#I would max pot you again and again and again

[mv1simp]

Kiss It Better ♥️

Max Verstappen x Friends w Benefits! Reader

no one else gonna get it like that, so why argue? You here, here to take it all back (kiss, kiss it better baby)

Work’s got you stressed. Lately, you’ve been ignoring friend’s messages, coming home late and haven’t had a home cooked meal in weeks. Max decides that as your friend, he needs to intervene and look after you…by taking your mind completely off work and completely onto him, instead. Turns out he's as good at it as winning F1 championships.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, friends to lovers, overworked girlboss! Reader basically gets overstimulated by Max hehe, dom/sub, size kink, praise kink, light bondage, choking, degradation kink, all the good stuff, WC 2.8k

Easy chatter buzzed in your cozy apartment as your group of friends finished up the lively dinner and drinks you’d hosted tonight. It’s so good to see you, Maya sighed, slumping back in her chair and patting her food baby. I’ve missed your pistachio tiramisu dearly.

You laugh at her satisfied expression, and others in the group chimed in about how tasty your dessert had been and how it's been ages since you had been free to catch up. You waved them off with an apologetic I know, I know, explaining that work had been so much more hectic the past couple months. You worked as an advisor in the financial sector for Redbull Inc, a very prolific job that's led you to meet many of their star athletes. That included Max, who’d become one of your good friends and intently watches you talk now, his handsome face resting against his hand. You didn’t want to bring the vibe down of the dinner party, so you brush off your friend’s concern with a joke that it was hard work finding investors to fund Max’s millionaire contract, after all.

You’re met with laughter, and the conversation slips into light teasing that you needed better stress management techniques. Maybe finally time to get on Tinder and get yourself railed by a hot Monaco tourist? Can personally recommend that as great relief. Emily, another friend proposed with a wink, earning more giggles. You roll your eyes fondly, biting back that you’re sure most guys on Tinder wouldn’t even be able to find the clit, it would just make you even more wound up. Mock groans rise up from the boys sitting at the table, while the girls enthusiastically cheer their agreement. As your gaze flits around the room, your eyes shining with happiness for the first time in weeks, you can't help but catch Max's pretty blue eyes again - focused on you intently.

You brush it off, not thinking too much of it as the dinner party winds down and your friends start filtering out. You turn down their offers to help clean up, saying your housekeeper would be by tomorrow to sort it. You almost get a heart attack later once everyone leaves, as you begin humming along to your Spotify playlist and beginning to wash the dishes - only to hear a gentle clink as someone sets the wine glasses down next to you. Jesus Christ, Max! you exclaim, hand to your chest. You scared me!

He raises an accusing eyebrow at you. I knew it. You don't have a housekeeper, do you? Despite your numerous protests, he insists on staying to help you. How did you know? you ask curiously, conceding defeat. About me not having a housekeeper, I mean. No one else caught onto that. Pretty normal for working professionals in Monaco to have one, after all. Grabbing a teatowel and drying your dishes as you washed them, your friend the F1 millionaire and driver Max Verstappen warms your heart with his surprisingly caring and observant nature. Clearing his throat, he replies that you're way too much of a control freak. There's no way you'd trust a stranger to clean your house. He smirks knowingly when you splutter, feeling mildly insulted and hitting him with a There's no way you're accusing me of being a control freak. Have you met yourself? That's like the pot calling the kettle black! He swats you with the teatowel, rolling his eyes, but he's laughing at your accurate remark. Later, once your apartment is in sparkling condition, you and Max enjoy a late night glass of sweet wine out on your balcony. You've been talking for a while about silly topics, currently ranting about some random relationship drama of a friend when Max cuts you off, his mind clearly on something else.

I think the others were onto something, you know, he starts, low Dutch voice making you feel warm in the cool night air. At your confused expression, he continues. You've been really stressed lately. I've barely seen you around at padel or online streams these past two months. And you've lost weight, your apartment was messy which it never is, and the other week my accountant got emails from you at 3am...plus you haven't gotten your nails done, which is weird because you're always the group chat every two weeks what colour you should get.

Your eyes widen at the realisation that Max was paying much more attention to you than you'd thought. You hadn't known he was so perceptive towards your mood, and it made unfamiliar feelings flutter in your stomach. You try to reassure him, half truths that you were fine now, truly, he didn't need to worry! You absolutely didn't want to be a bother to someone as busy as him. Seriously, I'll just download Tinder and let off some steam like Emily suggested, you joke to try and change the dubious expression on his face.

But his next offer blows you out of the water. Suddenly avoiding eye contact for the first time all night, Max's handsome face blushes as he murmurs that he could help you take your mind off things. When you stare at him blankly, not comprehending, he takes a deep breath and fixes that intense gaze back onto you, looking determined. Unwind the tension. Or, rail you good, like Emily said. Like a…friends with benefits situation. And before you start saying how you don’t want to be a bother or whatever - trust me, you aren’t, and I wouldn’t offer to help if I didn’t want to.

You’re flabbergasted, half laughing at the insanity and half gasping in shock. I don’t understand, you say finally. What’s in it for you? This seems like way too much work to just be doing a friend a favour. Max smirks at you, a bit deviously, and although you've seen the expression when he pulls an aggressive move to win a race, you've never seen it directed at you. It sends a shiver running up your spine and an aching need shooting straight in between your thighs. Proving I know how to find the clit, he says rather smugly.

You whack him over the shoulder with a pink throw cushion, rolling your eyes and changing the topic to diffuse the sudden sexual tension. He lets you off the hook as you quickly change conversations, flustered with the sudden interest from Max. But over the next few days you can’t stop thinking about his proposal constantly. You’ve always had a bit of a friend crush on Max - I mean, who wouldn’t? He was a tall, handsome racecar driver with a wicked sense of humour. And a very cute accent that sounded very sexy when he lowered his voice. You wondered what he’d sound like whispering something naughty in your ear, tangled up in his soft bedsheets, his large hands wandering where friend’s hands shouldn’t be-

You abruptly bring yourself back to reality, cheeks going pink at the fantasy you’d gotten carried away with. Over the next week, work gets ridiculously busy again and you find yourself completely absorbed in the same toxic cycle, getting home late and ignoring your friend’s messages. You’re working late one evening, frowning as you glare at your computer screen, thick files scattered across your desk. You’re too distracted to notice that Max is calling your name until a warm hand gently brushes your shoulder. It turns out he’d been in the building to sort out some legal paperwork and had decided to come by and see you. You’re surprised, but he narrows those intense blue eyes at you, saying you’re not looking after yourself again, are you?

Despite your protests that you are (lie), really, you don't need him to help you at all (another lie), he orders delivery from your favourite Italian restaurant and joins you for dinner in your office. Soon you’re laughing, caught in conversation and genuinely enjoying Max’s company until your phone starts ringing. You sigh, remembering the mountain of tasks you still had, and look apologetically at Max. But the handsome blonde is having none of it. He smoothly takes your phone out of your hands and declines the call, making you yelp for it and reach across the desk-

Only to find yourself pulled onto Max’s lap, his strong arms easily wrapping around your smaller waist. Enough, he whispers into your ear, his husky voice just as deep and as sexy as you'd secretly fantasised about. Let me take care of you, please? You look up at him with wide eyes, your back pressed against his muscular chest, as you manage to nod. And oh, does Max take care of you. Your innocent dinner as friends is transformed into a dirty office hook up, as Max's skilled tongue slides into your gasping mouth and his even more skilled fingers slide your tight pencil skirt up and finger you through your panties. And when you've soaked them through, he swipes them to the side and fucks you on his fingers, his impressive strength easily keeping your plush hips pinned firmly against his hardening erection as you buck and writhe helplessly in his lap. And he’s not stopping until you're moaning his name into the deep kisses and having one of the most intense orgasms of your life. Feels good, doesn't it prinses? he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear as he takes in the pretty sight of you blushing and panting in his lap, silk blouse fallen off your shoulders and tight skirt pulled up after you'd falling apart on his fingers. All for him, he thinks with a feeling rather similar to possessiveness unfurling in his chest.

"Good" would be a massive understatement. Once Max proves to you just how effective of a stress management technique this is, you can't stop. He's over at your place after hectic workdays, at first, giving you slow deep kisses as he gets you off on his thick thighs. Any hint of self consciousness you'd had becoming so undone in front of the very attractive athlete dealt with by the praise he showers you with. That’s right, use my thigh baby, you’re doing so good, you're gonna cum all over my jeans for me, okay? His voice sends you spiralling over the edge, letting out teary whines and moans as he coaxes you through another orgasm, letting you fall apart all over again in his arms before putting you back together with dinner and laughter filled conversation in the shower after.

Soon he’s there on the weekends, eating your tiramisu first before spreading your legs wide on the dining table after he'd placed you on it. What did I say about doing work during your weekends, hmm? He says in mock disapproval, gently kissing your aching pussy through your panties before teasingly slapping it. You whine breathlessly, embarrassed to have him in between your legs for the first time, but once again he dampens every insecurity of yours that bubbles up. He eats you out like a man starved, and oh, Max Verstappen definitely knew where to find the clit. Your dark red nails, freshly manicured after he’d taken you to the salon earlier, tug at his soft blonde locks as his talented tongue kisses your sensitive bundle of nerves. He groans against your pussy, the vibrations sending you over the edge and squirting onto his flicking tongue as he smirks up at you. Oh, Max! Max! Right there, please don’t stop-

He’s a little too adept at distracting you. You don’t have any inhibitions about holding back anymore, openly begging for him to make you feel good again and again and again. You’ve become more curious with him, wanting to try new things in the bedroom you’d always wondered about but been to shy to ask for. But with Max, who you trusted as a friend first, and who spoilt you, it was easy to test your boundaries. You make him blush the first time you hold up some toy handcuffs and cutely ask if he could pretty please try them on you? His intense blue eyes darken with desire as he looks down at your pouting face, batting your lashes up at him almost innocently despite your naughty request. You love that Max wants this, wants you, just as much as you want him.

The handcuffs set off the more...dominating side of Max in bed and you're absolutely addicted to it. Soon enough he has you face down ass up in his bed most nights, delicate lace lingerie you'd started wearing under all your classy corporate outfits half ripped, as he roughly pounds into you from behind. You loved when Max used his predatory strength against you, applying just enough to make you dizzy with pleasure but never enough to come anywhere near hurting you. One of the bear paws he calls his hand wraps snugly around your neck, over the sparkly collar you’re wearing, and the other one smacks your bouncing ass red, using all the power of a high performance athlete who worked out daily. You're sobbing and screaming his name into the mattress, his sheets long ruined from your drool and your mixed cum trailing down your legs. You just love when I completely control you like this, don't you prinses? Max says with a smirk, his tongue licking up your tears as he used his hand on your neck to tilt your crying face towards him. My pretty girl, so needy and stressed, your brain just can't take it anymore right? Need me to take over and fuck you stupid? A rough slap to your ass has you scrambling to answer him, frantically nodding yes, yes Maxie, please take all the tension away, it feels so fucking good-

You can't even lay a hand on him because yours are tied tightly behind your back, well and truly giving all your power to Max. And he uses it to talk you through multiple orgasms, murmuring in your ears as he relentlessly thrusts into you to let go for me, that's right, just like that pretty girl, gonna fuck you so hard you’re only going to be able to think about my cock for the next week. I want to feel that tight pussy cum all over my cock in five, four, three...

Whew, his fans would go batshit crazy if they found out that their celebrity crush does, in fact, talk you through it in bed. You would feel bad about taking up so much of his time, but you’ve started to realise how much stress relief you offer Max, too. Like when he’s had a bad race weekend (rare, but still) and you walk into his apartment, seeing his tense shoulder and frowning face as he continues gaming after grunting out a Hey.

You hmmm, shrugging out of your pretty blouse, lacey bra on display, and making yourself comfortable in between his big, muscular thighs. Stressful day? you ask, leaning down to rest your cheek against him. He glances at you as you teasingly massage his impressive legs, coyly looking up at him as you tease the waistband of his sweats. Wanna fuck my mouth, Maxie?

That certainly got his attention, a lazy grin appearing on his face. Fuck me, I've really made you addicted to my cock, haven't I schat? he says lowly. He loosens his sweats for you, letting you lick his inner thighs teasingly before softly kissing his rapidly hardening cockhead. Large hands tangle in your hair, undoing your elegant twist, as Max guides you all the way down his length. You whine, looking up at him with those sweet doe eyes and choking slightly as you’re still not used to how big every part of Max is. And somehow you still look so fucking innocent, despite your drooling lips wrapped snugly around his cock. His hand possessively tugs at your curls, making your teary eyes roll back as you moan from the rough treatment. Max smirks at the delicious sight of you on your knees for him, clenching your thighs desperately. You wanted this, pretty girl. Wanted to be my obedient slut and have me throatfuck that slutty mouth of yours, right? Should've been careful what you wished for if you couldn't handle it.

He emphasises his filthy words with an initial thrust all the way to the back of your throat, making your breathing hitch as you struggle. Giving you a second to adjust to his full length, he tells you one last promise before he ruins your throat. You’re going to have to cancel all your meetings tomorrow, prinses. There’s no way you’re going to be able to talk after I’m done with you.

_____________________________________________

A/N: AHHHH IM ATTEMPTING TO BE BACK IN BUSINESSS and keep all my pookies fed 🍗 My tactic for getting tf out of my writers block hell is only looking at max edits on tiktok cause everytime I open insta I see another lovey dovey couple max and pregnant gf post and get a fucking jumpscare (I mean obvi happy for them but my delusion….my delusions!!!)

Let me know what you guys think!! I’m cooking up a dark Max who’s talked into being a gym trainer for oh so innocent reader hehe so dark max girlies I gotchu xx send in ur requests!!

[sinning-23]

Backseat Pillow Princess

Hey y'all! I like to call this game, "Guess what I saw and cant stop fucking thinking about?" Take this because I need them both carnally and I'm sure you do too!

Enjoy :D

Warnings: violence, blood, swearing, the reader is annoying and Logan pretends to hate it in a way that seems like he actually does, they should have fucked but uhhh they didn't, lots of tension, pt.2 coming soon hopefully?

PT.2 UP NOW

"Bae i love youuu, you my everythinggg~"

"Can she shut the fuck up"

"I'm your main bitchhhh, fuck a wedding ringggg~"

"Only if you ask her nicely,"

"Nah, I like when he's mean."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me"

The nonstop back-and-forth bickering had been going on for about 2 and a half hours now and the man the myth the legend, Wolverine was getting dangerously tired of it, unfortunately. Your shitty renditions of Sexyy Red matched with Deadpools incessant yapping was becoming too much to bear.

But little did he know, that was exactly your plan.

"Are we there yetttt" You whine from the backseat, sprawled out with your arm over your face.

It had been what felt like days (despite it only being a couple hours as previously mentioned) you'd been driving and the fact that you were in a small space filled with touch-starved testosterone(Wade and Logan) wasn't helping your case.

"If you shut up it'll go faster," Logan grumbles, Wade's chatting only worsening.

"No, it won't, you're just being mean! What's a sexy, super talented, immortal.. sorta, girl like myself supposed to do?" You whine again, an idea soon popping into your head.

If there was anything you loved more than seeing how far you could push this crotchety son of a bitch, it was stirring the pot.

Knowing the idiot riding passenger, a slip-up was inevitable and all it would take was the right pressure applied from yours truly.

"Hey Wade, wanna ask Wolvie what he's gonna do when he gets back? To his own timeline that is." You hum, resting your elbows on the middle console and your chin in your palms.

Ah yes, the fantasy your sick little brain conjured up was almost to fruition. All they needed were a few nudges and you'd all be at each other's throats with as much violent, sexual tension you could dream of.

"Yeah, what will you do if the TVA can fix your timeline?"

Bingo

You lean back, preparing for the absolute bloodbath that's bound to take place as the tension skyrockets.

Now up until this point, you'd be trying your damndest to get into Wolverine's pants, call it 'something you needed to scratch off your bucket list'. Anyway, from the "Mad Max"(as Wade put it) esque part of the void all the way here, you made your fair share of passes.

Unfortunately, all were shot down with a snark comment, the unsheathing of those gorgeous adamantium claws, or a growl...all of which only further fueled your desire. What could you say you liked a challenge?

"What did you say?"

You lean forward, making eye contact with Wade, his head shaking as if to say "No don't don't don't" but you were never good with social cues.

"He said 'IF' sweetheart." You retort, practically kicking your feet as the look in Logan's eyes grows wild, that growl barely bubbling in his throat as he and Wade converse back and forth.

"You shut the fuck up." He seethes, though directed at you his eyes stay focused on Wade.

You fight the urge to say 'make me" but you soon become quiet when Logan really starts to read your buddy in red. Oh, this fucker was definitely projecting...

"And you," He's got an accusatory, gloved finger pointing at the center of your face.

"You got some unresolved daddy issues or something? I don't know what hole or holes you're trying to fill but I can sure as shit tell you the harder you try to get under my skin the more it makes me wanna rip yours off that pretty-looking face." He growls, your heart practically beating out of your chest.

"Now I suggest each of you shut your goddamn mouths until we are where we need to be."

It's silent for a second again and you can feel the bridge about to break...anyyy second now.

"I'm gonna fight you now."

Three...

Logan chuckles, amused at the fact that Wade would even suggest he could getaway with something like that

Two..

And mid-sentence, Wade's fists make contact with Logan's nose.

One.

You scoot back, the car shaking as Wades head makes contact with hr car door and then the radio, each smack of his skull changing the station.

“Omg nooo don’t kill each other you’re both so hot and sexy and cool, nooo.” You yelp, your false concerned pleas falling on deaf ears.

And once the blood from each blow splatters against your face, you feel a bit opted to join in. Besides, he hurt your feelings, he deserved a little ass-kicking.

Question, when three seemingly frustrated and regenerative assholes get into a car fight with tensions, sexual or otherwise, that have been building for about 2 days now, what happens?

You slip past the pair of claws that just barely nick your side as you shove the driver's seat forward, effectively trapping Logan for a moment.

"You did this on purpose! You honry fuck!" Wade shouts, using his elbow to crack your skull and shoved you right back into your spot behind them before you can respond. Logan pushed the seat back again, now trapping you as his claws stabbed through the cushion, impalling you through the back of the seat.

"FUCK! This isn't how this was supposed to pan out in my head!" You yelp, gasping when the claws leave you feeling the worst kind of empty.

"I didn't even do anything he's the one that lied!" You seethe, using the heel of your boot to kick Wade's side in, the crack of bones bringing you much satisfaction.

"IT WAS AN EDUCATED WISH!" He defends, unloading about 3 bullets into your sternum before kicking Logan out the winsheild, glass falling inside and out.

You take a gulp of air, digging the bullet out before locking your arm around Wade's neck and the passenger seat headrest.

"You red-clad cunt! I was supposed to rizz him up, fuck him, and ride off into the sunset with my rugged fucking mountain of a man and you RUINED IT!" You shout, releasing Wade when six separate knives dig right back into you.

Taking the chance, you throw the back of your head at his face before pulling his claws from out your sides and kicking Wade's chest in. Looks like legs were your strong suit today!

"You said you didn't wanna fill any holes, yet here we are!" You growl in frustration, turning back around to shove your boot heel into this man's rock-hard chest.

He only grabs your ankle, pulling you forward, once again skewered by his claws. Your position is less than ideal, any other angle would for sure look l like you were on the receiving end of some damn good strokes.

And there it is, that stupid bloodied grin he gives while he watches your eyes squeeze shut and your head tilt back. A light, yet pained swear left your bloodied lips and the gasp that leaves your lungs when his claws retracted was just as erotic as you'd imagine.

"Would've been better off fucking at this point huh?" You joke, seeing Wade creep up behind the backseat door.

"Maybe." He responds a bit coy, the tension only dying down for a fraction of a second before you're at each other's throats again.

With your help, Wade is right back in the car, and the three of you are now waiting for the next move. Logan's up against the dash, Wade is heaving against the backseat by your side, the two of you manspreading with a dangerously hungry look directed at the man in yellow.

"This is pointless. We're gonna be here for hours regenerating and fucking each other up, but damn if it isn't fun." you chuckle, letting your head lull back against the completely destroyed headrest.

"So what do you suggest, 'sweetheart'," Logan growls, using your little pet name from earlier.

"Oh I think you know very well what I suggest, but I'm starting to believe you just can get it up can you peepaw?" You insult, Logan's face contorting in a sneer.

There's another silence, your gaze locked with Logan's as you both teeter on the edge of regular frustration and the urge to rip each other's clothes off. This fuckers love language was definitely acts of playful violence...if playful meant an absolute bloodbath in this stupid-ass honda odyssey.

"I feel like there's some underlying tension here that I definitely wanna be a part of.

"You shut the fuck up" You speak simultaneously, Wade doing just that.

"So what'll it be, bub. Fuck me or fight me?" You mock, seeing that smile right back on his face.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You would like to say that the remainder of the day, into the night, all the way into the wee hours of the morning were spent furiously love-making in the bloody and battered Honda, but that would only be half the truth.

The moonlight had shone so brightly down on the three of you, each movement calculated, as you continued to punch, stab, pick and damn near fuck each other in the enclosed space.

At one point your hands were pinned to the dented dashboard, Logan slotted between your legs, Wade right behind your oddly bent body....accept Wade's gun was at the small of your back and Logan had his hand wrapped tightly around your throat as your legs squeezed as tight as possible.

And at another, you'd been hovering above Logan, hands at his chest while Wade had a fistful of your hair, his grip lethal... a-although your hands were only at his chest cause you were double-fisting two knives that you had wedged to the hilt into each to his pectorals...and Wade was also pulling your hair to get a better angle at your chest since he deemed it was "only fair" considering you were going the same to the man beneath you.

It had only gotten worse, your comments ranging from rude to just plain nasty, and the farther along you went in the night....strangely enough, the better everything felt. The slight accidental/intentional grind of your hips against Logans, or the way you just so happened to fall back into Wade's chest, your bodies pressed so close together you could feel each breath you both took.

"Oh you just don't know when to quit, do you honey?" Logan grumbles, throwing you off him, your positions quickly switch.

"Not in my vocabulary sweetheart." You shoot back, gasping when Wade grips your hair again.

"Yeah, thought you were seeing the pattern ready peanut, she's hard to break." He chuckles, a filthy smile making its way over your bloodied face.

You were practically sandwiched, Wade behind you, his chest to your back, and your legs just barely make room for Logan who was kneeling one leg on the backseat, the other slightly off the edge.

"This is a little unfair don't you think? Feels like I'm about to get tag-teamed." You joke, the moonlight illuminating the current position just enough.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? You're sick." Logan scoffs, only feeding into your slight delusions.

"Yeah, I might be sick but you're a hypocrite, You want it too, don't you? I know for sure Wade does, 'cause that's definitely not his gun on my ass." You shoot back, body and brain stirring from the hours of activities.

He doesn't say anything, just tightens he grip he has on your hips.

“Cmonnn, we had our nice,” you glance over at the destroyed radio, your hopes of trying to get the time seemingly crushed.

“We’ll say 9 hours give or take, we’ve already been fighting and none of us are really satisfied.”

You can feel Wade adjust, his hands now secure at your shoulders, massaging the small of your neck with his thumbs.

“We all know what’s gonna solve that and we can put this whole debacle behind us.” You coax, your hips rolling a bit to meet his and he turn his head, jaw working as if he was seriously considering the offer.

And with a finally huff what really sounded more like a growl of last restrained, he’s on you.

——————————————————————-

YES IM MAKING A PART TWO YES THERE WILL BE SMUT BECAUSE WTF YALL. UHHH HOPE YOU ENJOY LMK IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED I. THE NEXT PART!

[eccentricwritingbaby]

yes, and?

lando norris x reader

summary - you’re famous, he’s famous - your new relationship is out for criticism with the world to see. neither of you care. loose basis on ‘yes, and?’ by ariana grande. 

masterlist

-

the nightclub was hot, sweaty, and loud as you followed your boyfriend inside. his broad frame was your only view as he proceeded lightly pushing through the crowd in order to get to your reserved area holding your shared friends. his hand tightened in yours while bypassing through tight spaces and yours in his when odd people here and there got too close. his protective nature always had you tingly and warm, especially as his eyes would turn ever so often over his shoulder in order to check on you. the short eye contact that was shared also highlighted a smile from you both, an unspoken identifier of gentle comfort. 

when reaching your shared group of friends in the vip section, your hands briefly separate for greetings and ‘hello’s’ as you pass through to the seating. his hand then finds yours again, just as it always does, and he pulls you towards him. 

flashes are constantly seen when you both are out, separately and together, therefore having phones shoved around you both or in your direction is normal. both yours and lando’s manager had emphasized that pda would bring more criticism towards your relationship, but you both were so far off the deep end into your honeymoon phase you didn’t care.

lando’s fans didn’t like you because they believed they had a chance with him. or they preferred his exes. or they thought you were the reason he keeps not winning. your fans didn’t like lando because they liked your ex. or they believed you could do better. or they loved your single era.

either way, neither of your fans enjoyed the fresh relationship, but you and lando sure as hell did. you first met out at a club as he was in the dj booth and you were in your vip area. locked eyes and the rest was history. you left the club that night together, woke up in the same bed the next morning, and the internet caught it all. not that either of you minded, you were actually glad you didn’t have to go through the hoops of soft-launches and hiding from the public. within the next week you had joined lando for a race weekend and only stirred the pot further.

lando’s hand tugged you over to where max and pietra were sitting down on the couches. you said your hello’s and took a seat next to p, furthering your discussions. 

lando lightly touches your shoulder in order to steal your attention, “sorry, love, i’m getting a drink, what’ll you have?” you give him your order and he taps his lips to your forehead as max and him begin to make their way to the bar. 

“and how are you feeling, y/n?” p asks you. you raise your eyebrows at her question in order for her to expand as she adds on, “you know, the media and all,” she gestures with her hands to your surroundings, the plethora of people holding their phones onto either you or lando.

“oh that,” you shake off your confusion with laughter, “ya, i pay no mind to all that, having been in the public for a while or so now, i’m used to it by now,”

“right, i just hope it’s not affecting your relationship with lando, you know?” p offers to you with a genuine smile in concern.

“it won’t, we both don’t mind, it happened with his ex and mine, the main difference now is that we both don’t care and are used to it,” you shrug and make eye contact with your boyfriend and his friend approaching both you and p with your drinks. lando drops down into the seat next to you, as max takes the seat next to p and across from his best friend. 

“thank you, love” you speak quietly to him, he hums in acceptance as he places his lips against your cheek.

“you’re welcome, baby, anytime,” you giggle at his response and he throws an arm over the back of your seat. you both thrived in your own little world, you were not planning on leaving each other or the honeymoon stage anytime soon, to hell with the public and media. 

after a while at the club - lando heading over to hijack the dj booth, you and your girls having the time of your lives on the dance floor - your boyfriend saw your eyes drooping a bit lower than normal and he knew it was time for you both to head out. he made his way over to where you were swaying with your girls and gently tugged on your upper arm, pulling you into him. you stumbled a bit back into him but he held you upright, as he always does. 

“c’mon, love,” he bends down to whisper into your ear, “let’s go home,” you smile up at him as he grabs your hand, beginning to make your goodbye’s and heading for the door. 

lando had stopped drinking an hour or so ago, knowing he would drive you two back to his home. you, on the other hand, had a few. not enough where you were a mess, but enough where your brain and mouth were no longer connected and you easily said whatever came to mind. lando found your drunken honesty to be adorable, your manager and publicist hated it. it had gotten you into a few tabloids and made you topics of talk shows, but nothing major - all sort of hilarious in your opinion. your fans called it iconic, and you might believe it to be too. 

“you ready?” lando turns around to ask you as you’ve reached the door. you peer quickly around his frame to see the paparazzi flooded at the entrance to the club. 

one deep breath in and you nod at your boyfriend, him assuring you quickly with a brief kiss to your lips and a whispered ‘stay close’ as he holds your hand tighter to himself, pushing the door open subjecting you to the wide array of flashing lights. 

“LANDO! OVER HERE!”

“Y/N Y/L/N HERE! GIVE US A SMILE!”

the paparazzi had been calling out to either of you as you both continued your walk to lando’s car and away from the club. you were a bit giggly at their questions and felt the need to say at least something to the group. as if lando could feel it, his head whipped back to check on you and it shook with a slight implication of ‘don’t do it’. you just gave him a wide smile in return. 

“Y/N! Y/N! WHAT IS YOUR RESPONSE TO FANS CALLING YOUR RELATIONSHIP A PR STUNT?!” 

you laugh at the question and turn around, “IT’S NOT!” you yell back with a giggle. the paparazzi surrounding you all laugh as well at your response. you continue to walk backwards facing the group, inviting them to keep following and asking.

“HOW DO YOU RESPOND TO PEOPLE SAYING YOU MOVED ON TOO FAST?!” another man with a camera yells towards you. 

“I DIDN’T! I LOVE HIM!” you shout back with another echo of laughs, lando looks down at you with amusement as he pulls you closer to him and opens the passenger side door of his car for you. he leads you into the car and the paparazzi still swarms around. 

“YOU LOVE A NO WINS RACE CAR DRIVER?” a pap asks quickly as lando is beginning to shut your door. 

you roll the window down and look into the man’s eye, “yes, and?”

your business is yours and mine is mine, why do you care so much whose d*ck i ride?

[lnfours]

ruin the friendship | l.n

summary: i’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not but i was wondering if you would ever consider doing a fwb/roommates fic for lando like the one you did for tom? i absolutely love your writings!! -> yes anon, my requests for lando are open :))) also i listened to ‘don’t ’ by bryson tiller while writing this so feel free to listen to it while you read <3

warnings: friends with benefits!! language, sexual tension u can cut with a knife, neck kisses, nothing too crazy, jealous roommate lando 🫣

masterlist | ask box 💌 | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

you stood in the kitchen, stirring the pot on the stove as soft music played from the speaker on the counter. you hummed softly, the door closing catching your attention, making you spin around in your socks. the voices entered the kitchen and you smiled at your two roommates.

“mate, you’re crazy,” max laughed, “i don’t understand how you did that.”

“because i’m a great golfer, that’s how,” lando said, putting his phone on the island as he pulled a stool out to sit, “how was your day, y/n?”

you turned back to the stove, “it was alright, i guess. got some work done, went to the store, the usual. not nearly as exciting as you two’s day it sounds.”

max smiled, patting lando’s shoulder, “mans was a beast on the green today, should’ve been there,” you shook your head with a smile, thinking about the last time the three of you were on a golf course.

let’s just say, drunk people shouldn’t drive golf karts. max continued, “oh, how was your date the other night?”

lando’s ears perked up, his head snapping away from his phone. you grabbed the pot with the oven mitts, pouring the spaghetti into the strainer, “it was alright, nothing special.”

“you went on a date?” lando didn’t mean it the way it came out. you looked over your shoulder at him, “with who?”

“some guy who was all over her the other night at the club,” max said, “was it not good?”

“he’s kind of a douche,” you said, bringing the spaghetti back to the pot and adding the sauce, “didn’t have a good time.”

“sorry to hear that, y/n,” max said before standing up, “‘mgonna go shower.”

you and lando nodded, his eyes going back to watch you as you fixed dinner. you met his eyes, “you have a staring problem, norris.”

“you didn’t tell me you were going to go on a date with that guy.” he said. you dropped the spoon in the pot, reaching up to grab plates for everyone.

“didn’t know i had to tell you all of a sudden.” you shrugged. he stood from his seat, walking over to you. you backed up against the counter, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as he placed his hands on the counter, basically trapping you between the counter and him. he had a slight sunburn on his nose from being in the sun all afternoon, his sunglasses were still pushing back his curls, and his eyes were damn near mesmerizing.

“suppose you don’t,” he said, “did he bring you flowers at least?”

you shook your head and he clicked his tongue, reaching behind you for a plate, “that’s a shame. i would’ve brought your favorite.”

“do you even know my favorite?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed as he turned around to the stove. he put his plate down on the counter next to you.

“of course i do,” he said, “your favorite flower is a sunflower, and if im not mistaken you have a tattoo of a sunflower right…” he trailed off, lifting up the edge of your hoodie and pointing to your hip, “here.”

his finger touched the exact spot the tattoo was, his touch burning through the fabric of your sweatpants. his smirked as you met his eyes again, grabbing his plate as he moved back to the other side of the island. of course he knew where it was, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before. he knew all the ins and outs of your body at this point.

“dinner smells good,” max said as he reappeared, in a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as you tried to regain your composure, “you alright? look like you just ran a marathon.”

you nodded, grabbing your own dinner, “i’m good.”

he nodded but still gave you a look. after dinner, max went to go stream but lando stayed back to help you clean up. you were washing dishes as he placed them in the sink. once all of them were collected, he wrapped his arms around your middle. you leaned back slightly, tilting your head to the side to let him place his head on your shoulder.

“going on dates with other guys when you still fold every time i do this?” he joked and you huffed, laughing softly.

“i don’t fold every time,” you said, “i pick and choose, and i guess today is your lucky day.”

he pressed a gentle kiss to your jaw and you couldn’t help the soft noise that came from your throat, “hmm? don’t fold every time?”

you rolled your eyes, “it’s been a while.”

“too long,” he mumbled against your shoulder.

“i need a shower,” you complained, turning around in his arms.

“me too,” he said, brushing a stray hair from your face, “wanna save some water?”

you laughed, shaking your head, “you shower with the water too cold.”

“you’re the one who likes it boiling hot! it’s a wonder you don’t pass out in there.”

you rolled your eyes, “maybe you’re just dramatic, did you think of that?”

he fake gasped, “me? dramatic? never.”

you nodded, stepping away from him, “keep telling yourself that.”

“seriously, come shower with me,” he grabbed your hips, pulling you back to him. you let out a soft laugh as he pouted, “please.”

you let his lips go to your neck, giving into him the second time today, “no, lan.”

“cmon,” he said, “it’s the least you could do for going on a date behind my back.”

“you were the one who wanted to keep this,” you waved your finger back and forth between your two bodies, “a secret.”

“not anymore,” he said, “i’ve thought about it, let me take you on a date. a proper one. i’ll get you flowers, take you to the restaurant downtown you love that you go to with your friends. i’ll pull all the stops, you deserve it.”

you smiled softly, “only if you promise to wear that black button up shirt you wore last weekend.”

he raised an eyebrow, “you liked that, huh?”

“maybe,” you smirked up at him.

“okay, then you have to wear that red dress you wore on the night out the other night.”

“deal.”

he smiled before lifting you up off your feet. you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck, “where are we going?”

“my bed,” he said, carrying you down the hallway and shutting his bedroom door with his foot, “because now i can’t stop picturing you in that dress.”

“thought you wanted to shower?”

he sat you down on his lap, hands wandering under your hoodie as yours tugged on the hem of his golf shirt, “need you more than a shower right now.”

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Candles and Cuddles | Azriel x Reader

Summary: You take Azriel to get a personal wax mold of your hands intertwined, and after overcoming insecurity, settle into each other’s warm embrace.

Word Count: ~ 1.3k

Warnings: Mentions of past injuries, scars, insecurities, fluff, nothing bad.

A/N: Really liked writing this, hope you enjoy it <3

Requests are open!

You had originally gotten the idea when you’d seen all sorts of cute pictures of couples getting wax molds and melts of them holding hands in a heart shape or fingers interlocked. It was, in your opinion, positively adorable, and so you decided to drag your mate along with you for this particular adventure.

“What, pray tell, are we looking for?”

Azriel’s deep voice, calm and gleaming with curiosity, spoke softly. His head was tilted slightly to the side as you walked excitedly down the bustling streets of Velaris, your soft hand holding his larger, scarred one and pulling him gently along.

The children played in the streets, vendors calling out their prices as some roamed the streets with baskets of fresh products or supplies to try or test, hopefully, to lure in some customers. It was a warm evening, a cool breeze blowing through that lifted the autumn leaves to stir around your feet, only to settle in piles before being further blown away, or gathered into piles as the children jumped into them.

“It’s a surprise, Az, you’ll know when we get there!”

You said, being drawn into the direction of one street corner by the warm light coming from the building, only to find exactly what you were looking for with a quiet sound of triumph.

A small smile graced Azriel’s face as he peered down at you curiously, studying your happy smile and the twinkle in your eyes, one that spoke of joy, and an innocence he would gladly protect with his life.

“You’re going to love this, it’s so cute.”

You said, eagerly entering the store hand in hand with him. He ducked to avoid the top of the doorframe, wings folding in tightly to not disrupt anything inside of the small business. His shadows curiously observed and watched, taking in information on the surroundings on instinct.

There was a small desk at the front with a woman who he assumed was running the main operation, and to the left of it in another open room were pots full of different colored melted max, with a few other people already dipping a dry white base into it to make their own custom candle. It looked..intriguing, he would admit. He was ashamed that he’d never come to see all these small thriving businesses in Velaris.

“Come on!”

You said, bursting at the seams with excitement as you paid the woman up front and eagerly pulled him along to the wax room. He’d been so caught up in thinking he’d missed your entire conversation with the other female. Oops.

He patiently followed along, until you were both standing in front of a blue wax pot, a deep, rich blue like the siphons he had. Blue was a nice color. Maybe even his favorite.

“See? We dip our hands in together, and it makes a wax outline we can keep.”

You explained, beaming up at him. He returned the smile, a warm one spreading across his lips as he intertwined his hand with yours.

“I understand, love.”

He replied, waiting for you to begin moving first before submerging both of their hands in the melted wax, letting it sit a bit before pulling it out and dipping it again, and that went on for a few more layers until both of your hands were covered in a thick layer of blue dried wax, about the consistency of a babybell cheese wrapper.

A worker came over and helped you both get the wax off of your hands, leaving the mold of your hands together before the worker spoke up. It was a male with short brown hair and ghoulish skin, and distinctly Fae eyes in a shade of chocolate brown. Maybe a mix between a ghoul and Fae? The shadows seemed to think so as well.

“We could use the wax mold to make a quick concrete markup?”

He offered, at which you eagerly nodded.

“I’d love that, how long would it take?”

You asked, at which the worker simply waved a hand.

“Not long, only like, five minutes. We got a new concrete mix, the stuff works like magic! I wouldn’t be surprised if there isn’t some sort of enchantment on it…”

The worker went on, before seeming to realize he was rambling and giving a little chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’ll have it ready for you in five, just take a seat somewhere.”

He said, gesturing to some of the seats in the small business area, before walking off to the back room with you and Azriel’s wax mold in hand. You both went and sat down next to each other, and he tried to pull you on his lap. You gave him a look. He only smirked.

“What? Shouldn’t we save space for any other potential weary customers?”

He asked with a playful tone, still smirking, at which you laughed and shook your head in fond exasperation, finally sighing and sliding onto his lap.

A few minutes later, the worker returned, the wax mold gone, but with concrete of you and Azriel’s hands intertwined together. He smiled and gave it to you, and after paying a bit extra for the stone structure.

After walking back home, and a short flight, you triumphantly set the stone structure on your favorite bookshelf in a space with good visibility.

“Don’t you love it?”

You asked Azriel with a happy grin, leaning back into him. He nodded, but when you glanced back at him, you saw a hint of worry and hesitation in his gaze. You turned to face him, wondering what was wrong. Had you done something to upset him? Had the wax made his sensitive, scarred hands start aching?

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

You asked, one hand sliding up to his cheek to move his face so he was looking down at you. He hesitated before speaking. That was odd. He never hesitated much, if ever.

“You don’t think my hand looks a bit…out of place? With all the..scarring against your smooth skin?”

His now tentative and quiet voice asked, eyes studying the structure with a meticulous gaze, picking apart every minor detailing of his winding burn scars the wax mold had picked up, and the contrast of it against your smooth, soft skin. You pulled his gaze back to yours, taking his hands in yours.

“No. Not at all. Your hands are perfect just the way they are, and they look perfect in mine, and they belong there. If you ever start talking about them like that again, I’m revoking hand privileges for a week.”

He raised a brow because of the last statement but seemed a bit comforted by your statement, going to pull his hands away, but you wouldn’t let him, instead going to kiss every inch of his scarred hands until he was a blushing mess, his shadows looking more purple than usual as they crossed and danced around you in an embrace.

“Alright, love.”

He murmured, a small smile gracing his lips as he began gently pulling you towards the bed, a sign that he wanted to go to bed. You laughed softly, relenting as you pulled your bra off from under your loose shirt, tossing it onto the floor as you crawled into bed.

Azriel shimmied out of his leathers and crawled into bed wearing only his boxers, settling under the blankets before wrapping his arms and wings around you in a cocooning embrace, his head in the hollow of your neck, deeply inhaling your scent as he allowed himself to relax.

“Goodnight, Azzie, love you.”

You murmured, already sleepy. He smiled against your skin, shadows dancing before gently settling around you and him, before closing his eyes and replying.

“Goodnight, love.”

[drvscarlett]

Let Him Cook Pt 6

Charles Leclerc x Masterchef! Reader

Let Him Cook Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

A/N: Thank you for that anon who gave me a message for the next part of the series. This one is dedicated for you!

taglist: @bookstore-of-dreams@barcelonaloverf1life@ririyulife@minseok-smaus@mehrmonga@sltwins@charlesgirl16@six-call@spideybv28@casperlikej@weekendlusting@janeholt3 @evie-119@leilanixx @randomgirlnumber-13@itsjustkhaos

Cookies and Grand Prix

Y/NCooks just posted a photo.

Y/NCooks Now that my masterchef duties are done. Its my first time going to a grand prix as Charles' girlfriend. I hope you like cookies

User1 OMG IM GOING TOMORROW!!! OMYGODDDDD

Y/NCooks I'll give you a cookie when I see you! User1 Ohmygod, this is the best. You are the best!

User3 I'm envious of everyone going to Monza this year, Y/N is giving out cookies

User4 The details are everything on those cookies

CarlosSainz55 Im technically a former ferrari driver so can I claim a cookie?

LoganSargeant can i have one too? Y/NCooks this is for everyone!! Make sure to drop by Carlos and Logan! Maxverstappen1 Expect me around! User5 Everybody is a ferrari fan!

"Okay mon amour, so there will be a big crowd when we arrive" Charles briefed you as you get closer to the venue "Make sure to stick close to me."

"Yes honey, I know. Hold your hand and don't let go"

Charles has been extremely stressed and he thinks it might not be a good idea to bring you to Monza for your first GP as a couple. However, you couldn't pass up the opportunity. You have seen how the people cheered for Charles when he won in Monza, the crowd was electrifying. You wonder what will happen if it happens again this weekend.

Besides, you have a basket full of cookies that you prepared to give for those fans of Charles that you will meet.

You were immediately greeted by a huge crowd calling out Charles name. It was no wonder that there was several security guards waiting at Charles' designated parking lot.

It was normal for Charles to stop to take photos and to sign some merch. What surprised the duo was that the fans were asking for Y/N and her cookies.

"We really waited for you guys so we can get some cookies" one of the avid Tifosi said

"I really hope the cookies give ferrari luck"you agreed.

There was a buzz in the paddock as you gave away several more cookies to the different fans you encountered. You managed to give Carlos and Logan since they were also waiting at the parking lot. You were so carried away talking to everyone that you didn't realize that you already ran out of cookies.

"Oh no, I didn't save cookies for your other friends" you concluded upon reaching the garage.

"That's okay mon amour, I'm sure they would understand that there is no more cookies" Charles assured.

And like a comical entrance, a man in full Red Bull gear enters the sea of red uniforms.

"What do you mean no more cookies?" Max asked "I did not just go through all the security details to not have cookies"

"Oops."

Grill the grid: eggs

It was a fairly easy challenge, the media team thought. They believe that there will be no harm to let the drivers cook since its just a simple hard-boiled egg.

There was a stove, a pot, 2 bottles of water, eggs, vinegar, salt, and pepper on the table. They also thought that it will be funny to put unnecessary spices and ingredients on the table so there is grated cheese, spring onions, cinnamon, carrots, and etc..

The drivers entered the room looking confused at the different set up of the Grill the Grid.

"We're giving people what they want, today were actually allowing the drivers to show off their cooking skills with this special episodes of grill the grid"

Charles is obviously happy. He was already raving about how there are different versions of eggs that he tried at home because of Y/N.

"I have already tried doing poached egg, soft-boiled eggs, french omelette, american ones" Charles enumerated "I think I'm the best at making scrambled eggs"

"Its just scrambled"

"There is a technique there" and Charles continued to ramble on the different techniques that he has used to achieve the perfect scrambled eggs.

On the other hand, Oscar is attempting to make a hard boiled egg. He admits to the camera that he did not have any experience of it but he definitely knows how it taste (obviously).

"So Oscar what is your game plan here?"

"Well, I'm planning to boil the water and I think I should add some vinegar and then maybe sugar and salt so the egg will be flavored" Oscar stopped as he heard the giggling on set "Wait am I wrong?"

"No, no, just continue"

"Okay so I think I'm gonna let the eggs cook once the water is rolling then I'm gonna wait for 15-18 minutes because I don't wanna serve raw eggs" Oscar continued.

The staffs are a bit shocked by the length of time. It was beyond overcooked but they wouldn't say anything to the Australian driver.

It cuts to Max who seems to be pretty confident with his skill. Its a simple egg, how hard can it be?

"Of course, we have to get the water boiling and then I'm going to put it in for 5 minutes and then get the egg out" Max explained.

If Oscar has a long waiting time, Max was immediately dropping the egg even before the water is boiling because Max believes that the water is hot to the touch.

"What happened, why is the egg still runny?" Max wondered

He cut off the egg and there was still slimy white and the yolks were uncooked. There was a frown on his face as he looked back at his pot, he thinks he is being sabotaged.

"I'm gonna do it again"

Yuki was excited to do the cooking challenge. He insisted that he will not just make a hard boiled egg but he will also showcase a soft-boiled egg. The staffs were ecstatic to see him running around to get iced water for his eggs.

"I make these weekly so I'm really confident that it will turn out well"Yuki has a permanent grin as he fishes out his soft-boiled egg.

"If you want a soft-boiled egg, boiling water with the bubbles and then 8 minutes on the clock. Then you put it in an ice bath and then peel it" Yuki narrates.

He opens his soft boiled egg and it showcases a jammy yolk and soft whites, the perfect kind of soft-boiled eggs. The studio applauds at Yuki's efforts.

Y/NCooks just posted a photo

Y/NCooks since the episode is out, here is the list of photos sent to me by the crew. Guess which is which.

User2 OHMYGOD, THIS IS SO FUNNY!!!

User3 LOOK AT OSCAR'S REALLY OVERCOOKED EGGS

User6 i was seriously laughing when he said 18 to 20 minutes User7 For real, man thinks he is tenderizing meat

maxverstappen1 i demand a part 2

Charles_Leclerc "its so easy" maxverstappen1 shut up. i have been cooking now kellypiquet p is getting tired of eggs every morning user9 max is really serious to train himself on how to make eggs

User14 I just know that yuki is the one with the best looking egg, so smooth!!!

Y/Ncooks yes!!! User17 charles is the one with the unsmooth peeling Y/NCooks the man can't have it all, i guess

LandoNorris thank God they didn't send you my photo

Y/NCooks lando, i dont think anyone grabbed a photo since the fire department was called CarlosSainz55 you did what???? Charles_Leclerc and they call me as someone who can't cook when we have Lando here being a fire hazard LandoNorris Y/N THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE OUR SECRET User22 atleast team papaya are both needing lessons.

The cookie prank.

Max was still upset that he didn't get to have cookies in Monza. He was really looking forward to it so he wasn't the least suspicious when he allowed Charles inside his home since he brought him cookies.

It was wrong of Max to put down his defenses.

"I'm gonna get some water, you want anything?" Max asked

"No, I'm just gonna get comfortable here with your cats"

Charles stood in front of the cat litter box and he pulled the ziplock bag that he has. Inside the ziplock bag was another set of cookies that looks like cat poops. He laughed quietly as he sets up the scene.

"Max, do you know about that coffee made from poop?" he asked the Dutchman

"Of course, Kopi Luwak" Max replied "Why did you ask?"

Max walked out of the kitchen and he can see clearly how Charles picked up a poop from the litter box. He almost dropped the water that he is holding upon seeing that.

"What if we use cat poop instead" Charles wondered

"CHARLES WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

The pure mortification in Max's face when Charles started eating the poop. It seems like his friend lost his mind after driving in Ferrari for all these years.

"You should try some"

"Y/N, CHARLES IS GOING CRAZY" Max immediately placed you on a call "I THINK HE NEEDS THERAPY"

"Woah slow down Max" you were out on a grocery run and now Max is screaming at your ear

"Hello mon amour"Charles greeted on the other line.

"HE LOST HIS MIND, HE STARTED EATING MY CAT'S POOPS"

You made a mental face palm as you remembered how Charles insisted that you make very realistic cookies that looks like poop. Charles never opened it to you that he will be using it to prank Max. You started laughing at the shock in Max's face.

"Max, those are cookies" you defended

"THEY ARE CAT POOPS, CHARLES LECLERC IS EATING CAT POOPS"

Oh what would you do with these boys.

[landograndprix]

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part v

✧.* you come to realise that your relationship with lando might just be the most serious and mature relationship you've ever had and while that confuses you more and more each day, your taking it all because some people just love to watch the world burn.

✧.* introducing some people, making babes suffer a little less, hating Alpine, you know the drill, its a chill one really 🥰 this is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️

✧.* prev part - next part

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

cecilemoulin posted to their story

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

liked by maxfewtrell, landonorris and 431,657 others

y/nusername oh my days ✨️

tagged: landonorris, maxfewtrell, dashthebeagle

view all 892 comments

f1gurls we've reached peak dog mom, Dash got an Instagram 😭

norrizz waaaaaait y/n's finally gone insta official with lando?!

mclarenbabies it was about time, lando did it nearly two weeks ago 😂

fewtrelllando good to see they've adopted max 🥰

landonorris disgusting

y/nusername you've clearly never looked in a mirror before

landonorris I was talking about the sushi

y/nusername oh..

y/nnorris I love them your honor 😭

landoscar why's dash looking at me like that, why is he judging me? 😭

mrsnorris 🤮 🤮 🤮

landonorris exactly, who would eat sushi?

chilisainz lmfao girl thought she did something

hamilt44n hey girlie, you got lando's attention, speak up 👏

charlie_leclerc I'm changing my mind, they are actually cute together

thomasgoms 😍

y/nloveee we either have a supportive ex-boyfriend or mans completely missed the picture of y/n and lando 💀

norry4 Arianna what are you doing here?

➽────────────────────────❥

cecilemoulin

liked by y/nusername, landonorris and 198,763 others

cecilemoulin spending the 28th with the funniest, prettiest and dumbest ones. ❤️

tagged: y/nusername, landonorris, maxfewtrell

view all 456 comments

girlsofthegird happy birthday Cecile! 😍

carlandooo lmfao milou watching the stories and seeing this post: 🧍‍♀️

george63russell I mean she's been a lil' bitch lately so are we really surprised? 👀

miloubabess she's with her family on a holiday, guess she couldn't make it 🙄

fewtrelllando I don't known about y'all but this smells like a double date!

norrizz HOWLING THE CAKE 😭

y/nlandooo peak y/n behaviour 😭

chilisainz loving this new friend dynamic, always thought Cecile and y/n would be a better match than y/n and milou..

maxfewtrell well..great picture..

cecilemoulin max, don't worry, you are the prettiest!

y/nusername the prettiest princess of them all 🎀

landonorizzzz goddammit, those muppets really do be in love huh

thomasgoms happy birthday Cecile!

y/nluv boy get out of here..🤨

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername posted to their story

➽────────────────────────❥

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803

Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @judespoisons @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @jjsprobablywrong @babyvinnie

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10

[menagerofmischief]

Dia's Diner (closed)

diner is closed for catch up as I have too many unwritten orders, time of return unknown

Welcome to Dia's Diner, here you'll be able to order your meal (fic) with as many specifications and dishes as you want. We hope you leave satisfied ;)

first step is choosing who you want your fic to be about, so pick a server (you can even pick two)

SERVERS:

Max Verstappen

Charles Leclerc

Carlos Sainz Jr.

Lewis Hamilton 

George Russel

Lando Norris

Oscar Piastri

Daniel Riccardo

Alex Albon

Fernando Alonso

Franco Collapinto 

Pierre Gasly

Esteban Ocon

Lance Stroll

Ollie Bearman

Kimi Antonelli

Mick Schumacher

Arthur Leclerc

Sebastian Vettel

Mark Webber

Jenson Button

Nico Rosberg

Toto Wolff

every good meal starts with an appetizer, by choosing your appetizer you're setting the main trope of the fic

STARTERS:

charcuterie board (dating)

artichoke dip (brother’s friend)

olives and cheese (friends to lovers)

stuffed cherry tomatoes (sugar daddy)

hummus nachos (teammates)

shrimp cocktail (rivals to lovers)

and how you want it served

HOT OR COLD: 

hot appetizer (sweet sex) 

cold appetizer (rought sex) 

now it's time to order the main dish, feel free to choose as many as you want

MAINS:

lobster (“I love watching my cum leak out from your pussy”)

caviar and oysters (“Gonna look so good full of my babies”)

fish and chips (“Where are your manners?”)

steak (“Made just for me. My pretty little cocksleeve”)

burger and fries (“Hurts? That’s too bad baby, should have thought about it before being such a slut”)

buffalo wings (“Count them for me”)

ramen (“What would your brother think if he saw us?”)

gyros (“Gonna fill you up”)

full english (“My pretty little slut”)

pizza (“My good girl”)

pesto pasta (“Slow down, you just told me to speed up. What’s it gonna be silly girl?”)

carbonara (“Look so good on my cock”)

sausage rolls (“I’ll make it fit”)

sushi (“Better quiet down, you don’t want them to hear us.)

tacos (“I’m gonna give you an attitude check”)

chicken quesadilla (“So pretty with my cock down your throat”)

crab cakes (“Yeah, gonna swallow like a good girl?”)

chicken nuggets (“Couldn’t help being a brat, could you?”)

kimchi (“Be a good girl and take it”)

tomato soup (“Running away from my dick? I don’t think so.”)

cheese fries (“I love making you squirt”)

stuffed potato (“Just where you belong … on your knees for me”)

sarma (“Gonna put a baby in you”)

moussaka (“You look your best covered in my cum”)

caesar salad (“Lie to me again and you’re not gonna like what happens next”)

chicken skewer (“Be a good girl and cum for me”)

mac and cheese (“Only good girls get to cum”)

mango sticky rice (“Next time you try that shit I’ll make him watch while I fuck you”)

chicken fingers (“Yeah, you like being filled in both ends like a slut”)

butter chicken rice (“If you want it then you better beg for it”)

eggs and bacon ("Are you gonna stop moving or am I gonna hold you down?")

spring rolls ("All you do is complain, perhaps I should shut you up")

sloppy joe ("You have the prettiest mouth. Why don't you put it to good use?")

kebab ("Look at that my cock is splitting you in half")

grilled cheese ("I buy you nice things and then I get to fuck you in them. Sounds fair to me")

pot roast ("You going to let me take my anger out on you, sweetheart?")

chili ("Look at you humping my thigh like a bitch in heat")

california rolls ("Scream my name - I want everyone to know who's making you feel this good)

PB&J ("Look at him while I make you cum")

dumplings ("Ride this cock - it's your cock")

black pudding ("There we good, you're such a good girl, taking you punishment so well")

smoked salmon ("My good girl deserves a reward")

fish tacos ("Just lie back and let me take care of you")

seafood boil ("Maybe I'll make a mix tape of your moans to listen to while I drive")

spaghetti with meatballs ("Why don't you put on that pretty little set I bought for you?")

veggie burger ("Feel how hard you make me")

hot dog ("Thought about you while touching myself. The real things is much better")

ratatouille ("I'll mark you up so much no man will dare talk to you again")

bacon pancakes ("I love when you wear dresses. It's so easy to flip it up and fuck you")

chicken alfredo ("You haven't been very good, have you? And you know what happens to bad girls")

avocado toast ("Look at you all dumb and crying on my cock")

lasagna ("Where did all that cockiness go now that it's time to take your punishment?)

gnocchi ("You like when I treat you like a toy, don't you?)

mashed potatoes and gravy ("You had no problem getting fucked in here like a slut. Then you should have no problem walking out there with my cum dripping down your legs")

having a drink with your dish really elevates the experience, drinks represent different kinks

DRINKS:

ice tea (oral giving/receiving)

sweet tea (morning sex)

mint tea (body worship giving/receiving)

redbull (filming sex)

vodka redbull (squirting)

white claw (pegging)

white wine (sir kink)

red wine (daddy kink)

rose (spanking)

champagne (threesome)

old fashioned (drunk sex)

whiskey (double penetration)

mai thai (mirror sex)

cosmopolitan (temperature play)

beer (bondage)

root beer (blindfold)

apple cider (spitting)

apple juice (edging)

orange juice (overstimulation)

pineapple juice (wax play)

boba (anal)

smoothie (hickeys)

matcha (toys)

vanilla milkshake (nipple play)

hot chocolate (dry humping)

chocolate milk (thigh riding)

espresso (dom/sub)

black coffee (chocking)

mocha coffee (degradation)

pumpkin spice latte (losing virginity)

fanta (size kink)

coca-cola (somnophillia)

coke zero (free use)

pepsi (car sex)

lemonade (public sex)

strawberry lemonade (breeding)

coconut water (jealous sex)

sparkling water (phone sex)

iced water (dirty talk)

to end the night you might consider getting a dessert, in this case dessert is aftercare

DESSERT: 

yes (aftercare included) 

no (aftercare not included)

special instructions: tell me your favorite track/race at the end of your request and I'll throw you in a freebie on the house that goes best with your order

Thank you for visiting! Here at Dia's Diner your pleasure is our priority, so be on the look out for new additions to our menu. Come back again.

A/N: I'm so grateful for each and every one of your requests, but I just ask that you be patient about waiting for it since I don't have much free time because of school.

[formulafics]

max or arthur accidentally exposing his relationship w male! reader. maybe the reader is a a rival 👀

and congrats on ur 1k followers!!!❤️

- 🪽 (can i claim this)

you definitely can claim it! youre my first emoji anon and ily for it. 🫶🏻 i did little headcanons for this one, i hope you enjoy <3 also shoutout to @renarots again because they basically wrote these in our dms LMAO

note: reader isn’t written as arthur’s rival for his hcs

accidents happen | mv¹ and al¹² hcs (male!reader)

✩ . mv¹

without a shadow of a doubt, max would accidentally reveal your relationship during a stream.

you hadn’t known he was streaming, and if you did, you wouldn’t have come in, because even being at his house would be enough to stir up curiosity (esp as rivals)

however, what really stirred the pot would be max covering the camera to kiss you, without even thinking about it. it was instinctive, like he’d done it before, and naturally, his chat would immediately question why he covered the camera

there was no getting out of it after that - clips of the stream would start trending, and that would raise the questions: did max kiss you? and are you dating?

max would quickly own up to it, mostly because he knew he dug that hole for himself. despite the initial chaos of the event, once everything cools down, max is almost happy that your relationship got exposed

✩ . al¹²

you grew up with arthur, so it was already fairly known that you and him were good friends

surprisingly arthur had done a good job keeping your relationship a secret…until a post race interview after a particularly good weekend

the interviewer asked how he’d be celebrating, and in his giddy state, he didn’t even process his words before saying “i’m gonna go out to dinner with my boyfriend and family”

even the interviewer almost missed it with how fast it came out, as well as the fact that it was so unexpected.

of course, the interviewer then questioned arthur, and he figured he already messed things up, so he confirmed that he said “boyfriend”

later that night, hed post a dump of his celebratory dinner, and there you’d be, arm linked with his as he kissed your cheek, emphasizing his words from the interview

general taglist | @renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @minkyungseokie @harrysdimple05 @vroomvroomverstappen @lokietro @spidersophie @topguncultleader @arkhammaid @motorsp0rt @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @stopeatread @piasstrisblog @leclercvsx @cixrosie @vellicora

[overtake]

A soft Maxiel Christmas moment | 2k (also on ao3)

CWS: mpreg and the canonical bodily terror of pregnancy

Daniel stares straight ahead at the faux crackling fireplace, his swollen feet propped as close as he can manage without risking them melting off with residual heat. Outside, there’s no majestic snowfall. It’d started briefly yesterday, and for a single minute, with the world a quiet white blanket outside their frosted windows, he felt a moment of peace and sanity.

It’d gone as quickly as it’d come. The temporary relief of fresh snow quickly faded to grey piles and puddles inside pot holes. They’d had to run to the store for last minute items, and Daniel’s mood had quickly soured with every step of his new boots through the slushy squelch. They were brand new for this season, a size up and wider than his old ones because his feet are too fucking big to wear what he already has, and he needed to pad them out because his ankles hurt constantly.

A warm shiver wracks its way through Daniel’s insides, like a hot fan coil has replaced his spine and is boiling his blood from the inside out. He throws off his wool blanket in frustration and tries to heave himself up. Unfortunately, all that brings him is a loud groan before he collapses back into his spot, suddenly sweating and ready to smash every single item in this stupid fucking house to smithereens once he figures out how to stand up again.

He pants for half a second, then uses his hands to shimmy himself along the couch until he’s as far away from the electric fireplace as he can reasonably manage.

Then, all at once, his body’s internal heater shuts off and leaves him shivering again.

“Oh fuck off,” he groans to his round belly. He doesn’t want to grouch at his unborn baby. There are all these studies about when the baby can hear them and how they react to their parent’s mood. It’s why Max says good morning to it before he helps Daniel out of bed. He’ll reverently kiss the bump three times before he leans up to give Daniel four kisses so, “You don’t think I love you less than I love baby.”

That’s what he calls it, baby. They’ve been in gridlock over the name for three months, and Daniel’s argument that he’s the one carrying the back pain and morning sickness falls on deaf ears because Max absolutely fucking hates his name choices. Maybe Daniel didn’t start off great by intentionally antagonizing him with the boy’s name of Dale and waxing poetic about Dale Earnhardt, but Max gave it right back to him by pretending he’d name a child after his father. Safe to say, pregnancy hasn’t brought out the best in them from time to time.

When they’d clasped hands tightly and watched the pregnancy test develop, both pretending they were doing something more dignified than staring at a cup of piss in Max’s plane toilet, Daniel had pictured pregnancy to be full of beautiful moments, some sort of film montage of kitchen dancing and 3d scans and tiny baby shoes.

He hadn’t been totally naive. Michelle had the worst morning sickness through both her pregnancies, and Victoria did not shy away from complaining about all the cruelties her children unleashed on her digestion, hair, and even her nose. Daniel had panic googled that one and immediately regretted it. The last thing he needed on his face was for his nose to get even bigger.

Max had just laughed when he expressed his concerns and kissed the curve of his nose, reassuring Daniel that he’d want him even if it fell right off.

So he knew there’d be hard parts, but he reassured himself that Max being there and the promise of their family together would be enough.

Instead, he’s awake at 4 a.m. on Christmas because he’s gassy and in too much pain to sleep, and the soft snores he used to love from Max made him want to claw off his ears and tear out his hair. He’s constantly overstimulated. Their cunt doctor kept saying things about how geriatric pregnancies are even harder on the body until Daniel refused to keep seeing him if he said the word geriatric one more fucking time.

Worse still, he was banned from flying home. They’d had a whole plan, with Daniel flying out just before it’d be too late term to make such a trip, so he could be around his family until the season ended and Max could join him back in Australia. He’d have a summer Christmas and let their baby be born in his country before he had to take his little family back to Monaco for the new season. It was planned impeccably.

Then the doctors started heming and hawing at his last scan before he left and told him that flying would be a major risk, especially such a long distance. This time, they were wise enough not to add anything about his age.

So now his whole family and Max’s are in a giant ski cabin, taken away from Monaco and the cats so they could all fit in one home, and Daniel had to sit through a 7 hour car ride that turned into 10 with all his toilet stops.

The worst part of all of this is that Max is so patient with him. He massages Daniel’s feet and knows how to tease him about the swelling without hurting Daniel’s feelings. He rubs stretch mark cream on Daniel’s bump, even though he thinks they’re cool and likes to run his fingers up and down the white marks, because he knows Daniel hates them but is too tired to prioritize putting cream on his stomach every day on top of keeping this baby alive. He’s going to be the best dad, and Daniel has to sit grumpy with the knowledge that he’s the pregnant buzzkill ruining Christmas and resenting the child that Max loves more than anything.

He must nod off at some point, because he wakes up vertical on the couch with his head in Max’s lap and a blanket tucked neatly around him to form a Daniel burrito. Max has his feet propped up on the coffee table and is playing classical music, a constant these days because he followed some Instagram parenting accounts that claim it’ll make your baby smart. Daniel’s skeptical, but god knows the baby could use any boost it could get because Daniel’s not handing down much in the way of school smarts.

The house is still silent around them, but light is starting to creep in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. It highlights the silver ring on Max’s finger when Daniel pauses his movements and pulls Max’s hand to his mouth to press a kiss onto the cool metal. His matching one sits around his neck these days, his fingers too constantly varying in size to cover the tan line on his finger. It used to make him bitter to look at Max flaunting the ring Daniel can’t wear, but with some sleep in his system, he feels slightly less like the Grinch.

“Merry Christmas,” Max beams when Daniel lands his kiss and he registers that Daniel’s awake. “I’m going to help your mum make breakfast in a minute, but she’s getting you some cocoa and a moment to ourselves first.”

Max takes one thick finger and carefully thumbs the sleep out of Daniel’s eyes. Daniel’s body is too weighed down by foggy warmth and Max’s love to muster a response. Instead, he turns his face into the meat of Max’s thigh, dutifully clad in the matching pajamas his sister had brought for the whole group, and huffs out a hot breath he hope expresses his gratitude.

Max leans over him to kiss the bump good morning and wish it a, “Merry first Christmas.” Daniel can’t help a spark of warm satisfaction that Max said Merry Christmas to him first, then a flash of guilt and embarrassment that he’s competing with his unborn child on today of all days. Max thinks it’s funny, but Daniel tries to keep most of the thoughts internal.

“I have a gift for you,” Max says. His whole body is curled sideways over Daniel’s so his head can rest on the bump, and he rubs at it absentmindedly.

Daniel raises his eyebrows. “I should hope so. It’s Christmas.”

Max laughs, his crinkly-eyed joyous one that’s lived permanently on his face since they saw the plus sign, but also maybe since the day they both said I do.

“This one is very special,” he says, then dislodges Daniel’s head from his lap for a second so he can fish something out of his pocket and place it into Daniel’s waiting hand.

It’s not wrapped, so Daniel can see it immediately. It’s a picture ornament, small but ornate. The gilded frame showcases Daniel’s bump in the pregnancy photoshoot Victoria had insisted upon. She’d promised Daniel that pregnancy feels like shit for nine months, but you still regret all the moments you didn’t document. Daniel had tolerated about thirty minutes of it and refused to look at the pictures after, but he knows Max loved them. He had them printed and put in a special book, and he’d promised Daniel that he’ll keep it hidden until Daniel’s ready.

“I thought we agreed—“ Daniel says, but the words die out when he reads the little writing at the bottom.

“Joseph/Delilah’s First Christmas,” it reads. Stupidly, Daniel feels himself begin to well up.

“I’m not naming our child Dale,” Max says, wagging a finger in Daniel’s face and giggling when Daniel tearily bites at it. “But Delilah is a close for a girl, I think. And I would probably not name a baby after my dad, but yours.” He shrugs. Daniel’s dad is obsessed with Max. The two of them spent half of winter break fixing up an old motorcycle the first time Daniel had brought him home, and whatever happened in that garage had formed a tight bond between them.

When Daniel doesn’t answer, Max adds, “We can also do Grace, but then it feels like we’re picking a mother, and that’s not nice.”

Daniel clutches the ornament tight to his chest and buries his face tighter into Max’s thigh, blinking into the fabric and letting his tears soak Rudolph’s nose into a damp, dark red.

“Thank you,” he says wetly. He sniffles, then steals Max’s sleeve to wipe his nose with the corner of it. Max doesn’t even reprimand him for it. He’s too busy staring down at Daniel with his gentle, sweet lips tugged into a smile, then pursing them to warn Daniel of an incoming kiss once Daniel’s slightly less snotty.

“I know pregnancy has been really hard,” Max says. His head hovers right over Daniel’s, even though it must be killing his neck to crane it that way. “I love you for not divorcing me for doing this to you.”

Daniel shakes his head. “Hey, there’s a week or two left to go. Don’t count your chickens.”

He pauses, takes in Max’s face. He runs the hand still holding the ornament down the prickle of stubble dotting his soft chin, pokes the freckle decorating his pink lips, admires the morning sun glaring off yesterday’s fallen snow and making Max’s hair glow golden. “Pregnancy has been shit, and I complain a lot, but I’m really excited to be a dad with you. Thank you for this.”

His voice breaks off at the last words, and Max kisses him again. His mouth is cozy like the fireplace heat, and they break into still-kissing giggles when the baby does what feels like a flip of excitement under Max’s resting hand.

Daniel’s mum is probably moments away from interrupting their moment. The kids are all going to be awake any minute now to start tearing into presents, and Daniel will probably be back to being grumpy and overstimulated within the hour.

He pushes what’s to come aside and cuddles into his husband’s loving arms and lets himself feel temporarily alight with gratitude.

(“So it might not even be a boy, but you still get all the credit of having maybe named a child after him?” Michelle hisses later, smacking Daniel’s arm as their dad hugs Max and cries. “Dickhead. Was it not enough to become a millionaire racing driver? You’re not invited for Christmas next year.”)

[fillthattank]

Sweet but assertive short-king endurance athlete cooks massive cheat meal for huge, less-assertive would-be strongman competitor, then encourages him and gives him belly rubs until he's completely maxed out.

Tom and Kyle were roommates and best friends. Both bonded over their love of sports, though their athletic profiles could not be more different. Kyle was an endurance athlete, the kind of man who ran marathons as a hobby and who went on epic cross country trails across mountains, finishing at record speed. Standing at 5'5 and weighing in at only 120 lbs, but somehow filling every room he stepped in.

Tom was, well, the opposite. Not very agile, not very good with teammates (or other people in general actually), but very good at lifting heavy things. Built like a bull, 6'4, 300 lbs, with a belly as impressive as his arms. Not the esthetics of a bodybuilder, but a very effective strongman.

Tom stepped back into their appartement, after a hard day training. He'd taken off his shirt - the two were almost always shirtless at home-, sweat glistening over his padded muscles and big belly. Immediately, Tom noticed the smell of food. Their dining table had been laid like for a feast, completely covered with all sorts of meals. Kyle was in the kitchen on the other side of the stand, shirtless too, looking dwarfed by the huge amount of food he'd cooked. All three of their large stew pots were bubbling on the stove,

"Are we having people over?" Tom asked.

"No, just us," Kyle said.

"I thought you'd be hungry after your workout."

Tom looked at the mountain of food Kyle had cooked. Then down at his belly, which stuck out by about two inches from under his pecs and over the elastic of his shorts. He was indeed hungry...

...so hungry he dove right in. Kyle smiled as he watched Tom shovel food into his mouth. As if a switch had been turned on inside the strongman.

"I don't think I need to ask about today's workout," Kyle joked.

Tom let out a huffled sound, his mouth filled with food. He swallowed, and said, "Yeah, today I..."

"No need to tell me, I can tell," Kyle said, walking up to him and shoving a forkfull in his mouth. "Keep eating, you need lots of fuel after training lie that."

Kyle put a hand on one of Tom's pecs, feeling the huge muscle under a thin layer of blubber.

"Dude you're so pumped," Kyle said. Tom nodded, already back to gorging himself.

Before going back to the cooker, Kyle gave his bulky friend a small belly rub. Tom was gorging himself so fast he could literally feel all the food fill his giant belly like a sac.

Kyle barely had to do anything while he prepared the next round of food. Tom could sometimes be insecure about his size, but his belly was there for a reason. Tom needed huge amounts of food to fuel his body and remain competitive in his sport, just like his big belly needed large quantities to feel full. And Kyle knew that deep down, his friend loved those binges.

Kyle had topped up Tom's plate five times when the strongman's pace slowed down.

"You don't like it?" Kyle said.

"No! No, not at all! It's really good."

Kyle smiled, as Tom's pace picked up.

"Good. I wanted to make the best cheat meal possible for you, it would be a shame if you didn't like it!"

Kyle topped up Tom's plate two more times before his bigger friend stalled once again. The strongman sat back, his huge heavy stomach taking up much of the space between him and the table.

"Are you alright?"

"It's heavy, man," he said, slowly rubbing his big belly.

"That's your speciality, isn't it? Heavy things."

Tom chuckled. "Yeah, you're right."

He awkwardly leaned forward, to grab another spoonful. It was a struggle to swallow, Kyle could tell.

"Ooooh that's a lot," Tom said.

Kyle grabbed a chair, and sat down next to him. He put a hand on top of his belly, on the big flat shelf that had formed under his pecs. Feeling the enormous stomach under the layer of fat and unflexed muscle. Tom was very bloated, yes, but he wasn't maxed out yet.

Keeping a hand on Tom's belly, Kyle grabbed the spoon, and started feeding him.

*

"Just how much did I eat?" Tom asked.

Kyle thought for a moment. He hadn't really been focused on numbers so far, just on making as much as possible.

"I'd say... maybe about 3 and a half gallons of stew?

"Holy shit," Tom said. With surprisingly little intonation, most of his energy having gone to his overloaded belly.

Kyle nodded. He'd made an insane amount, even for a big guy with a big belly like Tom. Maybe too much.

"And there's still one pot left," Kyle said, turning to the stove.

There was a brief silence.

"Dude I've had too much. There's no way I can manage more."

Kyle got up. Carried the last stew pot over to them. There had to be a good gallon of stew in there. A gallon and a half maybe. Too much for your average guy to eat in one sitting, even on an empty belly.

"Your belly's bigger than the pot," Kyle said, putting the pot next to Kyle's huge musclegut.

"Bro. It is," Tom said.

The big stew pot looked small, compared to the giant belly.

"That means there's room," Kyle said.

Tom knew the logic was wonky, but was too dazed to argue. When Kyle started feeding him, he ate.

Making even the tiniest mouthful fit in that overloaded belly took a herculean effort, brute force and strength. But that's what Tom was all about. He was on autopilot now, doing what he was best at.

Kyle kept a hand on Tom's belly all along, both impressed, scared at what he was doing, and too engrossed to stop. Tom's belly felt like a sack of cement. The layer of fat, the muscles, they had all been stretched out and made rock hard by the tremendous pressure from all that food. A sack of cement, but one that was somehow swelling.

Tom's belly was so big the individual gulps didn't make any difference, but Kyle could feel it. The gigantic mass of food inside him having to shift as more was forced in, his enormous stomach taking up ever so much more space. The pressure inside him was absurdly high. There was a very real risk of seriously hurting his friend, but it felt right to Kyle, for some reason. And he could tell it felt right to Tom as well.

When there was only a bit of the stew left, Kyle hoisted up the pot. He didn't have to ask, Tom opened his mouth, and let him pour what was left down.

Kyle put the empty pot down. He had literally never seen a belly so big as Tom's was right now. Tom's belly looked too big for his body, which was insane since Tom had the biggest body Kyle knew. Hell, he wasn't that much bigger than Tom's belly at this point!

Tom couldn't get up. He'd have to spend the night on the couch, and probably most of the next day too. His belly felt like a boulder. He was used to lifting heavy things, including big rocks, but this one was inside him. It was him. He could feel his whole body trying to process this absurd volume of food. Often after large meals he would feel his abs, which hidden as they were still had mighty strength, work to help support his pressurised stomach. This time, they were completely stretched out. His belly would probably have burst, he thought to himself, had they been less solid. As for his actual stomach, it was so overloaded the pain from it being so stretched out and the pain from it taking up so much space it was crushing every other organ inside his body had blended together. Like the pain after a big workout.

"You did it," Kyle said. "You managed it all."

"I did. With your help."

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm going to need help digesting all this..." Tom said. Soundind absolutely exhausted.

Kyle suddenly felt a bit nervous. He knew Tom's belly very well, but not when it was this big. And he'd have to be good with his belly rubs, with Tom in this state.

"I trust you," Tom said, with a tired smile.

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 6

Hello! We are back with this lovely story.

Things are starting settle for Steve as he visits his kids and gets news from his cousin, Monty. He also learns he has allies in unexpected places.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~

It was still early enough in the day that Monty wouldn’t be at work so he figured he’d grab a bite to eat and then do some shopping. He might even stop by the Hendersons if he had time. He wanted to see the little pipsqueak again.

As much as Steve was loving the super rich and decadent food of the hotel all he wanted in that moment was a good chili burger from Benny’s.

When he got there the diner was mostly empty, the lunch rush having just ended, so he slid into his favorite booth and waited for the waitress to notice him. And of course because Alice was as sharp intelligence wise as she was sharp tongued, she was over at his table with a cup and pot of coffee.

“Steve Harrington,” she said with a wicked gleam her eye. “I thought you’d done and gone a runner.”

Steve raised his hand and tilted it back and forth. “Ehh...close enough I guess.”

Alice barked out a laugh, shaking her head as she handed him the menu. And he handed it right back.

“I would like a strawberry milk shake, Benny’s Big Chili Burger, and side order of cheese fries.” He grinned at her as she looked at him in shock. “Please?”

She jotted it all down, shaking her head again and then shoved the pad back in her apron. “That will be coming right up.” She turned on her heel and walked right back to the kitchen.

Steve added sugar and creamer to his coffee and took a sip. It wasn’t as good as the hotels, but it was warm and friendly and tasted a little like home.

Alice refilled his coffee twice before his food came out with a stack of napkins. As she placed his food in front of him, she whispered, “Are you safe?”

Steve looked up at her in awe. She looked over her shoulder at Benny who was watching them nervously. Suddenly his insides warmed fast than an entire pot of coffee ever could.

He nodded and gave Benny a thumbs up and hoped from an outsider’s point of view, he was giving the chef indication that he was happy with the food. The chef relaxed and so did Alice.

Steve happily, sloppily ate his meal in peace. He got a couple of side-eyes from some of the other patrons, but he steadfastly ignored them in favor of the delicious food. After he was done he took out a twenty and dropped it down on the table.

Alice deserved something extra for being so nice. He waved goodbye and got back into his car. He checked his watch and saw that he had plenty of time before The Hideout opened so he drove over to the Hendersons.

He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Claudia’s car out front. Because even if Dustin wasn’t home, she would be and be able to pass along the message he had visited. He got out of the car but before he even raised his hand to knock the door swung open and he suddenly had an armful of rowdy teenager.

“Steve!” Dustin cried, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend.

Steve let out a sigh and knot he didn’t know he was holding in his chest loosened and then vanished. Then there was a flurry of other bodies as he was hit with three more hugs. Then Max showed up at the door and pushed her way through the bodies of the four boys to cling to Steve’s waist.

Claudia came to the door and raised an eyebrow at him. “I think they’re happy to see you.”

He huffed out a laugh. He held them all as close as possible. Tears began to run down his face as he squeezed them for as long and as tightly as he could. Finally his arms began to hurt.

“I missed you guys so much,” he whispered into Dustin’s curly hair.

Claudia gently pried each of them off Steve and pushed them into the house with murmured assurances that Steve wasn’t going anywhere and that he would probably like to come inside now.

Finally it was just Max and Dustin, then just Max. When Claudia tried to dislodge her, she buried her head deeper into Steve’s chest.

“Don’t leave me like that ever again,” she whispered fiercely. “Or I will find you and kick your ass. Do you hear me?”

“I promise,” he said solemnly and meant it. Things weren’t all peaches and cream for the other kids, but at least they all had someone willing to care at least a little. Susan Hargrove tried, but her life was a series of bad decisions followed by worse consequences, mainly for Max.

Max finally let go of his waist, but she grabbed his hand, and led him into the house. Steve smiled after hearing from his friends that they wouldn’t take him, after Tommy had done a runner, his parents threw him away like an old soiled rag he had forgotten that he had people who loved him.

Alice and Benny at the diner, his kids.

Once he entered the living room, he was bombarded with questions. He couldn’t even hear what they were saying, it was so loud.

He put his fingers to his lips and whistled long and loud. “Hey, dumbasses! One at a time. Jeez, I’d ask who raised ya, but I know that and they didn’t raise you to behave this way.”

There was some grumbling but they all quieted down and Steve answered their questions the best he could without say who it was who had rescued him.

“You’re trying to tell us,” Mike scoffed, “that some rich money bags swooped in like a white knight and swept you off your feet?”

Yeah, okay, Steve conceded to himself, that did sound hard to believe. He pulled out the wallet. He had taken most of the money had it put in the hotel safe until he got back and talked to the front desk about his room safe, but there was still a lot in there. Minus the twenty to Alice, of course.

He opened it up and pulled out his new shiny, black card and tossed it on the coffee table. Mike picked it up and looked at it. He turned it around to see Steve’s name on the back but literally nothing else was on it.

He threw back on the table and sat back. “So you’ve a black card, so what.”

Steve burst out laughing. Laughing until he was doubled over with it. He threw the rest of the wallet on the table when he finally could breathe again. But Mike refused to pick it up, he just glared at him.

So Lucas picked it up and his eyebrows shot up. “Holy shit, Steve. Did you sell your kidney?”

Mike looked over and saw the wallet was brimming with cash. His head shot up at Steve in shock. “What does a black card mean?”

Steve smiled and crossed his arms over his chest, smug as anything. “Black means no limit.”

“No limit?” Dustin asked. “How can a card have no limit? Even Ma’s card has a limit.”

“It means I can buy an island nation on it and they wouldn’t even bat an eyelash.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t. It’s not my money, but I could.”

Max let go of his hand and took the wallet from Lucas. He looked up at her as she counted the money. “There’s enough in here to pay the rent on my mom’s trailer for six months.”

Steve nodded. “And that’s not even all of it. I left some back at where I’m staying.”

“Which is where?” Will asked. “Dustin won’t tell us.” He looked over at Dustin who stuck his tongue at him.

“I can’t tell you that,” Steve said shaking his head. “I want to, and I will. Just not yet. I need make sure my parents are out of town and don’t have people looking for me before I trust people with that knowledge.”

“So why tell Dustin then?” Mike huffed.

And there it was. It wasn’t that Mike didn’t believe him, it was that he was upset that Dustin was given privileged information.

“I told Mrs. Henderson and Dustin was there,” he defended. “Look. When I’m sure my dad won’t ruin your parents’ lives for you guys helping me, then you’ll know, same as him.” He rolled his eyes. “Plus it was more I gave Dustin a phone number and didn’t realize that they fucking announced who they were regardless of the number called.”

Will snapped his fingers. “A hotel. You’re staying in a hotel!”

Steve threw his head back and covered his face with his hands and groaned his frustration. He had forgotten he was dealing with literal geniuses.

“Oh!” Mike said. “I get it now. You thought they would only say the name of the hotel when you called the front desk but not your room. But you were wrong and that’s how Dustin found out.”

Steve pursed his lips and he nodded, trying not to scream.

“So it wasn’t that you think he’s special,” Max said, “you’re just stupid.”

“Maxine Catherine Maxwell!” Claudia shrieked from the doorway. “We do not call people stupid in this house!”

Max’s jaw dropped at being full named. Steve was even impressed. He didn’t even know that Max had a middle to use.

“Sorry, Steve,” she muttered putting the wallet back on the table and crossing her arms.

Claudia nodded to the wallet and the card. “You best put those away, love. We don’t want you to lose anything now that you’re safe.”

He did as he was told. He then stayed around and answered their questions the best he could. Then when it was time for them to go home for dinner, he offered to take any of them home, but they all declined. Even Max, which surprised him, but he figured she was still stung by being full named by Dustin’s mom.

So he gave her a big hug before she left so she knew he wasn’t mad at her. She hugged him back fiercely and then pushed him away with a weak, “Loser.”

Steve huffed a small laugh and let her go.

He grabbed a sandwich off Claudia and then dashed off. He made a stop at Melvand’s and grabbed his hair products. He used the card for that so that Eddie could get a laugh at that purchase.

Then he pulled up to The Hideout just as it was opening and sure enough, Monty was at the door.

Steve got out of his Bimmer and walked up to the door. It was a Tuesday so there wasn’t anyone lined up.

Monty breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s good to see you, kid, but I can’t let you in.”

Steve held up his hands. “And I’m not asking you to. I’m just here to make sure you didn’t get into trouble and maybe some news if you have it.”

Monty relaxed and threw his arm around Steve’s shoulders, walking off to the side so they could share a smoke and Monty could still keep an eye on the door.

They were about halfway through their cigarettes when Monty finally spoke up.

“You didn’t get me in trouble,” he said, blowing out smoke. “I just don’t want my boss to put two and two together and come up with you being the Eddie Munson pet. You’re dad has been breathing down the necks of the local police. Not to find you, oh no. To run you out of town with a fucking lynch mob.”

Steve winced, flicking the ash off his cigarette with his thumb nail. “I’m not surprised. That’s why I’m laying low. Plus the place has good security, they will deny I’ve ever existed and since they don’t have anything on me, they can’t come back with a warrant.”

“What about your ID?” Monty asked after chewing on his lip for a moment or two.

“It’s on my list of things to get rid of,” Steve assured him. “I just want to do it safely. Cutting it up and throwing it away will only make things annoying for the cops to put back together.”

Monty nodded. “As long as you’re being smart about this, that takes a huge weight off my shoulders.”

“Do you think anyone there that night would remember me?” Steve asked, nervously.

“Don’t know,” Monty said with a shrug. “You did stand out pretty good that night. But whether they recognized you as Clint Harrington’s son? I doubt it and my boss hates cops so ten to one if they come sniffing around that night’s security tapes are gonna do a runner.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to feel relieved. “That’s good to know.”

“How’s Aunt Sophie doing?” Steve asked, grinding his finished cigarette under his shoe. “I heard she had a cancer scare last month?”

Monty scoffed. “Is that what Auntie Maureen said?” He rolled his eyes. “Scare? That implies that she was making it up. Bitch. Stage four. They think they’ve caught in enough time, but only time will tell.”

Steve winced again. “Mom has always been jealous of Aunt Sophie. I’m sorry, man. I hope they get it taken care off.”

“Thanks.”

The conversation turned to various cousins and other relatives. Then by some miracle someone came up to the door and Monty had to go.

Steve watched him trot back to the door and apologize to the patron and he shook his head. He drove back to the hotel and worried about his car. He didn’t know if his dad would think to look here, but he needed a reliable way to get around.

He wanted to skip dinner because he was so tired but he knew he needed to eat. So he ordered room service and called Eddie. It went to voicemail like the thought it would, but he told him all about his day. Then he ate and got ready for bed. He slowly drifted off to gentle silence of the suite around him.

~

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006 @sadisticaltarts

[1-ker0sene-1]

Never Just Two

Ghoap / Reader

(Wheelchair User Reader)

Chap1, Chap2, Chap3

"A Sargeants Bad Luck"

Word Count: 2k

CW: Johnny can't leave well enough alone, misunderstandings to the max

You were starting to come out of your shell now. Gaining some real confidence. Defiance. Threading your personality into the tightly woven design of this team. You still avoided the couple, however it wasn't out of fear. You gave them the respect of coworkers, but because of their actions you made no effort to befriend them. Simon could handle and understand. But it was wearing on Johnny.

"How do we even apologize?"

He groans, laid back lazily in Simons bed. Who rolled his eyes at the dramatic scott.

"By apologizing."

The masked man grumbles in return. He knew a simple 'I'm sorry' wouldn't fix everything, but it would be a start. The real rough part was to do it, cause that meant they would have to directly explain their pathetic behavior of strategizing against a disabled coworker.

"She already hates us I swear it-"

Johnny sighs, sitting up with a frown. Watching you with Gaz and Price was driving him up the wall. He liked being close knit with his team, knowing them and fighting beside them. Maybe you weren't out on the field with a gun, but now you were officially one of them. And you didn't want a damn thing to do with him. You had every reason to, of course, he knows that. He wants to fix it. You have such a strange affect on Johnny, you make him so damn nervous.

He tried first with coffee. Leaving a cup ready for you in the common room, where you'd usually sit by your laptop doing your morning routine and chatting with Price. He can fix this, little things at a time. He was never exactly great at leaving things be.

But then he sees your face, scrunching with confusion staring at the mug in your spot. Johnny doesn't speak up yet, watching emotions flow through you. You take the mug, carrying it back to the counter. Mortified, he watches you pour it right down the sink. Turning to the coffee pot to pour yourself a new cup. As you prepare it, he realizes what happened. He wants to slam his head through a wall.

Fucking idiot.. He made it no where near how you like.

His next attempt, he was sure it would work this time. At least get him on your better side. Was to adjust some of the cupboards. Johnny noticed how sometimes you struggled to reach all the way up with your sitting position. Taking the time to remove the cheap box cupboards, and screw them in a bit lower on the wall. He was almost finished when Gaz interrupted him.

"Hey mate you wanna help with the recruit situation? Got a couple idiots fightin' in the mess hall."

John groans, nodding and heading out with the fellow sargeant to deal with it. The cupboards were mostly done, he just had a couple screws to tighten back up.

By the time he was walking back to continue, he hears a crash. And your voice cursing out. Gaz and Johnny look to eachother before rushing towards the common room. And where you were, holding the detached handle of the cheap cupboard, the rest of it fallen on the floor. It almost fell on you. Once again Johnny wanted to bash himself. He opens his mouth, but Gaz is already coming over to you.

"You alright?"

He asks, resting a hand on your shoulder. His free hand takes the cupboard door and tosses it on the countertop.

"I'm fine just-"

You glance at Johnny, blinking as you see the screwdriver poking out of his pocket. Your eyes shoot away from him. Lips pressing into a tight frustrated line.

"I'm good."

You mumble, reaching to grab something else from a more stable cupboard.

"So you're way of apologizin' is making her coffee that could give her diabetes and dropping a cupboard on her head?"

Simon asks, crossing his arms. Watching Johnny bump his forehead repeatedly against the bed post. The brit is leaned back in a chair, mug of tea in his hands as he watches his distressed scottsman.

"Tha fuck is wrong with me?"

Johnny mutters exasperated.

"You're pushing too hard. We'll apologize tomorrow. Leave it be Johnny."

Simon advises, his hand coming over to his partners shoulder. Giving him a stern squeeze. It was for the best. Give you some time to cool off from Johnny's attempts, hopefully you won't take his actions as more threats. They've done enough of that bullshit.

Johnny swallows.. leave it be. That's what he should do. That is the plan. Leave it be and tomorrow they'll get on track to make things better. He was never good at leaving things alone. He just drowns in the paranoia of your hatred. The way you look at him and Simon makes his stomach ache, embarrassed to admit that it matters to him what you think of them. They started off so harshly with you. Now he's left to watch you show the rest of the team utter warmth and acceptance, things they should have shown you.

Now they're fucked. Utterly fucked. He didn't leave it be. Far from that actually. Johnny slams the door shut behind him in the room. Looking pale with wide eyes. Simon raises a brow at him. Johnny swallows.

"I know ye said ta leave it-"

"What did you do?"

Simon growls, Johnny sucks in a breath. Slowly revealing what he was hiding behind his back. The footrests to your chair. Simons jaw snaps shut, snapping the cigarette in his mouth clean in half.

"What the fuck were you thinkin'!?"

Simon curses, wrenching the footrest from Johnny's hand. Looking down at it with furrowed brows. The blue eyed man starts his explanation.

"I thought I could fix it- she was talkin' all mornin' about it being too high. That it needs lowered cause it hurts her ankles- she was workin' out so I tried adjusting it and the damn thing just fell off-"

Rambling about how his intentions were to assist you. Make things better. But this was far from it.

"Johnny you don't fuck with a mobility aid."

Simon scolds instantly, eyes narrowed. He had a fucking plan. An apology to make. The damn bastard couldn't wait one night!? He runs a hand over his face with a groan.

"You couldn't put it back on?"

Johnny deflates.

".. The screw was stripped. Gotta find a new one that size-"

They're interrupted by harsh banging on the door. Johnny grimaces. Simon gives him a deadpanned glare. Should have let it be. Simon pushes the footrest back into his lovers hand, turning him with a push on the shoulder. Grumbling sarcastically.

"By all means love. Go explain yourself."

Johnny sighs and reaches to pull open the door. Opening his mouth to spew apologies but you don't even give him the chance.

"Where the hell do you get off!?"

You boom, face twisted in a snarl. You are fuming. Sitting in your chair, arms crossed, nails digging into your own skin. Eyes lit up in a furious glare. Your chest heaving up and down. Your feet hanging just above the ground is a sore reminder of Johnny's worst mistake of the day.

"Y'know- I was fine with letting you guys do your thing and not bothering you. But you have no fucking right to make my life hell when I haven't done a god damn thing to either of you!"

Johnny's throat is impossibly tight, strangled by his own actions.

"Lass I'm really-"

"Don't call me that. You call me by my name, or nothing at all."

You snap. He takes a breath and nods. Mumbling your name. Simon stands behind him tense and looking at you.

" 'm really fuckin' sorry. I never meant ta break it."

"Why would I believe that? You've been fucking with me all day!"

You say, brows furrowed. Johnny blinks, shaking his head as he tries to pitifully explain himself. A feared soldier on the battlefield, a menace of explosions and tech, now babbling out excuses to you.

"No- I swear- I was tryin' to find a way to apologize ta ye."

"Apologize? .. Then why wouldn't you just fucking say that?"

You huff.

Simon cocks his head to the side, looking at Johnny with a glare.

"Yeah Johnny, why didn't you just say that?"

He repeats, trying to beat his point into his stubborn partners head. They could have apologized and not been in this mess. Johnny swallows and gives Simon a glare from the corner of his eyes.

"Yer nae helpin'."

Simon rolls his eyes, looking at you again. For once, a little softer. You've been fucked over all day.

The blonde mindlessly adjusted his balaclava a bit, before clearing his throat. Gesturing you inside the room. You give him an untrusting look, before rolling your chair into the room, letting him shut the door behind you. You grumble something under your breath, snatching your footrests back from Soaps hands. Resting it on your lap for now.

Simon grasps Johnny by the nape of the neck, pressing down on him with an authoritative grip to sit down on the edge of the bed. They were going to talk. They were going to start making this right. By doing it the right fucking way so help him god.

"You got every right to be angry. You deserve a proper apology yeah? No excuses. Just the truth."

"Bit of an understatement.."

You mumble, making Johnny wince. Simon nods in understanding. You suck in a tight breath and continue.

".. I already told you I wasn't telling anyone about you guys- so what the fuck do you have against me? .. That I'm new? That I'm not Laswell? ....Is it because of the chai-"

"No!"

Johnny says quickly, Simon almost says it at the same time.

"It's nae like that.. we were right pricks. We know. I really was tryin' ta make it up to ye today. Jus' dinnae know how.. and kept fuckin' it up.."

Soap rubs the back of his neck, blue eyes full of remorse and swimming in guilt. Simon sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"We made a .. Few mistakes. We got off wrong from the start. The apology is long overdue. But we are sorry. We can pay for the repair."

You glance between the two of them with eyes of scrutiny, trying to dig for any hint of insencerity. When you find none you huff in annoyance, it would honestly be easier to hate them.

"Doesn't need a repair. Just a new screw. ... Just thought you did it on purpose."

You mutter. Johnny's shoulders sink.

"I promise ye I dinnae..I wouldn't."

Simon huffs, arm resting on Johnny's shoulder. He looks down at you.

"We're a team.. you're good for this team. We need to start treating you better. As one of us. .. Maybe we can start over right."

"No."

They blink at your rejection. But it's clear you're serious. You raise your brows at them.

"You guys don't just get to start over when you're assholes... Fix your actions instead."

You say, crossing your arms. Simon swallows thickly, you were right. You could go and tell Price of their treatment. Not only get them reprimanded, but you could come clean about all of them and get them in some real trouble.

"No more running around behind my back. Tell me when you want to help out.."

Johnny lifts his head at your words, opening his mouth. But you hold up a hand and give him a light glare.

"And no touching the chair anymore. Shouldn't have to say that at all."

You say, Johnny nods instantly.

"I deserve to be here. I know you're a Lieutenant, and I know you're a Sargeant. But I have a job to do too. Frankly it's to make sure you guys get back alive..... I'm not telling Price what happened."

Both men slack with relief. But you're not done yet.

"But if you pull that shit again. I'll transfer out. I know my worth. I'm not going to stay where I'm not wanted."

"We know-"

Simon starts.

"Then act like it."

You finish. Effectively silencing them. Simon gives a short nod to your order. In a way it was hard to describe the affect you had on them. Your strangely strong and suffocating presence. You weren't to be stepped on. You weren't to be taken lightly. Not anymore.

{Tag list: @waiting-so-long @redz0mbie @lolly145 @infpt-zylith @missmidnight-writes }

[russellsppttemplates]

I love love love your work sooooo muchhh. I had a request only if you feel comfortable writing it, if not that’s totally okay 🫶🏼🫶🏼

But it’s dad max who is maybe under a lot of stress and gets interrupted over a call or just trying to do some work by his little one and accidentally snaps but immediately feels so bad

Cw: mentions a little of Max's childhood with his father (from what I know from the internet)

The meetings at RedBull had been keeping Max on his toes, and between interview and photoshoots, combined with a few nights where he couldn't sleep all that well, he was stretched to the maximum.

"Papa, can you help me with these, please?", Finn asked as he saw Max close his notebook on the table, thinking he was done with work.

"I can't right now, Finn! Can't you see I'm working?", he snapped, regretting his choice of words and tone to let your son know he couldn't help him just yet.

Finn was quick to mumble "I'm sorry", grabbing the box he wanted help with and leaving to find you. When he met you in your office, the tears he was holding on fell softly from his eyes as you stretched your arms for him to cuddle you, "I didn't mean to make papa upset", he muttered after settling down his hiccups.

"I know you didn't, my love", you assured, "and deep down papa knows that too", you tried, "how about after papa finishes what he is doing, he talks to you? Would you be fine with that?", you asked, brushing his blonde hair with your fingers.

"Yes", he hiccuped before he settled himself against your chest, fist clutching your top as you swilled you both with the help of your legs, your lips pressing multiple kisses on his forehead as he settled down.

Finn fell asleep on your arms by the time you needed to get started on dinner so you set him down on his bed, heading to the kitchen and finding Max in there already, stirring something in the pot.

"Is he asleep?", Max asked, and once you looked at his face, you confirmed how sorry you thought he would be, "yes, I left him in his bedroom until dinner is ready", you stated, waiting for him to speak.

"I didn't mean to do it, the minute the words came out of my mouth, I regretted them. It took me straight out to when I was a kid", he sighed, making you go up to him and rub his back encouragingly, "I don't want that for Finn, or for any other kids we might be fortunate to have, never ever! And I failed him, and I failed you. I'll apologise as soon as he wakes up", he fumbled with his thumbs.

"You're nothing like what you felt or experienced when you were a kid, Max", you stated, "you know that and I know that. What you didn't isn't excusable, and I think you're doing the right thing in apologising to Finn, but don't best yourself up about this. You and your father couldn't be any more different, okay?", you ensured, kissing his cheek.

When dinner was ready, Max went upstairs to wake Finn up and talk to him.

"Hey, Finn, time for dinner", Max said as he shook his little body softly, "and I'd like to apologise to you if that's okay", he justified, letting him sit up straight and tub the sleep out of his eyes, "I'm sorry I snapped at you like that, you didn't deserve it and I shouldn't have dealt with the situation the way I did. I love you so much and I never want to you think you upset me, much less for asking for me".

"I just wanted help with the new puzzle mama got me", he said, "but it's okay, you're forgiven. Just, don't do it again, okay? Please", he pouted, making Max make a promise to himself right there: no more snapping.

"Of course I won't, buddy", he said as your son crawled to his arms, "Good, papa, now let's go downstairs because mama is making spaghetti with cheese!".

(Thank you for submitting an ask ✨️)

[stevesbipanic]

@steddielovemonth Day 29: Love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy @forgottenkanji

Eddie knew a lot of things about Steve. He knew he loved peonies more than roses and listened to folk music when he cooked. He knew he loved sledding in the winter and lake days in the summer. He knew every step of his hair care routine and loved head scratches the most. Above all he knew Steve loved Valentine's Day.

He remembered how Steve would always make sure every girl got at least one rose delivered to them in home room and loved decorating his locker. Always wrote his classmates cards to fill their love boxes and made sure the kids got plenty of chocolate. Watched some special girl get taken on a perfect date each year, wishing for a world it could be him.

He remembers there being no dates last year, Steve looking as forlorn as him. He would find out a couple months later it's because the golden boy had been harbouring an equally massive crush and they promptly got together.

Now this year he vowed to go all out for his sweet boyfriend and give him the Valentine's Day he deserved.

"Eddie you hate Valentine's Day."

"You said it was capitalist bullshit."

"You literally burnt a bouquet once."

Eddie glared at the other Hellfire boys, he'd asked them to the diner to help him plan the best day ever not be attacked.

"That was the old Eddie, a sad gay little teenager, adult Eddie has the prettiest boy in the world to please."

Jeff was looking at him fondly while Grant rolled his eyes and Gareth gagged.

"EW don't call my cousin pretty!"

"We literally perform a song where I do just that."

"GOLDEN GODDESS IS ABOUT STEVE!"

"Hush, Garebear, we have plans to make."

The plan began simple, Robin was to take Steve out for breakfast, well, Steve take her out after she begs. Convincing Robin of the plan was easy since she loves Steve and free food as much as Eddie.

Then, while the boys set up the final surprise, Eddie would meet up with Steve at the arcade with the kids.

"Can't wait til we're home and alone, Eds, nice to have someone on Valentine's Day again."

"Just you wait, sweetheart."

Max would then radio Steve asking him to drive her to the movies for her date (although she was refusing to call it that again) with Lucas. She was also easy to convince, liking free rides.

Eddie would quickly change and rush to Steve's apartment to make dinner, he'd told Max to delay getting ready til Steve got there to stall him. He figured he'd have just enough time before-

Eddie was only halfway through making dinner before he heard the keys in the lock. No, Steve was home early, the candles weren't even lit yet!

"Eddie?"

He felt caught and dejected, all his plans falling through his fingers.

Steve glanced around the apartment, rose petals and unlit candles and the dining table set for two with a bouquet of peonies in a vase. Steve's favourite, spaghetti bubbling away behind Eddie.

"Eds, did you do all this for me?"

There's a certain awe in his voice as he asks. Eddie turns, turning down the heat on the pot and steps towards Steve. He takes his boy's hands gazing at him softly, "Of course, sweetheart, you love Valentine's Day. You're always so busy making it special for everyone else, and you missed last year, I wanted you to get wooed for once."

Steve's eyes are a little misty but he's smiling so Eddie knows he's not upset, "You got home early tho, baby, I haven't even lit the candles or turned on the music," Eddie explained biting his lip softly.

"I'm guessing Max was meant to keep me busy? You didn't tell Sinclair and his mom picked her up," Steve laughed.

"Shit, I knew I forgot something."

Steve kissed his cheek, "I'm going to get changed, think that'll be enough time for you?"

"Knowing you'll take forever with your hair, yeah I'll be ready, angel."

Steve flicked him playfully, "Oi, you love my hair."

Eddie yelped but smiled coyly, "Love messing it up too," he said winking.

Steve blushed and went to his bedroom to change. Eddie quickly finished the food, turned on the radio and lit the candles hoping it all set a romantic mood. Like clockwork he plated the food just as Steve returned to the room.

"Smells delicious, baby, you made my favourite!"

Eddie helped him into his chair, playing up the gentlemen's act, "Anything for you, sunshine." He poured them wine and laughed together as Eddie explained the whole plan, including Gareth's protest which Steve's giggled at. They were now cuddled on the couch, not really watching the movie, more just looking at each other occasionally trading soft kisses.

"Thank you for today, Eds, it really means a lot."

"I want to make every day special for you, Stevie."

"I wanted to ask you something, was going to ask on our anniversary but no-one has ever seen me the way you do."

"You know you can ask me anything, love."

Steve took Eddie's hand, glancing down and playing with his rings, a habit Eddie knew he did when he was nervous, "I wanted to ask if you wanted to move in with me?"

A smile quickly crept across Eddie's face, thought about getting to come home everyday to Steve and wake up every morning to him. Thought about how home had become the boy sitting across from him, wherever he went Eddie always wanted to follow.

"I'd love to move in with you, Stevie."

Neither boy would ever have to spend another day, Valentine's or not, not feeling completely and utterly loved ever again.

[yallthemwitches]

The Best Fun

Super silly, short fic for @jilytoberfest Day 6: Food disasters

Because we all know Sirius would be the one to experiment with muggle drugs~ AO3 link here!

“Prongs—don’t be angry.”

Peter stood with his back against the Fat Lady who screamed at him to be unhanded. His arms were outstretched but his face was riddled with absolute fear. 

“Can’t say I love hearing that from you, Wormy.”

If Peter had been sent to ward him off, that meant that the other two marauders must be shit deep in whatever laid beyond the portrait hole. Usually, the prospect of something to spice up his evening would perk his spirits, but tonight was a rare exception. 

He had been forced to do patrols with Chloe Sparrow due to the fact that she had been favoring her fellow Slytherins during her rounds. Although it had been his idea, it didn’t help that it took away precious time patrolling with Lily. Then, as he had come to find out, it also meant the night would be filled with a strange mixture of semi racist remarks and what James could only refer to as a grotesque version of flirting, ending in Chloe being sent back to her dorms before she could smack his arse another time. 

So in short, James’ bullshit threshold was reaching max capacity. 

“So—do you just want to tell me or do I need to pretend to struggle past you…”

Peter started to look visibly sweaty and backed off of the Fat Lady who, now free from her smothering, chirped insults under her breath. 

“Uhm. So before I say anything, you should know Lily wanted to, so—”

“Peter.” 

James was losing patience fast. He had expected the lads to have done something, sure, but Lily was a development he wasn’t ready for. From his tone alone, it all came tumbling out of Peter like a single word.

”Pads made some stuff.” 

“What kind of stuff?”

Peter’s eyes shifted. “Muggle stuff—said something about how that band,The Beagles or whatever, used it to—”

James walked up to his mate who jumped out of the way before he could even attempt to push through. 

Trudging through the portrait hole, Peter kept fast on his feet, babbling excuses like a mosquito hovering to feed.

“Again! She wanted to! Even helped a bit! Moony didn’t stop them!”

A voice drawled out from the center of the common room. “Thanks for ratting me out Wormy.” 

Remus laid reclined on the length of the couch, book in one hand while a cigarette hung from his lips. 

James took stock of the room. The only thing that looked remotely out of place was a tray of what looked like a dessert which had been ravenously attacked. A knife balanced on the baking tray. 

“So where are they?” 

Without any further elaboration Lupin tilted his head towards the fireplace and James took the two steps needed to get enough clearance to see over onto the ground. Lily was curled up in a ball, eyes closed and head resting on the stomach of a giant black dog, both completely asleep.

“Explain.” He used his head boy voice, but Remus only laughed. 

“Sirius thought it would be a scream to make pot brownies—should have seen them about an hour ago—never seen two people hug and dance around so much in my life.”

Peter, who was still standing at the entrance of the portrait hole, pipped up in a quivering voice. “It was quite nice actually—Lily was so affectionate and—”

“And you didn’t call me? Didn’t think that I wanted to come try muggle drug food too?”

James looked down at his sleeping girlfriend who buried her nose into Sirius’ stomach, hands curling around the fur, blissfully unaware that the animal she was laying on could be anything other than a dog. 

“You all knew I’ve always wanted to do this, Moony! Honestly, I’m hurt!”

“Sorry mate, it just happened.”

James crouched down next to Lily’s sleeping form, brushing some of her hair from her face. At his touch, her eyes blinked open, a brilliant glassy green, slightly bloodshot, looked up at him.

“Oh Baby! You’re back!” She lifted up and threw her arms around his neck, nuzzling her nose into his collar. 

“Oh I just love you! Wow, you smell so good!” 

Every word from her mouth sounded breathy and light, like the world was one big cloud with her on it. From behind him, Peter muttered: “See? I quite like her stoned” and Lupin just snorted in response.

“Have you met this dog? I love this dog.” She turned to wrap her arms back around a still sleeping Sirius, but James caught her, pulling her back into him. 

“I have met the dog—that's ok, we can leave him alone now.” James cradled her to his chest and she melted into him, completely forgetting Sirius despite her comment seconds ago.

“I can see you had some fun tonight.” 

She didn’t respond, rather looking up into his eyes before bursting into a laugh, grabbing both sides of his face and smashing their foreheads together. 

“Brilliant fun. The best fun. But not as fun as you. I missed you.”

It was hard to feel upset about that. James scooped under her legs and carried her like a child over to the staircase which led up to the dorms. Laughter tumbled out of her mouth before becoming preoccupied with kissing his neck in quick, frantic pecks. 

“I’m going to get her to bed before she decides she loves someone else—” Lily just squealed, wrapping her hands tighter around his neck in an attempt to get him to kiss her.

“If Sirius wakes up, tell him I’ll give him a running head start in the morning before I beat the shit out of him–.”

Remus didn’t look up from his book, eyebrows raised.

“Awfully kind of you Prongs.”

James started to climb the steps, Lily alternating between laughter and proclamations of love.

“Well–It’s the least I could do to repay him.”