CARE FOR YOU -Lewis Hamilton

Y/N: I don't know how to tell you this, but... I love you.

Dean: That's great, Y/N. Especially considering the fact we've been married for 6 fucking years.

Harry Styles Golden

I can’t fucking wait!!!! I am checking my youtube and social media every fucking second.... harold loves to tease us...... AAAHHH HELP ME!!!!!

Honestly shame on anyone who has sent hate or said shit about @faithshouseofchaos

The fact that this sport was full of enough toxic masculinity before more women started getting into motorsports and then we finally do and find our space and were chased out and ridiculed by toxic “fans.”

Let me tell you one thing, you are not fans and you should be ashamed of yourselves to call yourself one if this is how you treat other fans in this space let alone if this is how you’re treating another human being.

Take that insecurity and take that toxicity and shove it up your ass and leave people alone if you’ve got nothing better to do with your time.

Sincerely ~nurse-sainz

MILLION DOLLAR WOMAN | OP81

an: i head to france tomorrow guys, today is my final day of freedom rip. this was so fun to write because imagine just finding out your partner is a millionaire fr, based off of this request

wc: 2.5k

Oscar could see her sitting at the dining table through the floor-to-ceiling windows as he parked his car. The quiet of their home in Monaco always took him by surprise—no revving engines, no buzz of the pit crew. Just her typing away on her laptop with her usual cup of tea. She looked up as he walked in, gave him a quick smile, and then returned to her screen. Always so relaxed, even as he walked in carrying the tension of a bad training session.

"Good day?" she asked, barely looking up. He nodded and mumbled something about a corner he'd taken too fast. She listened but didn’t pry. She never did. That's how she was. She was more interested in weekend hikes than race standings, in cooking simple meals than joining him at fancy team dinners. It was a refreshing kind of simplicity, though sometimes a little mystifying. She didn’t ask about the sport or his schedule, never got jealous over the fans, and didn’t seem to care about the lifestyle that came with dating an F1 driver.

In a way, it was...perfect. He didn’t have to worry about her growing tired of his schedule, or about her expectations getting out of hand. She worked her 9-to-5, met him after, and never asked for more. The fact that she paid for her own things when they went out had caught him off-guard at first, but she’d laughed and shrugged it off when he offered to take care of the bill. "I’m used to it," she’d said. And that had been that. No strings, no expectations.

Tonight, she must’ve been finishing something for work, because she was typing away with focus. He walked into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water, glancing over his shoulder at her every now and then, content. The glow of her screen was the only light in the room; the apartment was quiet but comfortable, like this was all they’d ever need.

“How’s work?” He asked as he shut the fridge.

She briefly looked up, “Long” she sighed but smiled at him.

As he walked past her he placed a brief kiss on her forehead and slid onto the sofa, stretching out and letting the quietness of home sink into his bones. She was already back to her typing, nodding to herself as she worked through whatever was in front of her. It was one of those things he found himself both fascinated by and grateful for—she didn’t need him to fill the silence. She seemed just fine with her job, her laptop, her little rituals that didn’t have anything to do with him.

Oscar watched her for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through emails and messages. A lot of them were about his upcoming sponsorship deal, a whirlwind of numbers and logistics. He thought about calling his manager to check the final figures but decided against it. Just thinking about it wore him out.

He read email after email as he heard the scrape of a chair, he looked up to see her stand up and take a call in their terrace, something he adored about this house.

Then his phone rang, Mark, he picked up automatically. “Yeah, hey,” he said, voice still soft from the calmness of the evening. As he talked through the details with him, he realised he needed to jot something down. With no pen or paper in reach, he glanced over to the dining table where she always kept a notepad beside her tea.

Oscar rose, walking over to her seat, quietly picking up her pen. But as he did, his eyes fell onto the screen of her laptop, where her banking app was open.

It was one glance, just a flicker of his eyes, but enough for him to catch sight of the balance there. He paused mid-sentence, his own words catching in his throat.

That number didn’t look right.

Surely it was missing a decimal.

Wrapping up the conversation with Mark, he wrote down what he needed, and looked at the screen once more. In that time, she’d walked back into the room, her feet padding on the cool granite of their dining room floor.

Oscar couldn’t take his eyes off the screen.

"Hey," he said, voice a little strained, still trying to process what he was seeing. "Uh…how much money do you make?"

She blinked, the corner of her mouth lifting in that effortless way of hers. "Enough," she said with a little laugh. "Why?"

Oscar blinked, struggling to wrap his head around it. This was his girlfriend—quiet, low-key, not a trace of the usual high-gloss life he’d always associated with wealth. He’d seen people obsess over money, hover around him just because of it, make a whole lifestyle out of it. But her? She was the woman who insisted on bringing packed lunches to work, who chose thrift shops over boutiques, who still wore her decade-old watch without a second thought. She was content. Comfortable. But this…

"That’s…a lot of ‘enough,’" he said, pointing at the screen, unable to mask the amazement in his voice.

She just shrugged and closed her laptop, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "I guess I don’t really talk about it, huh? Not exactly first-date conversation."

He leaned back against the table, watching her with a strange mix of awe and curiosity. "Not even, like, fourth-date conversation."

"To be fair, I didn’t ask what you make, either," she pointed out, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Money’s not really…our thing."

He felt a laugh bubble up in his chest. She was right, and yet, here he was, dumbfounded. She’d been living in his world all this time, never asking him for anything, never trying to claim any part of the lavish life he could provide. Now, he realised, maybe she didn’t need it at all.

"So…why not mention it?" he asked, still trying to understand. "I mean, I just assumed…" He trailed off, feeling a little sheepish.

"I know," she said, her smile turning gentle. "I guess I liked that you assumed. It made things easier. It let me be just…me. No expectations, no need to fit into any box."

Oscar nodded slowly, taking that in. It made sense, but it still felt surreal. Here was someone who, from the very beginning, hadn’t wanted anything from him other than his time, his company. She wasn’t here for his lifestyle or his status, things he’d been conditioned to believe were a part of every relationship he’d ever have.

He glanced at her laptop again, unable to stop himself from wondering. “So, wait—what exactly do you do? Something like…senior management?” he asked, half-joking, his tone teasing.

Oscar chuckled, shaking his head as the absurdity of it all settled in. He was still trying to wrap his head around the whole idea—his girlfriend, his laid-back, thrift-shop-loving girlfriend, was apparently not only financially secure but really well off.

She raised her eyebrows, a sly smile creeping across her face. “Something like that,” she replied, taking a sip of her tea.

He squinted at her, suspicious. “Oh, come on, don’t leave me hanging. How high up are you, really?”

She glanced away, as if considering her words, and then said it, almost like a casual aside. “I’m the CEO.”

He blinked, the statement hanging in the air like a punchline he hadn’t quite caught. “Wait…CEO? As in, like, the CEO?”

She laughed, shrugging it off like it was nothing. “Just of a mid-sized company, Oscar. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Darling,” he said slowly, realising dawning. “What company?”

She paused, her eyes darting away, and he could see the hint of mischief there. “Ever heard of Catalyst?”

“Catalyst…wait, as in Catalyst Dynamics?” he asked, his voice growing louder with shock. “The same Catalyst Dynamics that sponsors my team?”

She pressed her lips together, trying—and failing—not to smile. “Do they?”

“Oh, you are kidding me!” he exclaimed, grinning in disbelief. “You’ve been secretly spoiling me this whole time!”

She shook her head, looking away as though he’d accused her of something scandalous. “Oscar, it’s a sponsorship, not a…spoiling thing. Besides, that’s business. I keep it separate from…this.” She gestured between the two of them, clearly trying to play it cool.

But Oscar wasn’t buying it, not for a second. “Oh, no you don’t.” Before she could say another word, he leaned down, scooping her up and carrying her toward the sofa.

“Oscar!” she yelped, laughing, half-protesting, but she didn’t resist.

He set her down on the cushions, pinning her playfully as he hovered above her, grinning with that spark of mischief that usually only showed up on race day. “You’ve been keeping this a secret, haven’t you? The big boss lady, looking out for me, pretending you’re just this regular 9-to-5 woman…”

“Oscar, I’m not spoiling—”

“Oh, we’ll see about that.” He grinned wider, fingers finding her sides as he started tickling her, his hands relentless. She burst into laughter, twisting and squirming, but he didn’t let up.

“Okay, okay!” she managed between laughs, her breath coming in gasps as he kept up his assault. “I admit it, I admit it!”

“Admit what?” he asked, pausing, a playful gleam in his eyes as he waited for her to say it.

“Fine!” She was breathless, cheeks flushed from laughter. “Maybe I had a tiny bit of a hand in sponsoring your team, maybe. But it wasn’t to spoil you! It was just…good business.”

He chuckled, finally letting up, settling beside her on the sofa. “Good business, huh?”

She took a deep breath, still smiling as she nudged him. “I mean it. I didn’t want you to feel any pressure…or obligation. This—us—is different.”

Oscar looked at her, his heart feeling fuller than he’d expected. “Different is right.” He slipped an arm around her, pulling her close. “Guess I’m just lucky to be dating a CEO with a secret soft spot.”

She laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder, content. “And I guess I’m lucky to be with someone who never needed me to be anything but…me.”

As they settled into a comfortable silence, Oscar’s mind was still spinning, pieces clicking into place one by one. He glanced around their beautiful apartment—the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sleek, minimalist design. The place had always felt like an oasis, calm and understated, like Anna herself. But something new was nagging at him now.

“Wait…” He looked down at her, narrowing his eyes. “That’s why you won’t let me pay rent, isn’t it? You said this place was your dad’s, but it’s not, is it?”

She bit her lip, trying not to smile, but the faintest hint of a smirk gave her away. “Well…okay, maybe it wasn’t technically my dad’s. He…may not have anything to do with it.”

“Sweetheart!” he said, laughing as he sat up, staring at her in mock betrayal. “So you’ve just been letting me think I’m staying at this family-owned place when all this time you’re the one paying for it?”

She shrugged, looking at him with playful innocence. “It’s already been paid for. Besides,” she added, her smile widening, “I like the idea of you feeling at home here without any pressure.”

“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m onto you now. You may be this relaxed, low-key CEO, but you’ve secretly been spoiling me this entire time. Admit it!”

She laughed, a bright, carefree sound. “Fine, I admit it—I may have bought this place. Technically. But it’s still your home, too.”

Oscar pulled her close again, marvelling at how effortlessly she balanced everything—her high-powered job, their quiet, easygoing life together, her uncanny ability to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world. “You know what?” he murmured, looking into her eyes. “I don’t care if you own half of Monaco. You’re still my love.”

She grinned, leaning her forehead against his. “Good,” she whispered. “Because you’re stuck with me.”

They stayed like that for a moment, her nestled into him, the quiet warmth of the room settling around them. But Oscar couldn’t resist one more question, the thought gnawing at him.

He tilted her chin up to meet his gaze, a smirk playing on his lips. “Alright, one last thing, Miss CEO.” He paused, eyes twinkling. “Is your net worth bigger than mine?”

She tried to stifle a laugh, her eyes darting away as if avoiding the answer itself. “Oscar…”

He gasped, leaning back in exaggerated shock. “Oh my god, it is, isn’t it? You’ve got me beat!”

“I’m not answering that,” she said, biting back a smile as she pressed her lips together stubbornly.

“You don’t need to,” he replied, grinning even wider. “The silence says it all. Here I thought I was the big shot, and my girlfriend’s out here just quietly sitting on an empire.”

She laughed, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Well, maybe I just like watching you think you’re the fancy one.”

He pulled her close again, laughing softly. “Alright, fine. But don’t think I won’t bring this up anytime you try to sneak the bill.”

She grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Deal.”

Oscar chuckled, still shaking his head in disbelief. He leaned back, looking up at the ceiling as if he’d just pieced together some incredible mystery. “You know, our kid is going to be spoiled,” he said, the words slipping out with a grin.

He felt her shift beside him, and when he looked down, her expression had softened, her eyes faraway, a little spark of excitement in them. “They won’t,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Humble start, just like we both had.”

“Oh, so you’ll be the strict parent, then?” he teased, arching an eyebrow. “The one laying down the law?”

She laughed, giving him a gentle shove. “So I’m the bad cop?”

“Absolutely. I’m not budging on this.” He grinned, taking her hands in his as he leaned in close. “You’ve been lying to me for four years about practically everything. I think that officially makes you the bad cop in this relationship.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face was warm, even a little shy. “Fine, I’ll take ‘bad cop’… but only if you’re ready to be the softie who gives in.”

Oscar laughed, wrapping his arms around her, feeling that sense of joy settle in even deeper. “Deal, I was already planning on it” he whispered, his voice full of promise. And as he held her close, he realised he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Oscar pulled her even closer, his hands resting gently on her cheeks as he took in the warmth of her gaze, her face illuminated softly in the low light. The playful edge between them softened into something deeper, and the laughter faded into quiet, shared breath.

Slowly, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a soft, lingering kiss that held all the words they hadn’t said. Her hands slid up to his shoulders, fingers curling there as she melted into him, and for a moment, everything—the teasing, the surprises, the whole world around them—faded away.

the end.

Make the most of the next two months

Get all your vaccines

Travel while we have a functioning DOT

Read and buy books on feminism, anti-racism, pro-lgbt

Attend drag shows

Don't skip any of your classes

Read and buy history books

Find your out-of-state networks

Learn to carry cash

Get birth control solutions

Support the Biden/Harris administration

Postpone large purchases and save money

Be careful of what you say online, like un-ambiguous attacks against the incoming administration, especially in spaces that contain your full name or personal information

Feel free to add on.

okay but promiscuous! bubblegum bitch! student reader that’s trying to get one over on dilf! professor! Chris so while she’s meeting w him about school work during both lunch periods, he catches some runny pasta sauce from her mouth and instead of allowing him to clean it with his napkin, she just pops his thumb right in her mouth and sucks. full eye contact, innocent looking, running her tongue in circles around the digit, before kissing it when she’s done. yeah... he’s done for.

Ѽ spooktober day 6 Ѽ

this thought now lives rent free in my head...genie you genius

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: heavy daddy kink, age-gap

strutting into his office, skirt short and button of your blouse undone as you kick his door shut with your heel

“hello, professor.” you say, nearly giggling as you make yourself at home on top of his desk as he puts away a few papers he’s been marking

“what’s on the menu today?” he asks with a smirk, folding his thick arms over his chest as you pop off the container of your tupperware

“leftover pasta.” you answer, digging in as chris chuckles to himself

it’s become a routine for you to barge into his office, pretty much whenever, but you always have lunch with him

chris doesn’t seem to ever mind and you think he enjoy the company of a young and beautiful girl like yourself

it’s almost like a game to you, a sick and twisted one, but you can’t help that you enjoy it so much

chris stands up from his chair, growing to his towering height as he walks around his desk to where you’re sitting on the edge of it

“what’re you looking at?” you question with furrowed brows when you realize he’s been staring at you, trying to conceal a smile

“nothin’, you’ve just got a little...” he trails off, bringing his thumb to the edge of your mouth and swiping at the pasta sauce

“made a bit of a mess.” he adds, his voice lower and your heart is hammering in your chest as he slowly goes to remove his thumb from your mouth

but before he can, your hand wraps around his thick wrist, guiding his thumb into your mouth

gently sucking around his thumb, eyes on his the entire time as you let out a soft moan. his eyes are growing darker as he watches his now wet thumb leave your mouth with a gentle pop

“couldn’t let it go to waste.” you whisper, tone sultry and before you know it chris is standing between your legs with his lips slotted over yours in a needy kiss

“such a fuckin’ tease, you know that?” chris growls, pressing his crotch against yours making you gasp at the contact

“but i bet you wanted daddy’s thumb in your mouth, hmm? why else would you come in here every day, lettin’ me know just how desperate you are, if you didn’t want daddy to fix your little problem?”

you whimper, his hands now cradling your face as your nose bumps his

“oh c’mon baby girl, don’t get shy on me now. i’ve seen that smart mouth of yours at work, tell daddy what you need.” he purrs, beard running across your jaw as his lips pepper kisses along your neck

your skirt has ridden up now, exposing your thighs and slightly damp panties as chris’ fingers dance across your clothed pussy

“i bet you need my fingers. need them buried deep inside of that tight pussy of yours.” he chuckles deeply, watching the way you swallow thickly and nod your head

his fingers skin over the inside of your thigh before he’s snapping the elastic of your panties against your skin. the action making you yelp softly

“say please.” he nearly scolds, holding your jaw between his fingers and running his thumb of your lips

“if you want daddy’s help, you can’t be rude, baby girl.” he reminds you with a faint smirk

“please, d-daddy.” you croak out, throat dry from excitement before his fingers run under your panties and through the hair that covers your mound; finding your clit

he hums contently when he finds how wet you are for him, running his fingers through your folds teasingly

“have you been thinkin’ of me, sweetheart? thinkin’ of ways daddy could make you feel so good?” he cooes, index finger prodding at your aching entrance

“it’s a good thing you’ve been such a good girl, princess. or else daddy wouldn’t give you what you want.” he winks, sliding two fingers into you, stretching you out as you choke out a moan

your fingers are digging into his shoulders and biceps, wrinkling his once neatly smoothed and tucked dress shirt as he slowly fingers you right on top of his desk

“shh, princess. you gotta be quiet for daddy.” he coaxes you, palm bumping your clit gently and it makes shocks of electricity run through your veins

“wanna suck on daddy’s thumb to keep quiet, princess?” he asks, mocking your pout, but not in a mean way; a sympathetic way

you don’t even have to answer before you’re opening your mouth for his thumb, tongue lapping around it, lips puckered, and teeth sinking into it when his fingers graze that sweet spot inside of you

“you’re bein’ so good for daddy, can feel how wet and tight you are.” he whispers, curling his fingers inside of you which makes your eyes roll back

“you wanna cum on daddy’s fingers, princess? show him how good he’s makin’ you feel?” he asks, waiting for the way you nod your head and pant breathlessly

you feel the coil starting to slowly undo, tightness building before snapping suddenly

“that’s a good girl, cumming all over my fingers with daddy’s thumb stuffed in your mouth.” he nearly growls, feeling your walls nearly push his fingers out of your pussy from the force of your orgasm

your head is spinning, jaw slack as his thumb leaves your mouth with a thin trail of saliva before you open your eyes again

he’s kissing you gently before tapping his soaked fingers against your lips

“you gotta clean up daddy now.” he smirks, watching as you do so, humming around his digits

“good girl, you did so good. daddy’s so proud of you.” he praises, kissing your nose and cheeks which makes you giggle

“how about you stay after class tonight so daddy can teach you a few things, how’s that sound princess?”

oh you best believe i’m staying after class professor christopher evans skfkskdksksk

Masterlist

Chris Evans

Imagines

Jealous

Home

Lightweight

Blue-Eyed Man

Mistletoe

Old Man

 Sebastian Stan

Imagines

Something New

Feel You

Baby

Series

was it even real? *completed*

chapter one

chapter two 

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

wrong direction: interlude *completed*

*sequel to was it even real?*

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

back to you: *continuation of wrong direction!*

prologue

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

Harry Styles

Imagines

Brit Awards

Quarantine

 Series:

Falling:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Lover.

Mob!Reader x Innocent!Seb

A continuation of this headcanon because you guys liked it a lot :) 

Run-through: Despite being a badass mob boss yourself, you ended up falling for the lover - not the fighter… 

Themes: fluff, smut, innocent!seb

Perhaps after your first night together, things changed for the better between you and your nerdy lover boy, Sebastian. 

You two were poles apart, but you fit so perfectly together

Keep reading

Reblog if you've found friendship because of your fandoms.

(X)