I’m cracking up at the thought of Oscar accidentally seeing a nude of his sister in Carlos’s phone
HELP I HAD TO ELABORATE ON THIS
read little bitch here
Hotel rooms are boring. There's nothing else to do other than lay in bed and shower.
You regret telling Carlos — because now he's your boyfriend, and you share hotel rooms with him, how wild — that you wanted to stay in bed all morning and not join him for practice sessions because now is nearly midday and he's not back yet. And you're bored.
Not finding anything else to do, you open your suitcase to put together your outfit for Quali tomorrow, you laugh when the first thing you see is a McLaren cap and a Ferrari one packed together. And to think that next year you'll be adding a Williams one to your suitcase for race weekends.
As you move a pair of jeans, you come into view with something you didn't even remember you packed — a red lacy set of lingerie.
You decide to put it on, after all, you don't have anything better to do.
Meanwhile at the Zandvoort Circuit, Oscar, Carlos, Lando and Max are lounging at a hospitality area. The sessions and meetings for the day were over, so they were just waiting for the call to head out.
"Lando, can I borrow your phone? Mine is dead and I want to check Lily's flight, it's supposed to land soon," Oscar says from his place on the couch.
"I can't mate, I'm sexting right now," Lando replies, making the group laugh and Oscar roll his eyes.
"Take mine, it's in the table," Carlos says, fixing himself a cup of coffee from the small station in the room.
"Thanks," Oscar grabs the device, failing when he tries to unlock it, "What's your pass code?"
"Your sister's birthday," Carlos says casually, stirring his coffee.
The room erupts in a chorus of groans and laughter.
"Oh my god, Carlos," Lando exclaims, barely containing his giggles. "That's so cheesy!"
"Seriously, mate?" Max joins in, "What are you, a teenager with his first crush?"
Oscar looks at Carlos with mock disgust on his face. "My sister's birthday? Really? I don't know whether to be touched or grossed out."
Carlos shrugs, a slight blush creeping up his neck. "What? It's easy to remember."
"Yeah, sure," Lando snorts. "I bet your wallpaper is a picture of you two as well."
Carlos doesn't respond, suddenly very interested in his coffee.
"Oh my god, it is!" Max howls with laughter. "You're such a sap, Sainz!"
Oscar shakes his head, chuckling. "I can't believe this. My sister's turned you into a lovesick puppy."
Just as Oscar is about to search for his girlfriend's flight information, a text notification pops up. Out of habit and muscle memory, he ends up tapping on it, opening the message.
Oscar's eyes widen, and he lets out a yelp, nearly dropping the phone. "Oh god, my eyes!" he exclaims, tossing the phone back to Carlos as if it were on fire.
The others look at him, confused and amused.
"What happened?" Lando asks, trying to peer at Carlos' phone.
Oscar covers his face with his hands, groaning. "I just saw something I really, really didn't need to see. Carlos, mate, you need to put a lock on those messages from my sister."
With a frown, Carlos opens his messages, tapping on your contact and finding what made Oscar scream in disgust.
A picture of you wearing the lacy red set, with the caption "we need to put these to good use before we throw all the ferrari red away"
Carlos glances at his phone, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly locks the screen. He clears his throat, trying to maintain his composure. "Ah, I see. Sorry about that, Oscar."
Oscar is still covering his eyes dramatically. "I'm going to need therapy after this. Seriously, Carlos, password protect those messages or something!"
"Come on, what was it?" Lando tries to sneak a peek at Carlos' phone. "It can't be that bad!"
"Trust me, you don't want to know," Oscar groans. "There are some things a brother should never see."
"Look on the bright side, at least you know your sister is happy?" Max pats Oscar on the back.
"Not helping, Verstappen!" Oscar throws a nearby cushion at Max, which only makes everyone laugh harder.
"Sorry, hermano. I'll be more careful next time," Carlos says, putting on an awkward smile.
"There better not be a next time," Oscar mumbles, still looking traumatized. "I'm going to need therapy after this."
Oscar makes a mental note to never, ever touch Carlos' phone again, and Carlos makes a mental note to lock his girlfriend's messages. And put those lacy red sets to good use later, too.
Hello! Since I read your Yandere stories, my head began to ask these questions, how many children do our yanderes want to have for us? Would they get a little jealous when our babies are feeding from us?
Hii Dear Anon!
First of all I'm glad you liked my content, thank you! And secondly, your question is very good Anon, although this will be a bit short, I hope you like it! 🖤
How many children would the yanderes have with reader? Would they be jealous of their children?
Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★
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This man definitely wants lots of kids, five or six at the very least and about nine or ten at the most, I think he'd mostly prefer to have boys (since he thinks they're easier to handle) but he wouldn't mind having one or two girls, he has a big farm so he doesn't worry about space and he makes enough money from the cattle and crops to support them all.
As for being jealous of his children when they're breastfed or jealous in general, I don't think so. I honestly don't think he's the "Stay away son, she's mine" type but he also wouldn't let you have much time with the kids especially if they're boys since if you spoil them too much he thinks you'll make them "weak" and "mama's boys" which he doesn't want, so when they learn to walk he'll take them with him to do the farm chores.
"The kids are coming to work with me today. What if they're three and four? That's the perfect age to start getting to know everything, don't question me."
He would want at least 3 children, two boys and a girl, although he might want more, depending on his mood.
And regarding getting jealous when watching his child eat or in general, I think he would get a little jealous, although he would try to be playful and downplay it, saying things like "He's a little chubby, don't you think you feed him too much?" Or "Look, it's 1 PM, isn't it time for a nap? Come on, son, it's time to sleep." Of course you don't let him take the baby away, it's not his bedtime yet.
"Baby doll, when I was a child I was fed and put to sleep at any hour even if I didn't want to, and look at me, everything turned out fine!"
This poor man wants to have two girls, two little princesses that look like you, he already has one son so you'd rather have girls but he doesn't care if one is a boy or if they both end up being boys (although not having a daughter that looks like you would break his heart) he's one of the few yanderes that promises to have only two children and keeps it. He doesn't force you to have more even if the ones you give birth to aren't the gender he wanted.
Well now I don't think he would get jealous of his children while breastfeeding, rather I think he would touch the baby's head while breastfeeding even leaving kisses on its chubby cheek, although seeing you breastfeeding might excite him a little (he has a thing for tits and milk, okay?) but he wouldn't try anything at that moment on the contrary he would try to hide it.
"You're so pretty little girl... look at that little nose and those round cheeks... you're so precious sweetheart... just like your mommy"
Another one who wants to have two kids, only he wants to have a pair a boy and a girl, no more kids, just two. Not one more, not one less. I think he would have favoritism with his girl and the boy would be more attached to you as a result.
He would get jealous, he doesn't even want to hide it, although he would be more mean if the one you were breastfeeding was the boy, he would stare from the leather chair right in front of you, watch you rub the baby's head while he eats and make comments like "You don't rub my head when I suck on your boobs, don't rub his head either" or "You know there are high end milks on the market made from breast milk, why don't we try giving him that instead of your milk?" if you scold him or look at him the wrong way he would throw up his hands in surrender and say in an offended voice.
"Hey! Don't look at me like that! You should be grateful that I care, that brat will make your tits sag!"
˗ˏˋ TWIRL KISS ´ˎ˗ — r. cameron x reader
"hey rafe, i wanna try something," you chirp, stepping into his personal space with a spark in your eyes, bright with whatever wonderful idea just bloomed behind them.
your boyfriend regards you with that familiar brand of fond detachment — half-bored, half-curious. as if he's already expecting some kind of tomfoolery, but willing to humor you.
you rise eagerly onto your tippy-toes and kiss him.
pivoting lightly on the balls of your feet, you begin to spin, rotating your mouth against his in a crooked arc. the kiss distorts but stays connected — your lips sliding across his with uneven pressure, nose bumping his chin, cheek skimming bone, until you realign.
eyes closed, rafe lets it happen. he follows the motion with the barest tilt of his chin but doesn't move otherwise.
you complete a second, a bit clumsier circle. your neck begins to ache and your mouth slips briefly off-course, but you power through. arms loop around his neck at last, steadying yourself. your lips are swollen and damp with effort.
that's when he lifts you — hands around your waist, clean off the ground. one cradles the base of your skull, thumb resting just beneath your ear.
"you're gonna give yourself a neck cramp, dumbass,"
and then he really kisses you.
omg did you see Steven's new Instagram post?
the comments seem to think he cut his hair but I think it looks like just in a ponytail. only time will tell though and, with how little he posts, idk if we ever will find out if he cut it
but!! even if he did, look how adorable he is! ♡
Another f1 text au! This one was actually quite fun, it's f1 drivers reacting to you using memes of them in your chats.
BY THE WAY NO SLANDER TO PEOPLE WHO COMMENT FREAKY STUFF ON THE DRIVERS POSTS LIKE YOU DO WHAT YOU WANT NOT MY PROBLEM YOU DO YOU 😭
☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★
cw: nsfw! 18+ mdni, f!reader
BEST FRIEND'S DAD!CLARK KENT who has to subtly give you a once over when Jon introduces you as his best friend from uni. Has to try not to smile as you stare at him dreamily. Who feels strangely satisfied when you manage to say “Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Bf's dad, Clark, who tilts his head to the side just the slightest bit, and offers you his hand as if you weren't eye fucking him just now, “Pleasure's all mine, sweetheart.”
Bf’s dad, Clark, who always greets you with a big smile when you come over.
Bf’s dad Clark, who holds the car door open for you when he drops you off at your house late at night.
Bf’s dad, Clark, who’s so easy to talk to. Who listens carefully whenever you speak, always holding eye-contact. Who despite his size, is an absolute sweetheart. All wide eyes and dimples.
Bf’s dad, Clark, who the waiter mistakes for your boyfriend when taking your order, Jon conveniently timed to have been in the bathroom. Clark’s eyes widen comically, ears and cheekbones turning a lovely shade of red, as he waves his hands lowly, “Oh we’re not-” “So what’ll you have, honey?” your voice cuts him off, eyes still on the menu as you flip through it. When Clark doesn’t answer, you look up at him, raising your eyebrows and biting back a smile.
You were enjoying this, he realized.
Bf’s dad, Clark, who can’t look at you in the eyes ever since. Who fidgets when you enter the room, making up any excuse to leave just to avoid thinking about you in that way. Because he does think about you. A lot. How couldn’t he? With your glitter covered eyes, lip gloss stained lips, and short skirts? He was a goner. He’d rather kick a wall than have to watch you reapply your lip gloss for the nth time.
Bf’s dad Clark who has to pause his reading, glasses hanging from the bridge of his nose when you come over all giddy after a nail appointment, nails painted milky white, bows and other trinkets decorating them. Who has to hum and nod when you show them to him, acting as if he isn’t imagining your pretty hands around his cock. “Mm. Very pretty,”
Bf’s dad, Clark, who has to watch you put cream on your legs while you’re all watching a movie. As if it's very common to do so in front of your best friend's dad. He thinks it shouldn’t be as erotic as it looked. Clark tries hard to keep his eyes glued on the tv and not stare at the way you sensually rub your hands up and down your thighs and calves.
Bf’s dad Clark who stiffens up, when Jon claims that “your legs are so sticky after though,” because how would his son know that?
Bf's dad Clark, who tosses and turns all night, trying to think back to all your past encounters, trying to pierce together how he missed the fact that you and Jon were dating. Because if you were, he was downright fucked.
Bf's dad Clark, who slowly starts getting mad at his son for not making it more obvious. For not kissing you whenever he saw you, not offering to drive you home, not treating you right. Clark who groans lowly and runs a hand down his face when he realizes that he's jealous of his own son.
Bf’s dad Clark who corners Jon the next morning, asking him all sorts of questions. “We’re obviously dating dad, I thought you knew..?”
Bf's dad, Clark who turns rigid, raising his voice at Jon for the first time in his life, still trying to be quiet for your sake, as you’re still sleeping upstairs. Whose fury isn't pointed to the fact that you and his son were dating, but more so to the fact that Jon didn’t pamper you enough. Didn’t give you any extra attention, didn’t spoil you like you deserved. And poor Jon has to hear his dad tell him to “Be a good boyfriend, I taught you better than that.”
Bf’s dad Clark, who gives his son a pointed look when you finally come down to eat, yawning as you grab some cereal. Who has to watch his son turn and give you a quick peck on the lips, and then continue eating as if nothing happened. Has to watch you blink twice in surprise before shrugging and going back to your own food.
Bf’s dad Clark who regrets telling his son to be more physical with you because he almost breaks a glass in his hands when he sees his son hugging you from behind one evening.
Bf's dad Clark, who clenches his jaw when you announce that you're going to leave and Jon jumps up to escort you, and walk you home. Clark who so badly wants to insist that he can take you home. That it's too cold out to walk, that a drive would be better. Clark who keeps his mouth shut instead.
Bf’s dad Clark who wants to curse Jon for inviting you over to their summer house. Clark who has to watch you walk around with your tiny bikini, skin still glistening when you get out of the pool. Clark who clenches his jaw tight and looks the other way when you offer to help Jon put some sunscreen on.
Bf’s dad Clark who finds you in the kitchen that same night, swallowing hard as he watches you take a bite of a strawberry you were holding, claiming you were craving something sweet.
Bf’s dad Clark who fucks you right against the counter you were leaning against, who has to hold his hand over your mouth as he circles his hips against you, his cock snug inside your tight cunt. Clark who melts when you give him an open-mouthed kiss, begging him to take you to bed. To his bed.
Bf’s dad Clark who can’t find himself worrying about the creaking of his bed when you’re riding him so well. Clark who hisses, and whose eyes roll back when you graze your nails against his pecs. Who has to fight the urge to bend you over and fuck you till you’re crying, has to remind himself that you’d definitely wouldn't be quiet then, when you’re barely keeping it together now. Clark who pulls you skin tight against him, who loves to feel your moans and whimpers against his lips.
Bf’s dad Clark, who wakes up the next day with you in his arms, swears he’d never slept so soundly in his life. Bf’s dad Clark who presses kisses all over your face, who later fucks you in the shower, and despite not wanting to ruin the moment, has to say something,
“Fuck, we can’t do this again. You’re dating my son, for God’s sake-”
“Clark. Jon is gay.”
oh.
2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.
Pondering the idea of Single Dad Clark Kent (Either divorced or widowed.) (Massive age gap, but legal.) (Marry Christmas to those who celebrate!)
Single Dad Clark Kent: Who focused all of his energy into raising his kids to avoid thinking about his lack of a love life and was quite good at it until they all went away to college leaving him to think a lot about how lonely he is.
Single Dad Clark Kent: Who is elated when his kids come home from college for breaks— even the short ones for Thanksgiving— and adores having them home for Christmas.
Single Dad Clark Kent: Who was happy to host you for the holidays, who he'd heard quite a bit about over the past few months during phone calls to his kids because you were his adopted daughter Osul's roommate, but was shocked to see you were nothing like the person she'd described.
Single Dad Clark Kent: Who can't help but let his gaze linger a bit on you, more so than he'd like, and pays extra close attention when you speak, chalking it up to being polite to make a good impression for his kids, especially Osul.
Single Dad Clark Kent: Who finds you sitting in the kitchen sometimes, and talks with you, the conversation being easier with you than with half the dates his kids forced him to go on recently.
Single Dad Clark Kent: Who listens intently when you explain why you don't want to go home for the holidays and feels sympathetic towards you for having to deal with your parents fighting.
Single Dad Clark Kent: Who reminds himself every single day for two weeks straight that you're his daughter's age, not even old enough to drink, while he'd already had multiple kids, not to mention got married before you were even born.
Single Dad Clark Kent: Who can't bring himself to stop imagining how soft your lips are every time he sees you sipping on a cup of Cocoa or biting into a gingerbread cookie.
Single Dad Clark Kent: Who actually feels interested in someone for the first time in years, but won't allow himself to act on it because he's sure you'd think he's horrible for pursuing someone your age.
Single Dad Clark Kent: Who convinces himself it's his imagination, even when you're blatantly flirting with him, even calling him handsome on more than one occasion with varrying degrees of humor in your tone.
Single Dad Clark Kent: Who can't restrain himself anymore when the whole house is asleep and you're sitting on the kitchen counter, sipping on some hot chocolate.
Single Dad Clark Kent: Who wipes the whipped cream off your nose, causing you to blush in a way that makes his heart leap and gets very quiet when you stare at him without speaking.
Single Dad Clark Kent: Who leans in, waiting for you to stop him, giving you every opportunity for you to push him away, only for you to stay completely still until he finally kisses you.
Single Dad Clark Kent: Who tastes the chocolate on your tongue and is immediately done for, already addicted to your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck while he stands in between your legs.
Single Dad Clark Kent: Who has no idea how he'll look his daughter in the eyes tomorrow, but tells himself he'll worry about it in the morning because for now, he's putting himself first and finally indulging himself the way he'd wanted to do simce he first saw you.
Axl funny moment
Words: 1,310 Summary: In a world where F1 drivers can claim someone as a wife while at a race, here is Charles' version. Note(s): DARK FIC, this is dark. Dubious Consent/Touching (not sexual), Reader was essentially kidnapped. I will be making other fics like this for a few other drivers where they claim a wife. And thank you 🦢 anon for this idea and all your thoughts! Edit: Takes place during/after Imola 2024
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She doesn’t want to sit on the bed. She doesn’t want to be in this room. She doesn’t want him touching her. But she doesn’t want to make him angry, fears what his reaction could be, what he could do to her. So she sits at the edge of the luxurious hotel bed. Her shoulders hunching, her hands gathered in her lap, her legs pressed painfully tight together.
She’s taking up as little space as she can, but he still sits right next to her, his thigh pressing against her and she has to resist flinching.
“You are so tense.” He murmurs, his voice practically caressing her ear. The sound of it makes her release a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. And in doing so she takes in a breath, nearly becoming dizzy at the perfect smell of his cologne. “I’m sorry.” She manages to say. He clicks his tongue, running a hand up and down her back. It’s supposed to be a soothing touch and she has to force herself not to tense further. “Don’t apologize, mon ange. Would a bath help?” She eagerly nods at the suggestion, wants to weep at the idea of it.
She needs a moment alone. Ever since she was taken to Ferrari’s garage, she’s had him right there by her, never more than an arms length away. She wants to sink into scalding water and let the pain of it distract her from what has happened.
“Please.” She whispers. He smiles, pleased, and she hates that she likes the look on him. “I’ll go get it started.” She wants to protest, but he’s pressing his lips to her forehead and then standing, striding over to the bathroom. And she remains frozen on the bed, even when she hears the sound of water rushing out and hitting the tub.
When Charles comes back, he’s shirtless and she makes a noise at the sight. He gives her another pleased smile. “I prefer my baths to be very hot, so if you’d like it to be cooler, you will have to wait a few minutes.” He tells her, gesturing for her to join him and she does, letting him guide her with a hand on the back into the bathroom. Stepping inside, she lets out a shaky breath. The entire mirror is steamed up and she can see how hot the water is in the large tub. “Thank you.” “Of course.” She waits for a moment for him to leave, but he just continues to look at her, eyes half lidded, lips ever so slightly parted as he leans against the bathroom counter.
She turns away from him, tears threatening to prick her eyes, and she forces herself to breath as she reaches for the hem of her polo. As soon as it’s pulled over her head, she nearly shakes. She wants to ask him to look away, to stop watching her undress, she can feel his eyes on her. She wants to drop to her knees and beg for him to come back when she’s fully naked. She’s never gotten undressed in front of anyone. It feels intimate to do so, it feels worse somehow for him to be watching her do this.
Her bra comes off next and she can hear the sound of his breathing pick up as it drops onto the floor, the skin of her back exposed to him. She takes her underwear and pants off at the same time, thankful when her socks come off as well.
She thinks she’s supposed to turn to him, to let him get a full look at her, but the bath is right there, calling her name, the water clear, no bath bomb or bubbles to hide anything. He could get a full look at her like that.
Stepping into the bath, she shudders at the feeling of near burning hot water. It laps around her and while she normally sinks into her baths, this time she eases herself down and into the water. Her eyes closing when she is fully in and laying down, the top of her neck even a little wet.
She almost forgets that he is there, but then a hand is caressing her shoulder and this time she can’t help her flinch. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes and she hates that it sounds sincere. “Scoot up for me?” Grabbing at the sill of the tub, she carefully pulls herself forward, stopping when he makes a noise. “Good girl.” He murmurs and suddenly the water rises against her and her eyes fly open when she feels the sensation of skin grazing her back and as she looks down, she sees legs on either side of her body just barely not touching her. Then hands are on her hips, gently guiding her back until her back is pressed against a naked chest and she can feel him against her. His hands move from her hips so he can wrap his arms around her.
He lets out a happy sound at contact. “Comfortable?” She forces herself to nod. “Good. Now just relax, mon ange. You’ll feel much better.”
—
She wakes up and Charles is still holding on to her, his grip tight but not bruising, so clearly keeping her there and she can’t help but cry.
She was his forever, he had claimed her, the paperwork probably already has been registered. She didn’t even get to say goodbye to her family. The thought hadn’t crossed her mind until now, but it does and she has to slap a hand over her mouth.
She was never going to see her mom, have her fuss over her. Her dad was never going to call her champ, she was never going to get to eat his food again. Her grandmother and her heart aches even more. She was never going to see her grandma again, feel her hand against her cheek as she looked in her eyes, making sure that when she said of course I’m happy that she actually was. She was never going to get the family dinners with so many things being passed around it made her dizzy. The shots that everyone took if they were old enough.
She doesn’t realize it, but her whole body is shaking and it wakes the man holding her.
“Mon ange,” his voice is thick with sleep and confusion and she holds her breath. “What’s the matter?” She doesn’t say anything, her body still shaking, but she hopes her lack of response will make him think that she’s asleep. It doesn’t, his hands move around her body until he easily can turn her so she’s facing him. “Oh,” his eyes are wide, voice mournful as he sees her tears. “What happened?” She doesn’t say anything, just stares at him with tears in her eyes, hand still clamped over her mouth. His brows furrow and he moves her hand away from her mouth. “What is wrong? What has you crying?” “I’m never gonna see them.” The words come out and she’s gasping for breath and his brows furrow more. “Who, mon ange?” “My family. I’m never going to see my mom or my dad. My grandma, my cousins, my aunts and uncles. I’m never going to see any of them again.” She’s sobbing and she hates that when he runs a hand over her back, trying to calm her before urging her to press her face into his chest, she does. “Of course you will.” He finally says when she’s calmed a little. The words have her pulling back, silent as she stares at him with wide eyes. He chuckles, running a finger beneath her eye to get rid of the tears still clinging there. “Of course you will see them again. They make you happy and I want to know my in-laws, after all.”
Something I don’t think we talk about enough is the fact that Ayrton’s last meal was with Alain. And to this day Alain is publicly selfish in admitting he was glad it was him Ayrton had lunch with before the crash, and not anyone else.
Like- jesus.