time friends-with-benefits partner, yet could you really live up to the ride-or-die girlfriend role?
In the racing world, Lewis was F1 royalty - the kind of megastar talent that sparked a panty parade from groupies with each arrival. At thirty-nine years old, the British race monster had already stacked up multiple championship wins, the insane looks of a cologne model, and a net worth balling enough to buy a private island.
Cradled against his frame, you almost forgot your doubts about your newly-minted relationship status.
Almost.
Lewis was a whole meal with his tattooed body: wide shoulders, chiseled chest and biceps, and a tempting vee that disappeared beneath his form-fitting Tommy Hilfiger briefs. It almost felt criminal for one man to be so incredibly attractive.
"You're doing it again," that baritone washed over you as Lewis smirked knowingly. "Getting thirsty for me. This is why you need to stay." He flexed his pecs in a ludicrous muscle-man pose, making you throw back your head and laugh.
"Bye, Lewis," you shot back, eyes sparkling with mirth as you ran an admiring hand along his sculpted torso. "My mind was on work."
The lie was smooth, but he knew better.
"You think about work more than I do," Lewis chuckled richly, catching your roaming hand to tug you close once more. His skin glowed temptingly in the dim light, and you felt your resistance swiftly melting as his lips crashed into yours again. He tasted like your ultimate indulgence. But soon, much too soon, Lewis drew back with obvious reluctance. "Best not keep tempting me, baby girl. Let me walk you to your car like a good boyfriend."
And there it was - that word reminding you of your new reality. Boyfriend.
Swallowing hard, you began gathering your scattered clothes. "I should really go," she said, aiming for a breezy tone that fell flat even to your own ears. "But raincheck on the morning cuddles and all that, yeah? I've got an early call time."
Lewis watched you with that panty-dropping stare, shaking his head in fond exasperation. "Will you call me when you get to work at least?"
"Of course," you replied, sliding into your dress and avoiding his intense gaze. "I'll see you later," you said with a forced smile before turning and making your way out of the bedroom.
Like a dog to a bone, Lewis followed closely behind in nothing but his briefs and that all-too-obvious aroused bulge that he proudly sported. Bending over to put on your heels, you flinched slightly at the unexpected touch from behind.
His hands flattened against your spine, trailing downwards until it reached your hips before settling on your ass.
With a sharp intake of breath, you turned around to face him, eyes wide with shock and arousal as his fingers squeezed the plump flesh of your backside. "You can’t just grab me like that," you protested weakly, even as your body leaned into his touch.
A devilish grin crossed Lewis’ face. "But you like it," he murmured huskily, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. "You sure I can't convince you to stay?"
"Nope."
Lewis pouted playfully, his hands still lingering on your hips as he leaned in for one last kiss. "Fine," he sighed dramatically, before pressing his lips to your forehead and releasing you with a parting slap on your ass. "I'll see you later, then."
You grinned up at him as you straightened your dress and made your way towards the front door. "Bye, Lewis," you called over your shoulder.
As soon as you stepped outside into the cool London air, reality hit hard. Your mind was a cyclone of emotions.
Why were you still craving the easy detachment of your previous arrangement? Surely you were just going through an adjustment period of cold feet. A big part of you felt skittish about going from independent and free to somebody's boo'd up ball-and-chain, especially with someone who equally enjoyed working as you did. Though you weren’t on Lewis' level of fame, you still had clout as a fashion stylist and worked with prominent magazines, such as Vogue and Vanity Fair. You faced plenty of trials and trepidations in your life, yet navigating this new realm of commitment would be your ultimate challenge.
The drive to your hotel was quiet, with your mind filled with thoughts of Lewis and the budding relationship between the two of you. Shaking off those thoughts for now, you focused on reaching the hotel safely and getting some rest before another long day on set tomorrow.
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The next morning came far too soon for your liking. Despite having only slept for a few hours due to work calls and texts from Lewis throughout the night (something he did often but never seemed to tire), you dragged yourself out of bed when your alarm blared loudly.
After a quick shower and a strong cup of coffee, you were dressed and ready to head to the set for another long day of styling. As you arrived at the location, you were greeted by familiar faces - the models, photographers, and other crew members whom you had worked with countless times before in the last couple of months. You were currently on a six-month contract for Schön! and even though there was some shoots that required long work days, you appreciated the flexibility of the work.
Everyone was scurrying around, setting up equipment and making last minute adjustments before the shoot began. You made your way over to the fashion rack where designer clothing was carefully organized and ready to be styled on the models.
"Morning, Y/N!" A voice called out from across the room.
You turned to see one of your bosses, Tara, walking towards you with a smile on her face.
"Hey, Tara," you replied. "How's it going?"
"It's going good," she said, glancing around at the busy set. "Looks like another long day ahead of us."
You both chuckled, knowing that long days were just part of the job.
"So, what are we working with today?" Tara asked curiously as she looked over at the fashion rack.
"A mix of high-end brands and some vintage pieces," you replied, pulling out a beautiful Dior dress from its garment bag. "I'm excited to see how this looks on one of our models."
Tara nodded in agreement before getting pulled away by one of the photographers who needed her assistance. You went back to organizing and styling the clothes for each look on your mood board.
As the day went on, you couldn't help but feel a little distracted by the constant buzzing of your phone. Every few minutes, another text from Lewis would come through, each one more persistent than the last.
"Come with me to Australia," one read. "I'll book your flights."
"Wasn't it your fantasy to be bent over the railing of a hotel overlooking Hobsons Bay?" another said.
You sighed as you set your phone down on the table next to you, trying to focus on the task at hand. The shoot was going smoothly but with every text from Lewis, it became harder and harder to concentrate.
One thing was for sure: this nigga was extremely persistent.
You couldn't deny that a trip to Australia sounded tempting - it had been on your bucket list for years now. But at the same time, it wasn't practical for you to just drop everything and go away for an undetermined amount of time.
Or could you? an intrusive thought bubbled in your head. The hoe side of yourself was speaking, coming out from the depths of her hoeness cave. It often appeared whenever Lewis was involved, and let's be honest, it was probably the reason why you found yourself in this weird ass situation in the first place.
Think about that tongue of his, girl! ‘Member how he had you walking funny for three days straight after finishing in eighth place?!
You couldn't forget it, as it would always be ingrained in the fiber of your very being. You enjoyed seeing Lewis angry, especially when there was a mistake during race weekend. Not that you blamed him for losing, as the car wasn't up to par, but he had a unique way of channeling his anger through sexual pleasure.
A familiar shiver ran down your spine as you hit send on a three-letter response to him.
Well, there goes the idea of keeping my distance and any modicum of self-respect.
Bitch, you know you can't resist that dick, quipped your inner hoe.
And as usual, she was correct.
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The hotel didn't have a direct view of Hobsons Bay, but the Yarra River and Botanical Gardens could still be seen from the balcony. It was nighttime, and as Lewis moved in a steady rhythm, your vision may not have been top-notch, but the sparkling city lights served as a focal point amidst the familiar feeling building up in your pelvic region, signaling an imminent orgasm.
You couldn't help but moan loudly as Lewis hit that spot inside of you that always made you lose control. He had you bent over the railing, one hand gripping your hip while the other played with your aching nodule. Each thrust sent bolts of pleasure shooting through your body.
"Fuck," he grunted in your ear. "You feel so good."
You couldn't respond, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. As his pace quickened, your moans grew louder and more desperate. The height from the penthouse's balcony was both terrifying and exhilarating, deafening in its intensity. It was a common choice for him whenever he visited Australia, as if being that high up meant less chance of encountering any spiders.
Just as you were about to reach your climax, Lewis stopped to bend down to bury his face in your core, working that sinful mouth of his. Your legs began to tremble as two of his fingers pushed inside you, matching the movements of his tongue.
He had always been a master at eating pussy, and it didn't take long for you to reach your climax. You cried out his name as waves of ecstasy washed over you, leaving you breathless and satisfied. Lewis stood up, a smug grin on his face as he saw the effect he had on you. He turned you around to kiss you deeply, tasting your own essence on his lips.
"You're still the best I've ever had," he whispered against your lips.
After catching your breath, you put a smirk on your face. "That's because I am the best," you teased.
"You’re right 'bout that," he concurred, leading you to the patio couch.
He sat next to you, his hands running up your sides and causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the sensation of his hands on your body.
"You always know how to make me feel good," you murmured.
"I aim to please," he replied with a wicked grin, before leaning in to kiss you again.
Without breaking the kiss, Lewis maneuvered you so you were now straddling his lap. His lips moved down your neck, causing shivers to run down your spine. Your hands roamed his muscular back, feeling every ridge and dip of his body.
His hands traveled to your hips, guiding them as you began to grind against him. The friction between your bodies was building a delicious heat, making it hard for you both to control yourselves.
"God, I need you," he growled against your skin.
You moaned in response, eagerly meeting his lips again. Lewis thrust upwards, filling you to the hilt and causing a soft gasp to escape your lips. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you leaned back slightly and rocked your hips faster against his. The pressure was building between the two of you and it was becoming harder to keep quiet. Your nails raked across his skin and he hissed in pain.
"Mmm...easy there, baby girl," he rumbled out a low warning, giving your earlobe a gentle nip of reproach. "Can't have you mauling me before the big race this weekend. Need to look pretty for my adoring fans."
You scoffed and ground harder against him in sweet retaliation, making him curse roughly. "Please, I'll mark you up anyway I want," you husked.
Lewis chuckled and tightened his grip on your waist, holding you still as he thrust up into you with more force. Your head fell back in pleasure, a loud moan escaping your lips.
"Jesus Christ," he groaned, his movements becoming more frenzied as he chased his own release. He reached between your bodies to stimulate your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, along with your moans and Lewis' low curses.
"That’s my girl takin' this dick so well," he croons softly. "You’re so fuckin' wet, baby. You like this dick, huh? This yours?"
Lewis' words only spurred you on, as you continued to ride him with reckless abandon. The pleasure was building inside of you, threatening to consume you completely.
"You know it's mine," you gasped out, your nails digging into his shoulders. "No one else's."
"Damn right," Lewis growled, his own release approaching fast. He gripped your hips tighter and slammed into you one last time, pushing you both over the edge.
Your walls clenched around him like a vice as you came undone, screaming his name as he followed suit shortly after.
Panting and sweating, the two of you collapsed onto the couch in a tangled heap. Lewis held you close, kissing your forehead gently.
"You're amazing," Lewis murmured, voice rough with satiated desire. His arms tightened around you, pulling your flushed body flush against his sweat-sheened skin.
You hummed out a breathless laugh, nuzzling your face against the solid warmth of his chest. "So are you."
For a long while, the two of you simply held each other close, basking in the post-coital glow. Lewis traced idle patterns across the exposed skin of your back, his touch reverent and tender.
Finally, with obvious reluctance, Lewis stirred beneath you.
"As much as I hate to move right now, we should probably get cleaned up."
The two of you stood up, still tangled in each other's embrace, and made your way to the bathroom. Lewis turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature before pulling you under the warm spray with him.
You leaned back against his chest, feeling content and blissful as he washed your body with slow, gentle movements. His hands lingered on your curves and crevices, eliciting soft moans from you.
"I could get used to this," Lewis murmured against your neck, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot behind your ear.
You chuckled and turned around in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. "Me too."
And even though you are apprehensive, there is no denying that Lewis was still the best thing in your world, but it all can't be butterflies and rainbows...
TO BE CONTINUED.....
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leclerc-s · 7 months
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i did something bad - part two
THE CHARLOS BREAK UP
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masterlist//previous//next
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BRAZIL 2023
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daniel ricciardo please tell me charles did not get into an argument with carlos.
teagan horner charles did not get into an argument with carlos. carlos got into an argument with him, two very different things.
max verstappen what was the argument even about?
charles leclerc doesn't matter it was bullshit.
mark webber clearly not, if you two came to blows.
pierre gasly carlos said he was shit driver and and that he only had the red bull seat because he was 'fucking horner's slut daughter' or that was the tailend of what i heard.
pierre gasly not to mention he punched teagan in face because she stood in front of charles hoping to stop the situation.
alex albon well i'll be damned.
yuki tsunoda so we all follow that one gossip account? because i know none of you were near when this happened.
liam lawson i do. how else am i supposed to find out that fernando alonso was visited by taylor swift last week in austin? daniel ricciardo it's fun to follow them. one time they said max and i were hooking up, we weren’t, but i liked the tweet to fuel them more. pr was not happy that week.
mark webber christian's been awfully quite this entire time.
max verstappen we're planning on how to torpedo into carlos in brazil. i'm the sacrifice because i've already won the championship. checo perez he supposed to fail at getting pole position in quali next week to end up behind carlos. sebastian vettel pulling a kvyat i see, i respect it max verstappen the only time i'll do something like kvyat. yuki tsunoda HE PUNCHED TEAGAN?! WHAT THE HELL?? WHERE IS THIS MAN?!
liam lawson yuki, think about your actions. charles is getting fined for what you’re thinking about doing (i think)
yuki tsunoda do i look like i give a fuck?
pierre gasly we ride at dawn!
mark webber you two are perfect for each other
sebastian vettel YOU’RE IN A MEETING GET OFF YOUR PHONE GASLY!!!
yuki tsunoda that should be your sign gasly, come back to alpha tauri! daniel can take your seat at alpine
daniel ricciardo hell no. i saw what they did to my fellow aussie, oscar. do you think i wanna get sued by them?
teagan horner we’re back, carlos is still pissed but so is my dad.
mark webber how’s your face after that punch?
teagan horner i have a sick black eye. i look like i got in a bar fight. i got the proper texas experience. christian horner this isn't a laughing matter teagan. you could've been seriously hurt. sebastian vettel he's right teagan, it could've escalated to something worse. max verstappen so is the plan still on to crash into carlos or not?
charles leclerc not, i want to do it. who gives a fuck on where i end up in the drivers championship, i'm already p7. let me do it brocedes style.
daniel ricciardo ah, 2016 spainsh grand prix, those were good days.
sebastian vettel you got p4 and max won daniel ricciardo they were good days because both mercedes dnf'd
max verstappen he won't do it
sergio perez i'll gladly help, we can have a repeat of yesterday.
charles leclerc deal and sorry about that, again.
sergio perez it could've happened to anyone, besides it was my fault
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alex albon so...talk about a dramatic brazilian gp
lewis hamilton why is it always thing 1 or thing 2 starting the awkward conversations? lando norris they have nothing better to do alex albon listen here you muppet!
logan sargeant (i'm so sorry lewis) it's giving brocedes 2.0
nico hulkenberg be grateful you weren't around then sargeant. those were dark times.
lewis hamilton i feel like you're being a little dramatic about it.
kevin magnussen we aren't. everyone walked on eggshells because of you two. toto could never seem to catch a break.
fernando alonso it seems you're the old one lewis, if your memory is failing already.
lando norris kinda surprised it took this long for those two to go at it a la brocedes
charles leclerc i was sandwiched, what was i supposed to do? crash into checo for the second time in a row?
carlos sainz not crash into me. you had no problem crashing into sergio last week.
charles leclerc well, checo is the one retiring this year, not you. you'll have plenty more races.
carlos sainz since when do you call him checo?
carlos sainz and i was on pole! i could've won!
max verstappen at charles' expense no less
george russell "horrified looks from everyone in the room"
daniel ricciardo i don't know if i should be impressed that you know taylor swift lyrics lance stroll coming from the guy who sang our song in an interview word for word last month. daniel ricciardo at least i wasn't the one spamming the groupchat with taylonso memes
lewis hamilton how did this become the mess it has?
fernando alonso this is the only time i will ever wish sebastian was still driving. at least he could control these baboons.
nico hulkenberg who are you calling a baboon, nando?
fernando alonso if the shoe fits, nico, if the shoe fits
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LAS VEGAS 2023
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pierre gasly i will be throwing hands with fred and the rest of ferrari’s f1 team, starting with carlos.
alex albon but we gotta give charles credit, defying team orders the way he did in vegas? respect, it further proves ferrari would keep sacrificing his race even if he was on pole and leading the majority of the race.
liam lawson what did we expect? it's ferrari, and that strategy was a shit one, even i know that. charles had been leading for 35/50 laps and they wanted him to let carlos through? who was down in p6? yuki tsunoda ferrari has shit for brains pierre gasly and it's not like carlos would've been able to make it past checo, oscar, danny, and max to get the win. in the end, lando and alex overtook him, alex who's in a williams! you would've given me a few more laps and i could've overtaken him.
daniel ricciardo also, rumor has it that piero ferrari is like super pissed they let charles go.
mark webber of course he’s pissed, charles was their golden boy, he won monza. the first to do so since 2010 when fernando had won.
liam lawson i think the biggest fuck you to ferrari would be having charles win both monza and imola
sebastian vettel i like this kid, where did christian find you?
pierre gasly outside of yuki’s home. he picked him up by the scruff of his neck and said, “i want you to be our reserve driver at alpha tauri” liam lawson he found me in a dumpster outside of his home. sebastian vettel i hate both of you
teagan horner i thank god everyday that there is only one race left until the season is over
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¡leclerc-s speaks! would carlos ever act like this? probably not, doesn't mean i'm going to stop writing it this way. i think people react in different ways when they're hurt and unfortunately in this fic carlos is lashing out. don't worry, i'm going to fix their relationship, just not for now, i like drama. would any of these events happen irl, no way, but what's the fun in fanfic if you can't exaggerate events at least a little?
¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!
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cameronspecial · 3 days
Note
hiii, could i request reader pranking rafe/drew? Maybe telling rafe/drew that she got waxed by a guy or pretending to be on a call with a friend and telling her friend ways to cheat? It’s up to you, thank you soooo much!!
Elizabeth's Replacement
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of Sex At The End
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.4K
Masterlist
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After seeing the video on TikTok, Y/N knows what she has to do once she gets home from her waxing appointment. She places her bag on the floor beside the couch and sits down beside her boyfriend. Rafe looks up from her phone, “Hey, Princess. How was your appointment?” She shoves his arm in front of his face. “Feel how soft my arm is. Elizabeth’s replacement did a good job.” His warm hand rests on her forearm at her request and feels her smooth skin. He leans over to kiss her, “Very good. Why did you have a replacement? Where was Elizabeth?” Y/N fishes out her phone from her pockets and begins looking through it. “She is sick. Don’t worry, Charlie took good care of me.” At first, Rafe doesn’t think anything of the name. “Yeah, that’s good,” he states, going back to scrolling on his phone. Y/N smiles, “Yep, he even put this cream that numbs the pain on me when he did my Brazilian wax.” Rafe’s thumb freezes and hovers over his screen. “What do you mean he? And which one is a Brazilian again?” 
She acts and looks up at him, “Charlie is a guy and a Brazilian is for the vagina. Why do you ask?” Rafe throws his phone to the side and quickly flips himself so he is standing above her. His hands slam against the back of the couch, caging her in. “What do you mean a man saw my pussy?” he growls. She knows he didn’t make a mistake with the possessive determiner because this is a case of when his possessiveness shines through. His eyes darken, dripping with anger. She can’t hold it in anymore and begins to giggle. His head tilts and confusion flashes in his eyes, but the fury remains. “What are you laughing at?” She rests her hand over his chest, “It was a prank, Baby. Elizabeth was there and she took care of me. There was no guy. I made him up.” “So no one else has seen my pussy except for me, you and Elizabeth?” he confirms. 
She grins up at him and kisses him, “No one else has seen me. I promise.” He lets out a loud breath and steps back. A frustrated laugh falls out of his lips before he leans forward right in front of her face. “Don’t think because you just got waxed, you aren’t going to be punished. Once you are healed, I am going to make you regret pulling that prank. At least, Elizabeth’s handiwork is going to be put to good use.” He picks up his phone and storms out of the room, most likely going to work out to blow off steam. Y/N’s thighs clench together and she is begging the universe to make the forty-eight hours go by fast because she can’t wait for what Rafe has in store for her punishment. 
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld
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delulujuls · 20 days
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saudade | as12
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funny how you can miss someone you never met, right? my heart was aching today a lot and i cried even more while writing this so yes, it is long and it is sad, so you decide if you wanna read this or not. if you do, please enjoy if its even possible to enjoy bawling your eyes out lol
oh ayrton, you will always be missed
summary: during senna's funeral y/n has flashes of their shared past and what they could have together
warnings: for sure its intense, 5.6k words of pure sadness, thats it basically
pairing: fem!mclaren!driver x ayrton senna
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It was a warm, pleasant day. The beginning of may didn't disappoint with the weather at all. A light, warm breeze swayed the flexible branches, on which fresh leaves were green. The sun was pleasantly warm, but it wasn't unbearable heat. Birdsong could be heard, but so could crying. On this day, mourners outnumbered the blossoming buds on the trees.
A crowd of people had gathered in front of the church, but it was nothing compared to the crowds still on their way. Everyone was dressed in black, and the only point of color in the black mass was a yellow dot, which from a bird's eye view resembled a sunflower petal, thrown onto the black, fertile soil. It was a helmet, a yellow racing helmet, which no one gathered there needed to be introduced to. In trembling hands, a young girl held it, never once moving it away from her chest. She held it against herself so tightly, as if she wanted to feel the warmth emanating from it, but it radiated coldness, like the inside of the church she was about to enter, barely able to keep herself on her feet.
Inside the chapel, it hadn't yet become crowded; the military made sure that the family and friends entered the church first. Inside, there was a grave silence, broken only by the occasional blowing of noses into tissues or a stifled sob.
The girl was aware of what was happening, she knew where she was and why she was there. However, her brain stubbornly avoided connecting the dots and completely pushed the facts out of her consciousness. If it had, she would probably have thrown the held helmet deep into the church, and it would have stopped only when it hit the wooden, solid coffin. The girl's gaze never once lifted towards her.
"Y/N, can you hear me?," the girl flinched when Ron's words reached her for the umpteenth time, "You know you don't have to be here, we can be outside."
The girl blinked several times, and at that very moment, her brain stopped pushing away the facts. Ron held her arm, his eyes swollen, his face even redder than usual. She herself pressed the helmet to her chest, so tightly that only when she moved it away from herself a little was she able to fully breathe. She raised her eyes and looked around. She stood in the front row of benches, where at the very top, just in front of the altar steps, stood the coffin. A large, carefully ironed Brazilian flag lay on it, its freely hanging ends touching the fresh flowers lying beneath it.
"Y/N…," the man began again, this time quieter. He saw tears in the girl's eyes, and he was about to continue, but she pressed the helmet tighter to her chest and started walking forward. She only moved the helmet away from herself when she placed it on the coffin. Y/N fell to her knees and began to sob, pressing her forehead against the hard lid. However, the lid of the coffin wasn't the only thing that separated her from her friend. The worst was death.
It was a brisk february morning. Silverstone Circuit had not yet woken up, there was no deafening roar of engines in the background, and the smell of burnt rubber didn't hang in the air.
Although it wasn't a race day and only a handful of people were milling around the facility, unlike the tens of thousands who usually flooded in for the weekend races, this day was expected to be exciting and full of emotions too.
Certainly, it was so for the 23-year-old Theodore Racing driver, who, sitting in the passenger seat on her way to the circuit, nervously picked at her nails. However, she should now be referred to as the "former Theodore Racing driver" because on this day, she had a test day at McLaren, with whom she signed a contract two weeks ago. In the past two months, the girl's life had changed dramatically. A few days after her birthday, she became the European Formula 3 World Champion, winning the title by just one point. One! The fact that she was so young and the only woman to rise so high meant that many people had their eyes on her and followed her every move. However, most people who hadn't seen her driving at over 200 kilometers per hour thought that being a woman automatically disqualified her from the sport. Ron Dennis, the head of McLaren, was familiar with her skills, though, and seeing how well she performed in the lower levels, he decided to take a risk and give her a chance. One of his proteges, however, wasn't so sure about this decision.
"Girl? You want to replace Prost with a girl?"
Senna, upon hearing the candidate to replace Alain, who, after five years of dealing with him, decided to quit and move away from McLaren, only shook his head.
"Yes, that's exactly what I plan to do," Ron lit a cigarette and shifted his gaze from the car to the disgusted face of the Brazilian, "Maybe she'll calm you down a bit. It's a miracle I found anyone to take Prost's place, no one wants to work with you!"
Ayrton snorted and shook his head again, unable to believe that his boss wanted to do something so idiotic. Silence fell in the garage, none of the mechanics intended to interrupt their conversation. Just like everyone else in the team agreed with Ron that it was a miracle to find anyone willing to take Prost's place, the same majority couldn't imagine a woman starting to race in Formula 1. Especially alongside a driver like Senna.
"A few races, and she'll quit on her own," the Brazilian muttered, "You'll see."
"Pray that she likes you and wants to race for us."
When the car stopped in the gravel parking lot, the girl got out and put on her sunglasses. Tom, her manager and a close friend of her father, just glanced at her and rubbed her back. He knew perfectly well how stressed she was. No one would be prepared for so much in such a short time.
"Everything will be fine."
"You don't have to say that."
He sighed and just pointed with his hand towards the entrance to the facility, letting her through the glass doors. He didn't convince himself too much. Shortly after, after receiving the appropriate instructions, they reached the paddock. Here, the sun didn't glare in her eyes, so the girl took off her glasses, looking around. An empty Silverstone was something unheard of.
"Good morning, welcome, good to see you,"
Ron, standing in front of the garage, as soon as he noticed the girl, broke off from the conversation with one of the mechanics and smiled at her, shaking her hand. She showed up for the tests, so he thought she deserved a shot. Maybe this would work.
The girl made an effort to smile and nodded at him. Fortunately, she didn't have to engage in a conversation with him because he was immediately engaged by her manager. She was glad that in moments like this, someone else could spare her from meaningless chatter.
"Good morning."
She greeted, approaching the car where a few men were working on the wheels, wing, and cockpit. Some of them spoke up, while the rest just nodded at her. She immediately felt unwelcome, and barely a minute had passed since she appeared in the garage. However, this was nothing new to her, she would lie if she said she was surprised. But the most important thing for her was that Ron treated her as an equal, or at least didn't make her feel like she didn't belong here. That gave her a sense of comfort. She didn't need a crowd standing behind her; she only needed two people who had her back.
The girl slowly walked around the car. The new, ready-for-the-season MP4/4 looked very good. Next to the car marked with her number stood another, practically identical, differing only in the number painted in red on the front.
However, the owner of the car was nowhere to be seen, at least not in sight. Y/N hadn't had the opportunity to meet Ayrton personally. The drivers' presentation with the car was scheduled for the end of the month, so it was quite likely that until then, she would have time to mentally prepare herself. She knew Ayrton from stories; she could watch his battles both on and off the track on television, the domestic war he waged with Alain Prost which ended with the Frenchman's departure to Ferrari.
Y/N knew she would have to face many things, one of which was Senna.
"Ready?"
Ron's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, he held a helmet and jumpsuit for her in his hand. She nodded and took the items from him, going to change. When she returned, she took her place in the cockpit, and after some time, when everything was ready, she followed the instructions and took her place on the track. She took a deep breath and clenched her hands on the steering wheel, staring at the start lights. When they went out, the girl sped off with squealing tires and the roar of the engine.
Ron and Tom stood next to each other, watching her movements on small monitors. After some time, the mechanics also began to glance at the monitors, seemingly more interested in whether she hadn't crashed yet than in her results. What surprised them was the sight on one of the displays showing her current lap time, which now stood at 1.38.412 seconds. Ron smiled and shook his head in amazement. The young girl was incredible.
The car itself wasn't handling badly. Besides feeling like a huge boat, to which she was definitely too small, it was actually a well-engineered machine. A few more laps, and she should be able to tame it completely. Although this fact was reassuring. When the girl spotted the checkered flag, she obediently pulled into the garage. She turned off the engine and unfastened her seatbelts, but she didn't get out of the car or take off her helmet because Ron was already beside her, hugging her tightly.
"Young lady, you flew in that car!" The man helped her out of the car, and she took off her helmet and balaclava, taking out the earplugs. "I told you, you did amazingly. Unbelievable lap time, great driving."
The girl wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and blew a strand of wet hair from her forehead.
"It's a really good car, sir."
"A good car without a good driver is just a good car, and a good car with a great driver is a masterful car," Ron shook her hand again, "Brilliant job."
The girl returned his smile, and when she glanced at Tom standing a few steps away, he was also smiling, his smile was the kind of "I told you so."
Y/N gave appropriate feedback to the mechanics and strategists, who now seemed to pay attention to her significantly more than when she first appeared in the garage that morning. Their faces still tried to remain impassive, but nevertheless, they noted everything she had to say. When it was all over, the girl went to change. She washed her face with cold water and looked at herself in the mirror, clenching her hands on the cold sink. She did it.
When she managed to cool down and calm herself down a bit, clutching her helmet under her arm and holding her jumpsuit in the other hand, shortly after she left the bathroom. Suddenly, she bumped into someone, and that someone turned out to be someone she sincerely didn't want to meet that day.
"Watch where you're going."
Senna muttered, holding a lit cigarette between his lips. He gave her a quick glance and disappeared through the doorway, his jumpsuit rustling as he walked away.
The girl squeezed her helmet tighter under her arm and returned to the garage, putting things back in place. After receiving the last praise and handshake from Ron, she said goodbye and left the paddock with Tom. Ayrton pretended to be too busy preparing for the start, so he didn't honor her with even a single glance. When he heard Ron praising her driving, he only snorted under his breath and shook his head. When the garage fell silent again, Ayrton took his place in the car, getting ready to drive.
"1.38.412"
Senna looked up when Ron spoke above his head.
"1.38.412," he repeated calmly, "The lap time of a twenty-three-year-old after her first drive in a Formula 1 car."
The Brazilian snorted and lowered his gaze, putting earplugs in his ears.
"I hope you'll be better than the girl."
Ayrton didn't hear his words anymore because he put on his balaclava and helmet. He didn't believe the girl had achieved such a lap time. And even if she did, it only spoke of the car's capabilities, not her skills. Senna hoped he would be faster by at least a few seconds. He had been racing in Formula 1 for almost five years; he was incredibly fast, and above all, he was a man!
When the tests ended, and he returned to the garage, satisfied with himself and his driving, the first thing he did was to look for Ron's reaction, wanting to see his expression when he rubbed his nose in it. However, the Brit looked at him indulgently, and Senna, not knowing what he meant, quickly tried to free himself from the seat belts. The Brit simply turned the monitor towards him and pointed with his finger at something that, according to Ayrton, was a big mistake.
Between him and the girl, there was a difference of a few seconds, indeed. But Ayrton was slower.
When Senna freed himself from the car, hastily took off his helmet and balaclava, and removed the earplugs, he was about to say something when Ron stopped him, pressing a cassette to his chest.
"Here, watch it tonight and see how the twenty-three-year-old beat you."
Ayrton squeezed the cassette in his hand and only watched him leave, unable to utter a word. It was some kind of absurdity!
Absurd or not, Senna spent the evening in front of the TV. He sat on the couch, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He frowned and carefully watched the recording from the camera placed in her cockpit. He saw how she aggressively entered corners, braking as late as possible, and how quickly she stepped on the gas when the centrifugal forces stopped working. He took a drag and blew smoke from his mouth, rewinding the tape from the beginning, just as it ended. The recording lasted twenty minutes, and he watched it for the seventh time, counting each lap on his stopwatch. Every time, the result was the same.
He couldn't wrap his head around what she had done, but he decided to consider it just a stroke of luck. She had a better day; he had a slightly worse one. Moreover, it wasn't the testing session or even the qualifying rounds that determined the winner, but the race itself. Driving on an empty track without rivals wanting to take your position was one thing, but racing in a competition where everyone wanted to beat you was a completely different matter. If someone had told Ayrton then that four years later, that girl would shed tears at his funeral, he would have told them to fuck themselves.
Y/N felt a strong arm around her waist, trying to lift her. Ron's heart broke seeing her in such a state. However, he couldn't help her even if he wanted to.
"Y/N, please…," he began, but she shook her head, overcome with tears. Wet stains of tears were visible on the flag covering the coffin. The girl was trembling all over, it was a miracle she could breathe. Since the accident, it seemed like Y/N was handling the tragedy very well, just being sad and quiet. No one had any idea what was yet to come. Everyone who saw Y/N by the coffin, this sight of a broken girl, felt nothing but sympathy. The bond she had formed with Ayrton seemed stronger and much richer in emotions than any he had with any of his partners. Ayrton wasn't just her teammate, he wasn't just a friend or sometimes her biggest enemy. From the very beginning, Y/N mattered to him, and if he said otherwise, he was simply lying.
The official skills assessment test for the girl was scheduled to take place less than three weeks after her first visit to the McLaren garage. Now, however, an official presentation awaited her at the reception hosted by the team. One evening at the company headquarters, a banquet was held, attended by far more people than initially anticipated. Most of them were journalists who had to announce to the world the phenomenon that was a woman at the top level of motor racing.
"It's more crowded here than I thought," the girl admitted when she entered the team headquarters with Tom by her side.
"Everyone is curious about you. There are even a couple of journalists from Australia, believe it or not," Tom said.
She looked at him in shock. "And they flew here specifically for this presentation?"
He smiled and nodded. "They'll be talking to kangaroos and kiwi birds about you," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. And it worked because she giggled at his words. However, her smile faded when she noticed Ron talking to Ayrton and two other men in suits.
"Everything will be fine. You did well on the tests, so you'll do well here too," he said softly, rubbing her arm when he noticed her expression.
"There weren't any sharks in suits and piranhas with cameras there," Tom was about to add some words of encouragement when Ron spotted them and raised his hand with a glass in it, trying to get their attention. They approached him, and he greeted them, introducing them to the directors. Ayrton, standing aside, was mindful of how many people were now watching him and wondering if his new teammate would share Prost's fate. However, the Brazilian had no intention of making an effort for gestures he didn't intend. Nevertheless, courtesy demanded it, so he extended his hand, which she hesitantly shook.
"Senna," he said, his Brazilian accent strongly evident in his last name. "Welcome to the team."
The girl introduced herself as well, but it was hard for her to maintain eye contact. Not because he was almost half a head taller, but because of the confidence emanating from him. It was his team, his place, and his time, and she was just a guest. There was no room for discussion.
Fortunately, the awkward situation was soon interrupted as the drivers and management were invited onstage. Ayrton gestured for the girl to go ahead, and she began to walk in front of him.
"I hope you don't grip the wheel as weakly as you do hands," he murmured behind her, quietly enough so no one else would hear, but loud enough for her to hear his words.
Y/N lowered her gaze, feeling a wave of heat wash over her. Even if she wanted to respond, she couldn't. He caught her completely off guard.
As they stepped onto the small stage, they stood behind one of the cars prepared for this season. The girl intertwined her fingers behind her back and straightened up, standing next to Ayrton. He might play his stupid games on her, but she had no intention of showing that she would easily give in. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and almost believed that his comment had gone unnoticed, but her cheeks were flushed. Normally, he would probably snort under his breath, but now he kept his composure.
After a few words from Ron and the board members, the floor was given to the drivers. The two of them remained on stage, each with a microphone in hand. Now it was time for the media, for their pressing questions and burning issues.
Ayrton sat relaxed, almost bored. His legs were bent at the knees, slightly apart. One hand was around his waist, resting his elbow on it, holding the microphone in the other hand. He answered questions briefly and to the point, not dwelling more than necessary. His attire alone indicated that today's banquet was just a formality; he wore a suit, but instead of a shirt, he had a white T-shirt, and on his feet were sports shoes.
Despite her best efforts not to stress out, Y/N was far from as calm as Ayrton. She sat up straight, one leg crossed over the other. Although her red dress practically touched the floor, she glanced occasionally to make sure nothing was out of place. She felt like every move, even the smallest one, was being watched and analyzed. She felt she wasn't focusing on the content of the questions but on how she appeared.
The girl blinked several times, trying to find a sensible answer to the question that had been directed at her a few seconds ago.
"Could you repeat that?" she asked, feeling a bit embarrassed about her inattention. Ayrton, however, heard the question well.
"I asked if you think you're good enough to compete with men or if you're just here for publicity? Racing is still a male-dominated sport, and it seems like you're just trying to prove something rather than compete," the man in glasses squeezed the voice recorder in his hand and looked at her expectantly. Seeing her confusion, he sighed, "I see you're not too bright, so let me ask directly - do you really think you belong here? Do you have what it takes to keep up with the boys on the track?"
The girl panicked a little; this question completely threw her off guard. Emotions overwhelmed her, and she couldn't utter a word. But there was someone who could speak and had an exceptionally sharp tongue.
"I see that, Mr. - again, for whom are you writing?" Ayrton spoke up, furrowing his brows.
"John Ruffleck, Guardian."
"Ah, of course, the Guardian," the man clicked his tongue indulgently. "Clearly, you are the one that didn't shine with intelligence, asking last year's Formula 3 world champion if she fits in here." Y/N was shocked to hear that Ayrton stood up for her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Despite still sitting calmly, the Brazilian was ready for a verbal battle. "If I fit in here, then the 23-year-old who set a better lap time than me during the tests also fits."
Ayrton bluntly silenced the journalist, who merely muttered a quiet "Thank you" and lowered his head.
Several more questions were thrown in by Ayrton, steering the conversation away from sexist undertones. By the end of the conference, there were no more questions about sexist issues. The drivers got up from their seats, and Y/N turned off her microphone, placing it on the sound table as Senna did the same.
"Thank you," she said, looking at him. He also looked at her, but this time his expression didn't express annoyance or boredom, as it did two times before when their eyes met.
"Don't thank me," he said, taking two glasses of champagne from the waitress. "You are allow to drink, right?" he asked before handing her one of them. She nodded and took the glass from him. "Don't thank me, just learn to counter such nonsense. If they're rude, we can be rude too."
Y/N took a big sip of champagne. Her mouth was dry from nerves.
"I don't want to be rude, it's not proper," she said.
"Not proper?" Senna scoffed. "Because you're a girl?"
"Because they'll think poorly of me"
"Do you really care what that bunch of idiots thinks?"
The girl lowered her gaze. Ayrton was right.
Did she really care? She was a driver; she was supposed to deliver good results. She wasn't supposed to please the audience.
She was about to reply when Ron approached them, cursing the Guardian journalist's stupidity. He was so caught up that he didn't even notice Ayrton sending the girl a final glance and then finishing his champagne, taking out cigarettes from his back pocket, and walking away towards the exit. Y/N only watched him go. At that moment, neither of them had any idea how much she would learn from Ayrton, or that he would gladly take on the role of a teacher himself. No one would have even thought of it then.
When Ron managed to lift the shaken girl, she reached for her helmet again and pressed it to her chest. When she looked up, across from her, on the other side of the coffin, she saw a man in a wheelchair. Frank Williams looked at her in silence, but his gaze was apologetic, his face sad, and his eyes looked like he hadn't slept for days.
"Why?" Y/N whispered, but she wasn't sure if anything managed to leave her lips. Williams didn't need to hear her; her eyes said it all. Even if he couldn't hear her question or look into her swollen, tear-filled eyes, he would know perfectly well that she blamed him for his death. "Why, Frank? Why?" Maybe even more than she blamed God.
"If you can hold on to me for longer than five seconds, I'll let you pass," Ayrton said, exhaling smoke. He sat on one of the crates outside McLaren's garage, wearing sunglasses. The weather for the upcoming race looked exceptionally good, but Senna wouldn't mind rain.
"Are you challenging me?" the girl asked, squinting and looking at him against the light. They were sitting outside, where it was quieter, as the mechanics worked inside the garage.
"Why would I?" the man chuckled, taking another drag. Seeing her uncertainty, he offered her a cigarette, trying to reassure her with his gesture.
Y/N took the cigarette and inhaled the smoke, which tickled her throat, making her cough. She wrinkled her nose and after a moment handed him back the cigarette.
"Don't you want to test my braking skills and eliminate me from the race?"
Ayrton laughed and shook his head. "So, I do have a bad reputation after all."
"Definitely not the best," the girl said softly, smiling uncertainly. Ayrton playfully nudged the crate she was sitting on with his foot. He genuinely liked this girl; in fact, he could and wanted to work with her. Now he was even willing to let her win the race if she showed that she could keep up with him. She had demonstrated many times that she could drive at an exceptionally high level, so Senna was willing to show some humanity and let her achieve her first victory, especially on home turf. He stubbed out the cigarette and stood up, taking off his cap and placing it on her head, pulling it down over her eyes.
"Five seconds," he repeated, walking away as she adjusted the cap on her head.
The girl decided to take up the challenge, realizing that such an opportunity might never come again. Ayrton and collaboration? They were complete opposites after all. Y/N, who started the next day from the last place on the podium, managed to fight her way up to second place at the beginning of the race. She spent the next forty laps chasing after Ayrton, wondering if there was any point in chasing him if she couldn't overtake him. Seeing his familiar helmet in the side mirror, Ayrton smiled. He added a bit more throttle and began counting to five, but the girl's car didn't seem to be falling back. When the agreed time was up, much to everyone's disbelief, both on the track and in front of the TVs, Senna slowed down and obediently let her pass. Unable to believe her own eyes, the girl pressed the gas and took the lead, crossing the finish line with him.
She only believed in her victory when Ayrton offered her his hand and helped her onto the podium.
"Five seconds," he said, smiling at her.
"Five seconds," she replied, returning the smile.
How much she would give to see Ayrton again, even for five seconds. To be able to hug him for five seconds, see his smile. Five seconds now would last like an eternity, for which she would pay any price.
The church was filled with people, mostly family and friends, individuals directly connected to Ayrton. The remaining people were outside, surrounding the church, also gathering along the main road. There were talks of crowds, thousands who came to bid farewell to their hero. They too would give much to see Ayrton even for five seconds. Whole, alive, before the Imola accident.
Y/N held the helmet on her knees, looking at it with vacant eyes. She ran her fingers along the edges, tracing the stickers and sponsor names. She squeezed the soft padding inside. She closed her eyelids. Five seconds.
"Necessity is the mother of invention," Ayrton said, loud enough to make the girl jump. She was barefoot, wearing shorts and a bikini top, with his helmet on her head, visor down. She waved a piece of cardboard towards the grill, trying to ignite it better and not wanting the smoke to get in her eyes, deciding to use whatever she had at hand. And hoping Ayrton wouldn't get mad that she used his helmet for this.
The man smiled and shook his head, placing the wood he held in his hands next to the grill. Standing next to the girl, he lifted the visor and looked into her eyes. She looked at him apologetically.
"I'm sorry, I-"
"It suits you," Senna interrupted, smiling. "Possibly even more than me."
"Do you think so?"
The man nodded. His hair, damp from swimming in the lake, fell onto his forehead, and his brown eyes sparkled. Ayrton had been looking at Y/N like this for some time, in a way that many would describe as tender. Certainly, the girl wasn't just a teammate to him, as who would invite a teammate to their hometown to meet their closest family. Certainly not Ayrton.
"I love you, Y/N,"
He confessed as he lay on the jetty, gazing at the starry sky, where there was no trace of the hot Brazilian sun anymore.
The girl laughed and took a sip of beer, lying next to him and leaning on his arm. Both were drunk, so she was sure Ayrton was joking. However, when his confession was met with silence and he turned to look at her, his face was deadly serious.
"I mean it, Y/N. I love you,"
"You can't love me, you have a girlfriend," she replied, still laughing. There was no way he was serious.
Ayrton got up and without a word, kissed her, wanting to prove his words. When he pulled away after a moment, there was no smile on the girl's face. He was about to say something again, but she touched his cheek and returned the kiss, and he pulled her closer, holding her tightly in his arms. That night, they would find out how much they meant to each other.
Senna meant a lot to the girl, there was no doubt about it. He also meant unimaginable things to all those who took part in the funeral ceremonies, not only in Brazil itself but worldwide. It might have seemed like the world had lost an incredible man, someone who in life had already become a legend. Who would have thought that this living, almost mystical legend was just a man? A man who is mortal. Surely no one looked at Senna that way. Certainly not Frank Williams, who eventually decided to agree and accept Ayrton into his team, bearing an incredible burden now. Senna was supposed to lift his team to great heights, and his tragic death dealt a blow, not so much personal as it was business-related. However, at that moment, that mattered least.
Y/N and Ayrton sat at the kitchen table, eating a late dinner in silence. They were in their shared home in Europe, but for the past few months, the walls of the house seemed to be becoming more alien with each passing day. The atmosphere was as thick as it is now, when none of the people sitting at the table even bothered to steal a glance.
"Why didn't you tell me you wanted to go to Williams?"
The girl asked, stirring the contents of her plate with her fork. Ayrton tightened his grip on the glass and took a few sips from it.
"Ayrton-", "Why did I have to tell you?" he entered her words and looked at her, "Just to make you try to stop me?
Y/N blinked several times. She was shocked. She had the impression that the man sitting opposite was a complete stranger and someone she had never known before.
"To stop you? I'm your girlfriend, I should be the first to know about your plans, not hear from strangers."
"Did it change anything? Did something happen that you didn't find out from me?"
"Yes!" she shouted, slamming her hand on the table. She was so done with all of this. "I'm fed up with you treating me like an enemy for several weeks!"
"Don't you dare raise your voice at me!" he stood up, leaning over and pointing his finger at her. "You have no idea how much I had to do to get that offer, how much it cost me!"
"I have no idea, because you don't tell me anything!" she also stood up, pushing his hand away, which he was aiming at her face, "Fame has gone to your head, you're acting like a complete idi-" She didn't get to finish because Ayrton slapped her across the face. He didn't realize when his open hand met her cheek. Y/N grabbed her cheek and looked at him in shock. At the moment of the strike, he also seemed to snap out of it, as if he had been hit himself.
"Y/N, I'm sorry," he said calmly, trying to approach her, but she backed away a few steps, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."
"But you did," she said with a trembling voice, tears welling up in her eyes, "I don't recognize you anymore, Ayrton".
As the funeral rites began, the last thing on Y/N's mind was their recent arguments, of which there had been plenty lately. Nonetheless, since the incident when he raised his hand to her, Senna understood he had crossed a line. The only upside of the whole situation was that they had started talking again, and Ayrton had come to realize that Y/N was not his enemy. Yes, on the track, the girl might be someone he now had to defeat even more than usual, but she was still his friend, his girlfriend, his partner. Speaking of partners, many women appeared at the funeral, but four of them spent exceptionally long periods by the coffin. They had a lot in common, yet none of them deigned to exchange glances. Each of Ayrton's partners, even today, on such a dramatic day, looked at her as if she were an enemy. Viviane made sure none of them sat on the bench where the family was seated. Y/N belonged to the family. She didn't intrude, Ayrton invited her himself.
"Maybe you should take a break?" Sid Watkins persistently tried to persuade Ayrton and Y/N to withdraw from the upcoming race. "Two weeks, you'll come back to Monaco in better shape, with lighter minds."
Senna sat on one of the crates behind the Williams garage, elbows resting on his knees. Y/N repeatedly wiped her tear-streaked cheeks, trembling hand holding a cigarette. An hour ago, the qualifying session for tomorrow's race was interrupted by Roland Ratzerberger's serious accident. The man was taken to the hospital, but many said he was taken from the track already dead.
"This shouldn't have happened, there shouldn't have been talk of such an accident," the girl repeated, almost hysterical. She was in tremendous shock, having witnessed the accident herself as she was the one who followed Ratzerberger's car.
"They need to cancel the race," Senna said dryly, his gaze fixed on a point in front of him. "We can't race here, not after something like this."
"And if they don't cancel?" Sid looked from Ayrton to Y/N. "Will you race in such a state? You won't sleep over this until tomorrow."
"If they don't cancel, we'll race for him. I'll drive the best I can to honor him with a victory," Ayrton decided, raising his gaze and looking the doctor in the eyes.
"You like fishing, right? Why don't you go back to Brazil, catch some fish, relax. If you want, I'll come with you, I could use it too."
Senna rubbed his face with his hands, intertwining his fingers and pressing them against his lips. Again, he fell silent. He knew they couldn't not race; he certainly couldn't afford to tell Frank after months of effort that he wouldn't start tomorrow. He couldn't do that.
"I don't want to race," Y/N admitted, shaking her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Ayrton, he, Roland-" the man rose without a word and hugged her tightly. He enveloped her in a strong embrace, stroking her hair. Watkins saw that Senna was thinking intensely. And no matter what he said or did to convince him to skip the race, he would do it his own way.
"Think about it, Ayrton. Just think about it," he said one last time. Senna looked him in the eyes and nodded in silence.
Late in the afternoon, Ayrton and Y/N returned to the hotel. They didn't talk much; Y/N occasionally wiped her eyes with a tissue. Ayrton held her hand a lot. When they lay in bed, Senna laid on her stomach, wrapping his arm around her waist. The girl began to run her fingers through his damp hair.
"I don't want to start tomorrow, Y/N," he said softly. He was facing away from her, she couldn't see that he was crying too. "I have a bad feeling."
"You know nobody can force you to do it," she said calmly, her other hand stroking his cheek. "Maybe Watkins is right? Let's fly to your parents, spend time with the kids. It's been two months since you've seen them."
"I can't," he said, wiping his face with his hand. "I can't, nobody needs a driver who doesn't race."
"Ayrton—" "Just hold me," he interrupted, sitting up. The girl obeyed his command, sitting between his legs and hugging him tightly. Both were silent; Y/N tenderly stroked his head and tense back.
"This will be my last season," he said, not moving an inch from her. "I've done enough; I don't need more. I want to focus on something else, on more important things."
"On what, my love?" she asked gently, still stroking his hair.
"I want to be a dad,"
Senna surprised her with this confession. The girl smiled.
"Would you like to have a son or a daughter?"
"A daughter, oh, how I'd love a daughter," he said, pulling away to look at her face. "Would you like to have a child with me? And become my wife?"
Y/N smiled and nodded. "You know I would."
Ayrton returned her smile and cupped her face in his hands, kissing her deeply.
"Te amo, querido,"
"I love you too, Ayrton. And i will always do."
"And i will always do," Y/N said qiuetly, watching as the coffin slowly descends into the ground. Nothing can destroy such love, certainly not death.
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