Always And Forever

I mean

He is not ugly but he is not that handsome... But he has the charm, got it?

Fantasy Island (gr63)

↳ A/N This is arguably one of my most favourite things I have written and it's incredibly special to me. I hope you enjoy <3

↳ Inspired By: Fantasy Island (1978 series/2021 series)

↳ Summary: A tropical paradise where your greatest fantasies come to life, no strings attached. Upon your arrival to the sunny weathered beaches, in the cloud like king size bed, you find your greatest fantasy waiting for you.

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Stranger(kind of?)!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 25.4k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, touches of magical realism, arguably infidelity but not really (because Fantasy Island is not 'reality'...or is it?), mentions of an unnamed girlfriend, oral sex (m and f receiving), spanking, leaving marks, dirty talk, praise, mirror on the ceiling, really steamy passionate romantic sex, public sex, shower sex, brief breeding kink, lotsss of "I love you", unprotected sex.

Through the small window of the plane, the picturesque tropical island was revealed, standing out from the crystal blue water with its sandy white beaches and lush green forests. It looked like a photoshopped sliver of paradise and as the biplane coasted down towards the water, you already felt the stresses start to ease from your shoulders. 

A weekend on Fantasy Island. The place rumoured to allow your largest fantasies to come true for a few days, no strings attached. It knew what you needed better than you knew it yourself, so you were told. Once you left the island, life would return to how it always was but, for now, your focus was on rejuvenation and getting your mind off of everything. 

With your suitcase in hand, you stepped out of the small plane and onto the wooden dock, feeling the warm tropical breeze ease your muscles and relax your body. You almost completely forgot why you craved to come there after only the first breath of salty sea air. The woman waiting for you at the end of the dock greeted you by name with a smile and a handshake, her airy white sundress rippling around her knees as you approached. 

“Welcome to Fantasy Island.” she said, holding out her arms as if to show you the island right then and there. 

You thanked her politely as you admired the bamboo beach huts and patted loungers just at the edge of the sand. You followed her to the red jeep that was parked a bit of a ways away from the dock and you sat in the passenger seat as she drove you farther into the island and towards the resort. She spoke to you about the island and how she had been gifted the job as operator from her father before her; it was a busy career to run the island and she lived alone to dedicate her life to it. 

The island and the resort were all free for you to roam and she offered no cautions about the jungle or safety in the ocean, explaining how nothing was dangerous there. It felt all a bit surreal to you but your mind was focused on the spa that must be awaiting you at the resort. After a long and agonizing week - not to mention months - you felt that you were overdue for some quiet relaxing rejuvenation. 

The host guided you into her open air office at the edge of the resort overlooking the main beach and sparkling waters. A golden retriever met you at the steps and you gave him a scratch behind the ear as you followed the personable young woman into her space. She gestured you into the seat on the opposite side of her desk before taking her own chair behind it.

“It seems you have had quite the tiring little while, is that so?” she asked, not wasting another minute on the small talk that had filled the drive over. 

You smiled politely, “Yeah, you could say that.”

“So tell me, what can the island do for you?” she folded her hands together on the top of her desk.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “I dunno really.”

“You must have come here with a purpose; this is Fantasy Island after all. What is your fantasy?”

Your heart seemed to beat harder in your chest and you glanced out towards the beach as if to buy yourself time. With a small breath, you finally spoke, “It’s silly to say it aloud.”

“Believe me, I have heard plenty of fantasies in my career here. Nothing will surprise me.”

You turned back to her, lingering on her understanding smile and kind eyes and you felt yourself drawn to open up to her, “I am in love.”

She nodded you on. 

“I am in love with a guy who will not love me back. Who cannot love me back. Who...hardly knows I exist on this planet.” you started. It was hard to talk about and to reflect on your reality and she let you have a moment to piece together your thoughts. “These last months, and these last weeks especially, have been filled with me trying to accept that he is dating someone else. It’s literally all over social media and it’s hard to avoid and hard to look at. Really, really hard...and...exhausting. I just want to have a weekend where I can shut everything out and not think about how much that fact hurts me.”

The host smiled at you and nodded slowly in understanding as if she already knew all of what you were going to tell her, “So your fantasy is to forget that your love is unrequited?” 

You sighed thankfully that she understood, “Yes, exactly.”

“Well Fantasy Island can certainly help you with that.” she assured you easily. 

“If this works, I owe you my sanity.” you said. 

The host smiled at you, “You will be pampered, relaxed, and rejuvenated by the end of your stay, I guarantee. You will feel like a whole new woman.” 

She directed you to your room across the resort and with final thank yous and welcomes, you started off down the wooden boardwalk to your suite. Your suitcase clacked along the boards beneath your feet as you took your time to locate room 215, looping around the centre courtyard that was filled with brightly coloured flowers and waving palm trees. Finally, you reached your room and turned the handle without the need for a key. The moment you opened the door and stepped foot over the threshold, a refreshing soft gust of cool air tumbled over you as if you crossed through a cloud.

Compared to the heat of the tropical island you were on, the slight breeze of air conditioning was relieving and you sighed contentedly and set your suitcase against the wall. The bamboo flooring cushioned your sandaled feet as you stepped farther into the room and the floor to ceiling windows billowed the sheer white curtains into the light painted space. The sun that filled the blue sky lightened the room perfectly and you rounded the corner from the small entryway to take in the three-sided beach side views of your bedroom…only to find someone already sitting on your bed. 

The white sheets were pulled tightly and cradled his body like the softest most irresistible cloud, matching the white fabric pants and half open button-up that he wore. He was staring out the open windows to the beach, his eyes just as perfect blue as the ocean with the slightest hints of green that pictures never did justice. He had one leg tucked up under him and the other hanging lazily off the end of the king size bed patiently.

Your breath froze in your chest when he finally turned his head to look at you from a few short metres away. His gaze sent shivers down your spine and you felt your heart squeeze in your chest in a feeling that you couldn’t place as yearning or anxiousness. A peaceful smile came to his soft lips and he lifted two filled champagne glasses from the small tray that rested with him on the soft bed. 

He held one out to you, “Come here, gorgeous. I’ve been waiting for you.”

You stayed frozen in place for a moment, almost dizzyingly, staring at him in disbelief. Was this real? The man you had only dreamt of for months now sitting right across from you, beckoning you over with a glass of expensive champagne and that swoon worthy smile. You reached carefully to pinch your thigh to test if this really was a dream, only to find bare skin under your hand instead of your floral skirt you had worn on the plane. You looked down with a gasp, more than stunned to find yourself in a striking blue lingerie set and topped with a thin white satin robe left open around your shoulders and down just past your waist. 

“Well? Don’t make me drink both of these on my own.” 

You looked back over to the young man still sat on your bed, his outstretched hand gently swirling the bubbling gold liquid around in its flute. He nodded you over and you took a few cautious steps across the room towards him and took the glass from his hand. When your fingers brushed his, you shivered, the warmth of his skin feeling so real and so addicting and as your heart hammered in your chest, you sat down on the end of the bed beside him. 

Your eyes stayed locked on his, still in near disbelief, and you reached out your free hand to brush over his cheek to make sure he was really truly there. When your palm caressed his face and he leaned into your touch sweetly, you let yourself breathe his name in awe, “George.” 

“Yeah, darling. Was your flight okay?” he asked softly, taking your hand from his cheek and kissed your knuckles. 

“Yeah.” you mumbled, fearing to blink as if he’d disappear from beside you in an instant. 

“Good.” he laced his fingers with yours and lifted his glass to his lips with his other hand to take a sip. 

You watched him quietly, mirroring his sip with your own glass, welcoming the fizz of the bubbling champagne that grazed your tongue and the warmth of his hand in yours on his lap. The sea air that breezed into the room ruffled his sandy brown hair and his gaze drifted past you to the beautiful beaches beyond the open windows. 

“George,” you spoke his name softly, hesitantly, still wondering how on earth he was sitting beside you at a tropical island resort, “do you know who I am?”

He tore his gaze from the beach view to your face again and he smiled at you, giving your hand a squeeze, “Of course. What kind of question is that? You’re my girl.” 

Your name fell from his lips like an irresistible melody, like the sweetest sound you had ever heard, and the way he smiled at you as he spoke it made your heart flutter. He took another sip of champagne and you let your eyes wander down his unbuttoned shirt that ruffled gently in the warm breeze through the open windows and the streaks of sunlight rose his light dusting of freckles over his nose and tops of his cheeks. 

“It’s breathtaking here.” George spoke calmly, his fingers still resting lazily in yours, “I’m just looking forward to a perfect weekend vacation with you.” 

“With me?” you couldn’t help but confirm. 

“Yeah.” George chuckled lightly, gently taking his hand from yours to reach for the small tray still resting on the bed and he lifted a chocolate covered strawberry from the dessert plate. He held it out to you with a smile and fed you a small bite as he answered your question, “No one else I would even think of, sweetheart. You’re my one and only after all. This weekend is just for us.” 

As you ate your bite of strawberry, he took the last bit for himself before setting the greenery back on the plate with the rest. You both sipped your drinks and you couldn’t help but reach out to touch him as you let the alcohol warm you, resting your hand against his chest to feel his heartbeat under your touch. 

“I love you.” you breathed ever so quietly, testing the waters with the eight letters you had been dying to confess. 

George raised his hand over yours and you could feel his heart race under your palm, staring into your eyes as he answered with an honest, “I love you too.” 

Your heart fluttered at his words and the smile that came to your lips only had him smiling back at you. He took his hand from yours to dust his finger across your lips and down your neck and along the collar of your white silk robe. 

“You look so beautiful today.”

Butterflies filled your stomach at his words and you stared back at him even if his eyes were on your chest. Having him simply looking at you was enough to make you blush. You replied easily, “So do you.” 

“I’ve missed you.” George whispered, tracing your collarbones gently before sliding up the side of your neck. His touch left goosebumps rising across your skin at his slightest touch. 

“I’ve missed you more than you know.” you admitted quietly. 

His eyes raised from his fingers to your eyes and then, as he smiled adoringly, dropped his gaze to your lips. His stare alone could make shivers tear down your spine in the most addicting way and his large hand slid over your jaw to cradle the side of your face. The anticipation was nearly nauseating as his thumb brushed over your cheek and his eyes didn’t waver from your lips even as he licked his own. You wanted to kiss him more than anything, to feel his perfectly soft sculpted lips on yours enough to make your knees weak, and you had tried to imagine it for months but never expected to be face to face with him like this. 

No words had to be spoken as you both leaned in and his hand on your face guided you to tilt your head slightly to the right and let his lips brush against yours. This first shared anticipatory breath was electrifying and, as his lips finally slotted with your own, the warmth of the tropical island air was nothing compared to the fire that burst in the depths of your stomach. You inhaled into it, savouring the taste of his lips on yours as his kiss froze motionlessly for a few seconds. When he leaned back from it and your lips parted with a soft smack, you couldn’t help but grab the front of his shirt and pull him back in for another kiss. You could feel him smile into it as your lips met again, sharing a few lingering kisses that tasted like expensive champagne from the glasses you each still held in your hand. 

Your heart raced in your chest as your hand slid into the back of his hair and you nipped gently on his bottom lip. He let a pleasant hum fall between you, tilting his head a little more to deepen your kiss and part your lips with his own. The champagne and strawberries were forgotten about as you quenched your cravings through his tongue and soft lips, letting him lead into each kiss that made your stomach flutter with desire. 

When a few more moments passed, he pulled back from you with one more tender kiss to your pouted lips and gave you a small smile as he took the champagne flute from your hand and set it back on the tray. Almost impatiently, you watched as he lifted the small tray from the sheets and leaned over to rest it safely on the bedside table, giving him a comfortable range of motion to lean in towards your lips again. You shared a few soft kisses before you both opened up to permit your tongues to join once more and you greedily held his face in your hands like he was your most prized possession. 

George held himself up with one hand against the mattress as his other rested gently against the side of your neck, although you were too hung up on the gentle flexing of his jaw that moved smoothly along with each passionate kiss. The soft smacks of his lips on yours was addicting and you slid your hands down his neck and along his exposed chest as your breathing started to fall in time with his. 

“Mm,” he pulled back ever so slightly and looked at you from under long lashes, “I love kissing you.” 

Your cheeks flushed pink just as he leaned in for more, capturing your bottom lip between his and then your top and then nudged his tongue into your mouth. You felt as light as air as you pushed your mouth on his harder and opened up to let his tongue nudge strongly against yours. You could taste the sweetness of the strawberries and the sharpness of the alcohol in his mouth and each breath you shared just made it more addicting. You couldn’t get enough of him. 

His hands traced the collar of your satin robe and you let him push it off your shoulders and to the bamboo flooring, leaving you in only the blue lingerie set that hugged your body perfectly. You felt on fire, drawn to him in every single way, and you tugged on the material of his white button-up to keep him close as your lips locked in messy passionate kisses. 

But George was leaning back from you again despite the grip you had on his shirt and he shuffled onto the bed a little more and he curled his finger at you to call you over. With an eager smile, you crawled up the end of the bed and met him in the middle, resting on your hands and knees over his outstretched legs as you leaned in towards his lips again. His hands found your hips and he eased you down onto his thighs, making you flush pink behind strong kisses. 

He left you with a few single kisses to your lips before meeting your eyes as his hands rubbed over your waist and along the thin garter belt that was wrapped around your middle. He was gorgeous and the way he looked at you made your stomach twist with eager butterflies, desperate to feel his lips on yours more and more. 

“I want to make love to you.” George breathed, his words sending shivers down your arms and a flutter between your legs, “Right here with this beautiful view of the ocean and no one to disturb us all weekend.”

“All weekend?” you chuckled softly. 

“Yeah.” George whispered, soaking up your body with his hands skimming over each curve of your skin and his lips trailed slow kisses down your neck. “I want to make love to you all weekend…never leave…keep you right here with me.” 

You giggled shyly, tangling your fingers in the back of his hair as his lips blessed your skin, “Maybe we should start with an hour and see where it takes us.”

George hummed against your skin, leaving wet kisses over your collarbones and across your shoulder, “And then order room service.”

“Alright.” you agreed shyly. 

“Okay.” George smiled at you on his lap and he leaned in to kiss your lips once more. 

Between delicious slow kisses, you spoke quietly, “Are you sure?”

George chuckled softly against your lips, “God, baby, there’s nothing I’d rather do.” 

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest and your whole body flushed with an ache for him, raising your hands to the side of his neck as you kissed him strongly a few more times. 

He pulled back slightly again, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs, “Are you sure? You seem so hesitant today, sweetheart.”

You shook your head quickly in reassurance and pulled his lips on yours for a few more quick kisses, “I’m so sure. All I want is to make love with you…I’ve been waiting so long.” 

George nipped at your bottom lip through his smile and slid his hands up your back with a peaceful inhale as his lips slotted with yours again. He sat up straighter so your chests were pressed up together and you let your tongue push against his hungrily, letting yourself fall under the bliss of quenched thirst little by little.

The sounds of the waves on the sand rushed faintly through the open windows and the chirping of wildlife rustled through the trees around the resort but you were much more focused on the soft sounds and gentle breaths that George made behind your kisses. Your hands slid down his chest again and started to unbutton the rest of his white shirt slowly. He broke your kiss to watch you for a moment, how your fingers worked the small buttons ever so gently and ever so slowly, really trying to savour every moment. His eyes lingered on your face next, hands held to your hips, not tearing his gaze away even when you pushed open his button-up shirt to reveal his toned chest and abs. Your fingers drank him up in gentle touches and you noticed small shivers rising over his skin as you glided your fingertips down between his pecs and over the chiseled dips of his abs. 

George raised his hand up to glide his fingers over your jaw, “C’mere.” 

He gently guided your chin up to lean in and kiss your lips, sharing slow open mouthed kisses that were barely heard behind the tropical summer breeze. You left your hand against his stomach and let your other tangle in the back of his hair, holding him close to prevent his lips from ever leaving yours. In a bit of excited bravery, you moved your kisses along his smooth jaw and down his neck in slow savouring movements to make him shiver, tasting the salty sea air on his skin. 

George hummed pleasantly, tilting his head to the side slightly to give you room along his neck and you left wet kisses over his warm skin and down to the dip of his shoulder where his open shirt rested. 

“Can I leave marks?” you whispered between gentle kisses. 

“Mhm.” George agreed easily, sliding his fingers in the back of your hair. “As much as you want.” 

You smiled giddily against his skin and moved back up right under his jaw, peppering soft kisses there until his head dropped back a little more. His one hand fell behind him to prop himself up in the middle of the bed and his other stayed in your hair, focusing on the feeling of your lips on his skin until you found your spot and sucked. 

George’s soft shaky sigh was infused with an ever so quiet groan and you smiled into it, tugging gently at his skin with your teeth before easing the forming bruise with a solid lick. You repeated the same routine twice more until his breathing was falling heavier and his hand was tightening in your hair to pull your lips up to his again. 

“You’re gorgeous.” you whispered into his mouth between lazy kisses. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

“I love you.” George breathed. 

“Oh my gosh, I love you.” you replied easily, your voice struggling to not waver with emotion and you covered it up with another hungry kiss. 

You shifted on his lap to kiss along his neck again and down his chest, soaking up each inch of his body like it was heaven sent. George was breathing shallowly, watching you kiss down his tanned torso and sneak a lick over his nipples before moving farther and his hand in your hair only helped guide you down. 

Your lips trailed wet open mouthed kisses between his abs, feeling the stiff muscle under your fingers in the wake of your mouth before shuffling back on his lap a little more. You brushed over the waistband of his thin white slacks and you could already see him tenting the fabric from underneath. He gasped lightly when you dusted your fingers over his growing erection and when you glanced up at him for permission he nodded you on eagerly. He shifted obediently on the mattress as you untied his pants and shuffled them down slightly as you leaned in to press your lips against his stomach again. Your eyes met as you looked up at him for a brief moment, trailing slow teasing kisses down his abs and eagerly followed the line of hair that led you from his navel and down to his pelvis. 

“Oh my gosh, baby.” George breathed, watching carefully as you tugged his pants down his thighs. 

He wasn’t wearing any underwear and you bit your lip eagerly as his dick was let free, eyeing him up for all his worth as he stood tall right in front of your face. You shoved his pants down the rest of the way and he nudged them off his ankle and to the floor and tugged his shirt open wider as you situated yourself between his legs. Your whole body tingled with desire as you draped your hair over one shoulder and leaned down to his lap. 

George inhaled sharply as you let your tongue lick over the head of his dick and his mouth fell open with a soft groan as you wrapped your lips around him and sucked softly. He made your mouth water in the most addicting way and the way he fit in your mouth was better than you ever imagined in your dreams. You moaned around him before pulling back with a small suction to leave a few wet kisses to the tip. Your eyes raised to his again as your tongue teased over the slit and rubbed along the underside of his tip and he looked like a true angel when his eyes fluttered closed and head fell back with a steady moan. 

“That’s so good.” George mumbled, lazily bunching your hair back from your face to hold back as you went down on him. He leaned on one hand against the mattress again, staring down at you as you wrapped your fingers around the length of his cock and gave him a few testing strokes enough to urge him to bite down on his bottom lip. 

You were nearly drooling down your chin at the sight of him so it was no surprise when you didn’t wait long to ease him into your mouth. Your tongue led the way, tracing each curve and gentle vein as he filled your mouth and your hand. George’s soft shaky hum had you starting to stroke him off in steady movements, letting your hand and your mouth work together around his thick length. He didn’t pressure you at all but you soon pushed your mouth down deeper and choked yourself quietly on him on your own free will. 

“F-Fuck, darling.” George whimpered, breathing heavily as his head dropped backwards. “Feels so good.”

You gave him a small moan of your own as you bobbed your head a little faster around him, muffling the sounds of your wet gags as he took up your mouth. Your spit was trickling down from your lips and slicked up his dick and the grip your hand had on the base, only making the whole situation wetter. It was blissfully perfect as you laid on your stomach between his spread legs and sucked him off in savouring steady motions with the warm ocean breeze ruffling into the room through the open windows and white sheer curtains. 

He tasted so good in your mouth - arguably better than the expensive champagne and chocolate covered strawberries - and you hollowed your cheeks to really taste the essence of him and the hint of salty precum that was oozing from his swollen tip. You sped up a little more, bobbing your head in long messy motions in time with your hand until each stroke grazed the back of your throat and your soft muffled wet gags had George’s hand tightening in your hair. 

“Oh- That’s it, darling. That’s it, gorgeous. Don’t stop.” George panted out, staring down his body to you as you kept your pace. 

The pet names made you melt and they sent your racing heart soaring, not to mention the pretty moans that fell from his throat that sounded like an angelic symphony all on their own. You shifted your hands to his thighs and eased them back towards his chest slightly, even though he was still propped up sitting. George slouched back onto his forearm while leaving his other hand still in your hair, his legs bent and pushed back slightly to give you room to suck him off. You dropped your hand down to his balls and rolled them gently in your hand, just enough to have him groaning loudly as his eyebrows furrowed in bliss. But your mouth kept working around him, taking every inch you could time and time again even as you choked yourself on him a little. 

“Don’t stop.” George repeated breathily, his voice a little strained, “Please, baby, don’t stop. Shit.”

You gave him a small moan in content as you kept going, eyes raising to his face even as his hand started to move you a little harder down on him by your hair. You didn’t mind as you wanted to please him and worship him the best you could so you took it gladly. His moans turned into whimpers and you could feel his thighs starting to clench as his hips habitually rolled up against your face and pushed himself deeper still. 

You gagged around him loudly but only sped up more despite his quick, “Sorry, love.” 

Without a break for even a single word, you kept going, giving him nice sloppy head and fondling his balls just enough to have him shuttering underneath you. George shifted again on the mattress and you used your free hand to grip his hip and hold him in place, glancing up through your lashes as his head lolled to the side and he licked his lips before biting them through his furrowed expression. 

He hummed lowly again, his hips trying to move in time with you but you held him down as he whimpered, “Oh, sweetheart, I’m gonna cum. Please. You’re gonna make me cum, baby.” 

You kept going, keeping him perfectly pleasured by hands and mouth and your moans only sent vibrations down his whole length and he exhaled deeply. You could feel his dick start to twitch in your mouth and you glanced up at his face as he started right back at you with a hazy lust over his expression, his cheeks tinted pink and his jaw clenched through a shaky whimper. 

With a few more quick sloppy bobs of your head, his thighs and his balls were tensing and in a mere second, his head was falling back with a beautiful trembling, “Oh-“

George’s fingers clutched the sheets and your hair as he came, his dick pulsing in your mouth in time with each steady spurt and you raised your hand from his thigh to jerk him off right down your throat. You sputtered around him a little but never dreamt of complaining as he groaned and whimpered and filled your mouth with the warm salty cream that you shamelessly dreamt about tasting. 

He fell into beautiful soft moans as he finished, head lolled to the side with dreamy bats of his eyelashes and his hand in your hair slipped down to caress your face as you pulled off of him with a soft slurp. You kissed over his thighs and hips and then along that thin line of hair that led you right back up to his torso. George’s chest was heaving and he gave you a soft smile as you leaned in to kiss him, swallowing up his pleased hums into your mouth as your tongues pushed messily together and lips smacked ungracefully. 

George shifted up from his forearm to his hand against the mattress and slid his other arm around your waist to hold you close, mumbling between kisses, “You’re so good, baby. Mm, I love you so much.”

“I love you more.” you answered easily, already falling into more of a comfortable state of mind after the initial shock that the island brought you. 

George shifted underneath you and carefully flipped you over on the white down-filled sheets of the king size bed, making sure you fell gently in the cradle of his arms. His lips stayed on yours for a moment longer before he moved down your neck, following the same path you took although he seemed to know your most sensitive spots with near ease. His lips under your ear had you shuttering, your arms wrapping around his back to cling onto the material of his white shirt as your legs slotted together. 

This was heaven, you were sure. Only a mere hour ago you were escaping to this island broken hearted and now, the man of your dreams was wrapped up in bed with you overlooking a picturesque view of the ocean. George’s lips suckled on your neck, the sensation shooting shivers down your spine and you clung onto him tighter. He moaned softly as your hips habitually rutted against his bare thigh and he worked to ease the hickey he left on your skin with a warm lick before shifting down to the dip of your shoulder to make another. 

The tropical breeze cooled his saliva left behind on your neck by his wet kisses and little licks and you felt more in tune with your body than ever by how it was reacting to even the slightest touch. The sun warmed you both and you could feel how its rays soaked the material of George’s white button-up and sparkled in his eyes when he glanced up at you. You ran your hand through his sandy brown hair and he eased farther down your body to leave another hickey on your collarbone and then finally reached your chest. 

“You look so beautiful, I don’t wanna take this off you.” George said softly as he traced the curve of the lingerie bra you wore as it hugged your breasts and contrasted its perfect blue against your skin. 

You shared a small smile with him as he shifted down your body, only stopping to suck a hickey into the flesh of your breast before moving down your stomach in wet kisses. Your head finally dropped back from staring at him intently, letting the cloud-like pillow catch your fall as George’s hands soaked up your hips and he covered you in slow meaningful kisses. 

The image staring back at you from the ceiling was a surprise but you soon clued into the fact that it was your own reflection staring back at you. It showed everything in a whole new angle and you felt your insides clench at the sight of George, naked except for his open white shirt, laying between your legs. 

He snapped the band of your garter belt gently at your waist and you tore your eyes from the mirror on the ceiling to his sweet face. 

“Let me?” he asked. 

You nodded him on and shuffled onto your elbows as he unclipped the straps from the garters and gently pulled the belt off your hips. He left the strip of lace around each of your thighs and sat back on his knees to pull the belt down your legs, before pausing to kiss your shin and your knee and your thigh as he lowered your legs back down to the bed. You left them bent and spread as he settled between them to press a kiss to the front of your panties. 

Still covered, you didn’t feel too exposed to him as you laid back on your forearms and watched him kiss slowly right down between your legs. The gentle touch had you taking your bottom lip between your teeth, watching how he left strong lingering open mouthed kisses right over your clothed clit, trying to play it off casually. Your heart was hammering in your chest and you forced yourself to take a deep calming breath of fresh salty ocean air to stop from getting too in your head as George kissed lower. 

Over your thin panties, George dipped out his tongue slightly between meaningful kisses and you felt his heavy warm sigh against your skin between a deep impatient, “Mmmm.” 

His lips found your inner thigh and he sucked a hickey into your flesh before mirroring it on the other side and then trailed kisses slowly down your legs as he sat back on his knees again. George’s fingers linked in the sides of your panties and pulled them down too, his eyes drinking you up even as you tried to cover yourself with your hand shyly and he dropped your underwear to the ground too. 

“Mm mm.” George scolded sweetly with a hum as he gently pushed your hands away, “Don’t hide from me, gorgeous. Let me see you.” 

“George.” you breathed nervously. 

“Don’t be shy, baby, I got you.” George whispered, leaning back down to kiss your hips and the dip where your pelvis met your legs. “Trust me.” 

“Yeah.” you agreed easily, shifting your hand into his hair instead as he nudged your legs open wider. 

It felt like you had known him for a lifetime despite the fact that it had only been short of an hour since you laid eyes on him for the first time. The trust came surprisingly easy that way and eager fuzzy warmth spread through your chest as he trailed teasing slow kisses closer and closer to your cunt. 

You hadn’t realized how horny you were for more of him until that moment as his agonizing slow kisses over your flushed skin caused your insides to clench pleadingly and a soft impatient whimper fell from your throat. George’s arms looped around your thighs and pulled your legs over his shoulders as he licked his lips and admired your body laid out for him. 

Almost shamefully, you had dreamt of that very moment for months but only ever figured it was to happen in your imagination. Now, laying naked on a tropical king size bed, you felt more blessed by the sight of George settling between your legs than the white sand beaches and perfect ocean view just beyond the open windows of the hotel room. 

“So perfect.” George whispered. “So beautiful.”

He glanced up at your face as he let a thick string of spit slip down from his lips and fall onto your throbbing cunt, the simple action making you gasp softly, only doing so again, louder, as his mouth followed suit. He gave you wet open mouthed kisses right down your folds as his hands found a nice grip around your thighs, keeping your legs open to let him have his way with you. 

“Oh my God.” you breathed out, letting your eyes raise up to the mirror on the ceiling to watch him at another angle. Your mouth fell open as his tongue lapped at your dripping arousal and swirled it and his spit around a bit more. “George.”

He hummed softly for you to feel the vibrations from his lips as he licked and sucked greedily over your folds, smearing your wetness over his mouth. You held your hand in his soft brown hair, watching him intently through the mirror as his head worked between your legs. With only the slightest touch, he could make you feel so damn good. You only craved more. 

George slid his tongue right up between your lips and let out a dreamy sigh before pushing it inside you. Your legs flinched and he held them open and in place as he fucked you with his tongue and his nose nearly brushed your aching clit. 

“Oh God.” you whimpered, “Fuck, baby-“

George flicked his tongue faster inside you, moaning greedily into your body as your hips rutted against his face. But then he pulled back suddenly, eyes raising to your face even as you stared up at the mirror reflection on the ceiling, and he slowed right down, dragging his tongue in calculated patterns between your folds. You spread your legs a little wider and George only grinned as he shifted along with you and held your legs back closer towards your chest in two large hands. 

It didn’t take you long to feel his precise motions of his tongue were actually spelling out his name letter by letter, first and last, over and over. He was claiming you as his in the quietest, filthiest, most discreet way; a way for just the two of you to know. He was making you drip but you craved more. 

You tugged at his hair with one hand and reached down to spread yourself open between two fingers with your other. George chuckled against you, moving to wet open mouthed kisses over your cunt before taking his hand from your thigh to push your fingers away and take over himself. 

He kissed over your clit, keeping his movements slow and gentle as his swollen lips pressed like heaven against your aching core. You were breathing hard in pleading anticipation, staring down your body again to watch his tongue drop out to press down against your clit. Your sharp gasp had him smiling proudly, his eyes locked on yours for a moment as he kept his tongue pressed down strongly in place. 

“Please.” you breathed out, trying to rock your hips to get him to move but he held you in place by your waist. You tugged at his hair, whining pleadingly, “George, baby, please-“

George pulled back with a wet slurp and he licked his lips before bringing his right hand up and slid two fingers in his mouth. You exhaled deeply in anticipation, watching as he slicked up his middle and ring finger in spit with his eyes locked on yours. His left arm slid around your lower stomach to hold you down as his right hand slid down between your folds to collect more of your wetness around them. 

Your feet were resting against his shoulders as you kept your legs bent back to give him room and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from your spread legs as he rubbed his fingers through your arousal until you could hear the thick sound of wetness. George rubbed his fingers between your folds a bit stronger, swirling them around your entrance teasingly, watching how your muscles cleaned for him. 

“Okay, gorgeous,” George whispered before slowly easing his middle finger inside you, “just relax.” 

You hummed peacefully, letting your head fall back gently against the pillows as he pushed his single finger all the way into you. He groaned softly at the gentle squeeze of your body and started easing it out and then back in, watching how your arousal clung to his skin with each gentle thrust. 

“That’s it.” George breathed, landing a kiss to your inner thigh as his finger worked slowly back and forth and you stayed perfectly still for him. 

But then he was adding his second finger and you gripped tighter in his hair, whimpering shakily as the slight stretch pushed across your muscles. Right away, his tongue dropped down to your clit, easing the slight discomfort with reassuring licks that made your walls clench around his fingers. 

“More.” you pleaded softly, “Please, baby. Please, Georgie.” 

“I got you, sweetheart.” George hushed you gently. 

He started to pump his fingers into you slowly and, at the same time, licked strongly over your clit. His mouth was so warm and his fingers were so slender that you couldn’t even form words for a moment, simply staring up into the mirror with an open mouth as he found home between your bent legs. The sight of your hand in his hair felt surreal enough as it was and as his tongue flicked faster over your core, you couldn’t help but grip tighter to the strands with a soft groan. 

George’s fingers nudged themselves deeper and curled upwards in steady strokes, caressing you from the inside out as his mouth only stimulated you more at your clit. His left arm that was tucked under your thigh and across your abdomen held you down for him and he helped himself to your body with pride. Your legs slipped back over his shoulders as his fingers fucked into you faster and the pleasure had you almost folding into yourself, legs wrapping around his head as your fingers tugged at his hair and shaky moans fell from your lips. 

George basked in it, humming contentedly against your most sensitive spot as he kept his steady pace. Your legs were nearly clutching his head between your thighs but he didn’t falter, fingering you in rapid flicks as his tongue swirled messily over your clit, and the room started to fill with your moans and gasps growing louder and louder. You couldn’t contain yourself - he felt far too good and nothing like you had ever imagined before - and despite your pleasurable sounds that were taken by the island breeze, you didn’t dare to stop. 

“George.” you cried out to the ceiling, ankles linking behind his shoulder blades as you nearly tugged him right into your body. With one hand in his hair, your other grabbed the material of his white shirt over his shoulder to pull on too, somehow desperate to have him impossibly closer as your toes curled. “George.” your head tossed back against the white sheets as your back tried to arch off the bed in overwhelming bliss that tightened in your stomach. You stared up into the mirror to watch him between your legs as your hips pushed up against his mouth and his fingers moved at their quick consistent pace while his mouth moaned hungrily around your clit. You swore you were seeing stars as he brought you close and with a few more shallow pants and whimpers, your mouth was falling open with a soft cry of, “O-Oh- George-“

He drank you up with ease, pulling his fingers out to rub at your clit through your orgasm so his tongue could taste every sweet drop that pooled out of you. He groaned pleasantly, slurping and sucking hungrily at your pussy as your legs trembled and your body shuttered with pleasure. You pulled at his hair and his shirt, messing his hair and crinkling the fabric as your eyes rested shut and you basked in the warm waves of beautiful pleasure that washed over you with the tropical breeze. 

George shifted out from the lock of your ankles and you let him shuffle up your body between your spread legs to kiss your swollen lips. Right away, his tongue met yours in sloppy blissful harmony and at the taste of yourself in his mouth, you pushed your head up to kiss him harder. He moaned softly into it, letting his hand cradle your jaw for a moment as he licked his way through your mouth before tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. 

When he pulled back again, you huffed in protest, arms draping lazily over your head as you stared at him longingly. George moved gently but persistently as he sat back on his knees between your spread legs and your eyes dropped to his hand that wrapped around his dick and he stroked it a few times, just enough to show off how hard he was again. You habitually pushed your thighs together tightly as you watched him touch himself but mere seconds later, he was patting his thighs. 

“Come here, sweetheart.” 

The gentle instruction could have melted you and as you moved to sit up, George shuffled closer to the middle of the king size bed on his knees. He held out his hands to you to help you scoot forward and up onto his thighs and you couldn’t help but let your lips find his neck again as you pushed off his unbuttoned shirt from his shoulders. 

George caressed your hips, your body so close to his you could feel his dick pressed up between your legs to rub against your clit when you moved. You groaned against his neck as your hips rutted lazily against his just to feel the hard shaft of his cock rubbing blissfully against your sensitive core. 

“God, you’re so pretty.” George mumbled as his hands soaked you up greedily. “You ready, baby?” 

“Please.” you agreed easily. 

“No condom,” he whispered to you as you shuffled up onto your feet on either side of him and he spread his knees slightly, “because I know how much you love to take it raw.” 

“Yeah.” you breathed into his neck as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, speaking before you could really think about it, “Put a baby in me.”

George chuckled softly as his hands groped your ass and you settled teasingly on the head of his dick and lingered there a moment to feel the anticipation of what was about to happen for one more moment. You had waited so long. He left a few wet kisses on your neck and lifted his lips up to your ear to whisper, “As you wish.” 

His large hands helped to guide you down on his dick, staring up at your face to watch how the strong stretch to your muscles made your expression tighten as you sank down on him. Regardless of the slight pain, you focused on the fact that you could feel every curve and every vein on his thick cock as your body sheathed him perfectly. You could feel yourself salivating as you only got him deeper and deeper, staring into his lustful blue eyes in the light of the afternoon sunshine that danced in through the wide open windows and his hands cradled your body carefully and lovingly. George was biting his lip strongly, his eyes locked on yours despite the quiet deep groans that fell from his chest as you squeezed around him so tightly. 

You finally bottomed out, ass pressed against the tops of his spread thighs, and you were nearly sure he was at your cervix. You let out a shaky sigh and held your hands snugly on his shoulders to steady yourself to ease back up his length a little and then drop back down. George hissed softly at the sudden motion but gladly followed your small bounces with his hands on your waist, groaning as he leaned into your chest to kiss over your lace clad breasts that bounced gently in his face. 

“Fuck, darling, you feel so good.” George whispered against your skin, his breathing heavy already and only falling weaker as he lazily started meeting your halfway with little thrusts. 

“Shit!” you squeaked softly, sliding your hands from his shoulders to wrap your arms around his neck as your lips dipped down to find his. 

George moaned against your mouth, easing you up and down by his hands as his hips kept soft thrusts in time with it and you held yourself steady on your feet against the mattress and moved with him. You kissed sloppily for a few seconds before having to pull back to breathe and your head fell back with a shaky sigh. George went for your neck, kissing and sucking over your skin as you stared up at the ceiling mirror above you and followed each of your gentle bounces and how he moved right with you.

“You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart.” George said against your neck, “You take my cock so well, my love.” 

His dirty words had you moaning for more, trying to bounce on him faster. George shushed you softly and stopped you completely so you were placed right down on his lap, and he tucked your legs around his waist before shifting off his knees to sit against the sheets. He draped his legs out beneath you and wrapped his arms around your body as well and squeezed you close to feel more of him. No instructions needed to be shared as you wrapped your arms around his head and nuzzled into his neck and started grinding right down on him in strong circles. 

“Oh, good girl.” George panted. “Oh, fuck, baby, that’s my good girl.” 

“You’re so big.” you whined against his ear as your right hand tangled in the back of his hair and your grinding turned into messy little bounces. “F-Fuck, baby, I can feel you so deep-“ 

“You’re so perfect. You’re so fucking perfect, darling. C’mere.” George leaned his head back slightly to find your lips and you whimpered pleasantly into the off centered kiss before your tongues met and led you into deep passionate lazy kisses. 

With cheeks flushed pink, you felt as though you had reached the peak of life’s blissful offerings right there, that nothing on earth could be this incredible. The taste of his lips, the heat of his touch, the steady stretch he pushed so deep inside you; it was heavenly. Sitting entangled together in the middle of the king size bed was where you had always dreamt to be, and your eyes fluttered closed as his lips found your neck and you ground down on him steadily. You wanted to feel everything and to bask in each second that passed because who knew how long you would have him to yourself. You wanted him forever, to never leave, to fit together as one until the end of time. You couldn’t think of letting him go. Not after this. 

Your thoughts seemed to spiral and your hips slowed down on him until you were barely moving, simply clutching onto him and staring into space against his neck. George sensed your change and slid his hands up your hips and to your face, cradling your cheeks in his hands to bring your lips to his for a few tender kisses. 

“I love you.” he whispered. 

“I love you.” you replied just as quietly. 

“You are my everything.” George breathed, his lips brushing yours as he spoke so closely. “You are the love of my life.”

“George.” you said bashfully, trying to hide the blush of your cheeks that he kissed over. 

“I mean it,” he whispered against your ear, “I love you.”

It was as if those three words sparked an eternal flame in your stomach, soaring up through your heart and your chest and through your cheeks and right down to where he was tucked deeply inside you. You had him. All of him. For an afternoon, for a weekend, and what felt like was to be a lifetime. You shivered in his arms, held by him right up to his chest until you felt completely encompassed and the warm ocean air wafted through the billowing sheer curtains and wrapped around the both of you like a ribbon to tie you together for the rest of time. It felt so easy with him, there, like that, and you slid your hands out of his hair and down his jawline, keeping your eyes on his. 

“I love you, my sunshine.” you breathed, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs before leaning down to kiss him again. 

George locked your bottom lip between his two, savouring your few kisses between gentle wet smacks of parting and breaths of meeting, and secured his arms around your body. He lifted you up slightly and you clung onto him, focussing on his lips on yours as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he gently laid you down onto the fluffy white sheets. He pushed deeper into you, urging your head back against the pillow and you broke your kiss with a soft gasp, staring up into his eyes as he repeated that action, easing into you again so you could feel every inch of him. 

“There.” he cooed, pushing in deep again. “Good?”

You nodded, “So good.”

“Okay.” George smiled softly and leaned down to kiss you. 

You let your lips lock with his, arms raising to drape around his shoulders as he thrusted steadily into you. He was nearly pulling out all the way before pushing back in deep but he still managed to kiss you right through it, sharing heavy breaths and soft moans between your lips. With your hands on his bare back, you could feel his muscles tensing and moving along with him and you felt how the sun kissed glow of his skin under your fingertips was soft with touches from

paradise. George dropped his head to your neck with his forearms rested on either side of you and moved his hips into yours in intoxicating curling thrusts that tingled every single nerve in your body. 

The reflection in the spotless mirror above you only made your body flush hot in desire as you stared up at it from over George’s shoulder. You could see every inch of his bare skin that way and could follow your hands as you soaked up his body down his back and to his thighs, pulling him in with hands and ankles linked behind his back. With each deep curling thrust into you he was groaning against your ear, filling your soul with the bliss of his pleasure that you were bringing him. It made you crave more of him; having him on top of you and inside you wasn’t enough anymore. 

Your hands pressed into the muscles of his back like he was moldable sand and your linked ankles pressed the heels of your feet into his bum to pull him deeper with each rock of his hips. Your teeth had trapped your bottom lip and you stared up into the mirror to watch him have you right in the centre of the king size bed. He smelt like the ocean, like the salty fresh air, like freedom. 

“More.” you whispered before you could think. “I want more of you.” 

George hummed against your neck and left a fleeting kiss under your ear, “Hang on, sweetheart.”

You reached for him as he sat back from you on his knees and pulled your legs out from around his waist. He lifted them up to his shoulders and sent you a small smile as he rested one hand down gently on your lower stomach and pushed his hips into yours again. He could get so much deeper that way and your eyes nearly rolled back in your head when he nudged against your innermost muscles. 

“Better?” George asked softly. 

The afternoon tropical sun that came in through the large open windows glinted against his abs and the muscles of his torso in the thin sheen of sweat that was forming. His sandy brown hair was ruffled messily on top of his head and falling over his forehead as he stared down at you with blue eyes like the ocean. They sparkled. 

“Yeah.” you answered, sliding your hands up his arms. 

George leaned back down over you and your ankles linked together behind his neck as your eyes met and he thrusted slowly into you again. You could see him slightly clench his jaw as he sheathed inside you all the way and his soft groan urged your hands to hold tighter to his biceps. He found his pace again with deep curling thrusts that had your eyes fluttering closed and your teeth to sink into your bottom lip with a pleased whimper. 

“Gonna go faster, darling.” George whispered. 

“Please.” you agreed with ease. 

His hands gripped tighter to the sheets on either side of you to ground himself slightly as he sped up, pulling back to thrust into you faster and used the slight spring in the mattress to his benefit. 

“Yeah.” you sobbed out without thinking, letting your gaze drift past him again to the mirror. 

You could feel his warm breath and his soft grunts in time with his thrusts against your cheeks, but you didn’t tear your eyes from the sight of him in the reflection above you down to your legs hooked over his shoulders. He kept pulling back to push down into you again and again, focusing harder rather than curling because having you bent so much already had him teasing your g-spot. You were waiting for it, your breath constantly freezing in anticipation in your chest, and you looked back at his face with hands clung onto his arms. He kept your eye contact, sharing breaths as he shifted slightly higher and tried a bit of a newer angle to watch how your mouth dropped open slightly. 

“Right there?” George asked with a soft chuckle. 

“Uh huh. Right there.” you nodded quickly. 

“Okay, baby. I got it.” George whispered, holding himself up on his hands beside your head as he pulled out of you just long enough to shove back in. 

“Oh God.” you cried out. 

“Tell me if it’s too much.” George breathed. 

You only shook your head as he continued, fucking down into you in quick thrusts to hit that perfect spot inside you each time. As he got harder, the faint crash of waves on sand from the beaches were hidden behind the steady slap of his skin on yours and your breaths mixing between shared soft grunts and moans. Your hands moved from his biceps to his waist and you followed each of his messy movements eagerly, savouring each delicious thrust as you tried to pull him impossibly deeper. 

“Mmm, you feel so good.” George mumbled. “Are you close?” 

You couldn’t deny the lust in his voice that only helped his perfect strokes to make you near dizzy and you could only nod out a shaky, “Mhm.” 

“Yeah?” he taunted breathlessly, his accent thick with lust, “I want to make you cum, baby. I want to feel your pretty pussy cum for me.”

“George.” you whimpered at his words. 

He only worked harder, keeping that consistent pace that had your toes curling and your nails digging into his back. He wouldn’t stop staring at you, even when your face screwed up in pleasure and your pleading moans fell from your lips. 

“Feel me.” George whispered. “Feel how deep I am…how good it feels…feel my body on top of you.”

“George.” you cried shakily.

“How much I love you.” 

“Oh my God-“ your voice was wavering as you felt your stomach tighten and your muscles clench down on him. 

“That’s it, gorgeous.” George praised, not hesitating for a moment through his consistent pace and perfect angle. “Fuck, you look so pretty. Shit, baby, I wanna put all my love into you…always.” 

“Please, George, please, baby-“ you cried out shakily. 

He groaned lowly, eyebrows furrowing in perfect pleasure, his skin slapping filthily with yours until you could feel him twitch slightly inside you. He bit his lip strongly, letting you scratch up his back in your efforts to cling onto something. 

“Cum with me, darling.” George panted. “On 3…okay?”

Your pleading whimper was agreement enough. 

George couldn’t help but thrust into you a little faster, “Okay, gorgeous. 3…” 

You stared up at him, focussed on nothing else in the world but the addicting fullness he could give you and the raw pleasure that ripped through your body. He was a wonder on top of you and you slid one hand to the back of his neck. 

“2…” 

It was hard to hold back but for him you would do anything, especially as he stared into your eyes under those long lashes and wisps of brown hair. You didn’t even need to touch yourself to feel close, already wanting to let go even if he was making you hold it for a few seconds longer. 

“1…”

George barely caught a breath and didn’t even wait a full count before rushing out a, “Now.”

You didn’t need any other instruction; that simple word was enough to send you over the edge. Your right hand flew to his hair to have something substantial to grab onto as you came and he shoved right into you and held it there for a few seconds as your muscles squeezed down on him. George’s head tossed back slightly as he let a loud moan fall from his throat and you felt the first spurt release inside you. You whimpered pitchily, eyes screwed shut and back arching blissfully off the perfect white sheets. George easily slid his arm under your waist and pulled back just enough to push nice and deep inside you again as he whimpered and groaned and filled you up with warm shots of cum. 

It was heavenly, especially feeling how he pulsed inside your tight muscles with each burst, and his face of pleasure was nothing short of perfection. You cried his name blissfully, not caring if any strangers could hear you through the open windows from the beach, and your moans were sung through the summer breeze. You clung onto him as he held you close, leaning up slightly to swallow his pleasant moans with your lips and you kissed lazily for a few moments as the intensity of your orgasms subsided. 

Both of you pulled back from your kiss at the same time to breathe, sharing soft smiles as George carefully let your legs rest down against the bed. He slid out of you and reached a hand down to soothe your sensitive wet body with gentle touches as he shuffled onto the sheets beside you. You left your legs spread lazily and let your eyes linger on his face while he rubbed his fingers softly over your folds and finally down your thigh, smearing the mix of your cum over your flushed skin and linked his finger in the lace band of your garter. With a pleasant hum, you leaned in towards him and kissed his lips softly, smiling into it as he melted against your touch and kissed you back. 

His hand raised to your chin, holding you there as you shared lingering breathless kisses before he left one more to your nose in conclusion. With a tired sigh, he laid flat beside you and you both stared up into the mirror above as you steadied your breathing and tried to compose yourself over what just happened. 

George seemed to read your mind as he broke your silence, “That was incredible.” 

“Yeah.” you chuckled softly. “That was...amazing.” 

George leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek before he was shuffling the white sheets up around your bodies to keep somewhat decent with the wide open windows and ocean breeze that left you exposed. You moved carefully with him as he draped his arm around your shoulders and you cuddled into his side while sharing a down-filled pillow. Your arm tucked around his middle and you slid your fingers over his abs and rested your hand against his chest, smiling to yourself at the feeling of his strong heartbeat under your palm. He kissed your forehead and brushed his thumb over your bare shoulder lazily, letting his eyes close with his cheek against your head as if ready for a late afternoon nap. 

Your eyes drifted up to the mirror again as your head rested on his shoulder and you let your eyes soak up the image of the two of you together. It looked surreal, like a painting created of the brightest and most vibrant hues of the sun and the ocean and the sand, although you were sure there was no better composition on earth. George’s eyes were closed, long lashes resting against his flushed cheeks, and his nose was pressed to your head like he was trying to inhale your scent into his dreams. You didn’t move an inch as you stared up at him and let your eyes trace each curve of his muscle and the lines of his body and up his opposite arm that was lazily tucked up behind his head of messy brown hair. He was peaceful...serene...tranquil, and a sight more breathtaking than any corner of the remote island you found yourself on. 

In the silence only taken up by the distant crash of waves and songs of tropical birds, you spoke, “Whoever put that mirror up there was a fucking genius.”

George’s lips turned up into a smile and he shifted slightly without opening his eyes, leaving a kiss to your temple. You let your eyes close too and cuddled closer into him, even as your body shifted and started to push out some of the thick creamy liquid that had claimed you from the inside out. Your soft flat hum had him kissing your head again and his fingers danced along the back of your neck in feather soft patterns. 

“You feeling okay?” George asked in a whisper. 

“Never better.” you answered easily. 

You leaned your head back slightly and stared up at him as he met your gaze and he dipped down to kiss your lips, once, twice, three times, and then dusted one over your cheek as your head found his shoulder again. 

“I love you.” he breathed into your hair. 

“I love you.” you smiled softly, savouring the feeling of his warm skin pressed against your own. 

Your legs tangled together under the white sheets, wrapped up in each other’s arms, with breaths and hearts in steady time. Time felt infinite. The thought of leaving that very crease of the mattress was dreadful to you and you forced yourself to take it minute by minute; caressing his chest with your thumb. His skin was warm and tasted salty with sweat when you kissed him. You trailed slow kisses over his collarbones and along his neck and breathed him in, the faint lingering scent of his cologne and the natural pheromones of his body that only drew you in more and more. 

“I want to stay right here with you forever.” you whispered dreamily. 

“Mm,” George smiled and rubbed his hand tenderly over your back, “Me too.” 

You tightened your arm around his body and linked your leg over his two, ignoring the warm ache of your hips and the thick cream that dripped out of you and onto the sheets below. George shifted slightly and rose his arm up with a stretching groan until his muscles tensed for a moment underneath you. He sighed deeply and dropped his arm above his head, his eyes blinking open to meet your gaze through the mirror on the ceiling. You both broke into bashful smiles in the reflection and he kissed your head once more before taking his arm from around your shoulders and started to move away from you. 

“Where are you going?” you asked quickly, reaching out to grab his arm again. 

“Relax, my love.” George chuckled as he sensed the slight panic in your voice and he stroked your cheek lovingly, “Aren’t you hungry?”

You hadn’t realized it at first, too preoccupied by him, but when he said it you realized how hungry you actually were. You smiled up at him and nodded and he dipped down to kiss you once before you let him shuffle away from you and to the side of the bed. 

The white sheets rested around his waist, showing off the toned muscle of his back and the few red scratches that marked him as yours. Still laying in the middle of the bed, you reached out a hand to rub over his back and his waist as he lifted the corded phone from the bedside table to call the resort restaurant. 

He sounded so professional on the phone as he ordered you each a burger and fries and you rolled over to hide your blissful blush against his shoulder. Your arm snaked around his body and held him close and his hand rested gently over yours against his chest. He thanked the person on the phone before hanging up and rolling over to tackle you down again into the cloudlike king size bed, showering you in kisses to make you laugh gleefully into the tropical air. 

There you laid together, sharing kisses and caresses as the minutes passed by and the waves greeted the shore in rhythmic whispers in the distance. Something about his naked body pressed up and entangled with yours was heavenly and you felt as light as the sheer white curtains billowing in the warm breeze. 

A quarter hour later, there was a knock on the door and both of you glanced across the room to the direction of the small entryway. George was propped up over top of you but you eased him to the side so you could retrieve your order, leaving him with a few quick kisses before grabbing your silk robe from where it had been tossed to the floor. He flopped back onto the bed as you tied up your robe and hurried over to answer the door. 

The island host was standing on the other side when you peeked out, the room service trolley at her side, and she sent you a knowing smile and a whisper of, “How are you enjoying your stay so far? It looks like you’ve been having fun.”

You hand raised instinctively to the side of your neck that was littered in hickeys but you didn’t feel an ounce of embarrassment. You only grinned at her and replied softly, “It’s…incredible. Is this real?”

“It is not a dream, I can assure you of that.” she said with a gentle laugh. 

“How is this real? How could he tell me he loves me so easily…and make love like he meant it?” your words fumbled out of you before you could think. 

She only offered you a, “Don’t question the workings of the island. It’s here to give you what you need. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

You glanced behind you quickly to make sure George wasn’t overhearing before you turned back to her and asked quietly, “I have never felt this…at ease in so long. Peaceful. My heart feels so full. I…I can’t believe this.”

“You’re glowing.” the host complimented. 

“He’s everything I dreamt about and more. He’s…so perfect.” you whispered, resting your cheek against your hand as you held onto the doorframe. “I’m dizzy in love.”

“Well, I’m glad the island could help you!” she slid the small trolley between you, “I just wanted to check in and bring your dinner along with me.”

“Before you go,” you spoke up quickly. 

She stopped herself from leaving and waited for your continuation. 

You shuffled nervously, anxious for the answer she would give you to the question that burned in the back of your mind. Finally, you asked, “What happens when I leave on Monday morning? Will this just…be forgotten? Will I go back to being nothing to him?”

The host sighed, a kind smile unwavering from her face, “Just live in the present and take it minute by minute. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” 

You bit nervously on your bottom lip but before you could answer, a hand was resting on your waist and George was standing right behind you, wrapped in the white down-filled duvet. 

“What’s taking so long over here, darling? I’m starving.” George said lightheartedly, sending a small smile to the host of the island as he stood right up close beside you. 

Without answering him directly, the host just directed more towards you a blanket request of, “Just focus on having a relaxing and calming stay this weekend. You know where to find me if you need anything.”

You and George both thanked her and she headed off down the wood path through the resort once more. He slid his arm tighter around your middle, “What was that all about?”

You leaned your head back against his shoulder to meet his gaze, “Nothin’. Just telling her how much we have enjoyed ourselves so far.”

George gave your hip a squeeze and your bum a little smack and pressed a strong kiss to your neck, “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s eat.” 

You were sure there was no better bliss than waking up tangled in sheets and George’s arms. You stayed in bed for over an hour, cuddling and drifting in and out of sleep as the sun rose over the horizon. After a filling breakfast at the resort restaurant with all your favourite foods lined up along the buffet and piled on your plate, you were guided to the spa. George didn’t leave your side all morning, always staying within arms reach and holding your hand as you checked into your appointment. 

The lady led you down the bamboo lined hallway to the large dark room near the end, lined with candles and infused with natural scents of eucalyptus and sage. The two single beds were resting in the centre of the room and the lady left you to prepare for the massage. 

“I thought I was going to have to do all of this by myself.” you admitted quietly, watching as George untied his robe and laid it over the small chair by the wall. 

“Would you rather be by yourself?” he asked. 

“God, no.” you answered easily. 

George laughed lightly. 

You both undressed to your underwear and draped your spa robes neatly to the side. With your arm over your bare chest, you shuffled onto the massage bed, trying not to shy away from George’s obvious staring from a few feet away. Both of you were perfectly aware that your skin was marked up in love bites and his back donned red scratches, but on Fantasy Island, no one would give a second glance. It was your fantasy after all. 

The thin linens were tucked up your back as you laid on your stomachs and you waited for the two masseuses to enter, letting the warm air and the soothing spa music to relax you. 

“I’ve never had one of these.” George spoke softly. 

You turned your head to look over at him on your left, “You haven’t?”

“Not like this. Just work-related massages…sports massages…this is nicer.” George smiled over at you and reached out a hand from under the blanket. You did the same and your fingers linked together lazily for a moment as you shared a smile from opposite massage tables. 

When the masseuses came into the room, they got you both situated and set up their shared selection of oils and creams. With your head facing down in the cushioned face cradle, you couldn’t see George but even just knowing he was right there beside you was enough to ease any stresses you still had left over from your last few months. The two men worked on your backs first, slicking up your skin in warm oils and working their hands along your muscles beautifully. 

George’s soft groan from your left made you smile to yourself quietly, keeping your eyes closed as you focused on the pressured hands of your masseuse. 

“Ugh, fuck, that’s good.” George groaned, his voice muffled by the linens. “Ohh, yeah.”

“Baby,” you chuckled shyly and reached out your hand towards him, “Stop.”

“Stop what?” George mumbled, lazily taking your hand in his. 

“Stop...being so loud.” 

He only hummed, resting his face back into the bed just as his masseuse pressed his thumbs down into his shoulders. George’s deep moan nearly shot shivers down your spine and right between your legs and you gripped tighter onto his hand. You laid side by side on your individual beds, holding hands between you, and basking in the comforting warmth that relaxed your body and your mind. 

Despite the pleasing deep touch of your masseuse over your stiff muscles, you could really only focus on George’s soft moans and groans that he let out with his tension into the linens. You really were looking forward to your massage but now, you were more looking forward to getting back to the room. 

When the hour and a half was up and the two masseuses left the room to let you rise when you wished, both you and George sighed deeply at the same time. You shared soft laughter between you and glanced over at each other from where you were now laying on your backs. The linens were pulled up your chests, keeping you decent and keeping George’s abs covered to stay somewhat warm. Your hands reached out to find each others again and his thumb rubbed over your knuckles gently, eyes lingering through the dark candle lit room. 

“This was better than I expected.” George admitted. 

“You sure you didn’t want a mud bath or something instead?” you chuckled. 

George shook his head, “No way. This was perfect.” 

With one more squeeze of your hands, you both slowly started to get up and slipped on the robes again. George tied the cloth belt around his waist and you stepped up to set your hand on his arm and pushed a quick kiss to his lips. 

“What was that for?” he chuckled, sliding his arm around your waist to pull you close and kiss you again before you could answer. 

“I just love you.” you shrugged. “And this weekend.” 

George brushed his hand over your messy hair and down your jaw, “I love you too.”

“I feel so slimy from the oils.” you whispered as he leaned in to kiss you softly again. 

“Shower?” he offered between gentle kisses to your waiting lips. 

“Yeah.” you agreed quietly, resting your hands against the front of his robe as you gladly accepted his kisses. 

“With me?” George tried. 

You smiled wider and slid your arms around his waist to cling onto him in a tight hug, “Yes, please.” 

He cradled your cheek in his hand and kissed you deeply, capturing your bottom lip between his two in slow kisses that made your heart race. You pulled him closer until your robe clad bodies were pressed up against each other and shared lingering kisses for a few more seconds. 

Finally, George took your hand and pulled you out of the massage room and into the hallway of the spa, the bright sunlight blinding you slightly as you stepped out into the light, but he just led the way over the soft flooring. A few doors down near the end of the hall were the private change rooms and he pulled you into one without a word. You couldn’t stop a small giggle from falling from your lips as he locked the door behind you and let your body drape around him. 

The set up of the small change room was that of a full bath with additional lockers and seating areas and a sauna in true spa fashion. Along the far side was a full wall of windows framing the bathtub and the glass stand up shower, providing a full view of lush foliage right out towards the white sand beaches and crystal blue ocean in the distance. You let your eyes take in the scenery as George’s arms snaked around your waist and his lips found your neck in wet open mouthed kisses. He didn’t seem bothered by the massage oils that lightly coated your skin. 

You set your hands on his biceps underneath the soft white fabric of his robe and smiled to yourself as his touch sent shivers down your spine, “Baby, you were moaning so loud during the massage.” 

George chuckled against your neck, “So what? It felt good.” 

You hummed softly and he lifted his head up to push his lips on yours. You gladly accepted his kisses, staying slow and gentle. 

In a whisper, he spoke, “Did it turn you on?”

“Maybe.” you teased. 

“All I could think about was having your hands on me like that…with those oils and creams and rubbing it into my body…all over…can you blame me?” His hands slid into yours and your fingers linked lazily together at your sides. His eyes stayed locked with yours as if purposely rising that anticipation between you as your lips rested only millimeters apart. His gaze dropped to your lips then back up. “God, I just want you all over me.”

Your robe dropped before you could even think, his hands and yours at fault to the sudden action before the rush to undress really started. George yanked his robe off too and your eyes stayed locked as you both pushed your underwear down and kicked it to the side. You nearly lunged for him, his arms welcoming you eagerly as your lips met messily and your slick skin met in a perfect warm embrace. His moan wasn’t unlike the ones he had let out during the massage and as his tongue pushed into your mouth, he grabbed your thigh and hiked your leg up around his waist. 

Right in the middle of the room you stood together, in the light of the afternoon sun, bare bodies slick in oil pressed together and hands gripping onto flesh as you kissed. You were sure you were leaving more scratches against his back, clinging onto him tightly as he kissed the air from your lungs. His handprints smeared over your warm skin, muscles eased from your massage and now craving him more and more as he drank you up in his hands. 

“George.” you breathed into his mouth. 

“Come.” he whispered, leaving you with a bite to your bottom lip before taking your hand and pulling you after him into the large glass shower. 

Your eyes lingered on his bare body as he turned on the water and set the temperature, fully exposed to him all naturally in the light of the tropical sun streaking through the window wall framing the shower. He was glowing, not only from the oil that slicked up his skin, but from the paradise that looked so good on him. He was a vision and you still couldn’t believe your luck as he turned back to you, captured your chin in his hand, and parted his lips to lock with yours passionately. 

George grabbed your hips and pulled you into the stream of warm water, blindly kissing through it as the oil was washed from your bodies slowly and your hair was damped to fall over your shoulders and foreheads. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and tilted your head to the side to kiss him deeper, pushing your tongue against his eagerly as your chests pressed together and bodies moulded together. 

George leaned back from your lips and reached a hand up to push his soaked hair back from his face before setting it back around your waist, “You know, baby…”

You stared at his lips as he spoke, watching how he formed each word. 

“That full body massage was so good but...it was missing one thing.” 

“What’s that?” you giggled softly. 

George’s hand slapped down hard against your ass, the water on your skin causing the sound to echo loudly through the shower, “This perfect part of you. I should pick up the slack.” 

You shared soft laughter at his ridiculousness as you both leaned in for more kisses and his hands groped the flesh of your bum, pulling you tighter against him. His dick was pressed against your thigh and could feel how hard he was getting. It only made you tug his lips on yours stronger, letting the water cascade over both of you steadily onto the marble floor. The soft rush of the shower water was the perfect backdrop to your steamy kisses, muting the world around you even if it was on display through the large picture window overlooking the greenery and the distant beach. 

George slowly walked you out of the stream of water and pushed you back against the glass, moving his kisses down your neck before he was dropping to his knees. You exhaled deeply in anticipation, letting him lift your left leg up to drape over his shoulder and his eyes stayed on yours as he kissed over your inner thigh briefly. His large hands slid up your hips and back down to your thighs and your ass, squeezing and rubbing and massaging until you were relaxing under his touch. 

“That’s my girl.” George whispered, kissing over your hips slowly. “Just relax.” 

You pushed your hand through his wet hair lazily, scratching your fingers through the roots just as he sucked a hickey into your thigh. You hummed softly, letting your head roll back gently against the window and your eyes fluttered closed as he slid his hand between your legs. He rubbed slow stripes back and forth over your folds, just enough to feel how wet you were while still teasing you agonizingly slowly. 

“George.” you breathed, trying to push your hips towards him, “Please, baby.” 

He shuffled closer on his knees, stretching your leg a bit farther over his shoulder to spread you open for him to lean in and swipe his tongue along your folds. Your breath shuttered in your chest as he licked his lips free of the taste of you and let his eyes raise up to yours as he moved back in again. His tongue glided strongly between your legs, parting your lips to taste some of the sweet arousal that pooled out of you and he moaned pleasantly against your damp skin. 

“Holy...fuck, George.” you whimpered shakily, dropping your head to look down at him with our hand in his hair as he suckled and licked and kissed over your cunt. 

His large hands slid up your thighs and around your body to grope your ass. Your hips pushed off the window slightly towards his face and gave him room to spank you lightly before he grabbed tightly to your flesh and pulled you closer to his mouth. 

His tongue slid up to your clit and he swirled strong circles over it to make your fingers grip tighter to his hair as your whole body flinched. A soft shriek fell from your lips and you scrunched your nose up as he found a steady pattern with his tongue. His hands stayed on your ass, massaging your flesh as he pressed strong swirls against your clit and finally let one hand move to spread you open between thumb and forefinger. 

You squealed his name as he sucked hard over your clit, your heel pressing against his back between his shoulder blades to keep his face between your legs. Both your hands gripped tightly in his wet hair as you rolled your hips against his face and he stared up at you behind long lashes, not faltering for a moment. His mouth made filthy wet sounds against your body as he sucked and licked his way through your most sensitive spots, yet was muffled by the drone of the shower still running just behind him. 

“Baby,” you cried out softly, moaning softly through the glass shower, “George…sweetheart…Geor-G-George, baby-“

He only moaned louder against you, pressing his tongue down harder and flicked it back and forth faster and faster as his hands squeezed your ass. You tossed your head back against the glass, biting your lip desperately as you whimpered and moaned through the echoing shower, and rubbed your hips harder against his face. 

“God, you taste so,” George paused for one more strong lick, “so fucking good.” 

He rose up from his knees no matter how much you tried to keep him there with your hands in his hair and your leg around his back. George only shifted your leg from his shoulder to his waist and he pushed you back against the window harder, trapping you snugly against his body. His hard cock naturally fit between your legs and you couldn’t help but try to rut your hips against it desperately, letting out a strangled little cry just as he leaned in to kiss you again. You could taste yourself on his mouth and you held his face in your hands as you sucked on his tongue and lips and savoured his sloppy kisses. 

You couldn’t even worry about what anyone else might see from the outside of the window as you were far too concerned with what was happening inside. The layers of foliage would hopefully disguise you enough. With your bare body pressed against the glass wall, George held you there strongly by a hand on your shoulder as his other dropped between you to angle his dick between your legs. 

“Yes. Please.” you whispered to him, tugging your leg up higher around his waist to spread yourself open and he slid the tip between your folds, back and forth. You bit your lip again, arms draped around his shoulders, staring at his concentrated face as he watched himself tease you. But in a sudden instant, he was pushing strongly inside you.

Your jaw fell slack at the stretch, whimpering softly as his eyes rose to yours and he groaned lowly between you. He fit inside you so perfectly that you couldn’t hide the hint of a smile that grazed your face. George’s hands dropped to your ass again and he hoisted you closer until your tiptoe was barely left on the wet tile floor, your body pressed flush against his as he was buried nice and deeply inside you. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” George whispered, his lips grazing yours with how close you were, “And you feel so incredible, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck me.” you blurted out quietly, staring him right in the eyes. 

“Of course.” George chuckled softly, leaning in for a sloppy kiss as he hiked you up higher against the window and you let your other leg join around his waist. He shuffled in place to make sure he had a good grip on you and he pushed your back against the glass, having been warmed by the tropical island heat. 

He rolled his hips into you slowly at first, his hands gripping tightly to your ass to pull your body into each motion. Your breathing was falling shallow and in time with each other, staring into each other’s eyes in your close proximity, and your hand slid into the back of his wet hair. George started to thrust into you deeply, pulling out and pushing back in with long slow strokes that had you moaning pleasantly at the beautiful stretch. His lips captured your gaze and you couldn’t help but stare at the perfect shape of his cupid’s bow and the plush enticing curves begging for a kiss, entranced by the sight of him and his every detail, especially as his teeth sunk gently into the supple pink flesh of his bottom lip. 

He pushed a little stronger into you, groaning lightly between you as he did so and you linked your ankles together behind his back to keep him nice and deep. His eyes stayed on your face, your body shifting slightly against the window with each strong slow thrust, up and back down, again and again. 

“More, baby, please.” you begged quietly. 

George’s lips perked up at the corner in a small smirk before he pushed into you stronger. 

“Yeah-“ you breathed, gasping as he shoved into you harder. “Shit-“

“Good?” he asked breathily. 

“Harder. Faster. Gimme more.” you ordered, wrapping your arms around his shoulders tighter as his hips pushed against yours with more force. You moaned softly as he picked up speed, your eyes locked as he fucked into you sharply. 

George’s hands on your ass kept you open wide for him to use and his heavy breaths fell in rough pants infused with quiet grunts and moans with each snap of his hips. He kept his legs spread slightly to keep balance in the shower and held you against the window for support as he bounced you on his dick in time with his hard thrusts. 

“George! Fuck! Yes!” you squealed, clawing up his back as your forehead fell gently against his. “Oh my God!” 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. You’re so fucking perfect.” George mumbled between you. 

You pushed your lips on his, both of you moaning through ungrateful kisses as he fucked you against the window. One of his hands moved to press against the glass beside your head, his tongue fighting its way into your mouth through your shared groans as you clung onto him desperately. 

Despite the water that was still running through the shower, the wet clap of your skin together overpowered it with ease. You had to break your kiss to breathe, gasping in pleasant overwhelm as your head fell back and his lips met your neck, your fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close. 

“Oh, George-“ you cried shakily. 

“Say my name, baby.” he groaned into your neck. 

“George.” you repeated in a tone dripping with lust. 

“Fuck.” he grunted, grabbing one of your breasts in his hand as he pounded into you harder. 

“George!” you gasped, tugging at his hair as your head fell back against the glass. “Oh, George, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum!” 

But then he stopped suddenly and didn’t even give you a chance to complain before he was setting your feet down on the ground and spun you around to face out of the large paned window. Your hands instinctively went to the glass just as he slid his dick between your legs and you pushed your hips back to help him inside you again. Your shaky moan at the return of the stretch and his hands finding your hips and his lips meeting your neck. 

His hands kept your legs straight and together, creating the tightest little spot for him to squeeze into and right away, he was fucking into you roughly. Your hands squeaked down the slightly steamy glass as your chest pushed out a loud moan and you tried to push back on him for more. His breath was hot against your neck, one arm around your middle and the other gripping one of your breasts as he pounded into you, groaning hungrily against your wet skin. 

Your eyes struggled to stay open but you let yourself take in the beautiful nature that surrounded the resort, displayed right before you out the window wall of the spa shower. From the breeze ruffling the trees to the muted crash of waves onto the sandy shore, it was beautiful and serene and not a person in sight to stumble upon your steamy shower scene. 

The shower only echoed the filthy loud clap of George’s skin on yours that grew only louder as he sped up. You reached a hand back to tangle in his hair, arching your back for him to have him ramming into your g-spot perfectly. 

“Oh, fuck, baby!” you squealed. “Right there! Please, please, please!”

George’s teeth sunk into your shoulder gently, moaning loudly against your flesh as your pussy squeezed around him tightly. You were just so warm and wet he couldn’t get enough, his hips snapping against yours at nearly record speeds, driven by fierce desire. 

He clung onto you possessively, groaning against your ear, “That’s it, beautiful. Cum on my cock. Come on. Show me how much you love me, baby girl.” 

“Geo-o-o-rge-“ you sobbed out blissfully in time with his rough thrusts, tugging harder at his hair over your shoulder as your other hand dropped to swirl messily over your clit. “F-Fuck!”

“Good girl, sweetheart.” George praised, his warm jagged breath sending shivers down your neck, “Shit, you’re squeezing me so fucking tight, darling.”

“Cum inside me.” you whimpered. “I want it so fucking bad!” 

“You’re so fucking dirty, baby. I love you so fucking much.” George groaned, smacking your hand away from between your legs to take over for you. His slender fingers rubbed rough circles over your clit as he pounded into you from behind and your whole body shuttered with overwhelming pleasure. 

You couldn’t even speak for a moment, breath knocked from your lungs, and you just stared out the window with your mouth hanging agape. Finally, your chest heaved with a sudden inhale and your legs trembled beneath you as warmth spread through your stomach and you rushed out a pitchy, “Fuck, George, I’m cumming!” 

He held you upright in his arms as you came around him, your moans and cries echoing through the shower, as he fucked you through it as your pussy clenched down on him so hard he nearly stumbled. He followed seconds later, shooting thick shots of cum deep inside you with loud groans let out against your neck, his hands gripping your body wherever he could reach. You breathed heavily, your muscles pulsing around him to accept him all as his dick twitched inside you with each messy spurt. 

“I love you.” you whimpered out, eyes falling closed as he kissed your neck through the tapering off of your orgasms. 

“Mm,” George smiled against your wet skin and he gave your hips a little squeeze, “I love you.” 

You leaned your head back against his shoulder and led his lips to yours for a proper kiss, staying there for a few more seconds just to savour the moment. The running shower swallowed the sounds of your kisses and washed away the thick white cream that dripped out of you as he pulled out. But he dropped to his knees behind you and spread your ass in his large hands and leaned in to lick up the mess that was leaking out of you. 

Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head, pressing your hands against the glass to keep yourself upright as he licked and sucked over your aching and sensitive pussy to help clean you up. He wasn’t there for too long and he sat back to spank you hard and then massaged your flesh with his snug grip. George left a few kisses over your thighs and ass and hips as he stood and then went back for your neck. 

You hummed through your pleasant smile, leaning your head to the side to give him room as his arms snaked around your waist and he swayed you side to side ever so gently. His gentle kisses on your neck felt like heaven and you couldn’t dream of ever leaving his embrace. He smiled gently against your wet skin and rubbed his hands over your stomach lovingly. 

“Let me wash you up.” George whispered. 

You let him pull you over into the stream of the shower, the water still perfectly warm, and you didn’t stray too far from his arms as he reached for the shampoo bottle. The water poured over you both, along your shoulders and down between your bare bodies pressed chest to chest. You couldn’t stop staring at him with your arms around his waist, sharing a smile as he lathered his hands in shampoo and rubbed them into your hair, scratching perfectly over your scalp. His lips pushed onto yours in little gentle kisses as you took the shampoo bottle yourself and slid your own soaped up hands into his brown hair. You shared little smiles between kisses, letting the warm water rinse the suds from your skin and out of your hair and tried not to get soap in your eyes. 

The shower was your haven for the good side of a half hour and when you had washed each other clean of massage oil and plentiful bodily fluids, the feeling of domesticity was thudding in your heart. George turned off the water and grabbed you each a towel from the small bench just outside the shower and you dried off and redressed into your robes. 

For the remainder of the day, you relaxed by the resort pool with bottomless tropical drinks and perfectly hot temperatures. You in your strapless bikini and George in his swim shorts, you laid side by side on the beach chairs and tanned in the afternoon sun, proudly ignorant to the hickeys that littered both of your bodies. No one would give you strange looks anyway; certainly not on Fantasy Island. You were there to live your absolute best life, no matter what that was defined by. It also meant you didn’t get a sunburn no matter how long you laid out in the direct sunlight, returning into the resort hand in hand for dinner with matching perfect tanned glows. 

On Sunday, the final day, you felt as though you were set for life. This was it, wasn’t it? Him and you forever in paradise? The booked flight set for the next day or the entire reason why you needed to get away in the first place seemed to be the last thing on your mind. Making love to George all over the island seemed to have that effect on you and waking up to his sleepy peaceful face just made it all even better. He knew how to touch you to forget all of your stresses and all of your worries.

And the morning hike around the forestry and the hills of the small island certainly kept you distracted too. George thrived like that, wearing only shorts and his sneakers as the guide led you both through the trees and up steep terrain to see all that the island had to offer. It was a beautiful slice of paradise, that was for sure, but your eyes stayed drawn to the man sticking by your side and how his toned muscles were slick in a thin layer of sweat from the heat. He didn’t complain once when you slid your hand into his, even when the path got thin and he had to hold his arm behind him to keep your grip. 

Lunch was had as a picnic on the top of the island with a scenic view of the crystal blue ocean all around. It was truly picturesque and with your legs dangling off the side of the mountain top side by side with George, you were sure there was nothing better. He told you so too as he kissed you sweetly and held you close while you admired the view. 

By the time you returned to the resort, it was time to clean up for dinner. You shared the shower in your room - strictly to wash this time however - and then picked out the nicest clothes you had with you to wear. In a floor length thin summer dress, you felt like an island princess. Your prince wore khaki shorts and a white button up tucked into the waistband and when he came up behind you in the bathroom mirror, he set a thin crown of white tropical flowers over your hair. He wore a matching flower tucked in the pocket of his shirt. 

The sun wasn’t quite set when you reached the restaurant hand in hand and it cast a lovely yellow-orange glow over the island and George’s smiling face as he held the door open for you. You ate at a table for two overlooking the ocean, sharing a bottle of wine and then a dessert after a satisfying meal, and held hands over the table as often as you could. People might have thought you were honeymooners. 

As the sun set, you found yourself walking along the shore together, strolling quietly and admiring the gentle rush of waves on the sand and the warm tones of the evening sky. George’s hand was snug in yours, a place where he seemed to fit so perfectly, although his gaze was focused out over the water. You were staring at him, absorbing the line of his jaw and the volume of his hair and the way you could nearly see the setting sun reflected in his sparkling eyes. 

You fell to a stop, your hand in his urging him to stop too and he turned to face you.

“What is it?” he asked. 

You smiled, welcoming him closer and your hand that wasn’t in his slid up his chest and to the side of his neck, “Nothing. I just wanted to look at you.” 

George didn’t reply. Instead, he leaned in to kiss your lips ever so gently. Once, twice, and a third time that lingered a little longer than the prior two. 

Before he could pull away, you pulled him back in for more, draping your arms around his shoulders and his snaked around your waist. To the sound of the ocean waves, you kissed the sun down, not a soul in sight on the long stretch of empty beach. Your bodies were pressed together as if never wanting to be separated and you shared sweet tongueless kisses on the sand. 

Finally, when George managed to escape your lips, he turned just behind him and you followed his gaze. There was a small set-up that you hadn’t noticed before; a small group of blankets and pillows laid out neatly on the sand under a little white mesh canopy and framed in fairy lights. The small wooden table held a fresh pitcher of water and two glasses each with a slice of lemon on the sides and a plate of fresh fruit. Fantasy Island always delivered when you least expected it.

“How romantic.” you said sweetly, cuddling into his side as his arm draped around your body. 

George looked back at you and dipped down for a few more kisses, raising his hand to your jaw to keep you there a moment longer. When he pulled away, he brushed his nose over yours and whispered, “I think we should go for a swim first.”

“With what bathing suits?” you laughed lightly. 

George only stepped back from you just enough to untuck his shirt from his shorts and started to unbutton it. You watched him silently as he took another step back towards the ocean and then another, finally pulling his shirt from his shoulders and tossed it haphazardly in the direction of the blankets. 

“We don’t need any.” he answered as he walked backwards ever so slowly towards the ocean, his hands unbuckling his belt and then unzipping his pants. He paused just long enough to push them down, right along with his boxers, and your cheeks flushed pink at the sight of him bare in the setting sun and darkening sky. His clothes made a messy pile beside the small table from where he had thrown them and he curled his finger in your direction to get you to follow as he waded backwards into the lapping waves. 

You glanced down the beach, left and right, to make sure there was really no one in sight. It nearly appeared that the island was vacant except for the two of you. Silent, dim, and empty. You pulled your dress over your head before you could second guess, dropped your panties and unclipped your bra, and hurried after him into the water. 

The silent island welcomed the sudden splash of waves as you both waded ungracefully into the water, sharing excited laughter as your arms reached for each other. You grabbed onto his forearms and tried to lean in for a kiss as you both moved deeper into the warm ocean, but George stumbled over his feet and fell backwards, pulling you down into the water with him in a huge splash. 

You broke the surface again and burst into shared laughter, still thrown on top of him in the waving sea. His hand pushed your wet hair from your face and let your laughter melt away on your lips as your eyes met through the moonlight. 

George pulled you in first by the back of your head, kissing you strongly as you were mostly submerged in the salt water. His other hand held himself up on the sandy bottom of the shallow water and your legs stayed tangled with his in the same messy position you had fallen into. Your kisses were messy through your smiles and made a bit wetter by the salt water that splashed around you, but it was nothing less than perfect. 

You set your hand on his chest and pulled back from your kiss just long enough to say, “We should get away from the shore a bit more.” 

George only leaned in to nibble teasingly at your bottom lip before you were shuffling up again and wading deeper into the ocean hand in hand. When the warm water reached your chests, he scooped you right up into his arms by your thighs and moved in for more kisses. Under the water, your legs wrapped around his body with ease and your arms draped around his shoulders to cradle his head in your hands and kept his mouth on yours. The waves, stained in the faintest orange tones from the sun just peeking over the horizon, splashed around the two of you like you were two pieces of a single marble statue, breaking against your bare skin and spraying gentle specks of salt water over your faces and into your hair. 

George felt warm. Despite the humid tropical weather and the just as pleasant ocean you were in, the warmth of his body felt almost refreshing and comforting. He was warm and living and yours. His large hands slid up your back, letting you float in front of him in the water as his hands traced your body and up into the roots of your hair. 

He inhaled into your kiss as if to breathe you in and you felt his chest push against yours before falling again. You tilted your head to the side to kiss him deeper, your damp hair tumbling over one shoulder as your lips locked in slow passionate kisses. George moaned softly into your mouth, just as both of you pushed out your tongues. They met between your kisses and you shared soft laughter at how in sync you were, but didn’t waste a single second that was to be spent embraced in a kiss. 

You shuffled slightly, shifting your legs more comfortably around his waist in the warm salt water and just enough to dip your hips down to graze against his dick. He was still mostly soft but the touch of the curve of your ass had him sighing deeply into your mouth and his dick twitched ever so slightly underwater. You linked your ankles together behind his back and reached a hand down to wrap around his length, lazily stroking with barely your fingertips as your kiss continued above water. 

George’s hand slid from your hair along your neck and right around to your throat where he squeezed gently, urging you to gasp softly into his mouth. His teeth sunk down into your bottom lip and he soothed it with a lick before he moved his kisses down your neck and his hand dropped lower to your bare chest. He greedily cupped your right breast in his hand, groping it snugly as his teeth sunk into the skin of your neck and his tongue swiped up the lingering taste of salt water. 

“George.” you breathed out, letting your head fall back slightly to give him room at your neck. You blindly wrapped your hand around his dick between you, feeling him harden second by second as you stroked him slowly. 

“God, darling,” George groaned softly against your neck and he kissed right up under your ear to make you shiver, “What are you doing to me?”

“Make love to me before the sun goes down.” you requested gently, tilting his head up by his chin to kiss his lips again. 

“Right here?” George chuckled softly between kisses. 

“Mhm.” 

Your thumb swiped over the head of his dick and you traced the slit at the end lazily back and forth as your eyes locked in your close proximity through the rising night. His breath shuttered in his chest and your lips met again in a few lingering kisses as he kneaded your breast for a moment and then slipped his hand under the water. You kissed lazily as you touched each other, gentle fingers rubbing and stroking and finding the familiarity in each other’s bodies once again. 

George moved down your neck, kissing and sucking over your skin as you let your gaze drift back towards the beach. You did a quick scan to make sure there was no one else around, although Fantasy Island was a place that always seemed to anticipate your next moves. The beach was completely vacant. 

By only the light of the sliver of sun and away from the luminescent glow of the resort in the distance, it was hard to see much apart from each other’s faces and certainly nothing under the water. You moved blindly together as George steadied his feet on the sandy ocean floor and you moved to carefully angle yourself right against the tip of his dick. His hands gripped onto your waist and he almost pulled you down on him, smothering your sweet gasp with his lips on yours as you sheathed around him so perfectly. 

“Oh my God, George.” you breathed, rising your hand against his chest quickly when you bottomed out. 

The sea water made for a bit more friction between you as it tended to wash away that natural lubrication but that didn’t matter; it still somehow felt more than incredible. He felt more than incredible. 

George’s low groan was heavenly and you pulled his lips on yours by the back of his neck. You shared a few sloppy kisses before your heels pressed into his bum to urge him deeper and your hips ground down strongly on him. He pulled a hand from the water to grab your breast again, squeezing your flesh to let his mouth dip down to wrap around your nipple as his hips pushed back against yours. 

“Fuck.” you breathed out, your head falling back as your hands gripped tightly to the back of his head and tangled in his wet hair. He sucked on your breast and formed beautiful little love bites over your flesh as his free hand was held around your waist and was grinding you down in time with him. 

The sun finally disappeared behind the horizon, setting the beach into near darkness apart from the rising moonlight and the haze of light from the distant resort. It was quiet and serene and filled you with an indescribable warmth. The waves only got slightly larger as you tried to rock yourself on him, rubbing your bodies together ungracefully in the ocean water. 

“Give me your legs.” George whispered, shifting slightly to hook your knees over his arms and his hands found your waist again. 

You kept yourself steady with your hands on the back of his neck, staring down into the blackness of the water surrounding you as he lifted you up slightly and then eased you back down on his cock. The trembling whimper that fell from your mouth was his praise enough and he repeated the same action slowly, letting his hips push forward to meet you halfway each time. 

“God, my love, you feel so good.” George breathed between you. 

You rested your forehead against his gently, “Don’t ever pull out.” 

He chuckled lightly, “No way, beautiful.” 

Your fingers tugged gently at the hair at the nape of his neck, “Ever.”

“Ever.” George agreed easily, nudging his nose against yours to kiss you properly. 

The moan you let out into his mouth had him fucking you a little faster, bouncing you on his dick the best he could in chest-deep salt water in time with the messy thrusts of his hips. Your tongues met and lips clashed and you shared shallow breaths and pleasant moans together as the waves crashed around you. 

The moon rose over the horizon, pairing beautifully with the star speckled sky that reflected into the dark nighttime ocean you found yourself in. The stars fluttered and danced over the waves that rocked around the two of you and they sparkled in George’s eyes when he looked at you so close that you could feel his breath on your cheek. Your lips grazed, sharing feather soft kisses in your distraction, and your fingers scratched lovingly through the back of his hair. 

George slid his hands down to your bum and pulled you down all the way, groaning softly against your lips as he rocked your body against his in strong curling motions. You sighed shakily, focusing on the feeling of his thick cock buried so deep inside you it was nearly heaven but the friction from the water seemed to be a bit of a hindrance of getting you any closer. You clung onto him tightly, trying to get more out of it as you rocked your body against his in time with his thrusts. It felt good but you wanted more. 

George’s lips found yours again and you kissed passionately as he guided your motions with ease in the water. You slid your hand down between you and tugged lazy circles over your clit, whimpering pleadingly into his mouth for more. But he took your hand out of the water and pulled you closer, letting you rut up against his body instead. 

“Use me.” he instructed softly. 

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and buried your face in his neck as he fucked you slowly and let you rub against his abs with each thrust. You could only go faster, whimpering against his salty skin as you were nearly humping his body amidst the waves, desperate to edge yourself on and to get closer to that release. George’s hands groped your ass and bounced you faster on his dick, breathing hard against your shoulder and let out a trembling groan as you clenched down around him. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he moaned, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Not yet.” you whined softly. 

“Just trust me.” George said sweetly against your ear. “I’m not going to forget about you, okay? Trust me.”

You only nodded, pulling his lips back on yours for more kisses. George was nearly using you, grinding up into you in steady strokes that had him groaning into your mouth in time. The water splashed around you more as he sped up, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he gripped your ass tighter and pushed on harder. 

“Fuck.” George said through his teeth, his dick throbbing inside you. 

You were so focused on it and his lips that you barely noticed him starting to move until your chest emerged from the warm water. He was walking you back towards shore, still trying to fuck you through each step with his hands on your bum and his hips pushing desperately into yours. Once he reached calf deep water, he eased you down onto your back against the wet sand, keeping your legs hooked over his arms to leave you spread as he stayed nice and deep inside you. 

“Okay?” he asked breathlessly.

You nodded him on, holding onto his biceps as he started to thrust into you again, taking you on the beach as the shallow water rushed around you in steady waves. His moans were beautiful, his forehead resting against yours as his hips did all the work, causing splashes of water and slick smacking of skin on skin to rise across the silent beach. 

“Shit, baby.” you cried out softly, digging your nails into his arms. “Don’t stop.” 

George let his eyes find yours, keeping your strong eye contact as he fucked you quickly on the tropical shore under a blanket of stars. The sand didn’t stick to you and in fact it didn’t feel itchy at all. Fantasy Island was full of perfected versions of things and the white sand beaches that cradled your body in the tide was no different. George dipped down to kiss you a few times through his quick thrusts but pulled back to breathe, licking his lips as he stared down at you. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” he warned softly, his voice wavering, “I’m gonna cum so fucking deep inside you.”

“Yeah. Please.” you whimpered, welcoming his body on yours as he shifted down to his forearms on the sand on either side of your head. “Oh my God, George, come inside me. Please.” 

“Yeah-” he groaned, going faster and faster and faster until his jagged breaths were falling still and his eyes were nearly rolling back in his head. “F-Fuck me-”

Your hands dropped to his waist and you tugged his body towards you so he was inside you as deep as he could possibly go, your mouth falling open as he shot thick spurts of cum right into you. It wasn’t the first time but it certainly felt just as good as ever, your own pleasant moans tumbling from your lips as he claimed you through shaky groans and little grunts, rolling his body into yours to really finish himself off. 

“Oh, God, baby.” George whimpered. 

He leaned down to kiss you right away, capturing your bottom lip between his two for a few strong kisses before he was moving down your neck. The tide splashed shallowly around your bare body as George pulled out of you and easily slid down your body with hungry kisses to land between your legs. He nudged them open a bit farther and watched as the water splashed up against your thighs and the curve of your ass and the moonlight glinted off the thick white cream that trickled out of your cunt. George licked his lips and dived right in, showering you in kisses over your folds before he was licking up the reminisce of his love making. 

Your hands found his hair to hold his face between your legs as he worked to finish you off next, the initial sensations already being enough to let your head drop back against the wet sand beneath you with a soft moan. His lips found your clit and he gave perfect attention to your most sensitive spot, shooting blissful ecstasy down your limbs as he kissed over it before sucking softly through his own pleasant moans. 

“Fuck, George.” you breathed his name to the tropical night sky.

The island felt as though it was echoing your moans and his hungry slurps and wet kisses across the water and through the trees, the emptiness of the land around you made the place feel like your very own private oasis. His tongue on your clit dampened you more after the ocean had tried to leave you clean and he took his opportunity to slick his fingers in your arousal and the sticky mess of cum he claimed you in, and pushed two digits inside you. 

Your trembling “oh” fell from your lips shakily, your breath shuttering in your chest as he pumped them into you steadily and his tongue swirled lazily over your clit. 

George’s eyes raised to yours as he fingered you tenderly and tasted the salt water on your warm skin behind the sweet flavour of your body. He was a beautiful sight between your legs, bare like the essence of man and stained in sea water that splashed up around him in small choppy waves and circled your body in the aftermath. You were one. He was yours. He was all yours in the light of the moon and the glow from the small camping set up left a few metres up the beach. 

“Fuck, baby. Fuck, George-“ you sobbed out, trying to keep your legs back from encircling his head. “Faster.”

He followed your orders, fingering his cum back into you in quick thrusts before he was shoving his fingers deep and flicking them eagerly against your slick walls. His tongue picked up too, rubbing quickly over your clit until you were nearly soaked in spit as much as ocean water. 

“Yeah.” you whimpered, only growing in volume as he kept up, “Yeah. Yeah. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah, baby, yeah, baby- please don’t stop, I’m gonna cum!” 

George nuzzled his face deeper into your cunt, devouring you until you were seeing stars in more than just the night sky above you. Your moans were turning insistent and loud and you tugged at his hair harder, trying to rub up against his face. 

“Oh my-“ your voice fell quiet as that warm tightness in your lower stomach was starting to burst. Your muscles clenched down hard around his fingers and George kept his pace going until your back was arching off the sand and shallow water with an ever so quiet whimper, “Oh, s-sir-“ 

If he hadn’t already came, that title certainly would have finished him off and he moaned loudly against your body as you writhed underneath him and soaked his fingers in your liquids. Your whimpering carried across the waves and the sand and he lapped up every drop until you were pushing his head away with over sensitivity. George kissed your hip and then shuffled up over top of you to kiss your lips. Your arms draped around his shoulders and you tasted yourself on his tongue along with the salt water that was left behind from the ocean. 

“You’re perfect.” George whispered between slow kisses. “You’re so fucking perfect, sweetheart.” 

You took his face in your hands and caressed his cheeks, staring up into his blue eyes that sparkled with the fairy lights up the beach and you told him an honest, “I love you.” 

George smiled and dipped down to kiss you once more, “I love you more.”

A slight chill brushed over you and you shivered in the open air, pulling George closer. 

“Are you cold, baby?” he asked gently against your ear, petting his hand over your head.  

“Just a bit.” you shrugged, rubbing your hands up his bare back. 

“Come on.” George shifted off your body and helped you to your feet with his hands in yours. 

You hurried back up the beach together in your nakedness, trying to cover yourself up the best you could in fear someone was to stumble upon you. But the beach was empty and you were perfectly alone, giving you all the space you needed to settle on the soft pile of blankets and pillows together to dry off. The sand never stuck to your wet skin which was incredible and you patted yourself dry before shuffling into your dress again, leaving your bra and panties to the side. George pulled on his shorts once he had dried off and then joined you under the small canopy of lights. 

Out of the water, the tropical air felt much warmer once again and even without the sun, it was pleasant and comfortable. George arranged the pillows a little to lean back on and he gently pulled you down with him to cuddle up at his side, his arm around your shoulders. His bare torso was claimed by your hand, fingers dancing over his abs and along his pecs. 

George watched you stare at him, his fingers tangling in the ends of your damp hair lazily, and he breathed steadily and peacefully in the tropical night. He leaned down slightly to kiss the top of your head and when you looked up at his face and pushed another kiss to his waiting lips, it sort of sunk in that it was your last night on the island. You frowned to yourself and snuggled closer to him, resting your head on his chest as your arm hugged his body close. 

“I love you.” you whispered. 

“I love you, my beautiful, stunning, incredibly gorgeous woman.” George replied sweetly, rubbing his hand up your arm that was around his middle. He kissed your head again. 

“Georgie.” you breathed. 

He hummed in reply, letting you continue. 

“I don’t want to go home tomorrow. I don’t want to say goodbye to you.”

“Don’t think about that right now.” George tisked, stroking your hair away from your face. “We still have all night.” 

“I can’t help it.” you mumbled. 

He moved his arm as you shifted up to look down at him laying beside you and he draped it under his head, staring worriedly back at you from your obvious uncertainty. Your heart had that familiar ache back, that same ache that you came to the island to cure in the first place. The fact that it was still there made you even more upset and you looked away from him and across the beach with a shaky inhale. 

George spoke your name softly, reaching up to gently turn your head back towards him by a finger under your chin, “Talk to me then, sweetheart.”

“I want to live forever with you.” you spoke as strongly as you could, letting your thoughts fall into the night air, “I want to marry you and have babies with you and live life with you.”

“God, my love, I want that too. So badly.” George whispered, caressing your face in his hand and he swiped his thumb over your cheek. “We’d have such pretty kids too, don’t you think?”

Your bottom lip trembled and you scrunched your eyes closed with a bow of your head to keep him from seeing your emotion.

George tisked sadly and sat up a little, lifting your head in his hands so you were looking at him and his thumbs brushed the few stray tear drops from your cheeks, “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

“I’ve been waiting so long for this...to tell you that I am in love with you...that you are my other half and all my perfect dreams rolled into one stunning man…” you set your hand against his bare chest with a shaky sigh. 

“Baby, I’m not perfect.” George chuckled gently. 

“To me you are.” you whispered. 

He leaned up to kiss your lips softly, ever so gently, sharing a few small chasté kisses as his hand looped around the back of your neck. When you pulled back from his lips, you rested your forehead against his and you both sighed softly in unison. 

“My heart beats for you.” you breathed, taking his free hand from the blankets to rest against your chest over your thin dress. 

George smiled softly at the feeling of your strong heartbeat under his hand and he wrapped his arm farther around your shoulders for a closer hug. You nuzzled your face into his neck and with the hand that wasn’t holding yourself up on the ground, tucked it around his back. 

“I don’t want you to go either.” George finally whispered, his voice barely audible over the rush of the waves crashing upon the shore nearby. 

You held him tighter as if never wanting to let him go, shifting to hold him with both arms and you let out another sob into his shoulder. His hands rubbed up and down your back and he shushed you lovingly, holding you as you cried. You didn’t care who heard you, letting your sorrow echo down the empty beach and over the dark ocean to the ends of the island. 

George’s bare skin was warm and addicting and you held him close as if savouring each inch of his body for any future reference. Your tears dripped onto his shoulder and your sobs muffled into his neck, shameless crying out your emotions to the person you wanted more than life itself. 

“You’re breaking my heart, sweetheart.” George whispered, his voice wavering. 

“Don’t let me go, Georgie.” you begged. 

“Darling.” George sighed, holding you tighter. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m right here.” 

“Are you real?” you asked softly, repeating the very first question you asked him when you walked in on him sitting on that cloud-like king size bed. You sat back on your knees and took his face in your hands as if to analyze him, from the line of his jaw to the tears shimmering in his blue eyes. “Are you really you?”

“Yeah, baby.” George whispered. “But...tomorrow...when you get on that plane...I’ll be back in Monaco and I won’t have any memory of this. At all. I will wake up at home and think that I was just in the city the whole weekend with memories they gave me to fill in the gaps.”

You sniffled as he took your hands from his face and kissed your knuckles one by one as you breathed out a shaky, “You won’t remember me?”

He shook his head. 

“You won’t remember this island or making love all afternoon and all night?”

George left your hands with one more kiss as he smiled sadly and raised his eyes up to yours, “None of it.” 

Your nose scrunched up in near agony and you couldn’t help but press a hand to your heart as if to try and dull the pain. You rested your forehead against his and he held your one hand in both of his as if he never was going to let you go. You had twelve hours left together but it didn’t feel like enough. Time was slipping by like sand in an hourglass. 

“Listen,” George leaned back from you to meet your teary gaze, “let’s have some water and just...cuddle quietly for a bit. It’s beautiful out here.”

You nodded weakly and wiped your eyes with the heel of your palm as he shuffled down the blankets towards the small wooden table. He lifted the water pitcher, only to reveal a small pot of ink topped with a thin silver sewing needle. You moved to sit properly on the blankets as George grabbed the two newly appeared items from the table and stared at them for a moment. He looked over at you. 

“What is that?” you asked quietly. 

You could nearly see his brain turning with thoughts, his eyebrows furrowed in the cutest little expression as he pieced together the two small items in his hands. Finally, he disregarded the water and he hurried to sit at your side once more. 

“Photographs and notes don’t work.” George explained quietly as if someone on the empty beach would be listening into your conversation, “They both will go blank the second you leave the island, right?”

“Right.” you listened quietly. 

“But they can’t erase something that is permanently part of someone.”

“I dunno...they made lingerie randomly appear on me.” you mumbled. 

George laughed lightly and shifted to sit crossed legged, “Clothes aren’t permanent.” 

“What are you doing?” you asked cautiously.  

George set the end of the needle between his lips so he could unscrew the cap of the ink bottle. He carefully took the needle in his fingers once more and then held it in the flame of the candle to disinfect it, “I’m going to tattoo your name on my body so I can force myself to remember you.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat as you stared into his eyes through the warm faded light of the fairy lights surrounding you, “What? Are you sure that’s gonna work?”

“Worth a shot.” he shrugged. He dipped the sharp point of the needle into the black ink. 

“What if it doesn’t?” you mumbled, watching carefully as he shifted across from you and pulled his right foot onto his opposite thigh over crossed legs. 

George glanced back up at you with an honest smile, “Then you better be damn good at convincing me.” 

“George…” you started but he already pressed the tip of the sewing needle into the skin of his ankle. Your eyes widened as you fell into silence and he spelt the first letter of your name with a steady hand and a few dips of ink. 

It was honestly as romantic as it was slightly stupid. The lines were a little wobbly and his cheeks were flushed pink as his teeth bit hard into his bottom lip through the sharp pain of the stick and poke tattoo he was giving himself. 

“When you get on the plane tomorrow-” George hissed softly as the needle poked a nerve but he carried on, “you’re going to ask the pilot to take you to the airport in Nice.”

“George...I dunno…”

“Hey,” he looked up at you seriously, “don’t George me, okay? Do you want me? Did you mean that? That you’re in love with me and you want me for life?”

“Of course.” you answered easily. 

“Good because it’s too late now...I already have half your name inked into the side of my foot.” George said, wiping the excess ink and bit of blood off his lower ankle with the edge of one of the blankets you were sitting on. Two full letters were pressed ungracefully into his skin. 

You smiled softly at him and he returned it as both of you leaned in for a few gentle kisses. He told you he loved you in a whisper as quiet as the tropical breeze ruffling through the starry night and you said the same, kissing him once more before he focused back on his task at hand. 

“When you get to Monaco…” George continued as he worked, his words a little strained at the pain he was injecting into his body, “you’re going to find the café that’s directly across from the Casino…I go there every morning for breakfast. Got that?”

You nodded. 

“You’re going to wait for me there.”

“What if I miss you?”

“Find a hotel and try again the next morning.” 

“What if she’s with you?”

There was a pause and George glanced up at you before dropping his head back down quickly to his ankle, “She won’t be.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t want to think about her right now, sweetheart.” George protested gently yet firmly, “Especially not when I have you here.” 

“What if you won’t leave her for me? What if you don’t remember and this doesn’t work and you won’t believe me when I try to convince you-”

George reached out for you quickly, “Baby, baby, baby, baby, stop.”

You took a shaky inhale, “Georgie, I can’t go through that rejection to my face. Through a screen kills me enough, I…I can’t.”

“Stop. Listen to me, okay? Listen.” George held the needle carefully in his right hand and slid his left up to hold the side of your face. “You’re the only one I want. You’re the only one I feel such a connection with. You’re the only one I’ve fucked unprotected.”

The both of you shared soft chuckles. 

He spoke strongly, “You are mine.” 

“But are you mine?” you tried. 

“Yes.” George said straightly. “I’m yours. My heart is yours.”

You nodded and he sent you a tight smile before turning back to the ink pot and his stained skin. The ocean breeze ruffled through his messy brown hair and you took that quiet moment to admire him in the light from the string of lights that twisted together above your heads. 

You spoke without thinking, “I want this to work.” 

“I know. Me too.”

“I want this to work so badly I might cry.” 

George glanced up at you and your nervous expression and he smiled sweetly, “No more crying, darling, look.” 

You followed his gaze back down to his ankle that presented the uneven inked lines spelling your first name across his skin. He wiped it clean with the edge of the blanket and raised his foot up as he doubled over to blow a soft puff of air over it, nearly falling over in the process. 

“You’re a part of me now.” he whispered, his gentle voice carried by the tropical breeze. 

“I love you.” you breathed. “You’re insane.”

He raised his eyes from the fresh tattoo to your face and he leaned in to kiss you softly, “I love you too.”

You spent the night on the beach, cuddled up in the set up island of blankets and pillows on the sand. You slept in each other’s arms until the fairy lights burnt out and the moon set and tide turned and you woke up to a beautiful sunrise. You didn’t question how the sun could both rise and set over the same horizon since on Fantasy Island even the craziest things seemed to be made into reality. If only it was at all easy. 

George let your head rest on his chest as the sun came up, his hand twirling through the ends of your hair as he laid back on the pillows and you laid with him. As the day rose and the chirp of animals and birds filled the beach, you let your eyes close once more to focus all your senses on the man in your arms. You inhaled him strongly, savouring his soft natural scent with the ever slight lingerance of his evening cologne and the remanence of salt water. 

He kissed you good morning, letting you taste his lips and his tongue as much as you wanted between slow sensual kisses as his hands gripped your body closer. You kissed the sun awake until it was well above the horizon and it was time to return to your room. 

Step by slow step back to the resort was painful and you held George’s hand tightly the whole way. He had pulled his shirt back on from the night before and it hung open off his shoulders, still giving you a perfect view of his abs that you teasingly ran your finger across as he unlocked your hotel room door. 

Your suitcase was already packed and waiting by the door when you stepped inside and you took one last look at the room in which you met. George’s arm slid around your waist and he kissed your neck from behind, swaying you slightly in place and you both seemed to stare dreamily at the king size bed as if it were calling you back. The sheets were pulled tight, unslept in, since you spent the night on the beach and they were taunting you to come ruin them. 

As if to interrupt your forming ideas, the host of the island appeared in the doorway and greeted you politely to usher you to the plane. George took your hand and you grabbed your suitcase in your other and you trailed behind her as she led the way to the dock. When she wasn’t looking, too busy greeting the pilot, George lifted his right foot up slightly to show off the small black ink tattoo of your name still on his ankle. You smiled at him and he raised your joint hands to his mouth to kiss yours sweetly. 

The pilot took your bag for you to load into the plane and you were permitted a moment to say your goodbyes. 

You turned to George and both of your hands fell into each other’s, your eyes meeting in the bright sunlight that warmed the island like the very same day you arrived there. He smiled at you, his expression obviously hesitant, and you mirrored his attempt at a grin back. 

“I love you.” you whispered, taking your hands from his to wrap around his shoulders. 

George let out a sigh and snaked his arms snugly around your waist, “I love you too. So much. Don’t forget that.”

You nodded and slowly slid back from his embrace, pausing just long enough to share a kiss. Or three. You rested your foreheads together with soft sighs and your eyes closed for just a moment as if to savour your last few seconds together. It could very well be your last time. 

“I’ll wait for you.” you breathed. 

George nodded and brushed your noses together, “Okay.”

You dusted your lips over his and you both opened up ever so slightly and ever so slowly for one last kiss. You felt the warmth running through you, shooting near electricity down your spine until your lips broke apart with a soft smack. With a gentle lick, you tried to memorize the taste of each other for one last second before you were being ushered down the dock. 

George stuffed his hands in the pockets of his shorts and stood with the host as you boarded the biplane and found your seat. The pilot closed the door and buckled up and started the engine. The propellers whirled to life and he glanced back at you, 

“Where are we headed, ma’am?”

You looked out the window of the plane, catching a last glimpse of George who stood on the end of the dock with the host. The wind from the plane propellers ruffled his hair and his eyes squinted in the bright sunlight but he smiled and raised his hand in a last wave as the plane pulled off across the water. 

“Nice, France.” 

You sat in the corner of the coffee shop, suitcase at your side, and gaze unwavering from the glass entry doors across the brown trimmed café. There was no food or beverage in front of you since you were far less than hungry; your stomach churned with anxieties from landing in a strange city for the farthest stretch of a chance you could take. It all felt ridiculous. You felt foolish. None of this had to be real. 

Finally, through the front windows, you saw a white convertible Mercedes pull into the parking lot and instantly your heart was in your throat. From the distance, you could just make out the figure of the man as he parked the car, donning sunglasses and a soft styled mess of brown hair, and your stomach erupted in butterflies. He looked just as perfect as he had on the island but the scattering of hickeys down his neck were missing and the sunkissed tan was more faded as if he had never been there. Your eyes followed him as he hurried across the parking lot and into the shop where you sat. He was alone. 

He didn’t notice you - you were now a stranger after all - and you let yourself have a moment in the background to admire him. He wore another white button up tucked into creased slacks, looking so effortlessly stylish. The designer watch was a given and the near noon-day sunlight glinted off the silver fastenings as he approached the counter. 

You were too far away to hear him order but you made out some sort of breakfast sandwich and a drink amidst the café radio music playing through the speakers and the chatter that surrounded the small sitting area. When he pulled out his credit card and waited for the machine to prompt his payment, he haphazardly bent down slightly, raised his right foot, and scratched at his ankle with a confused scowl. A blur of black was caught by your eye before it disappeared under his pant leg again as he sighed and stood up straighter once more, raking his fingers through his hair in near tired confusion. 

You stood before you could second guess, taking a hesitant step towards him as he tucked his card back in his wallet. He didn’t notice you. No one else did either. 

“George.” 

Your own voice startled you, especially with how wavering and unsure it was...how nervous you sounded. It would be easy to pass as an adoring teenager like that. 

His eyes raised to yours at the call of his name and his gaze alone sent those perfect shivers down your body. He seemed to give you a once over as you took another step closer as if he was trying to place where he had seen you before. 

“George...I…” you struggled to find the words, as if the long plane ride had not been filled with you making up scripts in your mind as to what you would say to him in this moment. His confused expression made you nervous and you could feel the tears of disappointment and frustration already brimming in your eyes. You could only gesture haphazardly to his right pant leg before you were at a loss for words. 

He slid his wallet into his pocket, face full of confusion, and followed your quick gesture to his right ankle. The random appearance of that messy blank ink tattoo had startled him that morning and he looked back up at you slowly, eyebrows furrowed gently in the middle as to how you knew it was there. This stranger in a coffee shop. 

He breathed your name in the form of a question; the same name that had been inked into his skin at a time he didn’t remember. The blessing of your name from his lips felt like the warmth of that familiar tropical breeze and the memories of your fantasy weekend together seemed to flick like pages of a storybook between you. 

You could nearly see his features soften with his realization and you let a gentle smile tug at your lips, your voice a breath of relief, “George.”

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Small

Summary: Erling x reader, size kink, SMUT!

Erling was an absolute giant. Regardless of how tall you were, Erling had a special talent of making you look so small compared to him. He absolutely adored your height difference, loving the way his clothes suffocated your frame. He would always tease you, asking for kisses and watching you struggle on your tippy toes as you tried reaching his lips with yours. If you were ever tired, he wouldn't hesitate to carry you around. His favorite thing about your height difference was the way you had to look up at him. Your beautiful eyes glistening under the lights, staring straight into his soul. 

He also loved your height difference when it came to sex. However, he knew that he had to be very careful with you. Since he was much bigger, he made sure you were alright with everything happening. He was very adamant about having a safeword and prepping you before he would penetrate you. He knew you loved it when his tongue licked your folds, and his thick fingers spread your tight walls. He liked asking you whether you thought you could handle him. 

“I’ll try to,” you would say, innocently smiling up at him. When he finally did slip himself inside you, he would always pause and make sure you were okay before slipping out and slamming back in. He was infatuated with the feeling of his large cock intruding your tight walls, the warmness almost making him cum instantly. He loved to take you with your back pressed on the bed. With this view, he could watch your tits bounce with his powerful thrusts. He could also see how his large hand perfectly wrapped around your small throat. You would look up at him with those same beautiful eyes, only now they were droopy with lust. But the best part of this view was the way he could see his cock protruding from your stomach. The bulge was subtle but served a powerful reminder about how big he was compared to you. He would be hypnotized, staring at your stomach as he entered you, waiting to see how far he reached inside of you. You would always be a moaning and whimpering mess under him, his hips slamming against yours. You could feel his balls slapping against your aching, tight cunt. He would slip his large thumb into your small mouth, feeling your tongue swirl around it. 

“Look at you, taking me like a good girl,” He would praise you, his thrusts continuing their brutal pace. You would have tears streaming down your face, feeling the immense pleasure from his thick cock filling your clenching pussy. 

“So…big,” you would let out, boosting his ego as his hips began jackhammering into you. By now, the room would be filled with lewd noises; skin slapping skin, moans, grunts, and the bed slamming against the wall. You would always be the first to come, followed shortly by Erling. He would make sure his large load filled you up to the brim. He would slip out, you whimpering in response as your cunt became empty again. 

Erling knew you would be sore by the end of it all, and he made sure to care for you adequately and accordingly. A warm bath would be made, and he would carry you in, your legs completely numb and useless. He would bathe with you, and for the millionth time, your beautiful eyes would look back up at him.

Why don't they make intros like this anymore 😞😞

Enjoy the Butterflies

Daniel Ricciardo x crazy rich!Reader

Summary: in which Daniel gets dropped by his team and picked up by an heiress with a penchant for taking in strays

The heavy bass of the club still hums in your bones as you step out onto the pavement, the humid Singapore night wrapping around you like a second skin. The neon lights from Zouk, one of the city’s most exclusive nightclubs, pulse in rhythm with your heartbeat, and for a second, you stand still, relishing the quiet that follows hours of dancing, laughter, and too many cocktails.

The sounds of the party still echo behind you, a muffled roar of privilege and extravagance, but out here, it’s just you and the night.

Or so you think.

Your attention is pulled toward a commotion just a few meters away. You blink, trying to make sense of the scene. There’s a man — definitely not local, tall, and a little scruffy compared to the sharp-dressed crowd you’re used to — being unceremoniously escorted out by one of the bouncers. His head hangs low, and his shoulders are slumped in a way that screams defeat.

It’s not the dramatic, messy kind of exit where someone’s too drunk to stand, or too proud to admit they’ve done something wrong. No, this is different. This guy isn’t even trying to fight back.

“Get lost,” the bouncer grunts, shoving the man one last time before turning to head back inside.

You can’t help it — you freeze, your gaze lingering on him. He doesn’t move, just leans against the wall like he’s considering sinking to the ground. His posture is pitiful in a way that tugs at something inside you, that soft part of you that your family says is too soft. The part that’s always drawn to the broken, the hopeless, the ones who don’t quite fit.

He lets out a long, dramatic sigh, his eyes flicking up to the club entrance, like maybe if he stares long enough, he’ll magically be allowed back in. He’s pathetic. There’s no other word for it. But he’s also kind of endearing, in a weird way.

“Pathetic,” you mutter under your breath, half-amused.

You could leave him there, you know that. This isn’t your problem. He’ll figure something out. Or not. It’s not like you owe him anything, but …

"Are you just going to stand there?” You hear yourself saying, your feet already moving toward him before you can stop them.

His head snaps up, clearly not expecting anyone to address him. His eyes — big, brown, and confused — lock onto yours. He’s a little scruffy, but there’s something boyishly charming about him.

“I — uh,” he stammers, straightening up slightly but still looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “No. I mean, yeah, I guess?”

You roll your eyes. “That’s not an answer.”

He shrugs helplessly. “Well, I don’t really have one. Kinda got kicked out of the only place I planned on being tonight.”

You narrow your eyes. “What did you do?”

“I, uh …” He scratches the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “I don’t know, honestly. Might’ve been a little too loud, or maybe I was blocking someone important from getting their drinks. These places, man, they don’t like it when you’re … disruptive.”

You cross your arms, glancing at him up and down. He doesn’t look dangerous, just out of place. “You sound like you deserved it.”

He winces. “Probably did.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you’re still standing there, wondering why you’re wasting your time. Then, before you know it, you’re sighing. Your family would shake their heads at you, calling you too kind for your own good.

“Come on,” you say, jerking your head toward the curb. “Let’s go.”

He blinks. “What?”

You nod toward the curb, where your Rolls Royce waits, engine quietly idling. The chauffeur stands by, staring straight ahead like this is the most normal thing in the world, like this isn’t some insane act of kindness you’re pulling out of nowhere.

“I’m not leaving you out here,” you say, already heading toward the car. “Get in.”

“Uh — wait, seriously?” He hurries to catch up, still clearly not processing what’s happening. “You don’t even know me.”

You shrug, throwing a look over your shoulder. “Do I need to?”

“Usually, yeah,” he says, jogging slightly to keep pace with you. “I mean, what if I’m like, a complete psycho or something?”

“If you were, I doubt you’d be sitting against a wall feeling sorry for yourself,” you shoot back, opening the car door. “Now get in before I change my mind.”

There’s a brief moment of hesitation, like he’s weighing his options, but then he shakes his head, muttering something under his breath, and slides into the backseat beside you. The leather is cool against your skin, the scent of luxury and privilege permeating the air, and for a second, it’s quiet as the door closes behind you both.

The driver pulls away from the curb smoothly, not asking questions.

“So … you do this often?” The man asks, still clearly bewildered. “Pick up random guys outside clubs?”

You snort, turning to face him. “Definitely not.”

“Then why me?”

You shrug. “You looked pathetic.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and for a second, you think you’ve offended him, but then he laughs — loud, unabashed, and surprising. “Wow. Okay. Well, thanks, I guess?”

You smile despite yourself. “Don’t mention it.”

He leans back in the seat, still grinning. “I’m Daniel, by the way. Ricciardo. Not sure if that means anything to you.”

You narrow your eyes, the name clicking into place. “The F1 driver?”

He looks a little sheepish but nods. “Yeah, that’s me.”

You stare at him for a moment, processing that. It’s not like you keep up with racing, but you’ve definitely heard of him. Seen him in ads, maybe, or on TV. It’s a little weird, thinking about it now. The same guy who’s smiling at you, a little bashfully, is famous in his own right.

“I didn’t recognize you,” you say, somewhat apologetic.

He shrugs again, more relaxed now. “Don’t worry about it. Happens more often than you think. Usually, I’m not getting kicked out of places, though.”

You smirk. “Good to know.”

There’s a comfortable silence after that, the two of you settling into the soft hum of the car as it glides through the streets. You steal a glance at him, watching as he stares out the window, looking slightly more at peace now that he’s not sitting on the pavement outside of a nightclub. He catches you looking, raising an eyebrow.

“So, you’re just gonna take me home, drop me off like a stray cat?” He teases, flashing you that boyish grin again.

You tilt your head, pretending to think about it. “Depends. Do stray cats usually get rides in Rolls Royces?”

“Only the ones that get kicked out of clubs,” he fires back, and you can’t help but laugh.

This was definitely not how you expected your night to go.

***

You lean back in your seat, letting the smooth hum of the Rolls Royce fill the silence for a moment. Daniel seems more relaxed now, but there’s still something hanging in the air, something that makes you look at him again, curiosity getting the better of you.

"So," you say, turning your head slightly to study him, "where am I dropping you off? What hotel are you staying at?"

Daniel blinks, the question catching him off guard. He looks at you, then at the ceiling of the car like the answer might be written somewhere above his head. “Uh … yeah, about that …”

You narrow your eyes. “You don’t know, do you?”

He winces, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Not exactly. I mean, I know I checked into a place, obviously, but I can’t remember the name right now.”

“You can’t remember what hotel you’re staying at?” Your tone is somewhere between disbelief and amusement.

Daniel shrugs, unbothered. “It’s been a long day. Plus, there’s like, a million hotels in Singapore. They all start to blur together.”

You can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. “Okay, genius. So how were you planning on getting back?”

“Hadn’t thought that far ahead,” he admits, grinning lazily. Then, the grin fades, and something shifts in his expression — something a little sadder, more raw. “Honestly, even if I did know, I don’t really want to go back there.”

You frown. “Why not?”

He hesitates, eyes flicking to the window as if he can avoid answering by watching the city lights whiz by. After a long pause, he sighs and leans back against the seat, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I got dropped,” he mutters, almost too quietly for you to hear.

“Dropped?” You repeat, confused. “From what?”

“From my team,” he clarifies, his voice a little hoarse. “VCARB. They, uh, decided they didn’t want me around anymore.”

You blink, the realization hitting you like a sudden cold wave. “Oh.”

Daniel doesn’t say anything for a moment, the silence growing heavy. You can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers twitch slightly as he picks at an invisible thread on his jeans.

“I mean,” he finally continues, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “I kinda saw it coming. Just didn’t think it’d happen this fast, y’know?”

The lightheartedness from earlier is completely gone now, replaced by something darker, something heavier. You can feel the weight of it pressing down on him, the frustration and sadness barely concealed behind his crooked grin.

“I thought I had more time,” he says softly, his voice raw with vulnerability. “But I guess that’s how it goes. One day you’re on top of the world, and the next … well, you’re getting kicked out of nightclubs.”

You stay quiet, unsure of what to say. You weren’t expecting to find yourself in this situation tonight — sitting in the back of a Rolls Royce with a famous F1 driver who just lost his job. And yet, here you are, listening to him spill his heart out in the middle of the night, somewhere between Zouk and wherever he was supposed to go next.

“I just don’t want to be around them right now,” he continues, voice thick. “The team, the people … they’re all pretending to be nice, like it’s just business, but it’s not. It’s my life. My career.”

He shakes his head, letting out a soft, bitter laugh. “And now it’s over. Just like that.”

You let out a sigh, long and heavy. “So, you don’t want to go back to your hotel?”

“Not really,” Daniel mutters, slumping back in his seat.

You stare at him for a second, weighing your options. Your chauffeur is driving aimlessly through the city, waiting for your instructions, and Daniel is sitting here, lost in his own world of disappointment. He looks tired, drained, and you’re not cruel enough to leave him like this.

“Well,” you say, after a beat of silence, “I guess you’re coming with me then.”

Daniel’s head snaps up, his brows furrowing. “Wait, what?”

You glance at him, your voice firm. “You heard me. You can’t remember your hotel, you don’t want to go back even if you could, and I’m not about to leave you wandering around Singapore. So, you’re coming to my place.”

He stares at you, eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. “Are you serious?”

You roll your eyes. “Would I say it if I wasn’t?”

For a moment, he looks like he’s about to argue, but then he slumps back in his seat again, exhaling a long, tired breath. “Alright. If you’re sure.”

You nod, already turning to the front of the car. “Take us home,” you tell your chauffeur, who acknowledges the instruction with a curt nod before the car smoothly shifts direction.

Daniel leans his head against the window, eyes heavy. “Thanks,” he mumbles, his voice barely audible. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

You wave it off. “I know.”

A few minutes pass in silence, the soft sound of the tires against the road lulling both of you into a calm quiet. You glance over at Daniel again, noticing how his eyelids are drooping more and more, his head bobbing slightly as he fights to stay awake.

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” you comment, amused.

“M’not,” he protests, but his words are already slurred. “Just … resting my eyes.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Sure.”

It doesn’t take long before his breathing evens out, and his head tips to the side, fully succumbing to sleep. You shake your head, watching him for a moment. He looks peaceful like this, the weight of whatever he’s been carrying lifted, if only temporarily.

“Of course,” you mutter to yourself, leaning back in your seat, “this is how my night ends.”

The car pulls up in front of your building — a sleek, modern tower in one of the city’s most exclusive neighborhoods. Your chauffeur steps out first, coming around to open the door for you. You step out gracefully, smoothing your dress, but when you look back into the car, Daniel is still out cold, slumped awkwardly in the seat.

You sigh. “This is not happening.”

Your chauffeur, ever professional, stands at attention, waiting for your next move. You consider your options for a second before glancing at him. “Help me get him inside, will you?”

The chauffeur doesn’t hesitate, nodding curtly. He moves to the other side of the car and carefully opens the door. Together, you manage to maneuver Daniel out of the backseat, his arm draped over the chauffeur’s shoulder as he leans heavily against him. Daniel stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, too deep in sleep to even register what’s happening.

The doorman, recognizing you immediately, rushes over to assist. “Miss Y/L/N,” he says, eyes flicking from you to the unconscious Daniel, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine,” you say quickly, giving him a tight smile. “Just … had a long night.”

The doorman nods, not pressing further, and helps the chauffeur guide Daniel through the lobby and into the elevator. You follow behind, feeling a little ridiculous but knowing there’s no turning back now.

The elevator ride is quiet, save for Daniel’s soft breathing as he leans against the wall, still fast asleep. You glance at him, half-amused, half-exasperated. What a night.

When you finally reach your penthouse, the door slides open smoothly, and the chauffeur and doorman gently ease Daniel onto your plush couch. He sprawls out, looking even more out of place among the sleek, expensive furniture, but you can’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“Thanks,” you tell the men, who nod before excusing themselves quietly, leaving you alone with your unexpected guest.

You stand there for a moment, looking at Daniel as he sleeps soundly on your couch. His shoes are still on, one arm hanging off the side, and his mouth slightly open in a way that’s almost comical. Shaking your head, you grab a blanket from a nearby chair and drape it over him.

“Well, this is definitely not how I thought my night would go,” you mutter to yourself, standing back and crossing your arms as you look at him one last time.

With a sigh, you turn and head toward your bedroom, already mentally preparing for the chaos tomorrow is likely to bring.

***

You’re in the middle of a dream when you hear it — the unmistakable sound of your mother’s voice. Loud, sharp, and utterly out of place in the peaceful silence of your penthouse. Your eyes snap open, heart pounding in your chest as you try to piece together why in the world she would be here, at this ungodly hour.

And then you hear it. A scream.

“Who is this man?”

Your stomach drops, the reality of last night hitting you like a freight train. Daniel. He’s still here. Passed out on your couch. And now, your very traditional mother is standing in your living room, probably about to have a heart attack.

You scramble out of bed, nearly tripping over yourself as you rush toward the living room. You can already hear her ranting, a mix of shock and outrage in her voice, and you don’t even have time to think before you’re standing in front of her, trying to calm the situation down.

“Mum!” You blurt out, trying to sound casual, like this isn’t the absolute disaster it clearly is. “What are you doing here?”

Your mother’s eyes are wide, her perfectly manicured hand pressed dramatically against her chest as she stares down at Daniel, who’s still blissfully unconscious, mouth slightly open, one arm dangling off the edge of the couch.

“I could ask you the same thing!” She snaps, her voice rising with every word. “Why is there a man sleeping in your living room? And why-” she leans in, eyes narrowing, “does he look like he’s been out drinking all night?”

Your mind races, panic bubbling up as you try to figure out what to say, what kind of excuse would possibly explain this. And then, without even thinking, the words tumble out of your mouth.

“He’s … he’s my boyfriend.”

The second the lie leaves your lips, you know it’s a terrible idea. But it’s too late now. Your mother freezes, her eyes narrowing suspiciously as she looks between you and Daniel. “Your … boyfriend?” She repeats, her tone incredulous.

You nod, forcing a tight smile, praying that Daniel stays asleep long enough for you to get through this. “Yes. My boyfriend.”

Your mother looks like she’s about to faint. “And you didn’t tell me? You-”

“I was going to!” you interrupt quickly. “But it’s … it’s new. Very new. I didn’t want to say anything until I was sure.”

She crosses her arms, still clearly not buying it. “And this is how you introduce him to your mother? Drunk and passed out in your living room?”

“He’s not drunk,” you say quickly, even though that’s obviously a lie. “He’s … uh, just really tired. He’s been going through a lot lately.”

At that moment, you hear a groan from the couch. You glance over, heart sinking as Daniel stirs, slowly blinking awake. His face is pale, and the second he opens his eyes, you can see the hangover written all over him.

“Wh-” Daniel starts, voice groggy as he sits up, rubbing a hand over his face. “Where …”

Your mother’s eyes widen, and she turns to you, her expression one of absolute horror. “This is him?” She whispers, like you’ve just committed some kind of unspeakable crime.

You give her a weak smile. “Yes. Mum, this is Daniel.”

Daniel’s head snaps up at the sound of his name, his bleary eyes trying to make sense of the situation. He looks at you, confused, and you give him a pointed look, willing him to just go along with it.

"Daniel," you say through gritted teeth, “this is my mother. Remember? I told you she might stop by.”

Daniel blinks at you, his brow furrowed in confusion. It takes a second, but you can practically see the gears turning in his brain as he tries to process what’s happening. Finally, he nods slowly, trying to catch up. “Right. Your mum. Uh, hi.”

Your mother stares at him, unimpressed. “Are you alright?” She asks, her voice cold and judgmental.

Daniel, still clearly half-asleep and in the throes of a wicked hangover, gives her a shaky smile. “Yeah, just … didn’t sleep great,” he mumbles, leaning back into the couch.

You wince internally, but keep up the act. “He’s been working so hard lately,” you say quickly, hoping to smooth things over. “With his job and everything.”

Your mother’s eyes narrow further. “And what does he do, exactly?”

Daniel glances at you, panic flickering in his eyes, clearly not prepared for this interrogation. You jump in before he can make things worse.

“He’s … in sports,” you say vaguely. “He’s an athlete.”

Your mother’s gaze doesn’t soften in the slightest. “What kind of athlete?”

You feel Daniel’s eyes on you, pleading silently for help. “Formula 1,” you say quickly. “He’s a Formula 1 driver.”

Your mother blinks, taken aback by this revelation. “A race car driver?” She repeats, like it’s the most absurd thing she’s ever heard. “That’s … interesting.”

You can tell she’s not impressed, but at least it’s bought you a little time. You just need to get through this without her prying too much further.

“I promise, Mum, Daniel’s a good guy,” you say, trying to sound convincing. “He just … had a rough night. That’s all.”

Your mother’s gaze flicks between you and Daniel, suspicion still heavy in her eyes. “And where did he sleep?”

You freeze. “Uh …”

Daniel, finally catching on to what’s happening, sits up a little straighter. “I slept here,” he says quickly, gesturing to the couch. “On the couch. I didn’t … you know …”

He trails off, looking at your mother awkwardly, but the message is clear.

Your mother’s eyebrows shoot up, surprised by his admission. “You didn’t share a bed?”

You shake your head vigorously. “No, Mum. We didn’t share a bed. We’re not married, remember?”

For the first time since she walked in, your mother seems to relax a little, her rigid posture softening just a bit. “Well,” she says, sounding somewhat mollified, “at least he has some morals.”

You breathe a silent sigh of relief, nodding along. “Exactly. Daniel’s … very respectful.”

Daniel gives a small, awkward smile, clearly still trying to wrap his head around the situation. “Uh, yeah. Very … respectful.”

Your mother studies him for a moment longer, then nods, satisfied. “Well, I suppose it could be worse.”

You almost laugh at that but manage to keep a straight face. “Right.”

There’s a brief pause as your mother smooths down her dress, glancing around the penthouse like she’s looking for something to criticize. Then, her eyes land back on you, and she smiles — one of those deceptively sweet smiles that always makes you nervous.

“Well,” she says brightly, “since I’m here, I’d love to get to know Daniel a bit better. Why don’t you two join me for dinner tonight?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Dinner? Tonight?”

Your mother nods, clearly not taking no for an answer. “Yes. I think it’s high time I meet this boyfriend of yours properly.”

You glance at Daniel, who’s looking at you with wide, slightly panicked eyes. You can tell he’s regretting every decision that led him to this moment, but there’s no way out now. You’re both trapped.

“Uh, sure,” you say weakly. “We’d love to.”

Your mother beams, clearly pleased with herself. “Wonderful! I’ll have my assistant call to make the reservation. Seven o’clock sharp. You know where. Don’t be late.”

Before you can respond, she’s already turning on her heel, heading toward the door with a satisfied smile on her face. “I’ll see you both tonight,” she calls over her shoulder as she exits, leaving you standing there in stunned silence.

The door clicks shut, and the room is suddenly, blissfully quiet.

You turn to Daniel, who’s staring at you, still half-dazed from sleep and now fully confused about what just happened.

“Boyfriend?” He croaks, his voice rough from the hangover.

You let out a long, exasperated sigh, rubbing your temples. “I panicked.”

He groans, flopping back onto the couch. “Dinner with your mum? Really?”

“Yes. And if you don’t play along, I’m pretty sure she’ll disown me.”

Daniel chuckles weakly, rubbing his temples. “Great. Just great.”

You stare at him for a moment, then flop down next to him on the couch, letting your head fall back against the cushions. “This is a disaster.”

“Eh,” Daniel mutters, eyes closed. “Could be worse.”

You shoot him a look. “How?”

He cracks one eye open, grinning. “At least I didn’t throw up on her.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “That’s not funny.”

But when you look up, you can’t help but laugh, because as ridiculous as this entire situation is, somehow, in the madness of it all, you know tonight is going to be even worse.

***

Dinner is already awkward. You can feel the tension every time your mother glances at Daniel, her polite smile not quite reaching her eyes. It’s a small, exclusive restaurant, the kind of place where the waiters wear gloves, and the courses are tiny but outrageously expensive. The chef is renowned for his traditional yet experimental take on Singaporean cuisine, which is perfect because your mother insists on a display of sophistication when it comes to hosting. Unfortunately, that also means the pressure on Daniel is palpable.

Daniel sits across from you, trying to look comfortable, though his hand is constantly fiddling with his napkin under the table. Your mother, seated beside him, is maintaining her usual air of grace, but you can see she’s sizing him up, scrutinizing every bite, every word. And you … you’re just trying to survive.

“So, Daniel,” your mother begins, swirling her wine like a seasoned critic, “what are your long-term plans? With your career, I mean.”

Daniel freezes with his fork halfway to his mouth, the question clearly catching him off guard. He clears his throat, scrambling to find an answer that sounds impressive. “Well, uh, things are a bit … in flux right now,” he says, offering a weak smile. “But I’m working on it.”

Your mother arches an eyebrow. “In flux? That doesn’t sound very … stable.”

You kick Daniel lightly under the table, silently willing him to come up with something better than “in flux.” He glances at you for help, but you just widen your eyes, urging him to recover.

“Yeah, well,” Daniel says, trying to salvage the conversation, “I’ve been racing for a while, you know? Formula 1. It’s a pretty high-pressure job, so … I’m considering my next move carefully.”

Your mother makes a noncommittal hum, clearly unimpressed. “I see.”

You want to sink into the floor.

“I’m going to excuse myself for a moment,” you say quickly, standing from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

Daniel gives you a look that screams *don’t leave me alone with her*, but there’s no way around it. You shoot him an apologetic smile before making your way toward the restroom, leaving him to fend for himself.

As soon as you’re gone, the silence at the table becomes almost deafening. Daniel shifts uncomfortably in his seat, glancing around the room as if he’s suddenly forgotten how to act normal. He’s about to reach for his water glass when he notices your mother watching him closely.

“So,” she says, her tone unnervingly calm, “Daniel.”

He straightens up, unsure if he should be relieved or terrified that she’s addressing him directly. “Yes, ma’am?”

“I think we should speak candidly, don’t you?” She says, her voice as smooth as silk but with an edge that makes Daniel’s skin crawl. She reaches into her handbag, and Daniel feels his stomach lurch with nerves. What’s she going to pull out? A contract? Some kind of questionnaire?

What she pulls out, however, is much worse.

It’s a small, velvet box. A ring box.

Daniel’s heart stops. His eyes widen as he stares at the box, his mind spinning, trying to make sense of what’s happening.

Your mother places the box delicately in front of him, her expression serene, like she’s offering him a cup of tea rather than a proposal-sized bombshell. “I’ve been waiting for Y/N to bring home a boy for quite some time,” she says, her voice soft but pointed. “And now that she has … well, I can’t let this moment pass.”

Daniel opens and closes his mouth, but no words come out. He’s too stunned to respond, completely blindsided by this sudden turn of events.

Your mother’s eyes gleam, and she leans in slightly, lowering her voice as if she’s sharing a secret. “Of course, I would have preferred if you were Singaporean,” she continues, her tone just a touch sharper, “but I’m not getting any younger, and I want grandchildren. So, we can’t be picky, can we?”

Daniel’s mind goes blank. He tries to form a coherent thought, a response, anything, but all that comes out is a strangled, “I … uh …”

Your mother regards him with the same calm, calculating gaze she’s had since the start of dinner, as though this entire interaction is completely normal. “You’ll do,” she says simply, and there’s a finality in her tone that makes it clear this isn’t up for debate.

Daniel stares at the ring box, his brain short-circuiting. Is this really happening? He glances around the restaurant, half-expecting someone to jump out and tell him it’s all some elaborate prank. But no one does. It’s just him, your mother, and the heavy weight of that velvet box sitting between them.

He’s completely out of his depth. He can’t even think of how to respond to your mother’s words, let alone the fact that she’s just essentially handed him an engagement ring.

“I-” he starts again, but his throat is dry, and nothing coherent follows.

“Daniel,” she interrupts smoothly, her gaze sharpening. “You’re a good man, I can tell. And you’re very … respectful.” The word drips with meaning, making Daniel shift in his seat.

Before he can stammer out anything in return, the restroom door swings open, and you reappear, walking back toward the table, blissfully unaware of the bomb that’s just been dropped.

Daniel panics. His mind races as you approach, and without thinking, he snatches the ring box off the table, slipping it into his jacket pocket in one swift movement. His heart is racing, his palms suddenly sweaty, but he tries to keep his expression neutral.

“Everything alright?” You ask, sliding back into your seat, oblivious to the tension radiating from both Daniel and your mother.

Daniel clears his throat, forcing a tight smile. “Yep. All good.”

Your mother smiles pleasantly, folding her hands in her lap. “Oh, we were just having a lovely little chat.”

You look between them suspiciously, but there’s no sign of the chaos that just occurred. Daniel’s poker face is impressive, but you can sense something is off. You raise an eyebrow at him, and he just gives you a strained smile in return.

The rest of dinner is a blur. You try to focus on the conversation, but your mother seems to be on her best behavior, keeping things light and superficial. Daniel is unusually quiet, nodding along and making polite comments when necessary, but there’s something distant about him, like he’s somewhere else entirely.

By the time dessert arrives, you can’t shake the feeling that something happened while you were gone. But Daniel isn’t saying a word, and your mother’s serene expression betrays nothing.

As the waiter clears the last of the plates, your mother dabs at her mouth with her napkin, looking between the two of you with an air of satisfaction. “Well,” she says, standing from the table, “this has been lovely. I’m so glad we could all spend this time together.”

You force a smile, standing as well. “Yes, of course. It was … lovely.”

Daniel stands too, his movements a little stiffer than usual, like he’s trying to keep his hands from shaking. “Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Y/L/N,” he says politely, though his voice is a bit strained.

Your mother gives him one last, long look, then smiles warmly. “Oh, Daniel, you’re always welcome. Anytime.”

With that, she gathers her things and heads for the door, leaving you and Daniel standing there in stunned silence. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, turning to Daniel.

“Well, that wasn’t too bad, was it?” You ask, trying to lighten the mood.

Daniel gives a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah … not too bad.”

You narrow your eyes at him, picking up on the odd tone in his voice. “Are you sure? You’ve been acting weird since I got back to the table.”

He blinks, his hand instinctively brushing the pocket where the ring box is hidden. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Just … full. Really full.”

You raise an eyebrow, not entirely convinced, but decide to let it slide for now. “Alright. If you say so.”

As you both head for the door, Daniel’s mind is still racing, the weight of the ring box burning a hole in his pocket. He has no idea what to do with it, or what your mother expects from him, but one thing is for sure — he’s in way over his head.

And he’s not sure how much longer he can keep pretending.

***

Back at your penthouse, the atmosphere feels … tense. Not the sort of charged tension from earlier, but something more fragile, awkward. The kind that makes everything feel a bit too quiet, like the air is too thick with things unsaid. You and Daniel are sitting on opposite ends of the plush couch in your living room. It’s not that big of a couch, but the distance feels enormous.

Daniel is fidgeting, running a hand through his hair, tapping his fingers on his knee. You’re sitting with your arms crossed, staring at him, waiting. But waiting for what, exactly? Neither of you knows. The silence stretches between you both, and it’s unbearable. Every breath feels louder than it should.

“Uh …” Daniel finally starts, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly trying to find something — anything — to say. But nothing seems right, so he just ends up staring back at you, eyes darting around like he’s looking for a way out.

You, on the other hand, are unusually still, your eyes narrowed at him. It’s like you’re waiting for him to make the first move, but he’s not catching on. Not yet.

Daniel swallows hard, and after a moment of hesitation, his hand moves toward his jacket pocket. Your eyes flick to the motion, and his fingers tremble slightly as they close around the velvet box, pulling it out with an awkward kind of determination, as if it’s weighing him down more than anything. He holds it for a second, staring at it like it’s a puzzle he can’t solve.

Then, with a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, he opens the box.

The soft click of the hinge seems impossibly loud in the room, and for a moment, all you can do is stare. The ring glimmers under the soft lighting, catching the faintest reflection of the overhead chandelier. It’s not just any ring. You recognize it immediately.

And then, as if someone flipped a switch, you start laughing.

Daniel’s eyes snap to you in confusion, his brows furrowing. “What … what’s so funny?”

You’re still giggling, pressing your hand to your mouth to muffle the sound, but it doesn’t work. The laughter bubbles up uncontrollably, and Daniel looks like he’s caught between being relieved that you’re not mad and completely baffled by your reaction.

“You-” you manage between breaths, “That ring … that’s my grandmother’s. Oh my God, she’s really lost it.”

Daniel blinks, glancing down at the ring again, his confusion only deepening. “Wait, what?”

“My mother,” you say, wiping a tear from your eye, “She must be really desperate to get me married off if she’s giving out my grandmother’s ring to the first guy I bring to dinner. I can’t believe it.”

Daniel stares at you for a second, then back at the ring. “This is your … grandmother’s?” His voice is shaky, like the absurdity of the situation is just now hitting him.

You nod, biting your lip to stifle another laugh. “Yup. She always said it was meant for the man I’d marry one day. Guess she couldn’t wait any longer.”

Daniel’s face goes through a range of emotions — shock, embarrassment, and finally, something like disbelief. “I … I don’t even know what to say.”

You snicker again, leaning back against the couch and crossing your arms. “I think the bigger question here is — why didn’t you say anything to me? Did you just plan on pocketing the ring and hoping I wouldn’t notice?”

Daniel shifts uncomfortably, his cheeks flushing. “I — I didn’t know what to do. Your mom just … handed it to me. I mean, what was I supposed to say? ‘No, thank you, ma’am, I’m not ready for an arranged marriage just yet?’”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “That might’ve been a good start.”

He opens his mouth to protest, then closes it again, clearly struggling to find a way out of this. Finally, he lets out a defeated sigh and leans back, running both hands through his hair. “This is insane.”

“You think?” You quip, smirking.

Daniel’s gaze drops to the ring again, and there’s a beat of silence before you speak up, this time your tone more playful than mocking. “Well,” you say, drawing out the word, “if you’re gonna propose, you should at least get on one knee. You know, for tradition’s sake.”

Daniel’s head snaps up, eyes wide in disbelief. “What?”

You laugh again, your teasing smile growing. “I mean, come on. If we’re going through with this charade, you might as well go all in. Get down on one knee, Ricciardo.”

He blinks at you, completely at a loss for words. “You’re not serious.”

“Why not?” You shoot back, still grinning. “What’s stopping you? You don’t have a job anymore, so it’s not like you have much else going on. You could always be my trophy husband.”

There’s a flicker of something in Daniel’s eyes — part shock, part amusement, and maybe just a little bit of something else. “Trophy husband?” He echoes, his voice incredulous.

You shrug, leaning forward and resting your chin on your hand, as if the idea were the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah. I mean, think about it. You wouldn’t have to work, I’d take care of you. You could just … exist. Isn’t that every guy’s dream?”

Daniel laughs — an actual laugh this time, though it’s tinged with disbelief. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

You grin. “Maybe. But I’m also not wrong.”

For a moment, the room is quiet again, but it’s not the awkward silence from before. This is something lighter, filled with the remnants of laughter and the weight of an unspoken understanding. Daniel is still holding the ring box, his thumb absently running over the velvet surface as he processes everything that’s just happened.

And then, because clearly, the universe hasn’t thrown enough chaos at him lately, Daniel does something that surprises both of you.

He nods.

It’s a small, hesitant nod at first, like he’s not even sure he’s agreeing to anything real. But then he meets your gaze, and there’s a flicker of something — maybe exhaustion, maybe delirium, maybe just the sheer absurdity of it all — and he nods again. This time, more certain.

“Alright,” he says quietly, still staring at the ring. “Okay.”

You freeze, blinking at him in surprise. “Wait … what?”

Daniel looks up at you, his expression unreadable but calm. “I said … okay. Let’s do it.”

For the first time tonight, you’re the one who’s caught off guard. “You’re joking.”

He shakes his head slowly, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Nope.”

You sit up straighter, suddenly unsure whether you’re still in the middle of some elaborate joke or if the reality of the past few days has finally broken Daniel’s sense of logic. “You — wait, seriously? You’d marry me?”

Daniel shrugs, though there’s a glimmer of humor in his eyes now. “I mean, like you said … I don’t have a job anymore. And hey, being a trophy husband doesn’t sound half bad.”

You stare at him, searching his face for any sign of a punchline. But the longer you look, the more you realize he’s not kidding. He’s serious. Or as serious as someone in his situation can be.

A beat passes. Then another.

And suddenly, you burst into laughter again.

“God, you’re insane,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “This whole thing is insane.”

Daniel grins, leaning back into the couch with a relieved sigh, as if your laughter has lifted the tension from the room entirely. “Welcome to my life.”

You shake your head again, still chuckling, though there’s something warm and strange growing in your chest. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”

Daniel glances at the ring one more time before closing the box with a soft click and slipping it back into his pocket. “Hey,” he says, his voice softer now, “if nothing else, at least we’ll give your mother something to talk about at her next dinner party.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Oh, she’ll have a field day.”

For a moment, the two of you just sit there, side by side on the couch, the absurdity of the night finally settling over you both. It’s ridiculous, completely irrational, and yet somehow, in this moment, it feels … right.

Daniel nudges you with his elbow, breaking the silence. “So … when’s the wedding?”

You groan, but you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

Daniel chuckles, leaning back into the cushions, finally starting to relax. “Yeah. One step at a time.”

But even as you say it, you can’t shake the feeling that this strange, accidental engagement is just the beginning of something even more complicated.

And maybe you’re okay with that.

***

You come home the next afternoon, practically skipping into the penthouse, your eyes sparkling with excitement. The energy around you is contagious, and even Daniel, who’s lounging on the couch with a glass of water — probably trying to recover from the whirlwind of the past few days — can’t help but smile at your entrance.

“You look … happy,” Daniel says, a slow grin spreading across his face. “What did I miss?”

You clap your hands together like an excited child, barely containing your glee. “I got you something.”

Daniel’s smile falters for a moment, confusion flickering in his eyes. “Wait, what? You got me something?” He straightens up on the couch, his brows furrowing. “You really didn’t have to do that-”

“Shush.” You wave a hand at him, cutting him off before he can protest further. “I wanted to. Trust me, you’re going to love it.”

Daniel chuckles, though there’s a nervous edge to his voice. “Alright, alright. What is it then? A new watch? Shoes?” He pauses, glancing at you skeptically. “Wait, is it another one of your mum’s rings?”

You shake your head, grinning like you’ve just pulled off the best surprise in the world. “Nope. Guess again.”

He raises an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Okay … well, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s great but-”

“I bought Red Bull Racing.”

For a second, it’s like the words don’t register. Daniel blinks at you, his expression blank as his brain tries to process what you just said. There’s a long beat of silence before his mouth finally drops open in disbelief.

“You … you what?”

Your grin widens. “I bought Red Bull Racing. You know, the Formula 1 team? Your old team?” You say it so casually, like you’re talking about picking up a pair of shoes or booking a vacation.

Daniel’s jaw is still hanging open. “You — wait — are you serious?” He’s half laughing now, like he’s trying to figure out if this is some kind of joke. But the look on your face — pure, unfiltered joy — tells him you’re very, very serious.

“Yup!” You say, popping the ‘p’ for emphasis. “Apparently, if you offer double what a team is worth, the owners tend to sell pretty quickly. Who knew?”

Daniel stares at you, completely slack-jawed, like you’ve just told him you bought a small country. “You … bought Red Bull Racing?” His voice cracks a little as he repeats it, as if saying it out loud will make it more real.

You nod, your smile never faltering. “Yup. Just closed the deal this morning.”

“Jesus Christ.” Daniel runs a hand through his hair, looking like he might faint. “Are you insane?”

“Maybe a little,” you admit with a playful shrug. “But it’s an engagement gift, you know? Gotta keep things exciting.”

Daniel lets out a breathless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I … I don’t even know what to say. That’s — this is crazy.”

“I know,” you say, beaming. “But crazy is kind of our thing, isn’t it?”

He laughs again, though it’s still a little shaky. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

There’s a pause as Daniel tries to wrap his head around the fact that you, his new fiancée, just bought one of the most successful teams in Formula 1. He stares at you for a moment longer, then blinks, rubbing his temples like he’s getting a headache. “I … I don’t even know where to start. What does that even mean? You’re gonna be the new team owner?”

“Pretty much,” you say, like it’s no big deal. “And I’m planning to do a bit of restructuring. You know, make some changes, shake things up.”

Daniel gives you a skeptical look. “Restructuring? What kind of changes?”

“Well …” You tap your chin, pretending to think about it. “First of all, I figured I’d ask if there’s anyone you’d like me to keep around. I mean, it’s your engagement gift, after all. I want you to be happy with the team.”

Daniel snorts, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation.”

You lean closer, your eyes gleaming mischievously. “And I assume you’ll want me to keep your boyfriend, right?”

Daniel freezes, blinking at you in confusion. “My … boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” you say, deadpan. “Max.”

Daniel nearly chokes. “Wait — what?”

You burst out laughing, unable to keep a straight face any longer. “I’m talking about Max Verstappen! Don’t act so surprised.”

Daniel’s face flushes a deep red, and he shakes his head, exasperated. “We’re not — he’s not my — Jesus, you’re impossible.”

You pat his head, still laughing. “Sure, he’s not. Whatever you say.”

Daniel groans, covering his face with his hands. “Oh my God.”

You sit back, grinning at him. “So, do you want me to keep him or not?”

He lowers his hands, shooting you a look that’s half amused, half irritated. “Obviously, you keep him. He’s the best driver on the grid.”

You nod, pretending to jot down notes in the air. “Okay, so keep Max. Got it.”

Daniel leans back against the couch, staring at you like he still can’t believe this is real. “I can’t believe you just bought a Formula 1 team.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner,” you say with a grin.

Daniel laughs, though it’s tinged with disbelief. “And you’re just … going to be the boss now?”

You shrug. “Why not? It’s not like I haven’t run a business before. Plus, how hard can it be to manage a Formula 1 team?”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You do realize you’ll be dealing with, like, a whole bunch of egos and drama, right? It’s not just about racing. There’s politics, sponsorships, technical regulations …”

You wave a hand dismissively. “Details, details. I’ll figure it out.”

Daniel shakes his head, still grinning. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And that’s why you like me,” you quip, flashing him a playful wink.

Daniel’s smile softens, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes that you can’t quite place. But then he shakes his head again, chuckling. “Yeah, something like that.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, and Daniel’s gaze drifts back to the ring box still sitting on the coffee table between you. It feels surreal — like the last few days have been one long, crazy dream that neither of you can wake up from. But somehow, despite all the madness, there’s a strange sense of peace settling over the room.

Finally, Daniel breaks the silence with a quiet laugh. “So … when do you get to meet the team?”

You grin. “Soon enough. I’ll introduce you as my fiancé. It’ll be fun to see the look on everyone’s faces.”

Daniel snorts, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

“Oh, come on,” you tease. “You’ll love it. Don’t you like being the center of attention?”

He shoots you a playful glare. “I’m starting to regret this engagement.”

You laugh, leaning back into the couch. “Too late. You’re stuck with me now.”

Daniel chuckles, but there’s a warmth in his eyes as he looks at you. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

***

You and Daniel are curled up together on the plush couch, nestled under a thick blanket, a pint of ice cream balanced between the two of you. The glow of the TV flickers across the room as Crazy Rich Asians plays in the background, the glamorous scenes of Singapore flashing on the screen. You scoop a spoonful of ice cream and pop it into your mouth, your eyes glued to the over-the-top depiction of high society that, to you, feels more like a parody than reality.

“I mean, come on,” you mutter around a mouthful of ice cream, shaking your head. “That’s not how any of this works.”

Daniel glances at you, one eyebrow raised in amusement. “What do you mean? It looks pretty fancy to me.”

You roll your eyes, waving your spoon toward the screen. “Yeah, because all of us crazy rich Asians are just constantly jetting off to private islands in the middle of the week. And, of course, we throw dramatic, lavish parties for every minor inconvenience.”

Daniel grins, leaning back against the couch as he scoops up some ice cream. “I dunno, the whole secret wedding dress thing seemed pretty realistic to me.”

You nudge him playfully with your elbow, laughing. “Please. If anything, that’s understated.”

Daniel chuckles, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, so maybe Hollywood doesn’t exactly nail the rich lifestyle. But it’s entertaining.”

“Entertaining?” You snort, raising an eyebrow. “It’s borderline satire. Half the time, I’m watching these movies like, ‘Are you serious? Who even does that?’”

Daniel laughs again, clearly enjoying your commentary more than the actual movie. “Okay, but admit it, the wedding scene was pretty epic.”

You sigh dramatically. “Fine, I’ll give them that one. The water running down the aisle was a nice touch.”

“See? Even you have to admit there’s some good stuff in there,” Daniel says with a grin, licking his spoon.

You lean back against the couch, settling more comfortably into Daniel’s side as the movie continues to play. The ice cream between you starts to melt slightly, but neither of you seem to care, too caught up in the comfort of the moment. Your head rests on Daniel’s shoulder, and his arm is loosely draped around you.

There’s a comfortable silence between you two for a few minutes, the movie providing a soft background noise as you both watch absently. Then, without looking away from the screen, you break the silence with a casual question.

“Hey, so … do you want to drive for Red Bull next year?”

The question seems to catch Daniel off guard. His hand, mid-way to another scoop of ice cream, freezes in the air. He turns his head slightly to look at you, eyebrows furrowed in thought. He doesn’t say anything at first, and the silence stretches out long enough for you to glance up at him, wondering why he’s taking so long to respond.

“Daniel?” You prompt softly.

He pauses the movie, the room suddenly quiet without the chatter of characters and dramatic music. His face is serious now, a stark contrast to the playful mood from moments before. He places the spoon down in the pint and leans back, exhaling a long breath.

“I don’t know,” he finally says, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

You blink at him, confused. “You don’t know? What do you mean?”

Daniel rubs a hand over his face, looking down at his lap as if the answer is written there somewhere. “I mean, I don’t know if … if I deserve it. That seat.”

There’s a heavy pause as you process his words. The casualness of the evening suddenly feels distant, replaced by something more serious, more vulnerable. You turn slightly, facing him more directly now, your hand reaching out to rest on his knee.

“Why would you say that?” You ask, your voice quiet but firm.

Daniel looks up at you, his expression pained. “I’ve been dropped twice now. McLaren, VCARB … And, honestly, I didn’t do as well as I wanted. As well as they wanted. What if I’m just not cut out for it anymore? Maybe the sport’s moved on, and I haven’t.”

You frown, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s not true. You’re still an incredible driver.”

Daniel lets out a bitter laugh, though there’s no humor in it. “Incredible? You’ve seen the results. I’m nowhere near where I used to be. And Max? He’s on another level. It’s his team now.”

“Okay, first of all,” you say, your tone shifting into something more assertive, “don’t compare yourself to Max. You’re both amazing in your own ways. And second, this isn’t about what they want, Daniel. It’s about what you want.”

Daniel doesn’t respond right away. He just stares at the frozen image on the TV screen, lost in his thoughts. His jaw is tense, and you can tell he’s grappling with something deeper, something that’s been weighing on him for a long time.

You squeeze his knee gently, your voice softening. “You’ve still got it, Daniel. I know you do. And so does everyone else.”

He glances at you, his eyes searching your face like he’s trying to find some kind of reassurance in your words. “But what if … what if I can’t get back to where I was? What if I’m just holding onto something that’s not there anymore?”

“You’re not,” you say firmly, not missing a beat. “You’ve had a rough few seasons, sure. But that doesn’t mean you’ve lost it. It just means you’ve had setbacks. And if anyone knows how to bounce back, it’s you.”

Daniel still looks unsure, and you can tell there’s a part of him that’s scared — scared of failing again, scared of not living up to the expectations that have been placed on him, both by himself and by others.

You lean in closer, your voice gentle but insistent. “Daniel, you’re one of the best drivers in the world. You’ve proved that time and time again. Red Bull wouldn’t have taken you back if they didn’t believe in you. And I wouldn’t have bought the damn team if I didn’t believe in you either.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of Daniel’s lips at that, though it’s fleeting. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling deeply. “I just … I don’t know if I’m ready to go back. I don’t know if I can handle it if things go wrong again.”

You nod slowly, understanding the fear behind his words. It’s not just about driving. It’s about the pressure, the weight of expectation, the fear of failure.

“I get that,” you say softly. “But you can’t let fear stop you from doing what you love. You’ve been through a lot, I know. But that doesn’t mean it’s over. You have so much more left to give. And I’ll be there with you, every step of the way.”

Daniel meets your gaze, his eyes softening at your words. For a moment, the vulnerability in his expression is raw, unguarded. Then he reaches out, taking your hand in his, giving it a small squeeze.

“You really think I can do it?” He asks quietly.

You smile, squeezing his hand back. “I know you can.”

Daniel lets out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly as some of the tension seems to drain from him. He looks at you for a long moment, then nods, as if finally coming to terms with something inside himself.

“Alright,” he says, his voice a little steadier now. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” you say with a soft smile.

He leans back into the couch, and you both settle into a comfortable silence again, the tension from earlier slowly fading away. You reach for the remote and unpause the movie, but neither of you are really paying attention to it anymore. Instead, you both sit there, sharing the ice cream, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air but somehow lighter now.

***

The evening is quiet, the city’s hum muted behind the large windows of your penthouse. The movie’s credits are rolling, but neither you nor Daniel has made a move to turn off the TV. Instead, you both sit there, wrapped up in the soft blanket, the nearly empty pint of ice cream abandoned on the coffee table. There’s a sense of calm in the air, but underneath it, you can feel something unspoken, simmering just below the surface.

You glance at Daniel, who’s leaning back into the couch, his gaze distant. He’s still processing, you can tell — about Red Bull, about everything that’s been thrown at him lately. The weight of it all seems heavier in the silence.

After a long moment, you shift slightly, turning your body to face him more directly. “Daniel,” you say softly, your voice breaking the quiet.

He blinks, coming back to the present, and looks at you with a small, tired smile. “Yeah?”

“You’ve said something a lot that I keep thinking about,” you begin, carefully choosing your words. “The whole ‘enjoy the butterflies’ thing. I’ve heard you say it in interviews, but I don’t think I ever really understood what you meant by it.”

Daniel’s smile falters a bit, and he looks away, his expression growing thoughtful. He doesn’t say anything at first, and you can see he’s retreating into his thoughts again, the way he does when he’s trying to figure out how to articulate something that matters to him.

You reach out, placing a hand gently on his arm, coaxing him back to the conversation. “What does it really mean to you? Enjoy the butterflies?”

Daniel takes a deep breath, his fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “It’s … it’s kinda hard to explain,” he says slowly, his accent thicker when he’s being reflective. “It’s not just about racing, you know? It’s more about the feeling — the nerves, the excitement, the anticipation. All those little moments that make your stomach flip.”

He pauses, glancing at you as if gauging whether you’re following. You nod, encouraging him to continue.

“I think,” he says, his voice quieter now, “for the longest time, I used to hate that feeling. The butterflies. It always made me feel … unsure. Like, am I good enough? Am I ready? Every time I’d get in the car, no matter how many times I’d done it before, I’d still feel that little twinge of anxiety. And for a while, I thought it was a bad thing.”

You listen intently, your eyes never leaving his face as he speaks. There’s something raw and real in his words, a vulnerability that you don’t often see in him.

“But then, I don’t know,” he continues, “at some point, I started to see it differently. Like, maybe those butterflies aren’t a sign of weakness. Maybe they’re a sign that you’re doing something that matters. That you’re alive. That you care.”

You nod slowly, your hand still resting on his arm. “That makes sense.”

Daniel meets your gaze again, his eyes softening. “Yeah. So now, when I feel the butterflies, I try to embrace it, you know? Instead of fighting it. Because if you’re not nervous, if you don’t feel anything, then what’s the point?”

You lean back slightly, absorbing his words. There’s a quiet wisdom in what he’s saying, a reminder that life’s most meaningful moments are often the ones that scare us the most. You think about how that applies to you — not just in your relationship with Daniel, but in everything. The choices you’ve made, the risks you’ve taken, the moments when you’ve doubted yourself. Maybe those butterflies are a part of the journey, too.

“I get that,” you say softly, nodding. “But … do you still feel them? After all this time?”

Daniel smiles, but it’s tinged with something bittersweet. “Every single time.”

You look at him for a long moment, the weight of his honesty settling between you. There’s something comforting in knowing that even someone like Daniel — someone who’s faced so many high-pressure moments, who’s been at the top of his game — still feels that same uncertainty, that same flutter of nerves.

“But now,” he adds, his voice softening even more, “I think the butterflies aren’t just about fear. They’re about excitement, too. Like, yeah, maybe I’m nervous, but I’m also excited because it means I still care. I still love what I do, even when it’s hard.”

You smile gently, your hand giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “That’s beautiful, Daniel. Really.”

He chuckles lightly, looking almost embarrassed by the compliment. “I don’t know about beautiful, but it helps me get through the tough days.”

There’s a pause, and you can feel the conversation shifting into something deeper, something more personal. You take a breath, feeling the moment settling between you like a quiet pulse.

“Do you ever get tired of it, though?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper. “The butterflies, the pressure, the weight of it all?”

Daniel tilts his head back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He doesn’t answer right away, but when he does, his voice is tinged with a kind of quiet resignation. “Yeah. Sometimes. Sometimes it feels like too much, like it’s all building up and I just … don’t know how to keep going.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you’re not sure how to respond. You’ve seen Daniel at his best, but you’ve also seen him at his lowest. The moments when he’s struggled, when he’s doubted himself. And yet, through it all, he’s always managed to push through. To keep going.

“But,” he continues after a beat, his voice soft but steady, “those moments don’t last forever. And when they pass, when I’m back in the car, or when I’ve crossed the finish line, it’s like … I remember why I do it. Why I love it.”

You watch him closely, your heart swelling with both admiration and empathy. “You’re stronger than you think, Daniel.”

He glances at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just stubborn.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I think it’s a little bit of both.”

Daniel grins at that, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He shifts on the couch, turning more toward you, his hand reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. There’s a softness in his touch, a quiet intimacy that makes your heart skip a beat.

“You know,” he says quietly, “you’ve got your own butterflies too. I’ve seen them.”

You raise an eyebrow, slightly surprised. “Oh, really?”

Daniel nods, his eyes locking onto yours. “Yeah. Whenever you’re about to make a big decision or when something’s stressing you out. You get this look in your eyes, like you’re bracing yourself for something.”

You blink, taken aback by his observation. “I didn’t realize you noticed.”

He smiles gently. “I notice a lot about you.”

The room falls into a comfortable silence again, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air like a shared secret. You can feel your heart beating a little faster, the warmth of Daniel’s words wrapping around you like a blanket.

“Do you ever wish the butterflies would go away?” You ask after a moment, your voice soft.

Daniel shakes his head slowly. “No. I don’t think I do. Because if they did, that would mean I’ve stopped caring. And I don’t ever want to stop caring.”

You nod, understanding now in a way you didn’t before. The butterflies aren’t something to fear — they’re a reminder that you’re alive, that you’re still passionate, that you’re still fighting for what matters.

You smile softly, leaning in closer to him. “I think I’ll try to enjoy the butterflies a little more.”

Daniel smiles back, his hand gently resting on your cheek. “Good. You should.”

And for the first time in a long time, you feel a sense of peace settle over you — a quiet understanding that, no matter what happens next, you’ll face it with open hearts and, yes, even a few butterflies.

***

The Red Bull Racing factory is a hive of quiet activity. The entire team, from mechanics to engineers, marketing staff to the senior management, stands gathered in a large meeting room just off the factory floor. Whispers ripple through the crowd, conversations hushed and speculative. It’s unusual to have the entire team assembled like this — especially during the off-season.

But today is different. They’ve been told that the team’s new owner will be making her first official appearance, and no one knows what to expect.

The announcement of Red Bull Racing’s sale had come out of nowhere, a shock to everyone. No one knew who the buyer was, only that it was someone with enough money to pull off the purchase in record time. The rumors had flown, the speculation mounting over the past few weeks, but nothing concrete had leaked. All they knew was that something big was coming. Something — someone — new.

The murmur of voices grows louder as the minutes tick by. Eyes dart toward the doors at the far end of the room, the anticipation palpable. Then, the doors swing open.

You walk in, a vision of confidence, head held high. The noise in the room instantly dies down, replaced by the stunned silence of dozens of pairs of eyes turning in your direction. Beside you, Daniel walks in, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, a familiar but unusual sight for the Red Bull team.

The shock is immediate, rippling through the room like a wave. Everyone stares, first at you, then at Daniel, as if trying to piece together how any of this makes sense. The whispers start up again, but you don’t let it faze you. Instead, you step forward with a wide, almost mischievous smile on your face.

“Good morning, everyone!” You greet them brightly, clapping your hands once, the sound echoing in the room. “I’m sure most of you have heard by now, but allow me to introduce myself formally. I’m your new boss.”

You pause, letting the statement sink in as the team stares at you in stunned silence. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I’m thrilled to be taking over as the owner of Red Bull Racing.”

There’s a beat of silence, the team processing the bombshell, before a smattering of hesitant applause starts. You nod, acknowledging the claps, but there’s still a palpable tension in the room. You know they’re still confused, still reeling from the surprise. You’re not done yet.

“And I have one more introduction to make,” you say, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips. You glance over at Daniel, who’s standing beside you, a little less sure of himself than usual but still flashing that signature Ricciardo smile. “This is my fiancé, Daniel Ricciardo.”

The room gasps. The shock is real this time, murmurs breaking out instantly among the team. Fiancé? Some people turn to each other, others crane their necks to get a better look at Daniel. The whispers intensify, but you continue as if none of it fazes you.

“And I have some exciting news for all of you today,” you say, your voice cutting through the growing chatter. You step forward again, your gaze sweeping across the room. “With the team being restructured, and with Sergio Perez deciding to take some time away from the sport to be with his family …” You pause, letting that hang for a moment, watching the confusion bloom on their faces. “I’m thrilled to announce that Daniel will be returning to Red Bull Racing as a driver next season.”

The room falls completely silent again, a collective intake of breath. For a long moment, no one says a word. Then, as if on cue, someone begins clapping. It’s slow at first, hesitant, but then others join in, and soon the room is filled with applause. The realization starts to settle in.

Daniel Ricciardo — back at Red Bull.

You glance at Daniel, and his eyes meet yours. For a second, you see the flicker of uncertainty in them, the weight of everything hanging in the air. But then, as the applause grows, you see the shift — the spark of confidence returning to him, the slow curve of a genuine smile spreading across his face.

Daniel steps forward, raising a hand to quiet the crowd, but they don’t stop clapping for several more seconds. Finally, the noise dies down enough for him to speak.

“Wow, uh … thanks for that,” Daniel begins, clearly taken aback by the reaction. He rubs the back of his neck, his grin widening as he takes in the faces of the people who, not so long ago, had been his team. “I’ve gotta admit, it feels pretty good to be standing here again.”

A few people in the crowd chuckle, a ripple of warmth spreading through the room.

“I know it’s been a strange few years,” Daniel continues, his voice more serious now. “There were times when I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get back to this place. But when Y/N came into my life, well, let’s just say she’s good at making the impossible happen.” He glances at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and affection, and you feel your heart flutter in response.

The room watches this exchange, enraptured. There’s something surreal about seeing Daniel Ricciardo, a former Red Bull driver, now standing next to the team’s new owner — his fiancée, no less. It’s a lot for them to process.

Daniel turns back to the team, his expression softening as he addresses them. “This place has always been special to me,” he says quietly. “I’ve had some of my best moments in my career here, and I’m so grateful for the chance to come back and create more memories with you all. I know it’s not going to be easy, and I’ve got a lot to prove. But I’m ready. I’m ready to give everything I’ve got.”

The room bursts into applause again, louder this time, more genuine. The team members seem to be warming up to the idea now, their initial shock replaced by excitement. A few of the senior engineers, who had been with the team during Daniel’s previous stint, exchange nods of approval. There’s a growing sense of anticipation, the mood in the room shifting.

You watch Daniel as he steps back, the energy of the moment clearly lifting him. He catches your eye again, and for a brief moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you in the room. His smile is softer now, more private, meant just for you. You feel a surge of warmth, the bond between you solidifying even more in this shared experience.

Then, clearing your throat, you step forward again, reclaiming the attention of the room. “Now, I know this is a lot to take in,” you say, your tone playful. “But don’t worry. Daniel and I aren’t here to shake things up too much … unless we need to.” A few chuckles ripple through the room at that. “We’re committed to making sure this team remains at the top of the sport. And we’re going to do whatever it takes to get there.”

The applause comes again, more enthusiastic this time. You can feel the room shifting from shock to acceptance, and even a little excitement. The Red Bull team is known for its resilience, for thriving in the face of challenges, and this is no different.

As the clapping fades, one of the senior team members — a man with graying hair and a knowing smile — steps forward. He glances between you and Daniel, then says, “Well, if Daniel’s back, I guess we better start preparing for some shoeys.”

The room bursts into laughter, and even Daniel can’t help but laugh along with them, shaking his head. “You better believe it,” he says with a grin.

Slowly, the group begins to disperse, people heading back to their workstations, some still murmuring excitedly about the news. You catch snippets of conversation — mentions of Daniel’s return, your surprising entrance, and speculation about what’s next for the team.

As the room clears, Daniel turns to you, his expression soft. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You smile at him, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you. “It’s just the beginning,” you say, your voice filled with determination. “We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”

Daniel grins, reaching for your hand. “Yeah, but I think we’re gonna be just fine.”

You squeeze his hand, your heart swelling with excitement and love. Together, you’ve just taken the first step into a new chapter — one filled with challenges, risks, and plenty of butterflies. But you know, with Daniel by your side, there’s nothing you can’t handle.

And as you leave the factory hand in hand, the future stretches out before you — unknown, thrilling, and entirely yours to shape.

***

The roars from the Melbourne crowd reverberate through the air as the final lap of the Australian Grand Prix begins. The cameras lock onto Daniel’s Red Bull, the #3 flashing as it leads the pack by several seconds. The circuit is electric, and the commentators can barely contain themselves.

“Here we are on the final lap,” David Croft’s voice crackles through the Sky Sports broadcast, almost trembling with excitement. “Daniel Ricciardo, the hometown hero, is this close to claiming his ninth career win — and his first ever win here in Australia. You can hear the crowd, the energy in the air — it’s absolutely incredible!”

Beside him, Martin Brundle jumps in, his tone equal parts admiration and disbelief. “This is what the fans have been waiting for, for years. After everything Daniel’s been through — leaving Red Bull, bouncing between teams, and now back with Red Bull and at the front of the grid — this will be a monumental moment, not just for Daniel, but for every Australian who’s dreamed of seeing him on the top step here.”

The camera flickers briefly to the Red Bull garage. You’re standing at the front, practically on your toes as you watch the live feed with bated breath, every nerve in your body tense with anticipation. You’re surrounded by engineers, mechanics, and team members, but it’s clear that all eyes in the garage are on you. The new team owner, the mastermind behind Daniel’s return to the team. And now, you’re witnessing the culmination of it all.

“Look at that,” Brundle says as the camera focuses on you. “There’s Daniel’s fiancée and the new team owner, Y/N Y/L/N. You’ve got to imagine what this moment means for her too, after buying the team and making the bold decision to bring Daniel back. She’s been nothing short of instrumental in this comeback.”

Crofty’s voice grows louder as Daniel approaches the final few corners. “And here he comes now, through Turn 13, a perfect line through there — keeping it clean. The crowd is going wild, and you can see why! He’s a few corners away from victory, from making history on home soil.”

As the camera switches back to the track, Daniel’s race engineer comes over the radio, his voice steady but filled with excitement.

“Alright, mate. Just bring it home now. One more corner. You’ve got this.”

There’s a brief pause before Daniel’s reply crackles over the airwaves, his voice barely containing his elation. “I’ve got it, mate! I’ve bloody got it!”

The Red Bull flies around the final corner, the engine roaring, and Daniel rockets down the straight toward the checkered flag. The crowd’s roar is deafening as he crosses the line.

“And there it is! Daniel Ricciardo wins the Australian Grand Prix!” Crofty yells, his voice barely audible over the roaring fans. “His ninth career win — and what a win it is! His first win here in Australia, and you can just feel how much this means to him and the crowd!”

The camera immediately cuts back to you, your face a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy. You’re laughing, hands clasped over your mouth as the enormity of the moment sinks in. The entire Red Bull garage erupts into cheers, people hugging and high-fiving all around you, but you’re frozen for a moment, just soaking in the euphoria of the victory.

“Look at her reaction!” Brundle says with a chuckle. “You can tell just how much this moment means to the team owner. It’s not just a win for Daniel — it’s a win for them. What a partnership!”

The scene cuts to Daniel inside the cockpit, raising his fists in victory as he slows the car on the cool-down lap. His voice comes over the radio again, almost breathless.

“YEEEEES! Let’s go! Oh my god, we did it! We actually did it!” Daniel shouts, his voice cracking with emotion.

“Mate, you’re a race winner in Australia!” His race engineer’s voice is filled with pride. “Take it in, soak it all in. This is your moment.”

“I’ve waited so long for this …” Daniel’s voice is quieter now, more introspective. “Thank you, everyone. This is unbelievable.”

As he makes his way around the track on the cool-down lap, the camera follows him, showing the thousands of fans on their feet, waving Australian flags and cheering for their hero. It’s an emotional scene, the kind that will go down in F1 history. The commentators fall silent for a moment, letting the raw emotion of the moment speak for itself.

Finally, Crofty breaks the silence. “Daniel Ricciardo has just made history. He’s become the first Australian driver to win here in Melbourne in front of his home crowd, and you can just see how much this means — not just to him, but to every fan in the stands.”

Daniel pulls into parc fermé, his car screeching to a halt under the massive “P1” sign. The mechanics are already leaning over the barriers, waiting for him, their arms raised in celebration. Daniel clambers out of the car, pulls off his helmet, and lets out a roar, his signature grin plastered on his face. The crowd erupts once more, their hero standing victorious before them.

The Red Bull team surrounds him, cheering and patting him on the back. But Daniel's eyes are searching, scanning the pit lane for you. Finally, they find you in the crowd, and without hesitation, he breaks away from the chaos and runs straight to you.

“Hey, boss,” he says, pulling you into a tight hug, his voice barely above the roar of the fans. “Did I do alright?”

You laugh, pushing him back playfully. “I’d say you did more than alright.”

Daniel grins, his smile wide and genuine, and then he’s swept back into the celebrations, the team lifting him onto their shoulders as the cameras capture every second.

The podium celebrations come next, the lights glittering, the trophy standing proud. Daniel, Max Verstappen, and Charles Leclerc climb onto the podium, their faces reflecting the joy and exhaustion of a hard-fought race. The national anthems play, first for Australia, then for Austria, and the crowd sings along, their pride and passion tangible.

When the champagne is finally handed out, Daniel holds his bottle aloft, savoring the moment. He walks to the edge of the podium, holding his finger up to signal the crowd. The fans know what’s coming. The mechanics in the garage know what’s coming. You, standing just below the podium, know what’s coming.

Daniel unlaces his boot and fills it with champagne, holding it high as he looks out over the sea of fans. The crowd roars with approval.

“Oh no …” Brundle says with a laugh, watching from the Sky Sports commentary booth. “Here we go. It wouldn’t be a Daniel Ricciardo victory without a shoey!”

Daniel grins and, with the flair only he can pull off, drinks the champagne from his shoe. The crowd cheers louder than ever, reveling in the chaotic joy of the moment. Even Max, standing beside him, cracks a smile as Daniel offers him the boot, but Max declines with a laugh, shaking his head.

As Daniel finishes the shoey, he looks down at you with a cheeky grin. He points the boot in your direction, his eyes twinkling.

“Wanna join in?” He shouts down, loud enough for the camera to catch.

You cross your arms, shaking your head with a smirk. “Absolutely not.”

Daniel laughs, tossing the boot aside and grabbing the champagne again, spraying the crowd as the podium celebration continues. The cameras capture everything, the joy, the fun, the relief of a long journey finally reaching its pinnacle.

Back in the commentary booth, Crofty speaks again, his voice soft but filled with admiration. “Daniel Ricciardo, a winner in Australia, celebrating in true Ricciardo style. This win means more than just points on the board — it’s the result of hard work, perseverance, and a love for racing.”

Brundle nods, his tone warm. “You’ve got to hand it to Daniel, and to Y/N Y/L/N as well. She brought him back to Red Bull, believed in him when others didn’t, and now they’re celebrating together on the biggest stage. It’s a fairytale moment.”

As the champagne rains down on the podium, Daniel glances over at you again, his face still lit up with that signature Ricciardo grin. And even though you’re not up there with him, he knows that none of this would’ve been possible without you by his side.

This is your team, your driver, and your moment.

It’s because he’s good at his job

Better Than Melatonin

Kinktober Day 1 → Cockwarming 💋 Toto Wolff

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

The room is dark, lit only by the dim, golden glow from the bedside lamp. Toto sits on the edge of the bed, watching you as you toss and turn. The sheets tangle around your legs, and your face is scrunched up in frustration.

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, his voice low, almost a rumble.

You freeze for a second, not expecting him to still be awake. “I’m fine,” you reply, though it’s clear that you’re anything but.

Toto raises an eyebrow, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ve been moving around for the last hour. You’re not fine.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know … I just can’t seem to get comfortable.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, just continues to watch you, eyes narrowed as if he’s trying to figure something out. It’s unnerving, the way he studies you, as if you’re a puzzle he’s determined to solve. Finally, he speaks, his voice a deep, soothing timbre.

“Come here.”

You hesitate, unsure of what he’s planning. “Toto, I don’t-”

“Come here,” he repeats, more insistent this time. There’s a tone in his voice that makes it clear he’s not going to take no for an answer.

Reluctantly, you scoot closer to him, feeling the mattress dip under his weight. He’s so much larger than you, a wall of muscle and authority, and yet, there’s something undeniably comforting about his presence.

You rest your head on his chest, his steady heartbeat thrumming beneath your ear. For a moment, the world seems to settle, the chaos in your mind quieting down just a little.

But then you shift, trying to find a position that doesn’t feel so … awkward.

“You’re still tense,” he murmurs, his hand coming to rest on your hip.

You nod, biting your lip. “I guess … I guess I’m just not used to this.”

“This?” He prompts, his hand sliding up your side, his fingers trailing along your skin in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

“Sharing a bed,” you admit, your voice barely more than a whisper. “With someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” He echoes, and there’s a hint of amusement in his tone.

You huff, frustrated by your own inability to explain. “You know what I mean. You’re … you’re Toto Wolff. And I’m just … me.”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through your entire body. “You’re not just anything, Häschen.” His hand cups your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, intense, and for a moment, you feel like you’re drowning in them. “You’re mine.”

The words send a thrill through you, a mix of excitement and nerves. “Toto …”

“Shh,” he hushes you, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

You want to argue, to tell him that you’re fine, that you don’t need him to take care of you, but the words die on your tongue as he shifts, his body pressing you into the mattress. There’s no urgency in his movements, no rush, just a slow, deliberate claiming of space. His hands are everywhere, warm and sure, and before you know it, he’s positioned himself between your legs.

Your breath catches in your throat as you realize what he’s doing. “Toto, wait, I-”

“Trust me,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He’s so close now, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

But you don’t want him to stop. You want this, want him, even though you’re still nervous, still unsure. There’s something about the way he touches you, the way he looks at you, that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world.

So you nod, giving him permission without words. He understands, of course he does, and slowly, carefully, he presses into you, filling you in a way that makes your mind go blissfully blank.

You gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as he settles deep inside you. He’s so big, so overwhelming, but it’s not painful. It’s just … intense.

“Easy,” he soothes, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Breathe.”

You do as he says, focusing on the rise and fall of your chest, the steady rhythm of your breathing. He stays still, just holding you, filling you, and somehow, that’s enough to calm the frantic thoughts racing through your mind.

After a moment, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression softening in a way that you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. “Better?”

You nod again, feeling a little dazed. “Yeah … better.”

“Good,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Now sleep.”

You blink up at him, confused. “Sleep? Like this?”

“Exactly like this,” he replies, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The idea of falling asleep like this, with him still inside you, is strange and yet … comforting. It’s as if he’s claiming you in a way that’s both physical and emotional, a silent promise that he’s not going to let you go.

“Okay,” you whisper, your body relaxing against him. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your temple.

You close your eyes, focusing on the steady rhythm of his breathing, the warmth of his body surrounding you. Slowly, the tension drains from your muscles, your mind drifting into a pleasant haze. It’s strange, but for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel safe. Safe and … loved.

Toto doesn’t move, just holds you, his hand resting on your hip, his thumb tracing slow circles against your skin. You can feel him still inside you, a constant, grounding presence that lulls you into a sense of peace.

“Sleep, Häschen,” he whispers again, and this time, you don’t fight it.

You let yourself drift, the world fading away until there’s nothing left but the steady beat of his heart and the feeling of him, warm and solid, holding you close.

***

The soft, rhythmic click of the keyboard echoes through the dimly lit room. Toto’s office is a sanctuary of sleek modernity — glass, steel, and leather, with the subtle hum of computers creating a low, constant backdrop.

His eyes are glued to the screen, sharp and focused, his mind immersed in the layers of data that demand his attention. But despite the intensity of his work, he’s aware of the time — late, far too late for you to be awake.

And yet, there’s a soft creak of the door opening behind him, barely perceptible but enough to make him pause, his hands hovering over the keyboard. He glances up, his eyes narrowing as they adjust to the sight of you standing in the doorway, hesitant and small in the oversized t-shirt you’ve borrowed from him.

“Häschen?” His voice is gentle, but there’s an edge of concern. “What are you doing up?”

You shift on your feet, unsure how to explain. Your eyes are heavy with exhaustion, but there’s something else there too — a need, something unspoken but clear in the way you linger in the doorway. “I … I couldn’t sleep.”

Toto sighs, his expression softening as he leans back in his chair, taking in the sight of you. You look so vulnerable, standing there with your arms wrapped around yourself, as if you’re trying to ward off some unseen cold. He knows exactly why you can’t sleep — why you’ve been struggling on nights when he’s not in bed beside you.

“Come here,” he says, his tone a mixture of command and tenderness.

You hesitate, still unsure, but the pull is too strong. Slowly, you pad across the room, the cold hardwood floor making you shiver as you approach him.

Toto watches you carefully, his gaze never leaving yours as you finally reach his desk. He reaches out, taking your hand and pulling you closer until you’re standing between his legs, his warmth already seeping into you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were having trouble sleeping?” He asks, his voice low as his hand comes up to caress your cheek.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you murmur, your eyes downcast. “I know you’re busy.”

He frowns at that, his thumb brushing against your lower lip in a gesture that’s become all too familiar. “You’re never a bother to me, Häschen. You should know that by now.”

You nod, but it’s clear you’re still holding back, your body tense despite his reassuring words. “I just … I can’t sleep without you.”

The admission hangs in the air between you, heavy with the weight of your vulnerability. Toto’s eyes soften, a mix of pride and concern flashing through them as he pulls you closer, his hands firm on your hips. “You need me that much, hm?”

You bite your lip, embarrassed but unable to deny it. “I guess I do.”

His response is immediate. Without a word, he lifts you effortlessly, turning you so that you’re perched on his lap, your legs straddling his hips.

You let out a small gasp, your hands instinctively gripping his shoulders as he settles you against him. The warmth of his body, the solid feel of him beneath you, it all works to ease some of the tension from your muscles, but it’s not enough.

Toto seems to understand, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt, finding purchase on your bare skin. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t push, just holds you there, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along your spine. “Tell me what you need, Häschen.”

You close your eyes, leaning into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. It’s a simple request, but it’s one that fills you with an odd mixture of longing and shame. “I need … I need you.”

His grip tightens ever so slightly, a reassuring pressure that grounds you. “I’m right here.”

“No,” you shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need you … like before.”

Toto’s hands still on your back, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve pushed too far. But then, he shifts, his hand coming up to cup your chin, tilting your face so that you’re forced to meet his gaze. “You want me to fill you, Häschen? Is that what you need?”

There’s no judgment in his tone, only understanding and a deep, unyielding care that makes your heart ache. You nod, feeling a tear slip down your cheek, more out of relief than anything else.

“Then that’s what you’ll have,” he murmurs, wiping the tear away with his thumb before capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

He doesn’t rush, doesn’t demand. Everything he does is with a deliberate slowness, an assurance that he’s here, that he’s not going anywhere. His hands slide down to your hips, lifting you just enough so that he can position himself against you. You feel the hard length of him pressing against your entrance, and there’s a moment of hesitation, a brief flash of nerves that makes you tense up.

“Shh, relax,” Toto soothes, his lips brushing against your temple. “I’ve got you, Häschen. Let me take care of you.”

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to relax as he slowly lowers you onto him, filling you inch by inch until he’s buried deep inside. It’s a stretch, a fullness that’s overwhelming and yet, it’s exactly what you need. The tension that’s been keeping you awake, the restless energy that’s been gnawing at you, it all melts away the moment he’s inside you.

“There you go,” Toto whispers, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

You can only nod, your face buried in the crook of his neck as you cling to him, your body trembling with relief. He doesn’t move, doesn’t thrust or push, just holds you there, letting you get used to the feeling of being so completely filled by him.

Toto’s hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair as he rocks you gently in his lap. “You’re doing so well, Häschen. Just let go. I’ve got you.”

You close your eyes, focusing on the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his body surrounding you. His hands are everywhere, holding you, grounding you, and it’s not long before you feel the exhaustion creeping back in, your body finally relaxing against him.

“That’s it,” Toto murmurs, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Just sleep, Häschen. I’ll be right here.”

You try to fight it, try to stay awake, but it’s a losing battle. The combination of his warmth, his scent, the steady rhythm of his breathing — it all works together to lull you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Toto doesn’t move, doesn’t shift even an inch as you drift off. He stays still, his hands keeping you anchored to him, his eyes softening as he watches you finally find the peace that had been eluding you all night.

The minutes tick by, the silence of the room only broken by the soft sounds of your breathing, the occasional rustle of the sheets as you shift in your sleep. Toto continues to work, his fingers moving deftly over the keyboard, but his focus is only half on the screen. The other half is on you — on the way your body relaxes completely against him, on the way your lips part slightly as you breathe, on the way you trust him so implicitly to take care of you.

It’s a feeling that stirs something deep inside him, something protective, something possessive. You’re his, in every way that matters, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe, that you’re happy, that you know you’re loved.

Time slips by unnoticed as Toto works, the hours stretching out as the night deepens. Every so often, he glances down at you, checking to make sure you’re still comfortable, still resting peacefully. Each time, he finds you just as he left you, your body still pressed close to his, your breathing even and calm.

It’s only when the first hints of dawn begin to creep through the windows, the sky lightening to a soft, pale blue, that Toto finally lets out a breath, his work done for the night. He looks down at you, still asleep in his lap, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

Carefully, so as not to wake you, he shuts down his computer, the soft whir of the machines fading into silence. Then, with the same gentle care, he shifts you in his arms, lifting you as he stands, cradling you against his chest.

You stir slightly, a soft murmur escaping your lips, but you don’t wake, your head resting against his shoulder as he carries you out of the office and down the hallway to the bedroom. The bed is still unmade from earlier, the sheets a tangled mess, but Toto doesn’t care. All that matters is getting you settled, making sure you’re comfortable.

He lays you down carefully, his movements slow and deliberate as he pulls the covers over you. For a moment, he just stands there, watching you sleep, a strange sense of peace settling over him. You look so small, so fragile in the big bed, and yet, there’s a strength to you, a quiet resilience that he admires more than he can put into words.

Finally, he slips into bed beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you close. You instinctively curl into him, seeking out his warmth even in sleep, and Toto can’t help but smile as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

As he settles beside you, he gently lifts your leg over his hip, positioning himself against your entrance. With a slow, careful motion, he slips back inside you, filling you completely once more.

You sigh in your sleep, a contented sound that melts into a soft moan, and your body instinctively curls closer to him, seeking his warmth and strength. Toto holds you there, his presence filling you completely, a sense of belonging settling over both of you. He strokes your back, soothing and slow, his own eyes growing heavy with sleep as the night finally gives way to dawn.

With you nestled in his arms, warm and secure, Toto allows himself to drift off, knowing that you're exactly where you belong — in his arms, perfectly content and loved.

Happy Simi day!

bonus:

"I promised Kimi that one day I would beat him [at badminton]. We're both getting older. I'm eight years younger than him, so at the latest when he's really old and I'm just a younger old man, I'll beat him in that game." - Seb, 2008

"He said to me that he is gonna beat me when I get older, but so far it hasn't happened." - Kimi, 2021

Proceed With Caution // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: The reader doesn’t expect to become involved in a hostage situation with her fiance’s older sister, the older sister’s best friend and the best friend’s date from hell. With the addition of a SWAT member, how will the taking of dispatch change?

Warnings: Swearing, blood, threats, angst, guns, hostage/kidnapping

Words: 5.9k

A/N: Recently got into the tv show 9-1-1 and completely fell in love with Buck so here I am writing for him as well. This takes place during the season three episode ‘The Taking of Dispatch 9-1-1’. Reader and Buck are already in an established relationship.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

The apartment was quiet as the sound of your keys clattered in the bowl on the countertop. It was pretty early in the morning, so you had no doubts that Buck would be just waking up. On his days off, he would use the first day to catch up on sleep; based on prior times, he would be up in half an hour.

“Buck?” You called out from the kitchen. You heard a groan from the loft where Buck was in the process of waking up, “I forgot to drop off that book Maddie wants to borrow. When I get back, do you want to get breakfast?”

A grumble you somehow translated to approval was what you received in response. You jogged up the stairs to the loft to grab the book from your bookshelf. Buck’s bare leg stretched out from underneath the comforter on your side. The soft sighs Buck made in his sleepy state tugged at your heart; the sighs grew louder when you bent to kiss his head.

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𝓓𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂!!!!! 😈😈😈😈

Why does he always look so good???

🥵🥵🤤

Boss 😎❤️👀