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vanteguccir · 17 days

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Vogue Beauty Secrets | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where the world-famous actress and model, Y/N, is invited by Vogue to record a video of her Beauty Secrets, but during the recording, Chris, her boyfriend, decides to make a brief appearance.

Warning: None.

Requested?: No.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

A/N²: This is, by far, my worst work ;( I'm so sorry if this suck badly, I've been very occupied, helping everyone that I can around my country because of that disaster that's been happening in RS, and my mind is not in its right place right now...

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The golden sun peeked through the silk curtains, illuminating Y/N's spacious marble bathroom. She was at home in her luxurious suite, ready to share her beauty secrets with the world.

A few days ago, Y/N was busy organizing her appointments when an email with the iconic Vogue logo caught her attention. With a mix of curiosity and anticipation, she opened the message to discover that Vogue was interested in featuring her in its exclusive beauty video series, Vogue Beauty Secrets.

The news filled her with excitement and pride. As one of the most in-demand models of the moment, walking on runways for renowned brands like Gucci and being a regular in the pages of Vogue itself, Y/N was already a familiar presence in the fashion industry. However, the invitation to share her beauty secrets with the Vogue audience represented an exciting opportunity to connect on an even deeper level with her fans and followers.

As Y/N prepared to start recording the video, she could hear the distant sound of laughter and the distinctive hum of video games coming from the next room. Her boyfriend, Chris, was immersed in one of his thousands of games, completely absorbed by the virtual world.

With a captivating smile, the girl waves to the camera with her left hand, starting the recording. Her long hair falls like a silken waterfall as she approaches the dressing table adorned with high-quality beauty products.

"Hi, guys! It's Y/N here." She greets enthusiastically, her smile stretching across her face as her right hand lifts slightly, showing the white mug full of fresh brewed coffee. "And I'm back on my favorite channel. Today is a very special day because I'm sharing my beauty secrets with you!"

With grace and elegance, Y/N begins her skincare routine, explaining each step in meticulous detail. She gently applies a gentle cleanser, massaging it into her skin in circular motions while commenting on the latest happenings in the fashion world.

"You know, being on the cover of Vogue for the fifth time is an honor." She shares casually. "But it's also a reminder of how much hard work and dedication it takes to get there. I remember when I was just a 10-year-old kid walking down the hallway at home in my mom's heels."

While applying a refreshing toner, Y/N describes how she likes to take care of her skin to keep it radiant and flawless, even under the relentless camera spotlight.

"It's all about consistency and finding what works for you." The girl advises gently, looking directly into the camera with confidence. "And never underestimate the power of drinking lots of water and getting enough sleep!"

With one fluid movement, Y/N moves on to the next step: makeup. She carefully selects her favorite products, explaining the reasoning behind each choice as she applies them with masterful skill.

"My makeup philosophy is simple: enhance natural beauty." She explains, delicately tracing her eyebrows with a pencil in the tone of her natural hair. "It’s all about enhancing, not transforming."

Y/N lowered her head slightly, her right hand hovering over her laid out products before her index finger and thumb fished out her Dior blush.

"This one is Dior Backstage Rosy Glow Blush. It's super beautiful and gives you, like, baby pink glow. I'm literally obsessed!" The girl opens the small packaging, momentarily showing the pink powder to the lens before applying it delicately to the apples of her cheeks with a white brush. "I used to use really heavy blush when I was in school." Y/N confesses, laughing. "My face looked like a paint palette! Chris said it also looked like I had sunbathed for hours without sunscreen. But over time, I learned the art of subtlety."

As she continued to expertly apply her makeup, focusing on the smooth strokes and precise touches, a noise at the bathroom door broke her focus. With a surprised sigh, she saw through the mirror her boyfriend entered the spacious room with a frustrated expression on his face.

"Fucking hell!" He grumbled under his breath, muttering curses as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh softly at the sight of him, knowing he was dealing with another loss in his game against Nick and Matt.

"Having some trouble, babe?" She asked playfully, turning her face slightly towards him and giving him an amused look as she continued to apply her makeup.

Chris let out a heavy sigh and walked with quick steps toward her, looking over Y/N's shoulder to see what she was doing. His eyes widened in surprise as he noticed the strategically placed recording camera before turning towards his girl with raised eyebrows.

"Wow, wait!" The boy exclaimed, excitement clear in his voice. "Are you recording a video?"

Y/N nodded, smiling as she explained about Vogue's invitation and the opportunity to share her beauty secrets with the world, her hands gently closing the packaging of the blush before putting it away in its original place.

Chris watched with admiration her animated features as she talked and her hands moving her favorite products - which he had already memorized, him himself buying many of them for her everytime he passed by Sephora -, his eyes shining with pride.

"That's so cool, baby!" He exclaimed, smiling big and wrapping an arm around her waist, moving so that he was more centered inside the lens's frame and clinging to his girl. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"If your intention is to make me blush, it will be impossible under those layers of blush." Y/N intervened, raising her right hand with her palm facing him, rolling her eyes playfully in an attempt to feign annoyance, but the minimal smile on her face said otherwise. "Do you want to stay here? With me."

"Can I?" Chris widened his eyes comically, turning abruptly to her, feeling elated.

"Of course you can, honey!" Y/N couldn't help but laugh at Chris's excitement, nodding with a smile. "Welcome to my world of beauty." She opened her arms in an exaggerated gesture of welcome, receiving a nasal laugh in response.

As she resumed her makeup, explaining the next steps in detail, Chris watched with interest, asking questions and showing genuine interest in the entire process, a childish and euphoric aura surrounding his body.

As Y/N picked up her favorite mascara and began to explain in detail about the brand and its incredible formula that provided volume and length without clumping, Chris's eyes traveled between the product - which he already knew very well - and her concentrated expression. He could see the passion in his girlfriend's eyes as she talked about her beauty rites, and this only increased his admiration for her, an involuntary smile resting on his face.

Then, when Y/N was about to apply the mascara, the boy gently stepped forward, extending his hands, stopping her movements. The girl raised her eyes to him, a confused expression hovering over them before noticing what he wanted to do after watching Chris take the product from her hands.

That wasn't unusual between them; Over the three years of their relationship, Chris had become skilled at some specific makeup steps, helping his girlfriend on several occasions.

"Can I?" He asked softly, holding the mascara in her eyes level.

Y/N smiled, feeling grateful for her boyfriend's affectionate gesture, throwing a wink in the direction of the camera before turning her body slightly to the side, so that her face was still visible to the lens and that Chris could see her completely.

"Please, go ahead, baby." She finally replied, her eyes shining with tenderness as she watched Chris move closer, wanting to put himself in an easy position for both of them, without running the risk of smudging his work.

With skill and care, Chris began to apply the mascara to Y/N's long, naturally curled lashes, following the precise movements he had observed she doing so many times. He furrowed his eyebrows in a serious expression, determined to do an impeccable job, his tongue lolling out of his lips in concentration.

"Chris and I have an interesting ritual. For as long as I can remember, I've always been very careful about the way I look, and that didn't change after I started dating Chris, and much less when we started actively going to each other's houses." Y/N explained softly, without moving her lips too much with the intention of not making him smudge his work. "And Chris, being the adorably clingy boyfriend that he is, would spend hours in the bathroom with me while I was trying out new makeup or getting ready to go out. He would just sit on the closed toilet seat and watch me for minutes on end."

"How could I not look at a work of art as perfect as you?" The boy interrupted her, shooting off his sentence before an involuntary smirk appeared on his lips, feeling the skin of her right cheek burn against his own hand.

"And then, one day, he asked to do my makeup, but before I explained the function of each product." Y/N quickly resumed her train of thought, ignoring her boyfriend's flirting. "And over time, every time we go out together, he asks to help me, or just to watch me doing my skin routine."

"Sharing these intimate moments with you is the best part of my daily routine." The brunette said softly, his tone low with the intention of only his girlfriend hearing, his eyes meeting hers tenderly.

Y/N quickly pressed her lips into a thin line, feeling her neck and cheeks burn even more in shyness, her right hand moving up his body, caressing his covered hip lightly with her fingers in ghost touches.

When he was finished, Chris stood back with a triumphant smile, admiring his work with pride. Y/N turned around, facing the camera and the mirror completely, observing her own reflection for a few seconds, impressed with the result. Her lashes were perfectly defined and voluminous, exactly how she liked them.

"Wow, you're getting better at this!" Y/N exclaimed, approaching her face to the camera slightly, blinking repeatedly, wanting the lens to capture her boyfriend's perfect work. "Thank you, my love."

Chris smiled excitedly, happy to have made Y/N feel even more pretty, his hands returning to their previous place on her waist.

"Vogue, please, get Chris to do the next episode of Vogue Beauty Secrets."

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Extra - comments:

"petition for Chris and Y/N to start posting makeup videos together ✏️📄"

"I never thought I would see Chris knowing about makeup, much less doing someone's makeup 😭"

"this is the cutest thing I've ever seen in my entire life 😔✋🏻"

"I need a boyfriend like Chris, who does my makeup every day 🙏🏻"

"Chris is the true meaning of acts of service 🥺"

"couple goals fr 🤞🏻"

"Chris is to blame for my standard being so high 😫"

"get someone that looks at you like Chris looks at Y/N while she puts on makeup 🤭"

“okay, but can we talk about Y/N’s flawless skin? I'm jealous 😫”

"Y/N's makeup >>>>>"

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My requests are closed, but my asks are always open ♡

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @sturnolio-luvs @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @watermelonreid @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @hpyjw

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

(If you asked to be on the taglist but isn't tagged above, it's because you have set up your account to not be tagged by accounts that don't follow you back/you don't follow)

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meidnightrain · 1 month

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PICK A CARD, ANY CARD❞ - aventurine

summary: in which you take a gamble and draw a card

warnings: reader is gn, fluff

notes: late birthday gift for user @rainswept, happy birthday crow <3

taglist(open): @akutasoda , @ryuryuryuyurboat , @toorurs , @yvnaology , @tragedy-of-commons , @staarri , @rainswept , @karagatan02 , @https-mika

any conversation of yours with AVENTURINE has always never ended well if it started with the words “wanna take a gamble?”. he shuffled the cards in front of you, spreading them out with such expertise that you were left gaping at the swift movement of his fingers. did you ever think you had the willpower to say no to him, your body moving on its own as you nodded your head? you were a fly caught in his honey-like trap, stuck and bound to him for the rest of your life, and honestly, it wasn't that bad.

he drummed his fingers on the table, the rings decorating his gloved hands shining under the chandelier, creating a sparkling illusion of light shining through the lens of a kaleidoscope.

“what are we betting on this time?” you huffed, trying to feign a look of resignation, though he didn’t buy it much to your dismay. “surely you’ll win once more.” the cards were different today; they don’t bear the insignia his usual deck uses; they are branded with the logo of a spade and decorated with the signature colour of the aventurine stone. it sparks your curiosity slightly, which comes with wariness. you’ve fallen prey to his traps numerous times, even with the blaring alarms and warning signs blaring in your head.

“don’t back out now. just pick a card, any card.” he feigned a pout, rose-tinted glasses accentuating the hue of his eyes like a hypnotic spiral. you quickly averted your gaze; any longer, you’d be under his spell. you rolled your eyes at him, though you didn’t feel annoyed at him. if anything, your curiosity got the better of you at what the contents of these cards lay. “i didn’t know that stonehearts could do tarot readings.” you teased him, your smile a borderline grimace.

“i try my best to be versatile,” he said casually as your hands hovered over them, your fingers hesitating to pick one out. AVENTURINE waited eagerly with a smirk on his face that only added to the pressure of your decision. when they landed on a card, his grin widened even more, and you couldn’t help but feel your stomach drop.

“well, what does it say?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant but failing to hide the apprehension in your voice. his eyes gleamed mischievously as he leaned forward, his voice low and playful. “it seems, my dear friend, that fate has dealt us an interesting hand. the card you've chosen reveals a hidden desire.” your heart skipped a beat as he paused for dramatic effect, the anticipation almost unbearable.

“what desire?” you pressed, a crease forming in between your eyebrows at his words. he had to resist the urge to smooth it out with his fingers.

he chuckled softly, showing the card, which is written in the delicate scrawl of his handwriting. “it appears that i’m taking you out on a date,” he declared, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that it sent a rush of warmth through your veins.

you blinked, momentarily taken aback. this revelation caught you off guard, and for a moment, you're unsure how to respond. his confident demeanour is both captivating and intimidating, something you’ve always either admired or feared about him. you’re right where AVENTURINE wanted you, at a loss for words and a fumbling mess, and he looked up at you, grinning like a devil.

“you’re joking, right?” you managed to choke out, a mixture of disbelief and amusement tingling your tone.

“absolutely not,” he replied smoothly, his expression earnest beneath the playful facade. “consider it a wager fulfilled. so, what do you say?” you find yourself caught between amusement and intrigue.

a night out with him—a prospect that's both thrilling and unpredictable. despite the theatricality of it all, there's a genuine sincerity in his eyes that's hard for you to ignore and push away; dismiss it as something less. so you agreed, nodding your head and trying to ignore the rising flush of your cheeks like the red of rubies and scarlet wine poured in wine glasses.

the thrill of the gamble has evolved into something entirely different—a game of hearts that’s raised the stakes and promised higher rewards. you can’t help but take his hand and pray that the dice rolls in your favour this time.

#🗞️ - honkai star rail fics #—stellaronhvnters.#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #honkai star rail fluff #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail

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eetherealgoddess · 16 days

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Hellooo! I keep on rereading all your male reader × bonten fics. It's so good. Can you please make another where the male reader is a straight alpha hybrid that is owned by bonten, but against his will? Like, he doesn't like them or the way they touch him because he doesn't like guys. So one day, Mikey was going to the reader's room to cuddle him or baby him, but he was met by moaning and whimpering which made mikey feel giddy but when he went to the room and found out that the reader was masturbating over a pornstar girl he gets mad, like MAD. He'll grab the phone and angrily ask, "what's this?" To which the reader replies, "you know I'm not gay, master." and he calls all the bonten members to punish him. 🥰

i wrote this a little different than you requested but i hope you enjoy it anyway! <3

ꨄBitchedꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Hybrid Au

❦You're a wolf hybrid who's forced to be Bonten's pet❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread!

Japanese language is red

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture him as a black male but you can see him however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Bitched

“Say please, Master.”

How did you, a hybrid wolf, who used to be an alpha to a pack get in a situation like this?

“Please, Master.” Your face warmed as you kneeled in front of the man, the palm of your hands placed on the floor as you looked up at one of your ‘owners.’ It was demeaning. Downright humiliating to be in such a situation as this. Especially when you’ve only been a leader all of your life.

The man standing above you bent over with his hands placed on his knees as he became eye level with you. His eyelids were heavy - lidded as he gazed into your irises. His bangs hung over his eyes as the purple mane fell over his shoulders. The logo on his neck prominent in your peripheral as you made eye contact.

“Something wrong, puppy?” The criminal frowned as he gave you a bored look, indicating his annoyance at your behavior. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as a rush of anxiety caused you to immediately act.

With your ears perked up and tail wagging, you straighten your posture as a wide grin forcefully grows on your face.

“Please, Master!” Your tongue hangs out as you lightly pant, aiming to be as enthusiastic as possible. Despite your actions, you are deeply ashamed of yourself. You feel like such a coward, obeying and bowing down to a group of men who have power over you. You were forced to submit, your pack having been slaughtered caused you to become a lone wolf.

It was by chance you were caught up in the middle of a deal gone wrong, bullets flying everywhere while you hid in the alleyway. The whole area was surrounded with men in suits. When you tried to escape, you were caught by the scariest short man you have ever seen. You tried to fight, only to be knocked out immediately by a sudden kick you hadn’t expected.

You miss your pack. Nothing is the same. You miss your pack Luna as well, the woman you were married to. You helped each other through your rutts and heat. The first rutt you experienced in captivity was horrible. A few of the Bonten members were ‘experimenting’ with your body, touching and poking at spots you had never even noticed. The stimulation forced you into a rutt, resulting in the need to breed.

The platinum haired male who had kicked you originally covered your erection with lube before he lowered himself to engulf your throbbing cock. You had never been attracted to males in your life, hybrid or not. Although it was enough for you to release your seed over and over, you weren’t in your right mind. Post nut clarity hit like a bitch and it forced you into a depression that still affects you.

The following rutts grew worse, some of the men bending you over like a bitch in heat. Your masculinity and ego were torn to shreds. You had to escape, you needed to leave. So you did, until you were found.

“Good boy!” Rin pats your head before placing the treat on your tongue. “Your Japanese has improved.” He smirked before grabbing the leash that hangs from your collar, forcing you to crawl along as you enter the office where some of the other executives sit.

You swallow the residue crumbs of the treat as you look down, the bruise on your knees growing the longer they are connected to the floor. You ignore the pain as you sit criss crossed, next to the feet that are crossed once Rin sits in his seat.

“Come ere’, puppy.” The older Haitani who sits next to his brother commands while patting his lap. He smiles down at you while you hold back the urge to slice his throat with your claws. You hate that they call you demeaning pet names. You’re no damn puppy. Despite your feelings, you comply, not wanting to experience the baton again.

You keep your gaze down as you refrain from eye contact with any of the men who snicker as you crawl onto Ran’s lap, your bottom connecting as his arms circled around your waist from behind. His chin rests on your shoulder as he listens to the short man.

Mikey proceeds to talk about the mission everyone is needed for, ordering them on what they should do as well as giving some information about their assignments. You could only make out some of the words that you’ve been taught, zoning out as you lose focus on the situation at hand.

“Y/n.” Your ears perk up to your name as you eye the boss.

“I expect you to be on your best behavior while we’re gone.” You knew that was a threat more than anything, though the excitement for a break without all of them being around you was more distracting than the warning.

“Yes, Master.”

It’s been a couple hours since your owners left and you’ve been searching for anything to help aid your escape. Unfortunately, security surrounds the outside area so you couldn’t leave but if only you could find something, anything.

You sigh in frustration as you slam the papers down, having snuck in Kokonoi’s room where he keeps some of the paperwork in his desk area, having already checked the office. You didn’t really know what to look for but you weren’t finding anything anyway. Thoughts of your wife and pack appear as you become saddened, tears prick your eyes before you groan, your head lying in your hands as the elbows are plastered to the desk.

You eye the laptop in front of you, staring at your reflection as memories of your wife fill your mind. You were so desperate for intimacy, ideas began to flood as you looked down in thought. You missed holding her, cooking with her, making pack rules and implementing them with her, watching her take care of the pack’s youth. You miss her nurturing nature. You slam your fist on the desk as you growl.

You need her. You need her touch. You need her care. You need her to be there with you. For the first time in your life, you felt as though someone needed to save you. You miss hearing her voice, her moans and cries of pleasure. Feeling a twitch below you bite your lip. The last time you had sex with a woman was when you originally escaped.

You were so depressed that instead of finding shelter, food, or income you went to a nightclub and boozed up. You remember the lounge area like it was yesterday.

“Fuck!” You hiss as you thrust into the human woman. The couch trembles under your weight as you rock your hips into her missionary style. She moans as her arms wrap around your neck, pulling your head to her shoulder as her nails dig into your skin.

Considering the lack of a sober mind, it was easy to imagine her as your wife which made you more passionate with your endeavor. You pull back before grabbing her face and smashing your lips to hers, slightly gripping her ears as your cock rubs along her inner walls. Her pussy sucked you in tightly as she bucked her hips against you, meeting the hard thrusts as your pace accelerated.

She kissed back eagerly though the slip of tongue reminded you that she is not who you needed though the person will have to do it. You couldn’t bother to feel guilty as the alcohol takes over your train of thought, this being your only way to gain control of your masculinity once more. As toxic as it was, you were just so desperate. You pull back as you hold the back of her legs up, thrusting before both of you moaned loudly, orgasming as your cum shoots deep inside of her.

Just as you finished, a loud shot rang out right before blood splatters on your front, covering your face. You froze, hands wide open as her legs dropped, eyeing the chunks of human flesh and blood that covered the seat above her neck. Any sign of there being a normal head or face gone as your body trembles seeing the pieces of brain scattered. Blood begins to puddle on the floor as you move back, pulling up your pants and falling off of the seat.

“So you escaped to fuck a random bitch?” Sanzu tsked before walking towards you, gun still in hand. His pink hair sways as he crouches down until he is eye level with you. The scars near his mouth stretch as a toothy smile grows on his face. You tense, ears flat as he brings the end of the gun to your head, tapping gently with each word.

“All ya had to do was let us know you were horny.” He chuckled before pulling the gun back and grin dropping. “Instead, you behaved like a traitor.”

Another presence came behind him as the taller male leaned forward, golden orbs meeting your eyes with disappointment.

“You even lost your collar, Y/n. What a bad boy.” Kazutora shakes his head before snatching the collar of your shirt, forcing you to stand up.

You shiver at the memory of what happened the night you were caught with a woman. They were not happy. The punishment was tortuous and you didn’t think you would survive. Rethinking your idea, you tsked before searching the web, typing on the keyboard of the laptop.

“It’s just porn.” You whisper to yourself. They’d be gone for a while anyway.

Clicking the chosen video, the screen displayed the logo and theme music of the site before playing the actual video. You had chosen a short video so it didn’t take long for you to remove the erection out of your pants and spit in your hand. Slick leaked from your head as you wrapped your fingers around the girth. You begin to slide up and down slowly as the woman on the screen bent over on all fours, the camera showing the angle from the side as the man entered into her. They both moan as you accelerate the motion of your hand.

Desperate you shut your eyes as you listened to her moans, imagining your wife as your grip tightened around your cock, sliding up and down at a steadied speed as your hips slightly buck into your hand. You stop for a moment to rub your thumb along the tip as you place your other hand on the base before the hand holding your cock drops to the base.

You moan as your head falls back, eyes squint as you watch the screen, the couple becoming faster and slightly sloppier with their movements as they desperately move against one another. You buck a little harder against your hand as you slide faster, building the pit in your stomach. Before you release, the grip on the back of the chair causes you to jolt, cum shooting on your own torso as you pant, a grunt escaping.

“What’s this?” You eye the man next to you, his dark orbs boring into the screen before turning his attention to you. You were shaken up, not having expected anyone to be in the building besides the guards.

“P-porn, Master.” His eyes narrow down at you before he straightens his posture, moving to the exit. He paused before taking his leave.

“Strip, Y/n.” Your hands trembled as you hesitate, turning back to look at the dark glare coming your way. Not wanting to test his patience, you comply, tossing your clothes to the floor.

“Crawl.” You lower your body to the ground, tail between your legs with your ears flat against your head. You wanted to cower. You knew this wouldn’t end well.

“Come.” You follow him out of Kokonoi’s room to the bedroom in which you stay when nobody needs your service in their bedroom. Your limp cock hangs under you as you bite your lip in embarrassment. You will never get used to this treatment.

Mikey points to the bed once you reach the center of the room. Some of the executives enter just as you climb on the bed. You sit with your legs hanging off the bed, hands on your lap as you eye them.

“Sanzu.” He states. Said man already understood the assignment, walking towards you before reaching in his pocket and snatching a small bag with a pill in it.

“Open.” He demands, your eyebrows furrowing as you eye the pink pill. Your fingers fidget against your lap as you contemplate what they could be giving you. You jolted before whimpering in pain once he used his free hand to twist your nipple.

“Don’t make me say it again, Y/n.” Your lips fell apart before he placed the substance on your tongue. It dissolves as soon as your saliva touches it.

“This will be a part of your training since you haven’t learned your lesson.” Mikey states, watching as the medicine takes effect.

You begin to feel a heat rising just as a sharp pain shoots through your abdomen. Moisture forms out of your ass and cock as it grows, an ungodly amount of slick beginning to ooze out all at once. Your fingers meet the blanket as your claws pierce through in agony and an overwhelming sense of need.

You couldn’t believe what you were feeling. You’ve never felt anything like this before. All you know is that there’s this yearning to be stretched, full and bred. Similar to how your wife would get during her heat. It was as if you were turning into an omega in heat. Your back drops to the bed as your arms circle around your stomach, repositioning yourself into a fetal position.

“You will learn who you belong to.” Mikey crouched to where his face is in front of yours, watching as the tears stream down your face while a painful tightness forms in your cock.

“You will learn your place.” Rin moved your lower body to place the cock ring around your girth as well as your testicles, drawing a pained groan to escape your mouth.

“Look at you… you were never meant to be an alpha.” You whimper as you feel a pressure behind you against your backside. You attempt to sway your arm to fight back, only to be pinned with your stomach against the bed. The firm wet surface replaced itself back against your anus.

“You’re my bitch.” Mikey hissed just as the toy was shoved into your ass, leaving you no room to adjust as it was pushed all the way to the base. You cry out as it stretches your ass, cock leaking against the bed as you whimper from the pain.

“O-oh… shit!” The toy began to buzz as it stuck deep inside your ass. Tears streamed heavily down your face as the feeling in your stomach grew. Your anal walls tightened around the thick rubber as you looked slightly back to see what was buzzing inside of you.

Kazutora holds your tail up as his hand blocks the toy from slipping out, a smile on his face as you make eye contact through your tears.

“Doesn’t that feel good? Dirty boy.” He teased, pushing against the toy that’s already pressed hard against your prostate.

“Ah…” You breathe out, eyebrows furrowed as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

“This is who you are.” Mikey says softly, gazing at your heated face and sweat that formed. He uses a hand to caress your head in between your ears.

Your hips move against the bed, aiding in a pressure against your cock as you seek a release. The cock rings are so tight around you. You could barely think properly.

“How filthy. You’re such a desperate little omega aren’t you?” Ran whispers in your ear on the other side of you. You shake your head.

“N-no… I-I’m an alp…!” A harsh smack on your ass caused you to yelp.

“Bad omega. Accept your alphas.” Rin rubbed along the bruise forming from his sharp slap.

The pill that induced a heat from you is making everything more confusing than it needs to be. Their words aren’t helping and it was frustrating. You desperately needed air but the twitching from your cock and stimulation from your ass says otherwise.

“Do you even deserve to cum, puppy?” Sanzu questioned you as he caressed your back.

You gasp in surprise as you’re forced on your back, the buzzing rubber still inside you.

“Awe, look at how swollen you are.” Ran says before gently wrapping his hand around your cock, thumb barely grazing over the tip as your hips buck.

“P-please…” Everything feels so overwhelming, you just wanted to release so you could run away.

“Please what?” You didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want to comply and give in, but did you really have a choice?

“Please, Master.”

“Still don’t know whatcha want.” Ran smirked just as Kazutora pulled the vibrator to the edge of your entrance, drawing a cry out of you. A hand forced you to look to the side.

“Tell me what you want.” Mikey demands, expression stoic though with an intense gaze.

“I-I want to cum, please Master.”

You officially hate yourself.

The tall man lowered his head before lightly gliding his tongue across the head of your throbbing cock. You grunt as Ran’s lips circle around the tip before lowering down your shaft. You thrust once you hit the back of his throat.

“A-ah!” Lips crash against yours as Mikey pulls you in for a deep kiss. Sanzu unhooks your collar before wrapping a hand around your throat, leaning in to nibble your ear.

Kazutora shoves the cock back inside of you, pressing it against your prostate once more as Rin leaves a hickey on your thigh. Just as you near your orgasm, they all pull back at once, leaving your ass empty and cock unattended as well as the rest of your skin.

“He doesn’t deserve to cum.”

“Bad omegas shouldn’t get to release during their heat.”

“Dirty boys should work for their orgasm.”

You cry out as a thick cock shoves itself all the way inside your ass, immediately slamming against your prostate.

Blonde and black hair drapes over you as Kazutora grinds his hips against you, holding your legs up as he pulls back before bucking into you again. You moan out like an omega who’s been stretched by an alpha for the first time.

“Look at how he’s taking it.”

“Such a slutty omega.”

“All those tears for what? You love this shit.”

“Dirty boy.”

Their words were just as overwhelming as the cock hitting your prostate, sliding in and out of your anal walls as it stretched you full. Your cock twitched as Kazutora grabbed your girth, squeezing slightly before rubbing with the thrusts.

“You better not cum.” Mikey said to you from the side.

“Only good omegas deserve to nut.” Sanzu hissed in your other ear.

“Ah, shit.” Kazutora whispers as his head falls back, releasing your cock before putting your legs over his shoulders and leaning over, gaining better access as he grinds against you.

“F-fuck yeah, baby.” His mouth hangs open as he thoroughly thrusts into you for his own pleasure, not bothering to hold back as he nears his release.

“He’s taking it like a whore.” Rin smirked as he watched your face morph in pleasure, the substance completely clouding your mind as you took Kazutora’s thrusts.

“Of course he is. He was made for this.” Ran states as Kazutora reaches his release with a loud groan, grinding out his orgasm as you desperately buck against him for your own, though nothing comes out which causes another intense pain in your abdomen.

Pulling out, slick fell once more. You release a pained cry as they all step back.

“Please…” You cry.

“Take this as a lesson, Y/n.” Mikey says as the executives begin to walk out of the room, chuckling about your suffering as Mikey turns to look at you once more before taking his leave.

“You’re always going to be my bitch.”

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babybinko · 6 months

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My second batch of venture bros genderbends are finally done! :D [first set here]

PLEASE LOOK UNDER THE CUT!!! I made all these nice drawings and doodles of them and I want people to see them without this post being super long! :') [My thoughts on the designs and doodles will be under the cut as well]

Okay NOW I'm going talk about my thought process on some of these:

Baby Rusty: I love the baby Rusty, the frilly socks and sleeves were a must. I actually drew her with the original set of genderbends but I turned off her layer and forgot about her 💀

Jonas Jr: not much to say about her, I tried to make her like Rosie the Riveter. Her little bandana has the Venture logo on it :)

Jonas Sr: I wanted her to be a hot bitch, her outfit is maybe a little scandalous for the time era they were in but I think it fits, canon Jonas is a whore. I think everybody would want her and that every celebrity, politician, and anybody with any power would chase after her so badly.

Blue Morpho: I made her so incredibly slay. I fucking love her outfit, I found the inspo for the outfit on Pinterest but I changed it up a bit. Also her gun has the bayonetta butterfly wings on it as a charm because I HAD TO.

Colonel Gentleman: Not a lot to say, I wanted to give her like horse riding esque boots and I gave her a purple flower cause she likes the ladies. I know generally WLW flowers are Violets and Lavender but I wanted to draw a rose so, Purple rose compromise <3

Dr.Boyfriend 2: With my last round Dr.Boyfriend was the only one people had complaints with. I think people wished he was more Masculine and I agree but if I switched up the design too much it wouldn't look like Dr.Girlfriend. I hope giving him armor and making him look like a knight helped him look more masc. I made the sheer wings cross over his chest to make it look like it was holding up the shoulder armor. Also his guild book is insanely high quality because I was procrastinating drawing his armor.

Goofy and Goober (Watch and Ward): I think they ended up really cute, I tried to make their hair colors close to Doc and Jacksons since I heard they are supposed to be like their "main" self inserts. With Ward I had a really specific idea for her hair, I kept thinking about this haircut from my sims and had to do it. It might be hard to see but her ponytail holders have skull charms on them. I also purposely gave them both some sort of ponytail hairstyle so they would match but be slightly different :) (They are absolutely prank calling or trolling their clients on that phone btw)

Shoreleave: OH MY GOD I LOVE SHORELEAVE. I kept turning her folder back on just to keep looking at her when I was drawing the other characters. She is so captivating to me, she looks so soft and human. I want to take a bite out of her thigh. My biggest inspo for her was Cammy from Street Fighter, I felt like her dressing a bit skimpy works for her since canon Shoreleave kinda does. The girls out for the girls.

Alchemist: I love her design so much too. I wanted her to look like some kind of nun or priestess. She looks like if a Zelda fire temple was a person. I kinda gave her like a weird little hime cut under the hood. Also I put the Triad logo on all three of their designs (+ Triana).

Jefferson: Had a lot of fun with her, I didnt change her design much from canon though so there's not much to say. I did give her more flared pants though. Drawing her hair was a really fun change of pace, I very rarely get to draw textured hair.

College Rusty and Monarch Drawing: I love this one, Monarch turned out so hot dude. You can tell what character I like more LMFAO. I made rusty very obnoxious 80s while keeping the colors of the original college rusty outfit. Monarch kind of looks like postal dude but its fine because shes slay.

Hereditary Venture Family Dinner Drawing: This was one of the first drawings I started but the second to last one I finished. I wanted to draw the family doing something together but I think I really truly just wanted to draw Dermott again. 😭 Nobody has said anything if they noticed but I did give hatred the shirt from these edits. (I believe the one on the left is from reddit and the one on the right is by SquashFold on Twitter)

Dermott piercing Dean's ears drawing: Even though its messy its in the top 3 favorites I did, It was also the last one I did. I just love the idea of Dermott giving goth Dean at home ear piercings. At first I didn't know if I wanted to make Dermott giving her piercings at the mall where she works or at home but the mall idea was too much work for a last minute sketch. Dermott is so mean older sister who shoplifts and works at the mall.

Drug bathroom drawing: Another one of my favorites, its based off a specific deleted scene from Invisible Hand of Fate where Pete and Rusty talk at the bar but Pete comes out of the bathroom sniffling at the start. I love the way I drew Pete pushing the hair out of her face and both of their expressions.

Bdsm 21 drawing: Okay first of all, The little devil Monarch was so cute I was screaming, crying, and throwing up while drawing her. I fucking love her, shes the smallest part of the image but my favorite. I also am quite fond of the bdsm 21.

Quizgirls Pete and Billy: I tried looking up Vanna White dresses to base Pete's outfit off of but I couldn't find one that Pete would actually wear so I just had to make shit up. Billy's design is really basic but the bow in her hair is actually from one of my rejected main Billy genderbends.

Me and The Bestie: I put a lot of effort into this one for no reason. Literally the moment I saw Jonas in the problem machine I thought he should be made of like blue slime. When I was working on this I kept thinking about Momopatchi's Hatsune Microbe drawing so this Jonas was definitely inspired by that. I gave Jonas makeup because she was having a party movie night on gargantua and I felt like she would still have makeup on thats like completely fucked up and deteriorating on her face after many many years. Vendata's outfit was partially based on Marguerite Chapman's from Flight to Mars, never seen it but I was looking up old sci-fi movie costumes to work with and I thought it would look good :)

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lxndonorris · 3 months

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racing hearts - lestappen

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc Theme: Smutish, Teasing, Touching tension rises during the pre-season testing, a sign of what's to come throughout the year x word count: 1600+ taglist: @game-set-canet I just needed this little interlude ;P

Max breathes in the familiar scent of adrenaline and burning rubber as he steps out of the sleek Red Bull racing car, his heart still pounding from the exhilarating test session. The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the paddock, and Max can't help but feel a surge of contentment wash over him.

The first official testing for the upcoming season has just begun, and it is a moment he has been eagerly anticipating. Max glances down at his new Red Bull racing suit, the iconic logo emblazoned across the chest. He looks so good. As he adjusts his helmet, he can't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling within him.

He had pushed the car to its limits, weaving through corners with precision, and clocked some impressive lap times. With a radiant smile spreading across his face, he takes his helmet off and leaves the Red Bull garage to take a break inside his motorhome.

The rush of adrenaline still courses through his veins, leaving him feeling alive and invigorated. It had been far too long since he had experienced the thrill of racing, and now that he is back behind the wheel, every fiber of his being thrums with pure pleasure.

As he peels off his racing gloves, Max can't help but revel in the sensation of racing lingering inside him as he walks through the paddock, basking in the afterglow of a successful test session. His body hums with energy, every muscle taut and coiled with tension.

With each step he takes, Max feels the tension inside his body and the subtle flexing of his muscles as he moves with purpose and grace. The sheer joy of being back on track is written across his face, his eyes sparkling with excitement, and his chest swelling with pride.

Max can't shake the feeling of euphoria that pulses through him. Racing is more than just a sport to him; it is a way of life, a passion that burned deep within his soul.

As he strolls through the bustling paddock, a sense of nostalgia washes over him, mingling with the thrill of anticipation for the upcoming season. Memories of the previous season flood his mind, each one punctuated by the exhilarating rush of adrenaline and the sweet taste of victory. It had felt incredible to stand on top of the podium and hold the trophy up in the air, knowing all his hard work had paid off.

Then he reaches the familiar haven of his motorhome, and a smile plays at the corner of his lips. Max opens the door, steps inside, and begins to peel off his racing gear, the fabric clinging to his skin with a mixture of sweat and triumph.

Before he can pull the zipper down in its entirety, a familiar voice cuts through the air, causing him to pause mid-motion.

"Max""

Turning, Max's grin widens as he spots Charles, his childhood rival and now his secret lover. Despite their fierce competition on track, their relationship off it is one of mutual respect and passion.

Charles stands leaning against the side of the motorhome, his red racing suit unzipped and hanging around his waist, accentuating every curve and contour of his athletic frame. The dimming light of the evening sun casts a golden hue over him, highlighting the allure that seems to radiate from every pore.

"Hey Charlie!" Max greets him, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement and intrigue. "How was your session?"

Charles smirks, his gaze raking over Max's form with a hunger that sends shivers down Max's spine. "Not bad. But I think I left you some big shoes to fill out there."

Max chuckles, unable to tear his eyes away from Charles' captivating gaze. The tension between them is palpable—a dance of desire and competition that has ignited since the end of the last season.

It started innocently enough—a shared moment of camaraderie that blossomed into something much deeper. And now, as they stand face-to-face, the air crackles with the electricity of their secretive romance.

Charles takes a step closer into the motorhome, his movements oozing with self-confidence and a lingering desire that sends Max's heart racing faster than any of their race cars. "You know, it's going to be much harder for you to become a world champion with me on your tail."

Max feels a thrill run down his spine at the challenge in Charles' words. Leaning in closer, he brushed his lips against Charles' while closing the door behind him. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Charles tilts his head slightly, his hands moving to rest gently on Max's chest, fingers tracing slow circles across his frim muscles. The touch ignites a fire within him that burns hotter with each passing moment.

"I missed fighting you on track," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with desire. "Those battles during testing were...so much fun."

Max lets out a deep, rumbling growl in response, relishing the feel of Charles's hands exploring his body. He leans into his touch, his own hands coming to rest on Charles's waist, pulling him closer.

Max's gaze drifts downward, lingering on the tantalizing sight of their bodies mere inches apart. Despite the close proximity, the space between them seems charged with tension, each breath they take heavy with desire.

His eyes trace the contours of Charles's athletic frame, admiring the way his racing suit hugs every curve and muscle with precision.

A low, primal sound rumbles in Max's throat as he licks his lips, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight before him. The sleek fabric of these red fireproofs clings to Charles's skin, leaving little to the imagination and sparking a fierce hunger within Max. He can't help but marvel at how effortlessly Charles wears the suit, exuding confidence and allure with every moment.

The sight of his boyfriend in his racing gear never fails to stir something primal within him, awakening a need that only Charles could satisfy.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Max teases, "Admit it, you're showing off your tight fireproofs to mess with me."

Charles smirks, his gaze smoldering with lust. "Maybe I am," he admits, not bothering to hide the truth. Instead, he leans closer, his lips brushing against Max's ear. "But seeing the way you react to them...just makes me hard."

Max's breath catches in his throat at the confession, his heart pounding in his chest. The thought of Charles intentionally teasing him, of knowing the effect it has on Max, only fuels the fire between them.

With a low growl, Max surges forward, capturing Charles's lips in a fierce kiss, his fingers trailing lightly over the smooth fabric of Charles's undergarments. His touch is electric, sending sparks flying between them as their bodies press together, molding into one another with a sense of urgency and longing.

Charles pulls away for a moment, meeting Max's longing gaze with a playful smirk. He teases Max further, his fingers tracing the zipper of his racing suit, Max's breath hitches in excitement.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Charles begins to unzip his suit, the fabric parting to reveal the tantalizing glimpse of Max's muscles bulging through his fireproofs.

Max's heart races as Charles's hand slips inside, his touch sending waves of pleasure cascading through him. The sensation of his fingers stroking Max's chest is tingling, each caress leaving him craving more. He leans into the touch, his own hands moving to trace the contours of Charles's body, reveling in the feel of his boyfriend's warmth beneath his fingertips.

Both of their bodies, all of their muscles are hard as rock as more tension builds up inside them.

"I can't wait to fight on the track again," Charles murmurs again. "And this time, I will be on top."

Max lets out a low groan once Charles's hand reaches his crotch; all of this teasing causes his member to grow and bulge inside his tight suit.

He knows Charles is a formidable opponent, one who pushes him to his limits both on and off the racetrack. The thought of facing him on the track once more fills Max with a heady mix of lust and desire.

"We will see about that," Max whispers, playing with Charles's nipples, desperately trying to pierce his shirt.

With a chuckle, Charles reluctantly pulls away from Max, his fingers lingering on the zipper of his racing suit for a moment longer. He can't resist stealing one last admiring glance at Max's physique—his chest so firm and his length tenting visibly—his gaze lingering on the alluring sight of his unzipped suit.

"You know," Charles smirks, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "I won't be able to hide this." He grabs himself through his suit and fondles with his own member. Max bites his lower lip, touching himself as well.

"All I want is to battle you and win." Charles's smirk grows wider while he runs a hand along his length and up his chest to his neck, stroking himself again and again.

Max's heart skips a beat at the declaration, his own desire echoing his sentiments. He knows their battles on track are more than just a competition; they are a test of skill, determination, and passion.

With a shy smirk, Max steps closer to Charles, their bodies still tingling with the heat of their shared desire. "Bring it on," he replies, his voice filled with confidence.

As Charles turns to leave, Max can't help but admire the grace and strength in his stride. Their love may be a secret, but the fire that burns between them is undeniable.

Max watches Charles leave, his heart heavy with longing, feeling a pang of disappointment that their time together was cut short. The sight of Charles stroking himself before turning back for one last look will linger in Max's mind.

With a sigh, Max gets back into his motorhome, resting for the upcoming race next week.

#lestappen #lestappen fic #lestappen fanfiction #lestappen smut #max verstappen x charles leclerc #max x charles #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 smut #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lestappen imagine

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mayhem-things · 1 year

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Y/N starts to work for Euro in Helvete but when the heat between them grows they almost get caught by a customer

tw: slight mentioning of nsfw content

(1329 words)

thanks for 40 followers! It means a lot to me

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In the small town of Oslo, Norway, nestled amidst the cobblestone streets and historic buildings, there was a record shop called "Helvete" Owned by the enigmatic Øystein Aaserth, it was a haven for music enthusiasts seeking solace in the world of vinyl. Øystein had always been passionate about music, and his knowledge was unmatched in the region. He took great pride in his carefully curated collection and longed to share it with someone who could truly appreciate it.

One sunny morning, Y/N, a young and vibrant individual with an immense love for the depths of Norwegian black metal music, found herself wandering the streets of Oslo. Y/N had recently moved to the city, seeking new adventures and a fresh start. Upon noticing the sign which strongly reminded her of the Venom logo belonging to Helvete, she couldn't resist stepping inside. The door chimed as Y/N entered the record shop, greeted by the warm and inviting scent of aging vinyl. She marveled at the neatly arranged rows of records and couldn't help but feel an immediate connection to the place. Lost in the melodies that floated through the air, Y/N didn't notice Øystein's intense gaze as he observed her from behind the counter. He had a way of spotting genuine music lovers, and Y/N's energy resonated deeply with him, differencing her from the other posers who would step into the store from time to time. As Y/N made her way through the aisles, meticulously sorting vinyls and occasionally humming along to a tune, Euro couldn't help but be captivated by her presence. The way her eyes sparkled with excitement, the way her slim fingers danced delicately across the records, it all fascinated him. With a smile on her face she purchased multiple vinyls of Venom, Bathory and Dissection.

She left the store yet the thought of her beauty stayed. To Euro's surprise she came back, purchasing more vinyls.

Days after days she returned, and Y/N became a regular fixture at Helvete, much to Øystein's delight. They would engage in lively discussions about artists, albums, and the magic of music. Their conversations flowed effortlessly, a harmony of shared passions and budding connection.

One evening, as the sun cast a warm glow over the record shop, Euronymous couldn't contain his growing affection any longer. With a gentle smile, he approached Y/N, their eyes meeting in a moment of anticipation.

"You know,"

he began, his voice filled with vulnerability,

"I've been searching for an employee for this place. I've been searching for someone who understands the profound impact music can have on our lives. Would you like to work for me?"

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the unexpected offer, her gaze locked with Øystein's. Unable to contain her excitement, she eagerly accepted, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over her.

As Y/N began her new role at Helvete, she found herself immersed in a world of musical enchantment. Together with Euronymous, they spent countless hours organizing the records, discussing rare finds, and delving into the depths of the underground music scene. The more they worked side by side, the more they discovered the profound connection they shared.In the quiet moments between customers and the sound of vinyl spinning, Euronymous and Y/N engaged in deep conversations about their shared love for music, their dreams, and the mysteries of life such as the depths of satanism and the true evil hungering inside them.

Their thoughts intertwined effortlessly, forming a tapestry of understanding and intimacy.

As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, their relationship deepened. They became each other's confidants, trusting one another with their secrets and vulnerabilities. In the hallowed space of Helvete, their bond evolved beyond that of colleagues; it became a friendship forged in the fire of their shared passion.Yet, amidst the rhythmic beats of their growing friendship, a subtle undercurrent of something more began to surface. A flicker of attraction danced between them, both aware of the unspoken desires that lingered in their shared glances and lingering touches.

The chemistry that had sparked from their initial encounter continued to simmer, yearning to be explored.

One evening, after the shop had closed its doors, Euronymous and Y/N found themselves alone, surrounded by the echoes of music. In the soft glow of the dim lights, Euronymous looked into Y/N's eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. "Y/N, there's something, well uhh, fuck it" He uttered as he couldnt find the right words to admit to his feelings. In the end the instinct overtook and consumed him. As a result he grabbed the back of her head , bringing her lips up to his. Y/N's heart raced, her breath catching in her throat. The kiss hung in the air, pulsating with anticipation. With a mix of vulnerability and determination, she reached out, her hand finding Euronymous's, their fingers intertwining. while giving in to his lips, leaning in to deepen the intimacy they just commited to.In that moment, the barriers between them dissolved, and they surrendered to the undeniable chemistry that had simmered beneath the surface. Their lips met in a passionate kiss once again, igniting a fire that burned brighter than any record on the shelves. The world around them faded away as they explored the depths of their desire, their souls intertwining like a harmonious melody.

In that moment, the boundaries of Helvete blurred, and the music that surrounded them served as the backdrop to their love story.

As Øystein and Y/N shared an intense and passionate kiss after another, their connection grew stronger with each passing moment. Lost in the heat of the moment, Y/N's back accidentally bumped into one of the shelves in the vinyl store. The records rattled and shifted, momentarily breaking the spell of their embrace. But the interruption did little to deter their desire. Ignoring the commotion they had caused, their lips found each other once again, fueled by an undeniable chemistry that electrified the air around them. Her arms found their way behind his neck, pulling him closer, feeling his breath against her soft skin. The world outside ceased to exist as they surrendered themselves to the intoxicating dance of their intertwined souls. Euronymous couldn't help but slide down his cold slender hand down her torso, finding it's way under her shirt. Y/N froze as she felt his hand finding place at her left breast, drawing circles around her nipple. It gave Y/N goosebumps and shivers found their way down her spine. The action caused both of them to feel more aroused and their longing just fueled with lust even more with each passing moment.

However, just as their passion reached its peak, the sound of the door chime echoed through the shop, announcing the arrival of an unsuspecting customer. Startled, Øystein and Y/N quickly broke apart, their faces flushed with a mixture of desire and embarrassment.T

he customer, a middle-aged man with a bemused expression, walked in and glanced around, oblivious to the momentary indiscretion. Øystein, the consummate professional, composed himself and greeted the customer, while Y/N attempted to regain their composure.

As the customer browsed the shelves, Øystein and Y/N exchanged nervous glances, their hearts still racing from the intensity of their kiss. They realized they needed to act quickly to avoid any suspicion. Y/N discreetly adjusted her clothing, smoothing out the creases and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. With a newfound resolve, she joined Euro at the counter, ensuring that their actions betrayed nothing of their intimate encounter. The customer, seemingly unaware of the charged atmosphere, made a few purchases and left the shop, leaving Øystein and Y/N alone once again.

As the door closed behind the departing customer, a shared sense of relief washed over them. They exchanged a knowing smile, a silent acknowledgement of the powerful connection they had just experienced. It was a moment they would cherish, a memory woven into the fabric of their budding romance.

With a renewed sense of anticipation, Øystein and Y/N resumed their duties in the record shop, their fingers delicately handling the vinyls with a newfound tenderness. Their gaze lingered upon each other, a silent promise of more intimate moments to come, as they continued to explore the melodies of both music and love in the enchanting space of Helvete.

#mayhem #rory culkin #black metal #lord of chaos #depressing shit #depressiv #euronymous #fan fic stuff #fan fiction #fanfic #oystein aarseth #øystein aarseth #lords of chaos #xreader #euronymous x #rory culkin x reader

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mia-nina-lilly · 3 months

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Regarding Damen's innocence/ignorance:

We know that C.S. Pacat felt that Damen shouldn't have discovered why Laurent was so reserved about sex and so tense at the prospect, but taking a different approach, I would like to interpret the character, the way he thinks, because it's really frustrating to watch Damen not reach this conclusion after being informed that the Regent was a pedophile, and that Laurent had been alone - both in terms of family/friends, and other companions - all this time, with the Regent being his only guardian.

In my view, throughout Damen's perception of Laurent, the idea that the Prince of Vere was untouchable was consolidated, and I'm not just talking about the fact that Laurent doesn't lie with anyone, I'm actually talking about Laurent being someone inaccessible, extremely difficult to captivate or even defeat, and this in the eyes of anyone, even the most loyal men to the prince.

Damen truly believes that Laurent, being in the position of heir, and also being so astute and a remarkable warrior (the scene with the assassins in the room and many others show this to him clearly), and overly self-sufficient, is unattainable even to the Regent. That's his interpretation of Laurent. Therefore, when he sees him hesitate so much in the face of sex, it's more likely that he thinks all the tension stems, in truth, from the fact that Laurent struggles to let someone connect with him so intimately, so accustomed he is to solitude, and not some abuse, because Laurent is practically unscathed to him.

Sobre a inocência/ignorância de Damen em relação ao abuso de Laurent

Sabemos que C.S. Pacat sentiu que Damen não deveria ter descoberto o porquê de Laurent ser tão reservado em relação ao sexo e estar tão tenso na iminência do ato, mas indo por uma linha diferente, eu gostaria de interpretar o personagem, a forma como ele pensa, porque é realmente custoso assistir a Damen não chegar a essa conclusão depois de estar em posse da informação de que o Regente era pedófilo, e que Laurent esteve sozinho – tanto em relação à família/amigos, quanto outras companhias – todo esse tempo, sendo que o Regente era seu único tutor.

A meu ver, ao longo da construção da visão de Damen sobre Laurent, foi consolidada a ideia de que o príncipe de Vere era alguém intocável, e estou falando para além do fato de Laurent não se deitar com ninguém, estou falando, na verdade, de que Laurent era alguém inacessível, extremamente difícil de cativar ou ainda, derrotar, e isso aos olhos de qualquer um, até mesmo dos homens mais leais ao príncipe.

Damen realmente pensa que Laurent, estando na posição de herdeiro, e também por ser tão astuto e um guerreiro notável (cena dos assassinos no quarto e tantas outras mostram isso a ele de forma clara), e em demasia autossuficiente, é inatingível mesmo para o Regente. Essa é a interpretação dele sobre Laurent. Logo, quando ele o vê hesitar tanto diante do sexo, é mais certo que ele pense que toda a tensão é fruto, a bem da verdade, do fato de que Laurent tem dificuldade em deixar alguém se conectar a ele de forma tão íntima – tão acostumado ele está à solidão, e não algum abuso, porque Laurent é praticamente incólume para ele.

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totothewolff · 7 months

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Season of Love (1/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal, romance, comedy, and some good drama.

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you tell Toto: "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That's the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong? Author's note: Hi, fam! I'm nervous since this is my very first fanfic. I have been following this tag for a while now, and I got so inspired by all the talent here that I went and wrote my own story. Please be kind to me. English is my second language. I will upload chapters regularly - using this hashtag and on #seasonoflovefic. I have been dealing with anxiety the entire year; writing this has been part of my healing process. I hope you like it. By the way, this story is fun and light-spirited.

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Dances with Wolff Arc Chapter 1: Engines on and hearts off!

Bahrain

It is a hot and sunny day in Bahrain. Golden hour is set, and every single person in the paddock seems to be in a rush. It is the usual chaos every pre-season brings.

Toto makes his way through the sea of people, cables, tire carts, and cameras at his regular pace - which means those toned and long legs going full speed - rocking this year's Mercedes kit and a new pair of designer sunglasses, phone in hand when it buzzes.

—Breaking news: After lengthy negotiations during the break, the De Vos Group acquired Williams Racing - as speculated. New female owner Y/N De Vos will be joining the paddock this season. The team's principal will soon be announced. Check our exclusive first look with her.

Toto reads on his iPhone after tapping the Sky Sports push notification, slowing his pace a second. He raises an eyebrow and gazes around, noticing many people in the packed pitlane doing the same, slowing the frenzy on the floor for a close bit.

He reaches out for his pockets and puts on the Bose earbuds before hitting the play button. Curiosity is overpowering him - and, honestly, excitement, too - as he looks at the preview thumbnail. A stunning, tan-skinned woman with great, shiny hair and a beautiful smile appears in front of the microphone with a smug smirk.

—God, she's gorgeous —Toto lets out to himself. Continuing his way to the Mercedes garage. This year, it is located one spot before Williams and following Ferrari's.

Finally, something exciting, someone new. After years of dominating the game, trying not to sound too egomaniac, every season starts to feel like routine to him. Toto is hitting a personal low, avoiding calling it what it is: depression mixed with boredom, especially this season and at this moment in his life. Same old tracks, same old challenges, same old people, same old ways, same old Toto.

You answer the interviewer's questions with ease. You are very well-spoken in his eyes like you are used to doing press or public speaking, and you have a cheeky sense of humor. Toto gets captivated, to say the least. He puts his phone into his back pocket and continues walking while listening to your interview, muffling the paddock's noise.

You have a soft voice, a professional speech pattern, and excellent enunciation, reinforcing Toto's idea of you being trained at it. He detects some accent but can't figure out where it is from. He listens to the whole thing; it's impossible for him not to sigh at the stupid questions they ask you a couple of times. The more Toto listens, the more questions he has for you in his mind. He may get them answers later when he finally meets you.

So far, you seem like a breeze of fresh air, and Toto is desperate to breathe you.

And yeah, no question Williams looks different. Toto, as usual, ventures to inspect more than he should - and is allowed to - taking a good peek at your brand-new garage. Knowing quite well, he also is hoping to spot you in person.

The garage looks tech and minimalistic, matching your new modern W logo. Whites, blacks, and touches of grey colors predominated. The lighting, screens, and interior design look so futuristic, expensive, and dope; it's a whole vibe. It is a sexy garage! A phrase he never imagined using. What F1 has done to a man?

Toto can feel the desperate modernity Williams once needed and the resources. Of course, he knew firsthand the Williams family was looking to sell after years of struggling to win races and its economics. Toto remained neutral throughout the process, informed but not too involved. He had felt a little indifferent about the entire ordeal till now.

He hopes not to sound insensitive. Of course, he has a special place in his heart for that team and its people, he first started there, but the businessman side of him knows it is the right call and best for them. Of course, it's sad, but that is the game: evolve or die.

He knows his investment is in good hands because last he had heard, and in Niki's words, it got acquired by a Belgian zillionaire, and Niki reassured him it was a perfect choice. He was respectable and trustworthy, and Toto didn't need to know more. But this sudden change - and announcement - took him a bit by surprise. Little did he know.

Gossip and theories fill the paddock. Supporters and haters - already - are all over social media, typing divided opinions as usual. It is the talk of the town, and you, you are the center of it at this point; there is more to come.

Toto greets his team on his way to his chair, already inside Merc's garage after doing his little on-site research. A couple of pats on the back and hugs later, he makes himself comfortable in his spot while catching up with Bono.

Just as Toto is about to place the headphones on his head, the corner of his eyes caught Samanta, better known as "Sam" - a beautiful, thin, young, pale-skin, platinum blondie - Niki's assistant, hugging you goodbye and walking towards him.

You wave Niki hello from afar and on your way to the W garage.

For the briefest moment, Toto's eyes and yours met. You are more petite than he expects. And you dress very classy and minimal but with a sexy touch. You match the new identity of Williams, or well, Williams matches your style. The Jacquemus "La robe saudade" dress you wear hugs your curves, accentuating your beautiful toned legs and great ass. He couldn't avoid staring you down as you walked past. Sometimes, he was just a simple man.

Toto suddenly feels the Arabic heat rushing through his body.

—Getting up close with the enemy, tearing down its walls, I like your style, evil as I would expect from you —he says to Sam, now next to him, as she takes off her access badge and picks up her tablet from a drawer.

—Bok, dumb. No bad blood! Just a friendly welcome to this testosterone hell, you know, girls being supportive of one another. I'm pretty sure you will like her, and judging by that look you just gave her, I guess you already.

—Začepi, dumber —Toto answers in his usual authoritarian and collected deep voice, but jokingly. He feels his cheeks turning red. —Spill how, when…

—We were roomies a long time ago. I adore her, she's great, strong, intelligent, kind, fun, and so damn hot. That's all you need to know for now, and that's all I'm telling you.

Sam is the youngest daughter of the Dobrev heirs, a very wealthy and old-money Croatian - almost royal - family who owns multiple fleets and half the country, like filthy rich. They are famous for being all platinum blondes, having many scandals, and investing in motor and water sports. They are one of the main Mercedes-AMG sponsors.

As far as Toto knows, Sam doesn't have the best relationship with her family and dislikes talking about it, but he knows she cares a lot about her elder brother, to whom Toto hears her speak on the phone now and then.

After years and years of working and traveling the world together, Sam lets her walls down with Toto, becoming great friends and this sort of family away from family, although she remains pretty reserved on some subjects. He loves her like a little sister. She is pretty younger than him and sometimes reminds him of his own sister. Niki always describes them two as his annoying children, always teasing and bickering at each other when possible. The old man cares so much for them personally and at work, and they do, too.

Toto wonders if by "old roomie" she means ex-girlfriend? He has met some of Samanta's "roomies," and… Toto doesn't feel like pushing. He wonders if you may have someone... You know... As team principal, he has to learn about other teams' dynamics, right?

He tosses the thought off and gets in the zone. They have another title to win.

You hug Samanta goodbye and take a glance at the Merc garage. Sam is family to you, and you heard so much about them and F1 over the years, ever since she moved out of the Manor after having that massive fight with her parents and started working for Mercedes-AMG, swearing to make a living of her own and never needing them EVER again, a bit over dramatic reaction but that who Sam is and you love her that way.

She is also your bestie; you two text each other daily. Thanks to her, you knew everything about everyone in the paddock: the good and bad, scandals, and more. Yet they knew nothing about you. For them, you are brand new and the perfect excuse to gossip about.

And there he is, Torger Christian Wolff, the guy Sam couldn't stop gushing you about. Damn, she is right, Toto is gorgeous. You would feel slightly jealous of their closeness if he wasn't Sam's cup of tea. But you can't get distracted; you have a purpose for being there, and nothing will get in the middle. Even if you are dying to meet him, even if you treasure every detail you know about Toto, even if you have been fantasizing about him for the longest time, not to mention being half in love with the man already or the idea of him. Sam made him sound like such a remarkable and caring human being.

Niki waves hello to you from afar, and you wave back. You adore that old man. He is one of the reasons why the Williams family agreed to sell you the team. Without his support, it wouldn't have been possible.

You met Niki two winters ago; thanks to Sam, you explained to him your motives and why you wanted to buy a team, and he fully agreed to support you and mentor you throughout the whole process. He is a badass and one of the kindest people you have ever met. You immediately felt embraced by the Laudas. Along with Sam, they are among the very few people who know your entire story and genuinely know you, the real you.

Back to the present day. You feel Toto's dark eyes set on you and can't resist ignoring them even if your life depends on it, so you look back at him. For the briefest moment, your eyes met. The desert is too hot, isn't it? Uff, what's going on with this heat? Damn you global warming!

So you better hurry yourself away before it is too late and you dare to get closer to him. You reach your new team's garage at the speed of light, so it is fittable for the place you are at. It feels weird saying "your" so much.

Everything is so different from the world you are used to, but you don't feel nervous. You are a woman on a mission, and after all you have gone through in life, you are not that kind of girl. You bear a challenge.

You greet your team. —He hasn't arrived yet? —you ask the aero performance engineer while he is placing green and yellow dots on the left side of the new car. You reached close to inspect the latest upgrades.

The car is beautiful, matte black with a powerful Lamborghini engine. They are your main sponsor and partner and the only one, which is insanely impressive. No million logos, no visual noise - it is something to see due to F1 budgets.

Commotion and gasps come from the outside. While you ask the engineer that question, a frenzy starts in the front of the garages. You watch camerapersons and fans pass by, running crazy. Total mayhem.

Oh, there he is.

Toto's phone buzzes again - in the middle of that circus - "Breaking news; The legend is BACK. Michael Schumacher joins Williams as Team Principal, son Mick Schumacher, and the sensation of the moment, female driver Millie Dobrev joins him along as drivers."

The FIA, in its many attempts to be perceived as "forward" or "woke," has allowed for the first time mixed-gender racing, starting this season - about damn time! Millie is one of the top female drivers and the youngest, achieving a lot at a young age and becoming a serious threat to everyone on her way.

—Dobrev… Dobrev?! —Toto looks from the photo on his phone screen to Sam and back; a very young petite girl - with sun-kissed skin, short platinum blonde hair with pink ends and clear blue eyes, a round face with delicate features - poses in a pastel color outfit doing a Korean heart gesture with her hands, fingers full of expensive jewelry. —Care to explain?

—Yes, did I mention she's my dear niece? —Sam answers, deadpan.

—The fuck —Toto says —Are all blond Croatians your family? —Toto teases.

—Hilariously accurate —she laughs it off.

—Your niece?! You are like twelve, how old is she, two!? Can't believe you are an aunt already. I don't know what to do with that fact..."

Samanta rolls her eyes. "Thank my gross old uncle with a young trophy wife?" she thinks.

—So you keep secrets from me, huh? I thought ours was special.

—You give yourself too much importance. And yes, that's why my hair grew bigger during the break. It's full of secrets! —Sam replies. Swinging her long, straight locks.

—What??? —Toto doesn't get her Mean Girls reference.

—Sometimes I forget you are prehistoric, almost fossil.

They both fulminate each other with gazes in a classic and frequent stare-down. Then Sam proceeds to cross tasks on her tablet, slowly stepping away.

—Don't you dare run away from me! You have things to explain, missy.

—Sorry, I'm so busy right now, unlike you.

—I'm busy.

—No, you are not; you are trying to gossip!

—I'm always busy. I'm this team's principal, to remind you, so yes, I'm important, and maybe… maybe… I'm trying to gossip… a little bit —Toto gestures with his hand.

—Could you two stop?! —Niki calls it quits, half annoyed, half laughing, struggling to hear clearly what the tactics team is trying to tell him, turning around on his barstool and waving his hand at them.

Toto and Sam laugh softly, and Toto makes a small O with his mouth while Sam pretends to adjust her invisible tie before returning to business and being professional people doing professional tasks.

Toto looks once more at his phone screen. —Impressive —it's all he lets out. Toto can't wait. He can't wait.

It's been a long time since Michael set foot on the paddock, after years of being retired and living almost exclusively to recover - after his infamous accident - and trying to enjoy being a father and a husband when possible. He became this mythical figure that existed in F1 and people's minds but is nowhere to be seen, making him feel like a ghost. Nowadays, he is doing way better but was getting bored of being a recluse at home waiting for the right moment, for that one sign that make it all start over for him.

And there she is, in front of him, doing a fake courtesy.

—Welcome back, Kaiser —you joke with him.

—Hi, boss! —Michael greets you with a thick German accent and sweet voice. —Sorry about that! —He pushes you aside as a photographer flashes photos. The lens almost hits you in the face while two other cameramen bump into each other. —Better if we go inside. There's lots to talk about and to get ready to start testing. This is bonkers! —he finishes saying, looking at the circus surrounding you two.

—Okay. Let's go then, Schumi —you reply to him.

You feel ready.

The testing goes out smoothly for Mercedes. There are just a few sensor improvements and small details to fix, but only a little to worry about. Lewis and George seem happy with their car's performance, and the team feels optimistic.

As for Toto, his day was stressful; he felt exhausted after many meetings and people asking him questions all day, demanding his attention at all times. The hours went at an alarming speed. Somehow, the day is done, but the amount of work has just started. He blinks and is dark already, and the chauffeur is now driving him to his suite in a high-end hotel.

Tomorrow is a crucial day for the team, and his schedule is full of press, too. So he needs a good night of beauty sleep; at the moment, he looks like trash and feels like it. Toto likes to keep it real. He loves the attention of being under the reflectors and calling the shots but still isn't a massive fan of media day.

Speaking of the devil, he takes out his phone and opens his news app. Toto relaxes in the big luxury car seat. He has bookmarked several sites that cover F1, his long, unhealthy habit. He likes to stay current, even if he has "briefing" and a person in charge of doing that.

Even though he doesn't want to feel like a stalker, he pretty much is acting like it. Toto refreshes the app to read the latest news about Williams and you. He learns all he can of you from the newly released press articles; there is little about your background, past, or in general; all he keeps reading appears to be PR-approved since it is constantly reprised on different platforms, which feels weird.

Google doesn't offer him much either, just a couple of articles with photos in which you appear in various charity events related to children's foundations. It is like you don't exist online.

Toto reads your most recent interview and Michael's, and you both appear in good spirits about your car performance. He hates losing but loves a good challenge. A good old-fashioned on-track battle. For a change.

The bellboy opens the suite's double doors for him and carries Toto's things inside. It is a massive entrance and makes him feel tiny in comparison. Toto notices a small LV suitcase in front of the large door, next to a big antique wooden carved table, in the middle of the foyer under the soft dim coming from a stunning Tiffany's chandelier, which lits the room and reflects on the exquisite tile walls. The Arabic architecture and interior design of the place are breathtaking.

It means Susie has stopped by. Their relationship is in a weird spot, in one of those hiccups they face occasionally after dating forever and from a very young age. Their relationship at the moment feels monotonous, and love is lacking, which is slowly killing him. He still loves her very much but could sense he is losing her. Especially since they started seeing each other less and less - although he wouldn't blame anyone who has to bear with his crazy schedule - they almost stopped texting and talking to each other, too, and sex is nonexistent. So many red flags.

—Hi, schatzi —Toto greets her.

—Hi, Toto —she gives him a quick kiss. —You look tired.

—I am, but I'm happy you are here —he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his temple on hers. Soon after, he lifts Sussie from the ground into a tight hug. There is a clear height difference.

—I know. I'm happy to see you too, even if it's for a brief moment. I was hoping you got free sooner. Our jet has permission to take off in an hour exactly.

—I'm sorry, today was crazy —Toto apologizes.

—I can imagine. I tried to communicate with you earlier, but it was impossible to reach you; it was almost like you were avoiding me.

God, she knows him so well. Yes, he has been avoiding her - although not today, he honestly had a crazy day - but since they had that awkward and hurtful conversation at their New Year's Eve reception at their house in Oxford. Not because he is angry at her or scared, he misses her a lot. It's just he has been unable to decide and come up with an answer to the situation.

—I wanted to clear things out between us before the start of the season. I'm aware that from now on, you only get busier and more challenging to reach, and my schedule this year is also insane, Sussie says.

—Yes, love. Tell me what you need?

—Your thoughts.

—On what? —Toto pretends to be confused and not get what she is referring to.

—Come on, Torger. Would you like me to remind you of our last conversation at New Year's?

Silence.

The last time they saw each other in person was months ago. He panicked after that conversation and left for Austria, calling it a business trip and a visit to his sister to spend time with his nephews. She didn't follow him around. Because it was clear he was running away and needed time alone without her.

—So... as I mentioned to you that night... You wanted to try for children this year, and I let you know I didn't see that happening this year or any year. And that I have been feeling increasingly lonely since you spent most of your days away. Honestly, every day, we spend more time away from each other. My career keeps taking off, and I'm not raising children on my own amidst it! I can't even imagine the idea of being pregnant to start with! Plus, you said there's no way you are quitting your job, and I'm neither, so...

—I didn't say that. That's not how it went —Toto feels his head hurting now. He rubs his forehead, exasperated hearing Sussie's Director's Cut version of the events. "It went more like this: I don't get your full attention at all times like before, I'm not able to control you as I once did, and every time you ask me to spend time together, me traveling to you or you traveling to me, if it's not the way I want it I always come up with something to avoid it. Plus, I never mentioned to you before that I didn't want children, not once in the thousand times we discussed family and raising kids together, ah! And I always blame your job as the reason why things aren't working between us." That's how it happened, Toto thinks.

—The point is... —Sussie ignores him. Throwing him a look. —We didn't reach a middle ground but chose not to break things off immediately because none of us felt sure.

There is a pause and a big exhale from her.

—That's why I suggested exploring having an open relationship. We would establish rules and limits. I know you are more traditional and don't envision this for us, but I wanted you to think about it and give it a chance, not to run away and avoid me after suggesting it. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be with someone else behind your back because I still love you, and I want us to work. I feel we both need someone who is present in our lives to touch us and hold us when we feel like it.

Toto feels crushed. All he wants is to settle down, start a family, and become a good father - as his father was to him - he never expected Sussie to go in the opposite direction. His intention has never been to make her choose between a career or kids. This isn't the case. It is going to be a two-person job. Besides that, they have all the privileges, resources, and support to successfully achieve being both parents and having careers simultaneously. —This isn't the right moment for this conversation. I had an...

—It's never the right moment for you! Christ's sake, Toto! I..! —Sussie starts losing it and gets emotional. He can't avoid feeling miserable. Suddenly, Toto felt the day's weight on his shoulders and back, which was killing him now; he needed a soft mattress to lay down so desperately. He doesn't want to make the drama bigger.

—Okay, easy, love —he hugs her. —I will think about it and give you an answer this week.

—You promise? Won't you run away from it anymore?

—I promise. I won't.

—This week, Toto! —Sussie wipes her tears, hugs him once more, and kisses him goodbye. —Let me know.

—Yes, this week. I will.

She grabs her suitcase and exits through the doors. Toto drags himself to bed with the remains of his energy, tosses his phone on the wireless charger nightstand, and lets himself drop on the mattress, face down. As he drifts away, a new notification red dot appears in the news app.

Now, an open relationship looks like an acceptable idea.

He falls asleep.

The view from your suite is impressive. Bahrain's entire skyline of modern skyscrapers is lit under the night skies, and the desert surrounding it looks beautiful through the floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows.

It isn't your first time in Western Asia, but your first time traveling so far from home on your own. This hotel is insanely expensive, and the suite is humongous for you by yourself. If you weren't so used to inhabiting a massive, almost empty Manor with you as your own company, you would have felt anxious in such an isolated, huge, and quiet space.

It is already late at night to text Samanta and meet her to chat. You both have work tomorrow and need to rest. But you have so much to catch up on - since yesterday? - No, but seriously, a lot had happened during your first day at the paddock.

As you are relaxing in the bathtub - you chose a bath bomb made of sea salt soap and local herbs with delicious scents - you let your mind go through all the day's events. You can't stop thinking of that pair of dark eyes going all over your body. You wanted to do the same. You wanted to admire him all.

You have created many scenarios of what it would be like to meet him. But it went so differently than what you pictured. He doesn't even know who you are or doesn't even care about you. You two could become friends in the future, but for now, your feelings for him are all over the place, and you don't wish to let your heart shatter, not again. Besides, he has Sussie - of course, you have no idea what those two are going through - and you, well, who would want to be with you and your whole "situation"? Your chances with him are zero minus a hundred.

You do your skincare routine before sending yourself to bed - for sure, you will be visiting the hotel's spa in the following days - already dreading tomorrow, a day full of meetings and interviews, you are slightly nervous about what the press is going to ask you, even if Michael does the heavy lifting for you in those matters, everyone seems so curious about you.

You turn the lights off and pray for a good night of sleep, free of the frequent nightmares you experience.

The following day, the driver's parade happens inside walls, while all drivers gather together in a small meeting room - a very office-looking space with sad, white-empty walls, gray carpeting, and way too lit up. Cold lighting is the worst! No F1 glamor on sight - this is part of one of the new progressive and "brilliant" ideas from the FIA.

Chaos is unleashed as everyone looks for a chair with their name tag.

—Did everyone see her? —Lando asks loudly to the entire room - filled at the moment just by drivers - He is sitting backward in his chair, on the front row, facing the rest. He is wearing his McLaren kit and cap, which is worn backward.

—Yes, we all did. Unless you live under a rock, you have missed that circus, but coming from you, it wouldn't surprise me —Checo answers, joking.

Lando purposely ignores him and throws him a dirty look and a kiss. —Then, ladies… From 1 to 10, how hard would you bang her? Starting with you, Seb —he asks everyone.

—Seriously, mate? So… sexist… —Vettel answers.

—Come on, bee-guy. What? It's just friendly chit-chat among us drivers, as the FIA would love to remind us, "This meeting's purpose is to establish communications between all teams drivers, their principals, along with the FIA representatives to build relationships and sportsmanship among-"

—Stop reading from the sign, idiot —Carlos says, following Lando's gaze to the sad poster pin crooked on the open door.

—Fine, but let's be honest here: she's the most exciting thing to happen to us in a while, not to mention the most recent. It's not like we are going to admire new guy Yuki's hips. All here have excellent vision, and she looked so FINE like you pervs didn't notice.

—Speak for yourself —Pierre answers jokingly, coming through on his way to his chair, passing in front of Lando in that reduced space, trying not to step on someone. Everyone laughs.

—She is so out of your league anyway; why bother? —Max mentions from the corner, sitting stretched out, his back against the wall, legs on top of the chair beside him. —And I agree with Pierre, Yuki's hips are immaculate, by the way.

—If someone cares, I think my vision is starting to fail me. I will need glasses soon —Nando jokes.

—Don't you worry, abuelo! It's just you getting even more ancient —Pato adds.

—I thought this meeting was for drivers? I mean real ones —Alonso jokes back.

—Oh, mate, low punch! I saw some of her interviews on telly; she is cheeky —George adds, drinking from a Merc bottle and standing near the door.

—Couldn't sound more British if you tried —Bottas adds.

—He is your Royal Highness, Prince George —Lewis jokes.

—More like your Royal Ass-ness —Leclerc adds amidst laughs.

—I saw her interviews too! It's like Ricciardo got female, but was actually funny and hot —Lando replies.

—Fuck you, mate —Daniel answers, laughing. —You know, she could breastfeed you.

—I wouldn't mind —Lando kids, hitting Dani - sat beside him - on the ribs with his elbow. Today, he is set to act like a naughty boy.

—Lando!! —four drivers say in unison, in shock.

—You're so gross, mate, I swear —Lewis adds simultaneously, palm on his face, half laughing, half wanting to rip his own ears off.

—I'm pretty sure that would be so illegal. I don't want to go to jail, Mr. Officer! —you say, entering through the door. Everyone turns to look at you. You overhear that part of the conversation; it doesn't feel mean-spirit. Then Lando's face matches the red color on Charles' shirt as he slowly turns around on his chair and sits - the proper way - quiet and still. It's a hilarious scene.

—I'm not into minors, but I could change your diaper and read you some bedtime stories to make you fall asleep. "The Little Orange Tin" you would love —you joke to break off the tension.

Michael follows you inside, laughing under his breath. You two take your seats and start chatting casually, two places away. You are seated next to Lewis - to your right - and to an empty chair with no tag to your left by the end of the row.

You are already a fan of Lewis. And again, you know so much about him because of Sam. Now, he is her favorite person on earth. You feel slightly hurt by that fact, but he sounds lovely, so honestly, it doesn't bother you.

—Hi, I'm Lewis —he offers you a fist bump.

—Hi, Lewis. I'm Y/N

—How is F1 treating you? All good? —Sebastian asks you, popping out from Lewis's right. Both their attention to you. Heavens, those are some beautiful eyes. You can't figure out if they are green or blue, but you don't want to stare too long.

Sebastian's actual chair is next to Charles, some rows at the front, but he sits next to Lewis because he feels like it. Messing the order. An anarchist at heart.

—All good, thank you —you answer. —It's been chaotic, but I'm enjoying it. And I'm eager for the first race.

—Me too. I always miss driving during breaks —Lewis tells you.

—I agree —Seb adds. —It is the best feeling in the world, so it's hard to let go.

Then Millie enters the room - pink cat-ears headphones on, rocking the new Williams kit: A minimalistic stretchy sports jersey, a white tee with black seams, and the W logo in black print at the center of the chest. It is a fully fitted silhouette with a high neckline and short sleeves, paired with some sleek black sports slacks.

Michael and you point Millie to the chair next to Michael - with her name tag - she gets there fast and takes off one side of her headphones.

—What up! —Millie greets. —Hi, Sebs!, Hi Lew! —she says extra sweetly and high-pitched tone, waving a hand while facing them. That girl is like a walking cartoon. She looks extra petite and young among those guys.

—Hi, Millie!!! —both of them answer in unison, with the same sweet-pitched tone. It's a cute moment.

Then, the room starts to fill up. And the FIA representative enters, meaning the meeting is about to begin.

A very rushed Mick gets in, also wearing the team's kit. Millie raises a hand and waves it, catching his attention. He moves very fast to his seat. And behind him enters Mattia and Toto, chatting with each other.

Holy shit. The fact that Toto would be there didn't cross your silly mind. And since Seb swapped chairs. The one where he sat belonged to Toto. So the chair next to you is empty and available for the Austrian. You see Mattia sit on the last free spot at the front, and Toto glances around, confused, till he spots the space to your side. You see him walk towards you almost in slow motion. And you set your mind to "if I pretend to not notice him, it means he's not there."

You sense him sitting only inches from you, his arm skin almost touching yours. While you keep your eyes locked straight ahead, point to the FIA guy without daring to move. He stretches while trying to adjust himself to a comfortable position. He is tall and muscular, and these chairs are a joke. His knee moves dangerously close to yours. For a moment, you see the inevitable contact coming. And your heartbeat starts to rise. But it doesn't happen. Damn, he smells so good! How on earth are you to get focus?

And then the meeting begins.

The whole thing is lame. You and Lewis laugh several times at Seb's under-his-breath comments and jokes about what is happening right at the moment. The German has excellent timing and good puns and one-liners. Those two seem like besties, Lewis being the "serious" of the pair; go figure!

The open mic section starts and the FIA guy offers the microphone around. Lewis instantly and discreetly crosses an arm over Seb's hands, and Vettel raises his eyebrows. —Freedom of speech, much? —Sebastian jokes.

—What are you going to ask? Seriously? —Lewis tells him.

—I have a genuine question!

—Why I don't believe you.

—Like why? You don't trust me?

—Oh, I do, but...

—But then... let me grab the mic.

Lewis lets out a sigh. Seb raises a hand, now free from Lewis's grip. And the microphone goes to him.

—Check, check —The entire room pays him attention. —Ahm, I have a question for you all.

—Yes, please, go ahead —The poor FIA guy looks overly excited that someone cares enough to say something. Most of them, not to say all of them, look forced to be there, bored, and by that point, so done with this meeting.

—Gentlemen, a short view back to the past. Thirty years ago, Niki... —The more he talks, the louder everyone laughs. Michael loses it. Sebastian recites the whole thing by heart.

What an icon.

The FIA guy couldn't look more confused.

You hear Toto's laugh for the first time; he has been sitting there quietly this entire time. You briefly and occasionally feel his gaze set on you, but you don't dare to turn, look, or talk to him. You know very well that any moment of weakness from you means your doom. Back to Toto's laugh. What is that heaven-sent sound? You want more. How can you get more? Can someone get addicted to a sound?

—Blimey, I knew it! —Lewis lets out, shaking his head and also smiling.

With that question, it is clear the meeting has ended.

As everyone is getting on their feet, you feel Toto purposely caressing his arm against yours as he gets on his feet and then walks to the exit without looking back at you. Your eyes follow him around till you lose sight. Sweet baby Jesus, those toned arms.

Race day arrives.

The Sahkir circuit is a whole party, and the atmosphere is to the roof. All drivers get in position after the entourages move quickly out of the way. The chaos on the track dissipates within seconds.

Then, after the formation lap, the red lights turn off, and the violent roars from the engines fill your ears. Oh, what a sound, now you are addicted to it.

After a great start from your team and almost two hours later, Lewis and Millie face down in a back-to-back battle. Switching positions 3 times in the final ten laps. It is a monumental effort from the drivers, teams, and their strategies. Emotions are on edge at the pitlane and at the benches.

Millie crosses the line first, less than half a second ahead, and fireworks go up in the air. Fans roar, and you all go nuts! Your crew runs to the pit wall fence, climbing it up and waving as she passes by, lots of fist pumps onto the air. It's your first podium! Your? Like you did something, lol. Your team gets their first podium!! - better - it is a great start. And for the first time in forever, you feel alive and cheerful.

Amidst hugs and pats on the back from crew members and supporters, you make your way to the podium area, following Michael. He is dragging you along; you are in a blur with all that adrenaline rushing through your veins, the noise, the lights, and the crowds.

During the podium ceremony, when the Croatian anthem plays - you are now surrounded by all three teams' entourages, all watching the ceremony together and supporting their driver - you notice Millie getting emotional. It is a first for her, too. And when it finishes, everyone around you starts cheering and clapping like maniacs for her as she raises and kisses the trophy.

Michael, right next to your side, takes off his white W cap before Millie, and she gestures a praying sign with her hands from high above the podium to thank him and thank you. You blow her a kiss just before rivers of champagne fill the place.

Millie is the sweetest. You felt a genuine connection from the first moment you met her - a couple of months ago at the new Williams headquarters - before she agreed to sign the deal. She trusts you, and you believe in her. So you are on this journey together and feel so happy for her.

You get so distracted by these thoughts and others, too, that you don't notice the place started to empty. When you return to reality, you turn around to leave, following Michael's steps, and almost crash into someone walking in the opposite direction. You are left facing a very nice-looking chest - mere inches away from your face - wearing a white Mercedes shirt. You raise your gaze from those fine pecs that belong to Toto and look at his handsome face.

—Hi... —He says, looking down at you, he is way taller than you.

—H-h...i —You feel weak on the knees.

—I-I..

—I... I'm.

You both say at the same time. You step to the left, and Toto steps to the left synchronously.

—Sor..ry-y.

—So-rry.

You both keep talking over each other. So Toto moves aside, gesturing with his hand to let you go through first.

—Nice meeting you —you say calmly and quickly rush away.

—Same —he replies, following you with his gaze and watching you walk away. You feel he wants to say more, and you do, too, but it is better this way.

"What the fuck was that. Why on earth were you so nervous, girl? It was like you forgot how to speak!" You think.

"The fumes in the garage are starting to affect me," Toto thinks. "Is she running away from me? Yeah... The fumes are definitely affecting me. Damn, she walks fast."

Australia

Thanks to poor scheduling and the worst jet traffic, Michael and you aren't able to land on time. All tracks are being used at the moment, so you get sent to another terminal further away from the circuit. Qualy for the Australian GP is about to start, and obviously, you two are running late.

A Lamborghini Sian car is already waiting for you when you land. So you ask the chauffeur to toss the car keys to Michael. —We have like ten minutes to be there —you tell Schumi.

—Understood, boss.

You instantly regret phrasing it like that. Schumi is driving like a madman while getting directions from the chauffeur in the backseat. Michael pushes the engine to the limit, and the car goes full speed. You feel your body melting with the car seat as you hang for your dear life to the seatbelt. Ten minutes was a say, you didn't truly mean it, let's try another one: To get there alive if possible, this one you meant it.

Michael enters the staff parking lot at the Melbourne circuit by taking an extreme corner still at full force. The two security guys sprint to open the gates; it is that or get run over.

Once you get in, you see him letting the wheel go a second, and the car starts spinning around - it twirls at an alarming speed. "Am I going to get projected out of this window?" you think. And in just one wild movement, he parallels parks, tires burning. The Fast and Furious stunts were a kid's play next to his. Everyone stares at the scene, astounded.

—9.48.00 minutes, boss —Schumi says. Turning off the engine while checking his Rolex Daytona.

He was insane for this.

—Well, I hope you are as fast on your feet as you were on this car —You joke, grabbing your purse and access badge while getting out of the vehicle, heels hitting the ground like nothing had happened. Because, above everything, you are a bad bitch.

—Are you? —he dares you. Walking past the front of the car, catching your step.

—Haven't you seen my legs?! —You joke. Toned they are.

—You make the 100-meter dash athletes jealous —He jokes back.

You are going to get so many fines. So many.

You two make it to the W garage on time. You "fashion walk" there, according to the people who mock you. Since you don't feel like blending in with the mechanics - and because of your outfits and looks. The Williams garage is located dead last on the pitlane, so you have to walk in front of all other teams' garages to get there every time - expensive bag-swinging in the air, designer heels clacking on the floor, always wearing a chic something; dresses, shorts, skirts - as if they don't enjoy it! Of course, you expected toxic masculinity and sexism on your way, especially since your team is dominating! But not this early on.

—You are late! —Millie jumps at you.

—Let's not talk about it. I'm going to need therapy, thanks to that experience.

—What?! —She looks at you with a funny face.

—Nevermind. All ready?

—Do I look like ready? —She says, gesturing at herself. She is wearing an oversized lilac tee - at least twice her size - and a white tennis mini-skirt with matching white Jordans.

She follows you to the dressing rooms right across from your remote office, where you quickly leave your purse and stuff inside. As you two get there, Millie tells you how excited she is that Sanrio offered to design her helmet for Suzuka before going to change.

—What do you think? Is it too much? —she asks you. Inviting you into her custom dressing room and pointing around. It looks like Minisio had puked that room out.

—Is very you! —you answer.

—I know, right!!! —she gives you a big dumb smile.

—Are your boobs out? —Mick asks while entering through her dressing room doors - eyes closed, arms extended in front, walking mummy-like - not seeing you there, obviously.

—What?! No! —Millie answers as Loretta (her trainer slash assistant) finishes suiting her up.

—Great! I can open my eyes then! —he says.

—I don't think there's much to see, Mick —Millie jokes while putting on a sad face and looking down at her chest. —Two lemons, barely.

—I don't think Marc from statistics thinks the same. I saw him trying to find them —He jokes. Mick gains a smack on the arm.

Millie's popularity has skyrocketed; she is already a paddock favorite. By this point, she had already rejected three engineers who asked her out - not because of ego, being rude, or wanting to break hearts - but because she is so clueless and a shy dork with zero social skills, in her own words: "I communicate better with cars and engines than with people, at least I know how to work them."

—Kids, kids! —you say, amused at the scene.

—Oh, hi, boss! I didn't notice you there —Mick looks at you, a bit embarrassed.

—No worries —You are glad those two are getting along well.

Mick drops himself on the fluffy pink oval puff in one of the corners. One leg up.

—Why are you here on my land? —Millie asks.

—Oh yeah. I came to say something —Mick adds like he is just remembering. —Yes! My father is waiting for you two to start the team's meeting. Everyone is there already. It's urgent. So hurry.

—Oh god, and you just let us know now.

The three of you get on your feet real fast.

After a good team catch-up and an impeccable motivational speech from Michael, all of you get to your positions inspired and ready to give it all.

As the Qualy starts, you turn to Michael. —You are a great leader, you know? We are lucky to have you —you tell him.

—I'm glad to be here, more than you imagine, boss.

Millie secures a pole position. Sparks flyed. Damn, that car was fast, and she, she was faster!

When the workday is done, you wait for Sam across from Merc's hospitality. It's getting dark.

You are sitting on a bench a few meters away, next to a tree with beautiful yellow flowers, looking at your phone and minding your business, avoiding looking like a threat near competitors' territory.

—Waiting for Sam? —Toto asks you from the other side - at the bottom of the stairs of their main cafeteria entrance - you raise your gaze at the sound of his voice.

—Yes! Hi! Will she be taking long? —You can't avoid smiling at him and sound slightly nervous.

—No, she is on her way, but I must warn you, she's been insufferable the entire day. She had one of those, what she calls it? A bad ha...

—A bad hair day —you both finish in unison. —Yikes! How bad it was? The hair? I mean.

—Oh, terrible! I had to look at it all day —he answers jokingly, putting an ew face. Toto walks towards you and sits on the bench by your side, stretching his legs and resting one on top of the other.

The truth is, Samanta doesn't have naturally straight locks; she has long, curly hair she straightens. And sometimes, some days, some weather gave her that wavy, frizzy, wild, non-combable hair.

—You are such an inspiration, a true survivor. Tell me all about your journey —You make him laugh, you love that. More, please.

The door interrupts you two as you both smile at each other like dumbs and lock eyes. Sam goes out, black Merc hoodie on, covering almost her entire face, overdramatic as usual.

—Rocking the Palpatine? —you tease her.

—Hilarious. Bad hair day. I look like Monica Geller on that trip to the beach beneath this —she says with sarcasm. Toto laughs. —Ah, now that reference you get —Sam rolls her eyes.

—Jezz, that mood, huh? A few drinks will get you through these dark times, my friend. Let's go! —you add.

—Oh no, I'm not going.

—What?! Why?! Why are you like this, Samanta?!

—No, why is humidity a thing? Who needs it?

—Aem, all of Australia's wildlife? —Toto adds.

—Shut up, smarty pants —Sam lets out.

—You look like Hagrid —he replies.

—Torger, don't test me, I swear —she warns him, fingers rubbing her forehead.

—So, when will you be available then? —you ask her, cutting off the bickering.

Sam opens her weather app to check the humidity levels. —Ahm, like next week? Not in Australia?

—Are you serious, dude?! I already booked! —You two were going to that Michelin star blindfolded dining and drinking experience. It was so on trend that booking a table there was Melbourne's most challenging and expensive thing at the moment.

—Sorry, I'm not going out looking like this! But for sure Toto could join you! He desperately needs to get some of that stress out of his system. He's getting meaner.

—What!? Me, the meaner one? —Toto lets out.

—What?! Sam! No, no. He is probably busy, and I don't want to bo... —you add, quickly, getting nervous while trying not to show it.

She interrupts you.

—Busy?! No, he is just in an antisocial mood swing. Toto barely left his office today! All grumpy, he was inside there. Besides, didn't you, my guy, tell me you were going straight to your hotel to lock yourself and binge-watch Love Island while eating ice cream straight from the bucket? —Sam teases him, well aware Toto is feeling low - more like heartbroken - Sam hates Sussie, but of course, she will never admit it publicly, and definitely not to him. This is her weird way of showing him her support by setting him up to go out and have fun with a great person instead of being miserable and all alone. Classic Sam.

—What? No. What's Love Island? I wasn't being antisocial; I had a ton of work today, unlike you —He answers deadpan.

—Do you even own a TV? —Sam is seriously curious.

—Of course, I do! Several, in fact —It doesn't mean he watches them.

—You must be rich! —you joke. He smiles.

—Yeah, whatever. Come on! Get to know each other! Have a good time on me and my hair's behalf —Sam grabs you both, each by the arm, and walks you towards the exit.

—Is it me, or is she getting worse with age? —You address Toto.

—No question!

—Hey! You can't trash-talk me! —Sam complains.

—Oh, that's all we will be doing; we are going to talk so much trash about you, piles of it, that the garbage collector will plead to us no more —you mock her.

—I'm hating this already! —Sam crosses her arms.

Well, now you have a date with Toto. A date, yeah, in your dreams.

To be continued... < Masterlist | Next chapter >

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snorky · 2 months

Text

I Won't See You Tonight

Hey y’all! I hope you are doing well and blessed, and I hope this angsty Alex Holtz story is enjoyable to read. My sister recommended the idea of Holtzy as a mechanic and I ran with it. The title is from a song by Avenged Sevenfold, which was lingering around in my head for a long while. Something something along the lines of comfort, angst, and a thing or two about needing to take care of someone. Speaking of which, I hope you all enjoy this fic, and remember to take care of yourself!

Pairing: Alexander Holtz x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Angst, Self-deprecation (self-bad talk), Comfort, Alcohol Consumption (of legal age), Mild jealousy (let me know if I need to add anything)

—

“Crap, crap, crap!”

Her car slowed down to a halt, spitting and sputtering as she pulled over to the side of the long, empty road. Turning off her engine, she clasped her hands at the top of the steering wheel and rested her forehead against it, irked by the fact that she had work within a few hours.

The hot summer sun didn’t seem to help, quickly turning her, apparently now unreliable, car into a miniature oven. It hadn’t had any previous or any notable issues that would hinder the aging process of the car, but apparently something was off.

Stepping out of the car, she checked her surroundings, and sure enough, not a car in sight. She pulled her phone out from her pocket, sighing in relief that she still had data on her phone, and searched up the phone number for the nearest auto shop.

The dial tone could be heard one moment, and the next was a voice, of what she assumed to be, the voice of the front desk worker for the auto shop.

“Hello, welcome to Dave’s Auto, how can we help you today?”

“Yeah, uhm–” She paced around the side of her car nervously for a brief second before continuing. “My car broke down on the side of Earl road. Do you think that you could send out some help by chance?”

He chuckled at her, but in a lighthearted way. “By chance? Ma’am of course we can help you. One of our guys will be there in about five minutes tops.”

She thanked him and hung up the phone, sliding it back into her pocket. Walking around the car, she tried to analyze and see if there was anything visibly wrong with the car from the outside.

Unfortunately for her, she couldn’t notice anything significant, and so her next thought was to check under the hood of the car. The engine seemed to look normal, and the oil didn’t have any odd coloration.

Everything seemed to be normal, and so she stood near the front of her car, waiting for one of the mechanics to arrive.

After a few minutes, a blueish tow truck with the auto shop’s logo could be seen driving closer to her, and she gave herself a lopsided smile of relief, and yet irritation from her car breaking down.

The truck parked and came to a stop in front of her car, allowing for easy access to actually move the car onto the platform.

“Hey, this your car?”

The man that stepped out the car was decently tall, wearing gray coveralls as his work uniform, and had wavy brown hair. As he stepped closer to her, she noticed his eyes, which seemed to captivate her the most.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” she laughed nervously.

He turned his attention to her after taking a quick look at her car, and smiled warmly. “You don’t gotta say sorry, miss. It’s my job,”

Hooking the car onto the tow truck, he fiddled with a pen and a notepad for a few moments before motioning for her to follow him.

Pausing, she looked at him nervously for a brief moment, and he read her expression before quickly apologizing. “Sorry, I should’ve asked, do you want a ride back to the auto shop or do you have someone picking you up?”

“Oh.” Her face flushed up in embarrassment for assuming that he was being odd, but was just offering a helping hand. “Yes I need a ride, sorry—” She quickly tried to read the name that was embroidered onto his coveralls. “Holtz?”

He opened the door to the passenger side of the truck, allowing her to get in. “Yeah, that’s my last name,” he smiled. “You can call me Alex though, promise.”

She smiled back at him, “Thank you so much for helping me with my car then, Alex”

His face warmed up a little, enjoying how her voice spoke his name so, perfectly. He got into the truck on his side, and they both drove towards the direction of the auto shop.

The drive remained mostly silent, apart from some small talk and the hum of the radio that was on. The view from her window was essentially just an empty road, which was unfortunately her only route to and from the bar she worked at.

“How’s your day been, miss?” His gaze was focused on the road ahead of him, but his mind ran rampant about her.

It was, most definitely, inappropriate to harbor such a childish crush for someone he just met, but he tried his best to ignore his feelings and keep it professional. After all, he didn’t have any high hopes that he’d see her again after this encounter.

“It’s been, well, regular—” she let out a soft laugh, the situation that she ended up in being not-so-regular. It was a sound that he could get accustomed to easily, wanting to hear it on repeat. “Besides my car breaking down three hours before work.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, feeling sympathy for her situation. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear about that,” he sighed. “I—we can get it done before that I hope, unless you don’t want to go to work?”

His joke made her laugh slightly, causing a small smile to appear on his own face.

She let out a breath and leaned back in the seat. “Ugh, I wish, Alex. But rent isn’t free unfortunately.”

Nodding his head in agreement, he continued to focus on the road. His fingers tapped along to the song on the radio on his steering wheel from the classic rock station. It had always been a favorite station of his, most likely from the fact that it was the only thing ever playing at his work.

Shortly after a few minutes, the truck, along with her car, arrived at the auto shop. Her broken down car was moved into the garage, while she was escorted into the main office area of the shop.

“So that car, the—Nissan Skyline?” The front desk worker looked up at her to confirm that it was in fact, her vehicle, and not the wrong one.

“Yes, that one.” She gave a half-smile, partly in pride of her car that was a little pricey in the market, but took good care of, and partly because now it seemed a little useless.

He scrawled down the name of the car on his notepad, before turning his attention to her again. “And the name or owner?”

She gave him her name, as well as her insurance information and phone number in case they needed to contact her.

Alex walked through the door that connected the office to the garage, a slightly disappointed look on his face. “Just a dead battery that needs replacing, shouldn’t take more than an hour,”

“That’ll do it,” she sighed. Of course, it was some basic issue that she had looked over and failed to maintain, most likely from the fact that she was extremely busy. “How much do you think it’ll be?”

“Three-hundred.”

“Two-fifty.”

Both Alex and the front desk worker glared at each other before he was shooed off back into the garage, leaving just her and the desk worker in the office.

“Three-hundred, and don’t listen to him, it sounds like a good deal but you’re not getting anything from some one-hundred dollar battery for the Skyline. It’s better to invest in a solid battery.”

She nodded suspiciously, disguising it as a nod of understandment, before handing the cash over to the worker, to which he then printed out a receipt for her to keep for records.

Moving over to the chairs in the waiting area of the office, she slumped down into it, letting out a breath of exhaustion. She pulled out her phone and texted her boss saying that she might be late for work, which was followed up by a quick response of something along the lines of take it easy.

For the next half-hour, she flipped mindlessly through the magazines that were on a small table nearby, and eyed the vending machines that had soft-drinks and beverages that seemed so tempting on a hot summer day.

A few more minutes ticked by, and Alex came through the door that connected the garage and the office area.

“You’re all set, miss.” He beamed proudly, having stuck with his word and kept the work-time lower than an hour. “Follow me,” he waved.

She followed him through the door, entering the garage that smelled like gasoline and car oil. Spotting her car, she walked over to it, talking a quick walk around to inspect his work.

“Yeah, so I just replaced the car engine—I mean, sorry.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck as he laughed, his error causing her to have a bewildered expression. “I meant the battery. The car battery. I did not replace your car engine,”

She sighed and wiped her brow in mock relief. “Whew, I would’ve called the manager on you, Alex,”

“Just a slight error, but all jokes aside, you should be all set and ready to go.” Alex spoke with a seemingly saddened tone, his mind accompanied with the knowledge that he might not get to see her again.

Her heart felt similar, eyes more tired, but still vibrant from the short time knowing him. “Thank you so much, I really do mean it,” she smiled. “I’ll see you later.”

She knew that she wasn’t going to see him later most likely, but she wanted to remain hopeful.

He gave her a final smile back, waving to her as she entered her car, and pulled out of the auto shop. Color seemed to slowly fade from his world, turning back into an ordinary life that he lived before.

A few minutes later, she arrived at the bar she worked at, and it was the usual shift of serving patrons their drinks and foods, friendly chats to wring out a tip or two, and anything else really to pass time.

Her own life seemed to be more dull without him, the neon glow of the lights in the bar barely enchanting anymore. Each shot glass seemed to have more lackluster with each passing night, filled up with vodka shots, gin, and what-other-nots that people drank to drown their summer sorrows.

That was, until, a familiar face showed up at her bar, those same gray coveralls and messy brown hair that held a glimmer in her heart.

“Just one uh—”

After he turned his attention to her, tired eyes refocusing, he realized who she was in the dim lighting.

“Oh, hi, miss.”

She softly looked at him, and smiled, which seemed to brighten him up a bit. “Hi, dearie.” Her hand held a towel and wiped the rim of a glass after she had washed it, putting it behind her on the counter. “What drink do you want?”

“Jagermeister, please.”

His voice was quiet, just as strong as she remembered, but this time, it faltered slightly, cracks in the crevices and deep details.

Grabbing a glass, she filled it up with his drink of choice, the dark, earthy color filling up to the brim. She held it in her hands delicately, his eyes following her movements. As she set the glass down in front of him, her gaze met his deep brown eyes, mirroring the liquor.

“Here’s your drink, be responsible,” she whispered.

He read her lips like a poem, understanding each word deeply, the last part like a promise that she didn’t want him to break. “Yes, miss,”

The night grew on, patrons leaving and coming in and out of the bar, and yet he remained there, in his seat, sipping away at his drink, a slight flush appearing on his face from the alcohol.

She looked back at him every so often, catching how his eyes lingered on her a little longer when she talked to other patrons, serving their drinks, accepting tips from guys that seemed to be too flirty for his liking.

Alex was never the jealous type, but perhaps he was when he was under the influence and in the same room as her.

He raised his hand up to try and get her attention, mainly out of wanting to just talk to her. “Hey uh, miss?” His voice slurred slightly, the effects of the drink slowly getting to him.

Walking over to him, she rested her arms on the counter, lowering down to meet his eyes. “Yes, Alex? How can I help you?”

Her voice seemed to be smooth and sweet like honey, something that he wanted to taste so badly. He was stuck with her, enamored oh so deeply. All he ever wanted now was just her, and no one else.

“Hi.” A dopey smile was plastered on his face, hair tousled and messy.

She smiled at how cute it was that he called her over, just to say something so simple. “Hi, you holding up okay?”

He nodded his head, eyes slightly glossy, but it almost seemed like a mirage under the dim lighting.

And then, she was pulled away from him again, slipping away from his invisible grasp.

She laughed and playfully talked to others as he watched, and the night started to die down, the majority of large crowds leaving. It was just him and her in the bar now it seemed, aside from a few other workers and patrons at tables around the bar.

Wiping a wet rag along the counter, she saw that he was resting his head in his arms, almost dead silent aside from a slight sniffle that could hardly be heard.

“Alex?” She gently placed a hand on his shoulder, careful not to startle him.

His drink was unfinished, glass still half-full with the liquor. Picking up his head slowly, he met her with teary eyes, and her heart sank with sorrow.

Cupping his face gently, she wiped a tear that he shed away carefully. “What’s wrong?”

“I just—” He took a shaky breath inwards, avoiding eye contact with her. “Why does no one treat you right?”

It felt like a sharp pang in her chest, something that she had never spoken openly about, but he read her perfectly. “What do you mean? No one treats me right?”

“You. You’re so perfect ‘n pretty, and yet, all these guys just want to see you stroking their egos just for you to get a small tip that isn’t even fair.” He rested his head in his arms again, hiding his face from her. “It’s not fair.”

She was awestruck by all of this spilling from him, not believing that this is what he truly meant, but she knew, he was all raw and vulnerable before her gaze.

“It’s my job.” Her words came out empty, as if it was something that she wasn’t satisfied with. “I’m used to it, Alex, please don’t worry.”

He looked at her, eyes reddish and puffy, and pulled out his wallet. His hand held a fifty-dollar bill, and a twenty-dollar bill. “Please, take it. That greedy scumbag ripped you off about that car battery, and for the tip for the drink as well.”

She shook her head in denial as she cleaned up his drink, pouring the rest of it down the drain. “Alex, I’ll take the tip for the drink, but not the car, it doesn’t hurt me.”

“Please, miss?” he pleaded. “It won’t hurt, I just hate seeing you be lied to like that,”

Looking at him again, she walked closer, moving her hand to his shoulder and rubbing it soothingly. “Alright, but the drink is on the house, okay?” She accepted the tip, sliding it into her back pocket as he smiled, still teary eyed. “How’d you get here?”

“A cab,” he responded. “But I don’t know if I can call a cab this late,”

“I’ll drive you home, if you trust me of course,” she offered.

“I trust you, and I really like you, ya’know, you’re so sweet and kind and beautiful. You’re an angel,” he rambled.

“You as well, Alex.” Her hands were occupied with counting the cash at the register, closing everything up before turning her attention back to him. “You’re so pretty.” She took her hand and held his face.

He leaned into her touch gently, eyes shut and relaxed. “I’m sorry you have to see me so—pathetic,” he sighed.

“You aren’t pathetic, promise you,”

It was now just the both of them, alone in the bar. Her boss was always last to leave, and it was only half an hour until closing.

Silence sat between the both of them, comfortable and yet uncomfortable. The air was all stuffy and the scent of alcohol, cheap and expensive, filled the air.

“I should get going,” he said, getting up from the chair. “Don’t wanna bother you any longer,”

She reached out and grasped his hand softly, hoping to keep him a little longer. “No, Alex, I don’t—”

He shook his hand from her, vulnerability scrawled all over his face. “I want to let you be, I don’t deserve you,”

“Alex, no!” she shouted after him. “I want to make sure you get home safely,”

“I can take care of myself! I’m a grown adult!” he retaliated.

Her heart crumbled when he shouted, but she still tried. “I’ll take care of you, okay? Just one night, Alex.”

He looked back at her, seeing her teary eyes despite her strong face. “I’m sorry, I’ll wait.”

For the next few minutes, she gathered her bag and belongings, and walked out of the bar with him, his arm slung around her shoulders.

He was confused, but slightly sobering up from the cool night air. “Why do you want to take care of me? I’m just some guy you met,”

“Alex, you’re kind and sweet, you didn’t take advantage of my money, and you’re trying your best, alright?”

“But you’re so pretty,” he whispered, looking over at her.

She laughed softly, her smile vibrant and warm. “Alex, what does it take for me to tell you that I like you too,”

“Wait, what?”

Opening the passenger side door, she motioned for him to get in. “Yes, Alex, I like you,”

He smiled, with pure happiness despite being exhausted. “You, like me?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I like you, Alex.” She got in the driver’s side of the car, starting up the engine. “Where is your address? We need to get home,”

“We? Like me and you?” he said dreamily.

“Well I said I was going to take care of you, so sure.”

He told her his address, and then she started driving. Cozying into the seat, he got comfortable and rested his eyes for a bit, which ended up being the entire ride.

It was a quiet ride, comfortable, and only comfortable silence, with her looking over at him every now and then, smiling softly to herself.

When they both arrived at his house, she gently tapped his shoulder to wake him up, still in his gray coveralls.

He mumbled something, still in the process of waking up.

“Alex, honey.” She shook him a little this time, but not too rough. “Let’s get you inside okay?”

Nodding his head, which was now affected by a headache, he complied, allowing her to help him inside.

She kept her promise, making sure that he ended up in his bed, making sure that he had a bottle of water and some pain medicine at his bedside table, and making sure that he woke up with a note beside him, with her phone number and a sweet message for him.

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