#i know i am a silver fox

[cyber-therian]

the way im trying to force myself to be a spiritual therian because a post (i probably misinterpreted, if im being honest) made me feel like i can never be right about what my type really is because im a psychological therian

[kayvsworld]

also worth of mentioning secret wars got silver fox tony 😝

wait wait WAIT. BACK UP WAIT HANG ON

TYHIS IS WHERE THAT BEAUTIFUL TONY IS FROM????? MOST BEAUTIFUL TONY STARK IVE EVER SEEN THE LEINIL FRANCIS YU TONY STARK???????

he's talking to BUCKY BARNES in this famous beautiful panel where he is being famous and beautiful. i can't believe this i am going to pass out

[hana-bobo-finch]

OH YEAH JOY AND WHIMSY I SAW A DEER EARLIER!!!

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Fic idea: Before or during his Red Hood plan. A returned from the pit Jason Todd is determined to make it to his high school senior prom

WAIT EVEN BETTER, It'd be longer and harder to write but I really like the idea of Jason just casually going to highschool too, and maybe it leads up to the prom. He just shows back up one day. Does something that manages to keep media attention off of him. Would it be before Red Hood? would it encourage him to not don the helmet? Would he do it while Red Hooding? Would he finally get to join an after school theater club?

[impishtubist]

mating woes

Confession: I love omegaverse and simultaneously have absolutely no idea how the omegaverse actually works. So I’m just making shit up here. Content warning for, well, basically everything that omegaverse entails.

----

Harry catches a strange, sweet-sour scent as he hugs his brother. Pulling back, he holds Teddy by the shoulders, frowning at him. 

“What?” Teddy asks, shifting uncomfortably.

“You smell weird.” 

“Rude,” Teddy mutters, pulling out of Harry’s grip and giving Ginny a hug. “Hiya, Gin.”

“Hi, Teddy. You smell lovely as ever.”

“Thank you. You should teach your husband some manners, you know.”

“Believe me, I’ve tried.”

But Harry knows that something isn’t right, and he also knows that Ginny wouldn’t be able to pick up on it, being a beta. “Teddy, what’s wrong? Are you ill?”

“I’m fine.” 

He isn’t. There’s something off about his little brother. That scent also reminds Harry of something, something he’s smelled before, but not recently. He sniffs the air again, and his brain says Ginny. But that doesn’t make any sense, why would Teddy smell like Ginny? 

It hits him like a thunderclap. Ginny hasn’t smelled that way in years, not since Lily was born. Harry’s mouth drops open. “Teddy…are you pregnant?”

“Shh!” 

Harry gapes at him. “Are you?”

Teddy grabs his arm and drags him into the kitchen, Ginny on their heels. The door swings shut behind them.

“Can you not?” Teddy hisses. “Do you have to announce it to the whole world?” 

“Who’s the other father?” Harry demands. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone! And you’re definitely not mated.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Teddy says. 

Sirius is going to have a fit. “It absolutely does matter! Teddy, Dad’s gonna lose his mind.”

“No, he won’t. Listen, they’ll be here at seven, yeah? Tell them I came a bit early to see the kids, I wasn’t feeling well, and I went home. I’ll see them for dinner next Sunday, okay?”

“That doesn’t solve the problem! You’ll still be pregnant then!” Harry says. “Wait, you will, won’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’ll--I don’t know, I’ll be better at masking it or something by then!” 

“Da is an omega and a werewolf, you’ll never be able to mask anything from him.”

Teddy groans and drops into the nearest chair, burying his head in his hands.

“Teddy,” Ginny says tentatively, “how long have you known?”

“Two days.” 

“How far along are you?” Harry asks. 

“Does it matter?”

“Yeah, Ted, it kind of matters!” 

“My last heat was twelve weeks ago, happy?”

“You spent your heat with someone, he knocked you up, and didn’t even bother to mate you? And it’s been three months?” Harry runs his fingers through his hair. “Sirius is gonna skin him alive. You realize that, right?”

“Not if I don’t tell him who it is,” Teddy says sullenly.

“He will find out.” Sirius can be a bit terrifying like that, honestly. “Teddy, listen to me. It will be worse if he has to find out on his own. You need to tell us who it is.” 

“Ugh, why does Dad have to be so bloody alpha all the time?” Teddy groans. 

“It’s his biology, Ted, he can’t help it.” 

“You’re not like that.” 

“Well, I don’t have an omega child who is pregnant and unmated!” Harry says heatedly. “I’m sure I’d feel differently if I did. Who is it?”

Teddy sags in his seat. His scent has soured further; now he’s clearly distressed. “You’re going to hate me.” 

Harry sighs. “You’re my little brother. I could never hate you.” 

“It’s Cedric.”

“Cedric,” Harry repeats. “Cedric Diggory?”

“Yeah.”

“Teddy, he’s twenty years older than you!” And, frankly, Cedric should know better. Spending a heat with an unmated omega, what was he thinking? Unmated sex was one thing, everyone did that before they settled down, but unmated heats were quite another. Not to mention the unmated omega son of Lord Sirius Black. 

“And he’s your ex.”

Harry waves that away. “We dated when we were kids, I don’t care about that. Do you like him?”

“I love him.”

“Then the best thing you can do for him is go Floo him, right now, tell him about the baby, and then tell him he has fifteen minutes to get his arse over here and present himself to our parents,” Harry says. “And then maybe, just maybe, Sirius won’t murder him on the spot.” 

“Go on, Teddy,” Ginny says. “Use the Floo in Harry’s office.” 

Seven minutes later, Teddy comes back into the kitchen with Cedric Diggory, who is wearing what looks like his most expensive set of dress robes and is white as a sheet.

“Hi, Cedric.” Harry offers his hand and what he hopes is a comforting smile, though it feels like a grimace. “Congratulations. And, er, my condolences.” 

Cedric swallows. “How bad is it going to be?”

“Play your cards right, and he might not kill you.”

“Harry,” Ginny admonishes. She goes over to Cedric and lays a hand on his arm. “It’s going to be fine.”

Cedric relaxes slightly. Ginny has always been a much better liar than Harry.

The doorbell chimes--Sirius and Remus must have taken the bike tonight--and everyone tenses. Teddy gives Cedric a quick hug, pressing his face into the side of Cedric’s neck and breathing deeply--scenting him for comfort. Well, well, Harry thinks. Maybe his baby brother has fallen in love after all. 

“Where are my favorite grandkids?” Sirius’s voice booms through the house, and there are pounding feet on the stairs. Harry, Ginny, Teddy, and Cedric come out of the kitchen to see Sirius embracing James, AJ, and Lily. He releases the kids to Moony, and then looks up. Surprise flits across his face.

“Teddy!” he says, delighted. “I didn’t know you were joining us tonight, kiddo. And…Cedric? Is that you?”

“Lord Black,” Cedric says, inclining his head. He’s still pale, but holds on to his composure. 

“You’ve certainly grown,” Sirius says, clasping Cedric’s hand. “I didn’t realize you and Harry still kept in touch.”

“We don’t,” Harry says. “Cedric’s here because he has something to ask you.” 

Cedric hesitates. He’s trembling slightly, clearly fighting every single one of his alpha instincts. Slowly, inch by inch, he sinks to his knees, until he’s kneeling on the floor in front of Sirius, head bowed. Harry feels his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline. Simply bowing low would have been enough. For one alpha to kneel before another…that’s unheard of, and frankly something that is bound to impress Sirius. 

Sirius simply stares in shock at the alpha kneeling in front of him, but Remus goes over to Teddy. He sniffs the air, and says, “You’re pregnant.” 

“What?” Sirius’s head snaps up. “You’re what?”

“Pregnant, Dad,” Teddy says, in a small voice Harry isn’t accustomed to hearing from him. 

“It’s Cedric’s?” Remus asks, and Teddy nods. 

“I see,” Sirius says, his expression growing stony. Suddenly, the room reeks of alpha. He looks back down at Cedric. “So you’re asking for permission to mate my son? You should have thought of that before you knocked him up.”

“Yes, alpha,” Cedric says. 

Sirius circles him slowly. “How long?”

“Twelve weeks,” Teddy says weakly.

“Twelve weeks? You spent a heat with an unmated omega and he is still unmated twelve weeks later?” Sirius asks. “Were you ever intending to mate him, Diggory?”

“Yes, alpha.” 

“Dad, come on,” Teddy says. He tries to step forward, but Remus holds him back. “Are you gonna give him your blessing or not?” 

Sirius looks up. His grey eyes have turned amber, and his incisors have sharpened slightly. 

“This is the one you want?” he asks Teddy, who nods.

“Yes.” 

“When is your next rut?” Sirius asks Cedric.

“Next week, alpha.” 

“You’ll mate him then,” he says. Teddy nods vigorously, and Cedric says, “Yes, alpha.” 

“Stand up.”

Cedric quickly gets to his feet, and Teddy goes over to him, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together. 

“You have my consent,” Sirius sighs, and Teddy beams before throwing his arms around Cedric’s neck. Sirius’s gaze lands on James, AJ, and Lily, and he says sternly, “You three! You will not spend your heats or your ruts with anyone while unmated, got it? Don’t be like your uncle.” 

“Yes, Grandpa,” they chorus. Remus rolls his eyes at them over Sirius’s shoulder, and they stifle laughter. Sirius turns to his husband, and Remus takes his hand. 

“Thank you for not hexing the father of your future grandchild, Padfoot.”

“You mean like your father did to me?” Sirius huffs. 

“To be fair, love, you didn’t show him the proper respect.” 

“He wanted me to bow to him!” 

“Alphas,” Remus sighs. “You’re all alike.” 

Teddy finally disentangles himself from Cedric and goes over to his parents. Remus sweeps him into a hug. 

“I’m so happy for you, Teddy Bear,” he says. “How have you been feeling?”

“Bit sick, but it’s not too bad,” Teddy says. “Tired, mostly.”

“I’ll get you the name of the midwife I used. She was a wonderful help throughout the pregnancy,” Remus says. “You can also call me, day or night, with any questions you have.” 

Sirius steps in to also hug Teddy.

“I love you,” he says into Teddy’s bright blue curls, “even if you are a little shit.” 

“Love you, too, Dad.” Teddy steps out of his arms, wrinkling his nose. “Did you have to stink up the room with your alphaness, though? Like, geez, we get it.”

Sirius looks affronted. “I did not stink up the room!”

“You totally did.” Teddy grabs Cedric’s hand. “It reeks in here. It’s practically alpha soup, which is super gross. So, we’re gonna beg off tonight.” 

“We’ll see you both for dinner next Sunday?” Harry asks, amused, as Teddy starts to drag Cedric toward his office and the Floo.

“Properly mated!” Sirius calls after them.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be mated and everything, don’t worry. Bye, Harry! Bye, dads!” 

“Brat,” Sirius mutters. “He gets that from you, you know.” 

“You love it,” Remus says, and Harry makes a face. 

“You two are gross.”

[fluffyk97]

I just keep thinking of all these different scenarios of either Sonic dying, or becoming immortal thanks to the emeralds- all that. Now suddenly I have the idea of both, kinda (sprinkled with a bit of Sonadow).

Sonic's special bond with the emeralds (because he totally does) leads him to be a but burdened with immortality. Of course he hates it when it's found out, feeling a part of his own freedom being taken away from him, even if it's death. It hurts seeing those around him growing older and eventually passing.

But Sonic being Sonic, he makes sure to find the positives through it all. Tails for one, luckily being a kitsune (I'm attached to the idea), doesn't pass either. Then Shadow and Omega, he manages to grow closer to them (Shadow especially). Raising Silver (Adopted? Tube baby as a Sonadow kid? Can't decide). All while keeping the world safe. He even looks forward to seeing Chip again.

But terrible event happens and the world starts dying. Drought, all vegetation drying up and falling apart. All energy in the world is just... dying. Even the Master Emerald, but the Chaos Emeralds still hold their power.

Sonic draws the last energy of the Master Emerald into himself and the Chaos Emeralds, he overfills himself with energy begging to be released, ready to tear his body apart. Tails frantically tries to pull anything else up on any of his tech to try and find another solution, but all he gets is static and a black screen. Shadow feels himself frozen as he stares at Sonic glowing like the sun right in front of him. He tries to tell Sonic to stop, let him do it instead. Shadow feels so angry as grief bubbles in his chest while Sonic just smiles at him and shakes his head. They both know only Sonic can do it anyway...

Sonic floats down to Shadow, placing the shared inhibitor ring Shadow gave him so long ago in his hand. Shadow feels his hand burn from how much energy Sonic has as his eyes burn from the tears gathering in his eyes that he hates are there.

He hates how Sonic is just smiling at him. He hates how he's just going to leave his little brother behind. He hates how he managed to worm his way into his heart. He hates how he's making him feel at that moment. Hates how he's making watch someone close to him die in front of him again. He hates how he loves him.

Sonic floats up into the sky until he's no longer seen except as just a second sun in the sky. It suddenly bursts and the light surrounds the Earth. Technology sparks back on. Water returns and fills up the oceans, lakes, rivers, streams. Plants bloom and gain back color. Life and energy returning to all other living beings around the planet that were suffering. The Earth was revived.

The Master Emerald gains back its wondrous glow, but instead of just green, it starts to shine multi-colored. Red, yellow, green, teal, blue purple, white.

Tails and Shadow inspect it later and find the similar energy signatures of the Master Emerald merged with the Chaos Emeralds and Sonic's. It hums and glows brighter in their presence, washing over them and the world as they grieve.

Sonic became a part of the Earth he loved so much, and they'll make sure to keep him safe.

[rhetoricalrogue]

All the DA talk is making me miss The Boy, the Magical Sweetheart Son, and my Magical Dumpster Fire Son.

The new hair physics would make Rolfe go

because he was stuck with the mullet being the only hair that looked good on him and then had to spend the entire time convincing people he had amazing hair that he was 200% vain about.

I saw something about knives being magical focus and couldn’t help but think about Gavin going around Kirkwall with a dagger like his sister (because Vivian would have given him one of hers) but then attaching it onto a stave anyway just to be a Little Shit with “no, mister Templar sir. This is my long range pointy stick I stab people with while keeping the city streets safe at night. No magic involved, none whatsoever.”

And I just miss Vincent, plain and simple. I love that guy.

[louisplumpyass]

[seithr]

my twitter acc keeps getting recommended posts about pierce brosnan again i feel like a trained dog and a delicious steak is being dangled in front of me. he's so fine. what the hell

[cherry-leclerc]

we never talk about it ☆ op81

genre: humor, angst, yearning, massive crushes, and lots and lots of miscommunication, assistant!reader

word count: 11k

It's unwise—longing for someone like Oscar. While he's the epitome of someone anyone can easily fall in love with, you're the epitome of a devoted girl who will fall in love with him. You might not even care too much about all the heartbreak you endure along the way.

inspired by this !

cherry here!... based on real events.

Do you remember the day we first met?

The wind doesn’t do its job in blocking him out, the way you prayed and wished it would. You’re still able to catch the crack in his voice—a distant reminder of the way it once made you giggle. Even his nose is beet red, matching the Christmas lights. But apart from all that, you still hear him. You still see him. 

You always have.

“A little bit. Yeah.”

He flinches, then tries to play it off with a soft smile. Like he doesn’t want you to uncover the slight hurt he feels. But he can’t read your mind. He never could. And that was the problem.

Oscar nods, feigning indifference. “I do. Remember it all, I mean.  Think back to it quite often."

-

It’s utterly useless to try and ignore him, really.

His hair is too fluffy, his eyes are too bright, and his accent is making you want to flaunt the way some loony character would with a hand over their heart. It was honestly a tad bit demeaning.

But you can't help it. You admire the way his brown locks fall in a lousy manner when he towers down to sign the contract. You blush when his eyes get that twinkle in them. And you swoon over almost anything he says with a shy smile.

“You’re drooling.”

Mortified, you briskly run the back of your hand against your mouth before sending a harsh glare. Lando snickers. “Would you please stop?”

His jaw drops, theatrically. “You’re not actually into him—are you?”

He says it with a trace of humor, but also shock, and you can't help but have your mouth run dry. A loose grin starts to expand across his lips as you hurriedly shake your head. “O-of course not. Are you crazy?”

But if anything, you feel crazy. You must be, right? With every passing second of your heart beating faster and faster against your chest simply just by looking at the young Australian, you’re sure you fall straight into the category like some love fool.

Lando squints his eyes. “I don’t know.” He leans in straight into your face, nearly hissing. “Am I?”

“Am I interrupting?” 

Flinching hard, you turn quickly to face Anastasia. You’d initially met the black haired girl back in 2019. As you started off as the Brits personal assistant, she took over as Carlos’ and later also Daniel’s. Over the course of time, you two came to be as close as sisters. 

“No! Not at all,” you squeak, nervously before pushing the McLaren driver away and patting towards the open chair next to you. She giggles, rolling her eyes and adjusting herself. “How was the flight over?”

A shrug. “As good as it can get. Sat next to a silver fox, so I guess that must count for something, no?” Lando shudders. She leans in closer, plopping her head against your shoulder. “What’d I miss?”

“Not much.” Only, that’s not true. She missed the way he laughed awkwardly when the doors wouldn’t slide open and let him into the headquarters. She missed the way he rolled his R’s a little too hard when saying ‘sorry’. She missed the way he grabbed the pen with a certain glow on his face, like he almost couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Lazy fingers pat her head gently once before sighing. “He seems nice.”

“How do you know?”

You know because of the way he talks to everyone. Like he cares about what they have to say. Whether it’s about how great his career is going to be here in McLaren or if they introduce their kids to him via FaceTime. He always wore the same smile, talked in the same warm tone. So, could your guess be far off? Yes. It could be completely far off. But you would bet money that it wasn’t. 

“Just a wild hypothesis.”

Her laugh isn’t too loud, not ridiculously so, at least, but the fact that it echoes is what makes it appear as such. Anastasia is quick to slap her hand over her mouth, the Brit turns fast to face her with panic evident in his eyes, and you simply blink with a shade of red slowly creeping towards your cheekbones. 

Zak grins. “You three.”

“Oh, we’re out,” Lando mumbles in monotone, already grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the exit. You follow numbly, like you don’t have any strength left in your body. 

“You’re leaving me?” Anastasia hisses.

“She’s my assistant,” he says like a matter-of-fact. “Where I go, she goes.”

“Oh, you Judas—”

“All of you,” Zak clarifies, narrowing his eyes over to you and the Brit. You gulp.

With a soft curse, Anastasia stands up, tall and firm, and makes her way over with all the confidence in the world. You frown, craving to be the same way, even just a small percentage. Instead, you have to be forced by the McLaren driver. 

With every step, your head just spins faster because now, he’s more than real. You can smell his cologne. You can count all the moles that cover his face if you really wanted to. You can spot how his hair is still a bit wet, indicating an early shower. 

He’s just becoming— too real. 

“Lando, buddy, meet your new teammate!”

“Nice to meet you,” the blue eyed boy declares with a loopy grin, letting go of your hand in order to shake his. 

“Likewise.”

Zak claps once. “Oh! And meet your personal assistant, Anastasia.”

“Here for anything you might need,” she cheers with a bright smile.

“Fantastic.”

A wave of silence overlaps your four before Lando clears his throat. “And even though you might not be working with her one-on-one, this is my Anastasia.” A snicker. “My assistant, if you will.”

“Nice to meet you—”

“Nice to meet you—”

You both freeze, hands intertwined for a second longer before abruptly letting go. He lets out a dry laugh while you do the same. The way your skin tingles makes you blush. 

“This is fun and all, but we actually have somewhere to be,” the Brit claims with a suspicious look slashed across his usual laid back expression. You nod. “But we’ll see each other soon, man. Can’t wait to race together!”

In a flash, you two are out the door, leaving a dumbfounded Oscar blinking slowly.

-

“He fucks with you.”

“Excuse me?”

Another bench press. “As in, he likes you. He’s into you.”

You don’t dare ask who he is because you already know who the Brit’s referring to and that would only inflate your ego. Snapping your fingers, you narrow your eyes. “Focus. Two more sets left to go.” He groans, flipping you off.

It would be a lie to say that this didn’t make your self-esteem skyrocket. Could he be right? Could someone like Oscar ever lay eyes on you? Somewhere in your dreams, you’d like to say yes. Yes. That is a possibility. But the longer you think about it, the more unrealistic it gets.

You don’t have what others do. And that itself is enough to pop the bubble. 

-

The start of the season is always tough. 

“He’s extremely nervous.”

For some more than others.

You frown. “Really? But he’s usually so…relaxed.”

Anastasia shrugs, hair falling over her shoulder as she continues typing. “I mean, I tried talking to him but with everything I said, he’d just reply—'that's nice’. It was sarcastic, if anything. I would have laughed if I didn’t feel for him. Poor boy.” Her fingers freeze mid-air. “Wait—do you think you could talk to him?”

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea—”

“Come on! Maybe it’ll help him ease his nerves!”

“Ana—”

“Please.”

You huff. “Okay. Fine. Yeah. I’ll see what I can do.”

As soon as you knock, you almost want to turn away. Maybe it was all an exaggeration. Plus, it’s not like he’s going to die from having butterflies in his stomach. Yeah, surely he’ll be fine and he doesn’t really even need you to—

“Come in.”

He wasn't expecting you, that much you can tell by the way his brows go up. But he’s quick to erase the confusion, settling with a fond expression. “Hey.”

“Hi,” you squeak before cringing at the sound. He chuckles, returning to his warm-up exercises. “How are you feeling?”

Another chuckle, this time amused. “Anastasia sent you, didn’t she?”

“What?” A beat. “No.”

He hums. “Tsk. I’m a bit nervous, that's all.”

You lick your lips, kicking your foot up against the doorframe. What could you possibly say that she hasn’t already? If she couldn’t ease him, then how can you? The thought of messing up and making it worse makes your stomach churn. 

“You’re going to do g—”

“Great?” He sighs, blowing his cheeks. “That’s exactly what she said.”

“And what’s wrong with it? She’s only trying to help.”

“No. I know she is, but…” He looks down onto his lap, pausing all movements. “Look, I appreciate you both. What you’re trying to do for me, but I can’t stand hearing what others think I want to hear.”

“It doesn’t do it for you?”

His eyes grow slightly wide with the way you go about and ask. He’s never seen you be anything other than sweet and reserved. But this—right now—is stern and very coach-like. Something and someone you aren’t. Not even close.

“It doesn’t,” he admits, finally looking away. “Never liked it. Always sounds too forced.”

You nod, crossing your arms. “Fine. I can tell you the truth. I can be truthful.” He perks. “Oscar, you’re a terrific driver.” He groans, covering his face with his hands. “But just because you’re great doesn’t mean you’ll be great all the time.” The Australian frowns, uncovering and looking up at you with attentive eyes. “You’re going to mess up. You’re going to be second, or third, or sometimes even twentieth, but that doesn’t matter, you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you signed that contract, so you sort of have to suck it up, either way.” He lets out a loud laugh. Very unlike him. A weak smile threatens to fall as you try your best to push it back. “There’s going to be bad races, but there’s also going to be very good races. It all depends on you and how hard you work. Sometimes you’ll have a good car, a good strat, and others you’ll have a shitbox and a bad strat. That’s just the way this sport works, okay?”

Oscar blinks slowly, as if trying to decipher who you are, and that itself makes you dizzy. “I-I-I don’t care if you’re nervous, I don’t care if you’re sure—all we care is that you drive that car, and that you try your best no matter what. Can you do that?”

It’s foreign. The feeling in his chest. He’s not used to hearing any of this. As of recently, everyones been texting him to say how great he’s going to be. How far he’ll go. And while he was grateful for having unconditional support, he also dreaded hearing it sometimes because he doesn’t even want to picture letting any of  them down. He’ll act like he’s fine, he’ll act like he doesn’t care—but none of that would be true.

The brunette tilts his head to the side, slightly squinting. “I can. I can always try my best. Even if I fall short.”

“Good.” A beat. “We all believe in you. No matter what, okay?”

A timid smile. “I know…”

He ends up having to retire the car by lap fifteen, but the most astonishing part is that he’s not even upset. He tried his best. He listened to every single advice his engineer would alert him with. He practiced long hours in the stimulator.

This is just the way things go sometimes. Just like you said.

-

“I’m bored. Can I get a ten minute break or something?” Lando grimaces, rolling his wrist like it's the worst pain in the world. 

You hum, fixing the signed hats back into the box. With eyes screwed, you shrug. “Fine. But only ten! I’m serious. We need to have this done by one.”

“Yes! Ten—got it.”

He doesn’t come back in ten. For the matter, he actually goes missing. 

You narrow your eyes towards the clock, watching as it clicks like some mockery. You’re going to strangle him. You vow at that very moment that you’ll strangle the Brit as soon as you lay hands on him. With one final huff of desperation, you stand up, rubbing your eyes. People frolic through the paddock—you’re sure you even catch a glimpse of Lewis being papped—but that’s not what catches all of your attention. 

Instead, you find yourself leaning against the rail, squinting down to where the man of the hour sits, microphones huddled all around him like some interrogation. Anastasia smiles politely, back straight, and voice-recorder in hand. 

It’s faint—you almost can’t hear a thing—but it’s just enough. 

How does it feel to be back home? Enjoying it, no?

Oscar hums, straight brows slightly furrowed due to the bright sun, but just one adjustment of his hat makes that all go away. “Feels good. I’m able to sleep in my own bed, so that’s pretty cool. And yes. It may be a bit biased, but I am enjoying my time here more than the last two races.” Everyone chuckles. 

Can we talk about your expectations for this weekend? 

You can see him pause, and from where you’re standing, the way his fingers drum against his chair. “Well, I, uh…I hope for a good car.” The joke is supposed to be there, but you can tell everyone was expecting more with the way they murmur to one another. You wince.

Will raises the microphone up to his lips, along with his hand in order to catch the brunette’s attention. “I’m sure there’s been lots of people reaching out to you since this is your first home race, but has there been someone’s advice that has stuck like no other?”

Oscar smiles gently. “There has been, actually.”

You freeze, gripping the steel bar with anticipation. Your knuckles nearly feel like they’re about to snap, and you feel like you’re probably leaning a bit too far over the edge to hear it all, but you don’t even care. Will chuckles. “If it’s not too much to ask, would you mind sharing with us all? I’m sure it’ll help a lot of youngsters watching.”

Anastasia slides the recorder closer. Oscar visibly swallows. “I’m not sure I can. I never asked her for permission to talk about it. And quite frankly, I’d like to keep it between us.”

Will perks up. “Her?”

The black-haired girl is quick to whisper into his ear, turning the opposite way so no one can even attempt to read her lips. He nods, eyes trained forward like some guard. “Any more questions?” But everyone’s intrigued at this point, so all the questions that follow remain the same. Something that makes Anastasia panic and Oscar regret his choice of words. 

“Can we get a name?” some blurts out, nearly seeming desperate to get the inside scoop.

Only, his face remains still, jaw slacked. “No.”

Will raises his hand. “Very well, we don’t have any right to know, but are you willing to share a bit about what she said?”

And it’s almost as if the Australian can foresee that the only way to get out of this situation is by giving them what they want. Even if it’s a stupid little crumb. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She told me to try my best. That’s all I can really do.”

The mix of photographers and journalists deflate. “I-I’m sorry,” Lawrence Barretto slides in with a light tone and an ever lighter smile. “Don’t mean to lessen its meaning, but isn’t that a common thing to say? To hear?” An awkward laugh. “I mean, I just thought it’d be something a bit more…deep. Inspiring, perhaps.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks and you’re grateful to whatever God may exist that you’re not down there. On the other hand, Oscar is a bit bothered by the innocent comment, but then realizes he doesn't have to be. They weren’t there. They don’t know just how much more you said. How upfront you were with him without sounding condescending. Something most people did without even realizing. 

The brown eyed boy spares a smile. “Like I said—some things I’d like to keep between her and I. And even if it was just that, it’s the way she said it.” A beat. “It’s quite a lavish thing to have. A sincere person to talk to, I mean.”

Will tilts his head suspiciously. “It appears she might be someone special to you, yes?”

The Australian freezes at the unwanted interpretation. Suddenly, the atmosphere is far too crowded. He lets out a forced chuckle, rolling his neck before messaging it gently. “Well, yes. I’d agree.” 

A mix of giddiness and shock rushes through your veins as you refrain yourself from jumping up and down with excitement. 

“You’d be lucky if you had her as a friend too.”

-

“Is everything okay?”

Biting down on the churro he had gifted you as an apology for not getting back on time, you growl. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Lando raises a thick brow. “Dunno. Maybe the fact that you’re moping.”

Your jaw goes slack, immediately turning to face him. “I am not moping.”

The sound he lets out indicates he doesn’t quite believe you, but is choosing to let it go. Also, he doesn’t want to see your patience run out, too scared of what you might do. The curly haired driver plops down onto his bed that stands in his motorhome, closing his eyes. You nearly envy the indifference in him. The lack of worry. 

“I can hear your teeth clenching. Gross.”

A grunt. “I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Need anything?”

“Only a nap. It’s a good thing you’ll be gone.” He turns over to his side, bringing your jacket over his face to block out any light. You bite the air, swinging silently for a minute or two before exiting the cramped room. 

The sun hurts, you remember thinking, but the upcoming migraine you’re getting is even worse. You should be used to this by now, given you’ve suffered from them since elementary, but based on the way you zig zag without meaning to is enough proof to know that you’re not. Everyone's voices are suddenly muffled, even the sound of engines roaring is as soft as a feather. You wince, massaging your temples as if that might help. 

Woah, are you feeling alright? 

“I’m fine,” you respond meekly, to who even knows. You wave them off rudely. “I’ll be fine. Just. Leave me alone.” 

Anastasia frowns, all while fanning your face. “No. You need to lay down.” She nudges the Australian, who up until now, you had no clue he had his arm clung around your waist. If you weren’t too busy feeling like shit, you’d definitely be making a fool out of yourself. Her green eyes fill up with worry. “I’m gonna go look for a paramedic.”

“You’re doing too much,” you slur, body letting loose and making the brunette shriek as he grips you harder, trying to keep you upright. 

A deadpan expression. “Oscar, take her back to your motorhome and have her lay down.”

He nods, hesitantly. “Y-yeah, okay. Okay.” Once she runs off like a headless chicken, you let out a dramatic gag. Sharp brows knit together with horror. “Do I smell bad?”

A giggle. “No. As a matter of fact, you smell rich.”

With his arm still wrapped around you securely, and warm eyes flickering from to you back to see where he’s heading, he grins, eyes crinkling. “Rich? That just so happens to have a scent?”

You purse your lips, wincing at the fact that your peripheral vision has gone completely dark. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I’m a terrific liar and I’m only stroking your ego for my benefit.”

Another chuckle. “Benefit? What benefit may that be?”

Tsk. “How else am I gonna get you to take me to bed?”

The Australian instantly chokes hard on a string of his own saliva, causing you to flinch at the loud sound. Loud to you, at least. He apologizes, but not before taking a glance down, like it’s the first time meeting you. 

As soon as you lay down on the miniature mattress, you release a groan. Even just having your eyes closed makes you dizzy. You let out a loud groan, kicking your feet against the cushion in desperation.

“That bad?”

“That annoying.”

And even though you can’t see him, he nods, internally freaking out, trying to think of ways to help. “Does this happen to you often?”

“Yes.”

He nods, sheepishly. “W-what do you normally do? You know? To help?”

Tossing over to lay on your side, you pinch your eyes, grinding your molars. For a minute, you sort of thought your teeth might crack. Everything about this situation was becoming unbearable. “My mom, she, um…she’d normally braid my hair. It helped sometimes. Others it didn’t.” Messy hair dangles over your face as you let you out a loud exhale, as if you were in the middle of releasing some demon. “I moved too much, she said.”

Oscar smiles, coming across like a faint memory locked in the back of your mind. “I-I-I can try…” Loopy eyes flicker up to face him, and he’s quick to scrunch his nose. The sight alone makes you breathe easier, though he doesn’t know that. Of course he doesn’t. “Only if you want me to…”

“You know how?”

“Sort of? When I was younger, I used to sit across from my sisters at the breakfast table. I was bound to learn a thing or two.”

The subtle proud smile makes your heart beat flutter, smitten at the insight to his childhood. You wish you knew more. Like what was his favorite show? Did he have any imaginary friends, just like you did? Or maybe his favorite superhero? But you swallow all those questions down your throat as soon as he kneels down next to you. The whiff of soft musk distinctively adds to your headache, but you’re too focused on him for something as dumb as that to matter. 

“Just…close your eyes.”

Taking one last glance at him, you comply, lashes fanning slowly before going completely dark. You can still hear him adjusting, you can feel him take your hair into his hands, but nothing makes you stop breathing like his touch that grazes your cheek. 

It’s almost ghostlike—doesn’t really stay on the same spot for too long—but you know it’s real. Long fingers calmly push strands of hair behind your ear, tranquility expanding over your body. The slight tickle it causes helps ease your pounding migraine, little by little. 

“Are my hands too cold?” he whispers, not trying to intrude, but at the same time, wanting to know. You twist, bottom lip jutting out. Not at all. Keep going. And he does. He ends up tangling your hair a bit, because as it turns out, he doesn’t remember much, but he’s sure to delicately fix his mess, brows drawn in with heavy concentration. 

As soon as your hair is back to flowing free, he relaxes, wincing a bit at the pain in his knees. Your hair feels soft. Just what he would imagine a cloud would feel like. For a second, he begins to wonder, who’s this really for? He feels like this might be soothing him more than you. 

Just then, his finger catches on a knot, and he freezes, stopping all movements. “Holy crap, I am so sorry, I—”

You let out a low whimper, but don’t do so much as bat an eye. You’re sound asleep. The brunette lets out a breath of relief, falling back to sit on the ground. 

Your face is a bit squashed—and you’re drooling just a tad bit—but for some odd reason, he finds himself admiring. You’re full lips. You’re lashes. God, even the way you breathe. He feels a tender smile itching, but it never truly gets to see the light of day, because before he knows it, the door is swung wide open. 

Anastasia stops dead in her tracks. “What happe—is she asleep?”

Oscar opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. He does this a couple of times, awkwardly turning to face you and his assistant, back and forth, back and forth. “She, um…just did. A minute ago.”

She pouts, scratching her head. “Weird. Usually when this happens it prolongs for at least ten minutes before it gets any better.” The green eyed girl sheepishly waves the group of paramedics away. A trail of sighs echo as they turn away. As soon as they’re gone, she gently shuts the door, then tippy toes towards the edge of the small bed. Neat brows furrow. “At least she’s feeling better, no?”

Brown eyes follow her gaze. “Yeah. At least.”

-

Lando ends up throwing—and according to him— “The World’s Coolest Jamboree”. You beg for him to call it anything but jamboree, but he’s too attached to it by the time he sends the last text invite, which so happens to be to the rookie driver. 

“Has anyone RSVPed?” you question over his shoulder. He’s in the middle of mixing some mysterious liquid, but by the looks of it, doesn’t look any good. You grimace. 

He lets out a bleh before dropping his utensils. “No one RSVPs these days. They either show up, or they don’t.” 

A slow nod. “So, you don’t know who’s coming?”

“Not a clue. But most likely everyone.”

You scoff. “How are you so sure?”

He gives you an ‘are you kidding me?’ type glare before sending a sly grin. “First of all, it’s my party. They’d be crazy to miss out. And second of all…it’s only the biggest, funnest, coolest jamboree!”

“Funnest is not a word.”

“And party-poopers aren’t welcomed.” You gasp, smacking his chest harshly. He lets out a snicker, picking up a bag of ice and spilling it into the glass bowl. “But I’ll make an exception. Just this once.”

“Just this once,” you mimic before dipping your pinky in. He instantly slaps your hand away. Smacking your lips, you let out a yelp at the bitter taste. “This tastes like ass. God—not even Daniel will drink this, and that guy drinks anything in his way. I’m surprised he hasn’t been accidentally roofied.”

Lando claps his hands with amusement. “God forbid. And please, pay your respect to Lando’s Best Worst Decision.” A beat. “™.” 

“™?” you deadpan. “What? Are you planning on adding a trademark to this sewage water?”

“It’s good, okay?” Mixing the clear liquid once more, he smiles fondly down at it. “And maybe. I’m seriously considering it.”

You sneer, already walking away.

He ends up being right. Not even an hour later, the party is in full swing. Sure, a couple drivers aren’t able to make it, but it’s still jammed packed. It's honestly a miracle to get through the Monaco flat. 

You’re still sober?

Laughing, you nod, raising your water up in the air like some toast. Daniel frowns. “Considering I have to make sure my number one client doesn’t make any bad choices tonight, then nope. Can’t have a sip of alcohol.” 

Brown eyes flutter slowly. “I’m sure there’s other beverage choices. Have you tried Lando’s Best Worst Decision?” He leans in, winking. “™.”

“Oh no. Don’t tell me you actually like it?” He shrugs and you shudder in disgust. “I’m sure I saw him add ten energy shots and God knows what else.”

“No wonder I feel kinda funky.” Your face drops. “Hey, if you pass out, can I crash tonight?”

“Daniel!” you groan, covering your face. “I swear, I’m going to spill that stupid drin—” Only, Daniel is gone. Craning your head, you circle the room. From where you stand, you’re able to see Carlos and Lando taking part in a heated round of pool, all while Charles sways back and forth, infamous red cup in hand.

Marching over to the kitchen island, you pick up the glass bowl and carry it over to the sink before tipping it over. You huff, hair fanning across your nose. 

“Stupid, stupid boys—”

“Hey.”

You shriek, dropping the bowl, and wincing at the sound of glass shattering. 

Oscar grimaces. “Shit. Sorry. Are you hurt?”

“No.” You sigh. “Lando’s gonna kill me.”

Grabbing the nearby broom, the Australian sweeps carefully while knitting his brows. “Why?”

“It’s a family heirloom.”

“A glass bowl?”

You giggle. “I wonder why too.”

Despite the blaring music, and constant chattering, the room feels rather silent. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, and that seems to catch his eye as it dawns on him that he hasn’t really seen you in anything other than your usual uniform. To be fair, you could say the same. He likes it. 

You clear your throat. “Halfway done. How do you feel?”

He sips on his water, jaw clicking before settling with a sharp tsk. “Good. I think I’m finally getting the hang of it. Anastasia even congratulated me the other day when I diverted a series of questions with ease.”

Impressed, you raise your brows. “Bravo. Wish that was the case with Lando. I swear, sometimes I think he does and says things to make me look bad on purpose.”

“He should stop,” he says with a goofy smile. “Does he not know how lucky he is to get to call you his assistant?”

You blush. “Best friend, actually. I’ve been promoted ever since I pretended to be his girlfriend last New Year's Eve.”

The brunette inches forward with curiosity. “Wish to clarify?”

You hop onto the island, fixing your dress and crossing your legs. “Don’t tell him that I told you any of this, but I secretly think he was embarrassed of not having a midnight’s kiss. Especially since his ex was there with her new boyfriend. Talk about the unexpected.”

His chest tightens. “You two, um…kissed, then?”

“Yes,” you confirm with a childlike grin, and for some reason, it makes him want to puke. “Oh God, I haven’t thought about this in forever!”

He pretends to find interest in the crowded room, but really, it all remains on you. “Was it any good?”

You blush this time and he swears he’s close to walking away. “Yes and no. I mean, it wasn’t bad, but it just didn’t feel right.”

He perks up then, floppy hair bouncing at the sudden speed. “Really?” He coughs, then fixes his watch, training his eyes towards the floor. “Erm, I mean, is that so?”

A nose scrunch. “It felt like kissing someone you’re not supposed to. Which I suppose is true. We’re better off as friends.” He relaxes. “Thinking about it, we might’ve gagged each other's mouths.” You grimace. “If that doesn't show our discomfort, then I don’t know what will.”

“Good to know.” Oscar rubs his arm, up and down, then steps closer to you. You blink. “Hey, I was meaning to ask—”

Strippers? I didn’t order any strippers. 

Hire, a male voice interjects. He means to say he didn’t—hire—any strippers. 

“Son of a…” You wince apologetically, to which he shrugs. Don’t worry. Go. Biting your lip, you nod, rushing to the living room, where Lando, Daniel, and a bunch of other randoms circle the almost nude girls with long legs. 

“I mean, I won’t turn you away, ladies,” the Brit mumbled, already wrapping his arms around their waists. They all giggle, inching closer until he’s a blushing mess. 

You snap your fingers, pointing towards the exit. “All of you need to leave.”

Is that your sister? the one with a cowboy hat whispers into his ear. He quickly shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at you like a deadly weapon. 

“No. That’s his girlfriend,” Daniel yodels, face pressed up against the couch, admiring the group of girls. “But they’re in an open relationship.”

“I’m not his girlfriend—”

“She’s not my girlfriend—”

Oscar’s jaw clenches, eyes focused on the entire commotion. The older Australian rolls his eyes. “Right. We don’t talk about it.”

“Would you stop trying to help?” you shoot back, sarcastically, and clap your hands as if you’re rounding up a new high school cheer. “I need you all out. You want money? Fine. He’ll give you money,” you declare, signaling towards Lando. 

“Hey,” he groans, instantly letting go and stepping closer to you. “They haven’t even done anything to earn it….”

Your eye twitches. “I swear to God—”

“Deal,” the redhead shoots out. “But we need a moment to come to an agreement. You know? On how much we want to ask for.”

“Perfect,” you chirp, rolling your heels. “Take out your wallet, Big Boy.”

“You used to be fun.”

“And you used to be terrified over a pair of tits when I first met you. Whatever happened?” Lando blushes profoundly before pushing you away. “Want them gone, Lando, gone!”

“Yes! Jesus Christ—let me deal with this.”

“I’m done,” you promise with your hands raised up in surrender. “But just remember what happened last time.” He frowns, cocking his head to the side. You wiggle your brows. “São Paulo.” 

Color drains his face before letting out an unhinged laugh and motioning you away. You giggle, heading back to where Oscar stands. 

“I see what you mean,” he announces. What? “How he can have a bit of a headache.” 

“See! I told you! Four years of this!” A dramatic yawn. “I’m tired.” 

A string of boo’s follow once the strippers prance out the door, waving all their money in the air. Specifically Daniel, who genuinely looks upset to see them go. Oscar leans down against the counter, the proximity between you becoming smaller. “You should get some rest, then.” But he selfishly doesn’t  mean it. He wants you to stay—to keep talking to him. 

You let out a snort, grabbing your sides. “I mean, I'm tired of being Lando’s assistant. It’s a full time job, y’know?”

“Oh.” He stands up straight again. “Right. Of course.”

You purse your lips, looking down to your shoes. “But that was actually quite thoughtful.”

She thinks I’m thoughtful, he internally swoons because that must be a good sign, right? Not everyone is thoughtful, but he is, and that must count for something. Gathering all the strength he has left—which is not much considering you blink up at him like some angel—he licks his pink lips. “Back to what I was going to say earlier before you left—”

“I wasn’t trying to step on him! I already said I was sorry!” you hear a familiar voice, instantly turning to find Anastasia kicking Daniel’s face back into place, well, since he now lays asleep on the floor. You curse beneath your breath, jumping off the island once again. 

“His head did a complete 360!” Yuki accuses, clearly panicked. “That's not normal, is it?”

“No, it is,” Pierre replies with a bored tone. “I’ve seen it happen before.”

Crouching down next to the curly haired driver, you jab his cheek before motioning Oscar and Anastasia closer. “Help me carry him to the guest room,” you instruct, already taking off your cardigan. 

The black haired girl is quick on her feet, grabbing the Australians right leg as you grab the left. Oscar, however, swallows hard at the amount of cleavage you’re suddenly displaying, but instantly snaps out of it when both you and Anastasia blink back at him. He picks up the Alpha Tauri driver’s upper body before puffing. 

You blush bright pink at the sight of his muscles pulsing against his t-shirt. “I-It’s just around the corner.” 

As soon as you make it into the room, you three carefully place Daniel onto the bed, to which he squirms before flipping over and snoring away. You motion a finger over your lips before pushing them both out. Gently closing the door behind you,you let out a breath of relief. 

Anastasia lets out a whistle. “Surprisingly not that heavy.”

Oscar scoffs. “Easy for you to say. I had to carry most of his weight.” 

She shrugs, hugging you hello and apologizing for being so late, and you’re quick to reassure her that it’s fine, though she missed the chance to see strippers give Lando a tough time. She sneers. “I didn’t even know there existed strippers in Monaco.” And then she’s off, clapping loudly at the sight of Lando giving out a round of jello shots. You sigh, rubbing your temples.

“I-I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”

He freezes. “Oh. Just that—” He panics. “Only that I like your shoes!”

You blink, deflating from within. But you try to cover it up with a soft smile. “Thanks, I guess?” Orbs flicker down toward your white Sambas. “Lando says they are overrated, but I like ‘em.”

He nods. “Yeah. I like them too.”

-

It happens one Friday afternoon—the decision. 

You’re in between races, you’re in between headaches, and you’re ready to self-implode. So, before any of that happens, you make your first decision. To go on a walk. 

It’s getting rather chilly these days, something you love, but also hate. You love it because there is a certain coziness that comes along with it, but you also hate it because you can’t always be cozy, so you’re left shivering. Much like now. But to be fair, this was your own choosing. 

The pounding that takes over your head lessens the longer you stroll, the longer you breathe actual fresh air. You don’t really think much, you mainly remain blank, but the sound of tires screeching rips you away. Squinting hard, you catch a glimpse of a lady with grocery bags flipping off the fellow driver, who shares nothing but an apologetic smile before driving off. 

“What happened? Do I have something on my face?”

Dusting your nose, then your cheek, you blush faintly. You instantly assume it’s the powdered donuts fault—the one you had gobbled up in a hurry during the drive back to the paddock. It was an early morning, and no one really made it on time when it came to early days, but you always did. And so did Oscar. So, a sleepy Zak gave you a wad of cash, and sent you two to the nearest donut shop. 

The Australian shakes his head, blinking straight ahead. “N-no, I was just checking my blind spot.”

That only makes you blush harder because in what crazy world would he be looking at you? 

A single nod. The car is quiet apart from the sound of his hands moving against the steering wheel, and the sound of the blinker clicking. It’s gloomy, too. You clear your throat. “I love it when it rains.” He hums, calmly, encouraging you to continue. “It just makes me happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You purse your lips. “I sort of wish I were home. That way I can snuggle near the window and fall asleep to the sound of light drizzle.”

The brunette quirks a brow towards the road. “That sounds nice. Like…really nice.” A pause. “Why can’t you do that here, though?”

Here—here means where you are right now. Here means this place that’s not home. Here is not close to being enough, but he doesn’t figure that one out. You blink, dragging your finger along the pink box sitting on your lap. “Trust me, I’ve tried.” A small shrug. “But it’s just not the same, y’know? There’s always something missing.”

He doesn’t waste a moment in asking. “What do you think that is?”

Taken aback by his inquiry, you let yourself surmise for a second or two before licking your lips. “Maybe a pup. To keep me company”

He semi-frowns, cocking his head to send you a deadpan expression. “A dog?”

Now it’s your turn to frown, sending him a glare. “What were you thinking?”

The red light lets him take focus on you. “Dunno. A boyfriend, maybe?”

You’re sure you’re nearly as tomato red as the light staring at you both. “What? You instantly just assume I don't have one already?”

He freezes. “Well, I, um…t-that’s not what I meant—”

“Look, I know I’m not a guys’ typical ‘dream girl’, but sheesh I’m not that unlovable. At least, I hope not, but now you’re making me second guess. I mean, your opinion must indicate everyone sees me as some sort of lonely widow.”

Oscar shakes his head, adamantly. “I don’t see you as such.” A slow pause. “A lonely widow, I mean. I find your words to not be all that true, really. You’re nice. You’re persevering, You’re beautiful. And you have a good heart.” The light translates back to green, and you’re freakishly thankful, that way he can’t see you burn up. “You could easily be anyone's dream. Whoever makes you think otherwise is a phony.”

It’s getting harder not to laugh—most likely out of skeptic shock—but you refrain. He’s simply being kind with you, but that doesn’t stop you from nearly going into cardiac arrest. His words should have been labeled with a warning. 

“Guess this world is filled with lots of phonies.”

He scoffs. “There shouldn’t be. Not when it comes to a girl like you.”

Your breath catches. “Os—”

All of a sudden, the car comes to a harsh stop, sending you flying, but not the Australian, who remains sitting up straight. An older man flips him off before riding off on his bike. You both breath hard, turning to face each other. 

“Are you okay?” he questions, voice laced with worry. 

You nod, slightly dazed. “I, um—yeah. Are you?”

A nod. “I didn’t even see where he came from.”

A weak laugh finally erupts. “Blame it on the poor innocent man— clever.”

Brown eyes soften. They flicker from your orbs back to your pouty lips. He’s only checking if you’re okay, of course. You send him a reassuring bow and he releases a heavy breath. 

“Guess I was too focused on my blind spot, once again.”

The next decision comes when you opt in to join your neighbor, Mr. Lennon, for a cup of tea after he finds you shivering. By that time, it’s raining hard, you're soaking wet, and it only makes sense to accept his kind offer. 

“Mint. To hopefully push back any upcoming cold. God, what were you thinking?”

You let out a laugh. “Not much. That’s why I was aimlessly roaming.”

“What about now?”

You halt, mug raised up to your chapped lips. “What about now?”

He smiles, softly, mixing his own tea with a heavy spoon of honey. “Did the walk help? Were you able to get the wheels rolling?”

Now you giggle loudly. “That’s not very nice! The wheels are working just fine, thank you very much.”

The light scent of pine trees enter the room as soon as he stands up to open his window, the sound of soft rain singing to you as some much needed therapy. “So? What were you pondering about out there?”

“I wasn’t pondering.”

“Walking alone in the middle of a thunderstorm?” A sore laugh. “Been there. Done that. There’s always something on someone’s mind when that happens. Which isn’t often, or usual, so that must mean you’re really stuck up on something.”

“Or someone,” you mumble beneath your breath. His brows dart up, and you sheepishly settle the mug down. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

You blink. You don’t really talk about him out loud. Not with Lando. Not with Anastasia. Not even with your own reflection. Everything has always remained with you. A place you knew to be safe because you made it safe. But Mr. Lennon’s eyes prove to you that he’s lived enough lives—enough scenarios—to maybe understand. Even just a fraction. He watches you visibly gulp. And he knows that look. The confusion, the yearning. 

“I’m in love with this boy.”

He hums, leaning back against his wooden chair. “There’s always a boy.”

You look down. “He’s a friend of mine, which makes everything much worse because I can’t ruin that. But for the first time in all my years of living…” Round, glossy eyes stare back at him with a hopeless expression. “I really—really—want to.”

He’s attentive, he listens like some frozen statue, and maybe that’s what fuels your courage to continue speaking. “My entire life, I’ve had crushes, sure, but I’ve never loved someone. Not seriously. So, of course I’m caught off guard when I do feel that for someone who I’m not even in a relationship with.” A playful snort. “God, I feel so stupid.”

The silence that lingers is comforting. Your nerves flow away with the rain, and you feel at peace. Quietly, he clears his throat. “Can I tell you a story?”

A soft sigh. “I’m all ears.”

Gray brows furrow as if trying to recover a distant memory. “I once loved a boy, too.” Your eyes widen. Sure, you knew he was never married, never even had a kid, but you never thought of any reason as to why not. He nods, faintly. “Not many know, and not because I’m ashamed, not by any means…” A single beat. “But because real, sincere feelings are easier to ignore. Because who wants to deal with reality, right? Who wants to confess and be turned away like some dog at your door?”

Exactly, you think, nodding along. “Everyone is always going to be scared of something, but avoidant people like us are terrified about the what-ifs.” He sends a wink. “And I’m living proof that being that way won’t get you nowhere. And you'll realize sooner or later in life that you’d rather be nowhere with someone you love, than nowhere…” His eyes circle the nearly empty kitchen, despite living there for the past twenty years. “...all alone.”

Your chin wobbles. “You know you have me, right? I’m always next door.” A wet laugh follows. “Anyways, I might even join you in this lonely life, eh? Doesn’t sound half bad if I’m doing it with you.”

Tender eyes close slowly before blinking back at you. “No. I want you to be the complete opposite from me. Be different. Tell him how you feel. Even if it costs you a broken heart, tell him. Because I’m telling you right now that a broken heart is always better than the constant desire that will always follow you like the devil.”

A warm droplet rolls down your cheek as you sheepishly laugh, but he doesn’t judge. He never has. Instead, ever the true gentleman, he hands you his handkerchief. “Did you ever get the chance to tell him that you…”

His wrinkles imprint more vividly as he breathes out. “I did, but it didn’t really make the difference I had hoped for. He was already married to someone else.”

A loud sob escapes. “That’s not f-fair. You deserve to be happy with the man you love.”

“I do. But you know what?” You rub the tears away, eyes connecting. “I’ve made peace with the consequences of my own actions.”

By now the rain has died down, and so have you. With one last smile, Mr. Lennon gives your cold hand a soft squeeze.   

“Learn from my mistakes, won’t you?”

-

That same night, as you cried over a bottle of wine, you made your third and final decision. And you would execute it all the next time you saw him, no matter the outcome. 

But now that you spoke about it once to someone, you felt almost invincible. Which is why you called Lando. 

You what? 

A wince. “You can’t tell him, okay? I’m legitimately trusting you with this!” He opens his mouth, but you’re quick to signal him off. “Including Ana.”

“Wow. I thought she’d know.” You shrug because you don’t really have an explanation for not having had confided in her, but you know deep down that you’re not really into playing a game of Cupid, and that’s exactly what she'd turn this into. The Brit nods, sympathetically. “Alright. I won’t tell a single soul.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you going to tell him how you feel?”

His question comes out hesitant—like he’s afraid of scaring you away from the possibility—but it doesn’t. Instead, you nod, to which he’s extra surprised because you’ve never been the kind to. “That’s the main reason I told you any of this. Because I wanted to ask you if you knew if he has a girlfriend or not? Someone he’s trying to pursue? I’d hate to…intervene.”

Lando let’s put a soft smile, dimples imprinting neatly onto his face. “I mean, he’s particularly private—you know him—but I’ve never heard him mention having a girl. It doesn’t seem like he does. Go for it. What do you have to lose?”

“My dignity? A good friend?”

Silently, he grimaces because even he can see how much this all means to you—how much you’re scared. So, to boost up your confidence—which is something he definitely doesn’t lack—he flashes a loopy grin. “He probably likes you, anyways.”

You come to a fast halt. Suddenly, painting your nails isn’t your top priority. “Really? You think so?” He nods, and you can’t help but smile back. “What’d he say?”

“Well, as I already stated before, he keeps his things locked up pretty well. But I do recall one time…” He closes his eyes harshly. Then, he snaps his fingers loudly. “I believe in Hungary. He was on a high. And we shared a bottle of champagne to celebrate. So, he sort of let loose. Like insanely loose.”

“And?” you push, eagerly trying to get whatever he has stuck in his throat out of him. The green eyed boy snickers. 

“He wasn’t very clear, but he did say he had a crush on a girl. Someone he really wanted to get to know. But that  things were a little bit difficult.” You nod, urging him to continue. “I asked why, and he said it was because she had a good heart, or something of that sort? Good intentions? Can’t remember—and that he didn’t want to ruin it.”

Your breath hitches.

And you have a good heart. You could easily be anyone’s dream. 

-

Ironically, you’re huddled in Lando’s flat once again when it happens. Well. Almost happens. It’s filled with a few McLaren members because he insisted on hosting a nice brunch. And it was. Nice, you mean. 

“Pretty,” Anastasia says, sending a soft smack towards your ass. You yelp, swatting her hand away, and pulling your skirt downward. She snickers. “You should tie your hair up more often. Let’s everyone admire such an angel face.”

“Stop it,” you hiss, but can’t hide the pink flush. “But thank you.” 

She grins, eyes crinkling. Black hair sways as she moves to the beat of the music, nursing her drink. “Nice to have a break…”

“Definitely.”

At some point, she slithers away, leaving you all alone on the balcony. Which was quite lonesome until he came along. Oscar scrunched his nose, meekly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. Don’t own this place, do I?”

He lets off a raw chuckle. Deeper than when you first met him, and you come to the realization that a lot about him has changed. His hair is longer, his neck is thicker, and his shoulders are wider. But his smile and eyes remain the same. Boyish.

“Thinking?”

You sigh, admiring the ocean set out right in front of you. “Thinking, yes. A lot these days.”

And if he’s patient enough, he’d notice the way your hands shake. Tiny vibrates, but still.. He’d notice the way you bite down on your lip, brushing it along the way. He’d notice the way you blink feverishly, like even the wind hurts. 

And he is. He is a patient person. So, he does notice. 

“Do you know what song this is?”

Brows furrow, deep in thought. And he’s quick to note that the ticks you had are coming to an easy halt. Mentally, though, you’re cursing yourself out because you do know. You do know the song that flows nicely into your ears, but simply having him next to you is what’s making you forget. How dare me have that kind of power over you?

“I know it,” you start. “But I can’t seem to remember right now...”

The brunette gently nods his head along to the beat. His eyes close, and his hair delicately tussles, and suddenly he’s the only thing you see. “Sex,” he says. You blush, ripping your gaze away before he catches you in the act. Oscar laughs. “It’s Sex by The 1975. How could I forget?”

“Oh yeah.”

The guitar screeches when the volume somehow gets louder, despite not being inside. “Would have killed me not to get it right. My sister listens to it all the time.”

Plump lips pressed together. “You have a sister?” But you know the answer to that question, of course you do. You’re a girl. You’ve done your research, even when you pinched yourself not to. 

He nods. “Three, actually. Talk about a headache, am I right?”

And it’s almost nostalgic—your laugh. Like it might be one he heard in his past life, but in his current one, can't remember. But it’s okay if he doesn’t because at least he knows he can learn it. And he has. 

“You look really pretty when you laugh that way. Insanely so.”

You can’t seem to register his words. The way they come off as soft and ginger as they could possibly get. As if he really means it. And for the first time since your first interaction with him almost two years ago—you sort of believe he might. 

“You’re just saying that?” you question as some test, does eyes challenging him into finally spitting out the truth. The same truth you carry. He shakes his head, taking a step closer.

“I mean it.” 

Like a sudden magnet, you two are hesitantly connecting closer and closer together before either of you could stop it. Not that either of you would. The Australian towers over you, almost caging you like some endangered species he’s afraid of slipping away and going extinct. 

You swallow, lashes fluttering, and he smiles at the sight—melts. You’ve always been reserved. Quiet. Shy. And so has he, so he can’t really judge you, but he’s willing to be different—just once in his life—to get what he’s been wanting for a long time now. 

His eyes follow your lips. Admires how plump they are. How they’re the perfect shade of pink. So, when he leans in and you don’t pull away? He thinks he might explode with the need to kiss you. One time. If he’s lucky, just—once. 

“You’ve always been my dre—”

“There you two are!” Anastasia cheers, zigzagging to you both as an apologetic Lando follows right after. By now, Oscar has jumped far away from you, and you’re left feeling empty and lost, blinking at an alarming rate. “We’ve been looking all over!” A hiccup. “What were you doing?” Your lips remain open but Oscar is the first to let out an awkward cough.

“We were just talking about…logistics!” He turns to you, sparing you a pleading look. “W-weren’t we?”

You finally come to, nodding slowly, eyes buzzing between the two McLaren drivers and your best friend, who wobbles from left to right. “Yeah, I….we—logistics, and whatnot.” A beat. “Doesn’t matter.”

He flinches, avoiding your doleful stare. Oscar forces such a bright smile—the kind that can’t go unnoticed by even the biggest idiot on earth—and nods in agreement. “She’s right. It doesn’t matter.”

Lando analyzes you, then his teammate, and wishes he had done more to keep Anastasia from barging in. But really, was this some sign? Maybe you were some delusional little girl who truly believed she had a chance with the boy next door. The one everyone wants, but only one will get to have.

And let’s face it. 

It was never going to be you.

-

You’d make an excellent detective in your next life, you’re sure of it. But for now, you’re just some brokenhearted assistant who mourns the death of her what-ifs. Someone who is really good at picking up on clues. 

It’s right before Christmas—right before Anastasia’s birthday party—and you’re curling your hair quite poorly. You daze off every now and then, you apply mascara almost zombie-like, and you’re dreading even showing up. Have you been avoiding him? Yes. Yes, you have. Have you been good at it? Only the best, if we’re being truthful here. And were you ready to face him without feeling the need to bolt? 

Nope. Not in this lifetime nor the next.

But still, you force yourself to finish getting ready because this isn’t about you. This isn’t about him. It’s about being there for your friend. 

Mindlessly, on the drive there, pouting in the back of the yellow cab, you click onto Instagram and the first thing you do is smile at the birthday post Anastasia had posted not even five minutes ago. You scroll, smile wider, and then come to a harsh pause. The kind that makes your throat close up. The kind that makes you stop breathing. 

The kind that lets you know—

You’ve lost.

His arms are tied around her waist, his head nuzzles between her neck, but you can still tell it’s him. His hazel hair can’t go unnoticed. Maybe to someone else, but not you. 

Then, as if all odds are against you, your feed refreshes and you’re left far more dumbfounded. 

She appears in most of his pictures because why not? It’s his girlfriend's birthday, it goes as expected. Museum dates. Pictures of them with each other's families. And you feel greedy like never before because—why couldn't that be you? 

Venmo or cash? You look up, making eye contact with your taxi driver who looks as tired as you are. You press your lips together into a fine line. Digging into your purse, you grab all that you have and jump out of the cab. 

It’s chilly out and the lights are beautifully hung, but it doesn’t do you any good. You just want to go home. Curl up in bed and die. Dig a hole—self-suffocate—who cares. And you’re ready to turn around, go back and apologize to Mr. Lennon for not doing better. You really thought you had it in you, but it just wasn’t enough. 

But then, the door swings open and Pierre curls a brow. Kika waves from behind “He thought you were some serial killer. He’s been watching too much Dateline.” The brunette scurries over, throwing her arms around you and takes a step back. “Come in before you freeze to death.”

But even that didn’t sound too bad. You sheepishly thank her, following the couple back in. A string of jazz cradles the warm lit living room and the scent of apple pie makes you inhale sharply. A giggle stirs up behind you. Anastasia grins.

“You’re here!”

All of a sudden, you hate her smile. You hate her laugh. You hate her entirely. But you also don’t. You can’t hate her smile. You can’t hate her laugh. You can’t hate her entirely. Because even though you feel like she owes you loyalty, that’s not really true. She had zero idea about your feelings towards Oscar and she won. Fair and square. That doesn’t mean you had to like it.

“Happy birthday, Annie.” Hugging her, you giggle against her ear when she jumps up and down, nearly knocking you two over. “For you. From me.”

She wiggles her neat brows, green eyes buzzing with suspicion. “Is it a vibrator again?”

You blush. “No. Even better.”

“Wow! Even better?” She rips the small bag open, eyes widened double in their size. “Oh my God, you got me the Mary Jane’s I wanted?”

“Well, you kept bugging me, and so I thought—”

“D'accord, je comprends. I love them, thank you.” Grabbing your wrist, she tugged you into the empty hallway, and you can already feel her buzzing with excitement. Your stomach churns. “I wanted to tell you as soon as he asked me out—I really did—but he insisted on keeping it between us two for a while, and I told him no, I had to tell you, but then I understood that maybe it was for the best, and I’ve always liked him—”

Every word makes you feel smaller and smaller because the light in her eyes gives it all away. She, too—much like you—is in love with Oscar Piastri. You shake your head, sharing a light laugh. “I totally get it. There’s no need to explain.” 

The green eyed girl visibly relaxes, shoulders rolling back. “I knew you’d understand. Oscar was right—you have a good heart.”

Ana, Yuki just spilled wine on your coach, Daniel rattles from the other side of the room, pointing accusingly towards his teammate who rubs the cushion with his Dior sweatshirt. She sighs. Be right back!

At that moment, you don’t care if you wind up with a deadly case of hypothermia, you simply walk out of the warm house.

“What are you doing? You’re going to get sick.”

Screwing your eyes shut seems to be the only answer to help your mending heart into not breaking completely. And fuck him—fuck him for sounding so goddamn caring. 

You turn with a soft smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Won’t really make a difference, I already feel sick.” You cough for emphasis. “See?” Oscar rolls his eyes, ignoring the poor excuse, and hands you his puffer jacket. You shake your head. Take it. “No.” He frowns. Why not? Rocks crunch with every step he takes. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“What? Borrowing a jacket from a friend?”

“Borrowing my best friend's boyfriend’s jacket.”

His stomach drops, rolling with a wave of anxiety as he tries to not show his uncomfort. “She told you?”

Your teeth grind harder. “That, and you both posted about a thousand pictures together. Wasn’t that difficult to understand what was going on.” A sore laugh. “I’m happy for you two, though. Really. I am.”

“You are?”

Sending a nasty glare that you tried to keep in for the life in you, you turn over to face him, nose rosy. “Yes. Over the fucking moon.”

He flinches. “Listen, about that day at Lando’s house. I-I-I was caught up in the moment. I shouldn’t have said what I said, o-or tried to kiss you—”

“You’re a phony, you know that, right?”

Another flinch. “I’m trying to apologize to you. I’m sorry. I feel bad, okay?”

Tears well up inside your eyes. Somewhere deep inside your chest, you feel a harsh sting, and still that doesn’t compare to his pity. You let out a scoff, crossing your arms. “You feel bad, for what? For messing with my emotions, or for getting with my best friend?” You poke his chest hard, but he remains as still as a brick wall, a pained expression mapped out. “Which one is it?”

“For all of it!” He grabs your face, making you freeze under his fire-like touch. “I loved you—God—I loved every inch of you. Your humor, your heart, your jokes that never land, the awkward giggles that follow afterward—everything. There was not a single thing you could do that could have pushed me away.”

“Then what happened?” you whisper, eyes tracing his pink lips, trying to enjoy his hands. They’re calloused, sure, but they’re by far the closest thing you’ve had, so nothing else matters. His breath hitches, soft eyes looking down at you in complete defeat. You grimace. “Why was I not enough for you to try?”

His hands drop. Brown locks shakes as he rubs his eyes, like this is all some part of a fever dream. Maybe it was. The Australian frowns. “I could ask you the same thing.”

It’s a slap in the face, and it burns like never before because you know he’s right. “I wanted to tell you!” A shaky breath. “I was going to tell you.”

Leaves rustle. “You were?”

“Yes,” you confess, nodding adamantly. “That day at Lando’s place—I wanted to tell you.”

The McLaren driver bites his tongue hard, blinking rapidly. “W-what would you have said?”

“That I loved you too.”

He can’t hide his pain just by hearing those words. He scrunches his nose. He nods robotically. And he keeps his eyes trained towards the ground, like he’s in the middle of solving a puzzle. 

“I really did like you. From the moment we met.” Finally, he looks up, round eyes searching for any sign of intimacy. If there’s any left—any you still save for him. “Do you remember the day we first met?”

“A little bit. Yeah.”

A second ticks by. “I do. Remember it all, I mean. Think back to it quite often.” He lets out a boyish grin, crinkles forming, making your heart flutter. “You took my breath away.” 

And as if humanly possible, despite the icy air, your cheekbones flush harder as you bite back a giddy smile. “You barely even noticed me—”

“You wore a white ribbon. Hair half up, half down. Denim overalls with your initials sewn onto them. Emerald earrings.” You blink, clearly taken aback by his polished memory. His eyes soften. “I’ll always notice you.”

-

Anastasia pecks the Australians cheek, giggling after each one. Oscar smiles, letting out a sheepish laugh. From the corner, seated next to Lando, you sigh sadly. The Brit bumps his shoulder up against yours. What’s wrong? But you must not have heard him, or you ignore him, but he, too, has eyes. 

“I swear I didn’t know a thing about them,” he whispers. “If I had, I would have warned you, you know that—”

“Lando,” you cut him off, voice weak and mellow. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.”

He frowns. “I know that, but—”

“It’s not your fault,” you repeat, this time more firm. He swallows, nodding hesitantly. With a soft laugh, you poke his ribs and he’s quick to let out a yelp. “Just want to forget, you know?”

Lando hums. “Understood.”

Anastasia clinks her spoon against her mug. The one you each painted differently in that one pottery class years ago. She grins. “I’m so glad all of you could make it, really, it means a lot.” Her eyes crinkle sweetly towards Oscar who traces shapes down her back. She blushes for him—the same way you do. “I feel like…I finally have everything I ever wanted.”

A string of oohh's echo the room, whistles ringing. She laughs, head falling back, and he lets out a single chuckle, rosy cheeks making everyone grow louder. Meanwhile, you stay silent, focusing on Lando’s shoes. The Brit winces, rubbing your shoulder awkwardly. 

Daniel yodels, raising his beer. “Well, in that case, I feel like I do too!” He hiccups, making Pierre and Yuki snicker. “A hot girlfriend, good ‘ol friends, and a nice pair of abs.”

“They are nice,” Lily mumbles, earning her a soft smack from Alex who rolls his eyes. 

Carlos cackles. “Me next—um, okay. A good team, my girlfriend, and…and—my hair.”

“Narcissist,” Lando whispers, trying to get a good laugh out of you. And it works. You giggle, muffling the sound with the back of your hand. Oscar perks up, orbs floating over to where you and the Brit whisper to one another, smiles only growing wider. His jaw clenches. Either way, you tune out all the constant chatter after hearing how Pierre was grateful for having a massive cock. 

“I really hope nothing changes between us.”

You laugh. “I think it might be a bit too late for that.”

The Australian scratches his shoes against the wet pavement. He agrees. He won’t admit it, but he agrees. Everything has changed. Timidly, he glances over at you, biting the inside of his cheek. His gaze burns—just like always—and you turn to face him.

By now your tears have dried, but your heartbreak still continues. Something deep inside tells you that it’ll continue for as long as you live. You despise yourself for letting any of this get out of hand. For letting your fear of rejection play a big part in losing him. He smiles.

“I love you, okay?”

You smile. “I love you, too.”

Your voice sounds sweet—just like honey. And if it’s a lie, just to make him feel better, then he’s a grateful bloke. He might not have your heart—not completely—and he might not have your hand in his, but he’s fine with that. Because he’s heard all he’s needed to hear. And he can live at peace.

Oscar grins, leaning down to kiss your cheek. It’s tender, just the way you pictured it. You smell like flowers, just like he had dreamt. He pulls away. “You can always talk to me. Whenever. I’ll always be there for you.”

“Thank you. But I won’t bother you too much.” His brows furrow, mouth opening to protest before you wave him off with a tired smile. “Don’t want to vent to you about…well—you.”

“What about you?” Anastasia squeals, making your jump in place. 

“What about me?” 

She rolls her eyes, theatrically. Oscar remains as still as a statue, enjoying the moment to admire you without having to explain why—all eyes were on you, after all. “Have you ever gotten everything you ever wanted?”

Wistfully, your eyes look up, connecting with the ones you know so well. You admire his boyish features one last time before looking down onto your lap and then focusing on Anastasia.

“No. But I once got very close.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious @notkaryna

[astonmartinii]

mamma mia | formula one social media au

drivers: sebastian vettel, jenson button and fernando alonso

what the hell is in the water in greece? why are pregnancy tests so expensive and why does seb name his vehicles like that?

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by maxverstappen1, aussiegrit and 803,450 others

location: greece

fernandoalo_oficial: had a great break in greece recharging the old batteries 🔋

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user1: old man who is this woman?

landonorris: who taught you to soft launch grandpa?

fernandoalo_oficial: hey! respect your elders

landonorris: you just called yourself old? and WHO IS THIS?

fernandoalo_oficial: none of your damn business kid

user2: why is he particularly dilfy lately?

user3: he's approaching silver fox territory i fear

jensonbutton: i see that greece was a popular spot for wold champions this break?

fernandoalo_oficial: i also saw, sad not to bump into you old friend :(

maxverstappen1: where was my invite ???

jensonbutton: cool world champions only

lewishamilton: excuse me?

fernandoalo_oficial: idk what to tell you it wasn't planned, me, jenson and sebastian just have good taste

sebastianvettel: i see mary goodnight was appreciated

fernandoalo_oficial: yes thank you for lending me your boat, huge hit with the ladies

sebastianvettel: very happy with my choice to get it deep cleaned before i got there

fernandoalo_oficial: first of all, i'm not dirty. second of all, thanks for the faith in my game big man

user4: i am so confused by this comment section I DID NOT WANT TO KNOW ALONSO FUCKED ON SEB'S BOAT ???

yourusername

liked by yourbff, oliviarodrigo and 1,340.987 others

tagged: yourbff

yourusername: (sober) brunch with a side of light baby daddy investigation

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user7: only y/n would end up in a mamma mia situation, stay strong

yourusername: omg i didn't even realise, but donna was always a bad bitch, so i will just be the same

user8: i can't believe i am watching a girl investigate her own baby daddies on the internet (i love this place)

yourbff: if we can't find the lucky men, at least they'll have a cool ass aunt

yourusername: all fun and games until you have to change a nappy

user9: i'm enjoying this saga, BUT, why can't we just wait and do a paternity test

yourusernmae: i still need to know them to do that... and being nosey is far more fun

user10: all i'm thinking is this girl has to have GAME for three dilfs in the span of like three days... RESPECT 🫡

user11: i am so invested in this... please be interesting people 🤞

jensonbutton

liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 401,330 others

jensonbutton: back on sky duty and bumped into a couple of familiar faces

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user12: who let these old men talk about their sex lives on a live broadcast?

user13: i am entertained tbf

user14: obsessed with both needing to reinforce the fact that they pulled in greece

user15: i need seb to jump in on this conversation ASAP

fernandoalo_oficial: not happy with you pinning all of my success on seb's boat mate

jensonbutton: was it all your charming personality?

fernandoalo_oficial: obviously

sebastianvettel: i can confirm that it's always all the boat

jensonbutton: is that a confession?

sebastianvettel: gentleman don't kiss and tell x

charles_leclerc: jesus christ and we're the generation ruining the sport?

jensonbutton: f1 has always been slutty, you guys are letting us down

maxverstappen1: clearly you guys are still active enough to keep up the reputation yourselves

sebastianvettel

liked by charles_leclerc, jensonbutton and 902,180 others

sebastianvettel: retirement is looking fun, glad to take mary goodnight out for her first spin

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user21: did he just say mary goodnight? SEB WHAT?

user22: omfg he is potential baby daddy two??

charles_leclerc: so seb got a bit too lucky in greece?

user23: CHARLES?

user24: i am losing my mind they were right, they are the baby daddies

user25: i knew as soon as she said a nando with a samurai tattoo

user26: @yourusername he's number two !!!!!

user27: @yourusername we found him, boat and all

landonorris: YOU'RE POTENTIAL BABY DADDY TWO SEB WHAT THE FUCK

sebastianvettel: i don't understand lando

landonorris: check your texts

user28: don't forget the others lando

landonorris: @fernandoalo_oficial check your texts (and forward it to jenson i don't have his number)

fernandoalo_oficial: okay?

yourusername: WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

user29: i think someone needs to check on her

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,509,600 others

yourusername: i hot girl summer-ed a bit too close to the sun, what do you mean the three dilfs were f1 world champions?

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sebastianvettel followed yourusername

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jensonbutton followed yourusername

note: AHHHHHH? idk if i love it or hate it? do i know who i plan on being the dad? no. but do i plan on expanding on this? yes. mamma mia chaos will return.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Older

This is for the @6esiree contest that they are holding! I hope you enjoy it, and even if it doesn't perform well, I am glad to have made something long! Word Count 3.5k Alastor x Gen Z Reader Based on Song Older by Isabel LaRosa TW: Sexual content, stubbornness, gen gap, age gap, tentacles, begging

Dying wasn’t the first thing on your list of exciting things to do. I mean, yes, you were a 23-year-old living in 2024, so of course, your will to live was low, but that didn’t mean you were ready for it when it happened. No, instead, death came hard and fast, all because you had some serious FOMO and a quite pitiful YOLO moment. 

One minute, you were having a great night out with friends, you had a handsome silver fox wrapped around your finger, and then the next thing, you woke to a red landscape of what you only assumed was hell. With your life, it made sense why ‘Hell’ was where you ended up. You died partying and sleeping with the older man, so it only made sense that this was where you would consequently end up. 

A deep sigh left you as you looked at the chaos around you. The only good thing you saw so far out of this event was that you didn’t have bills to pay anymore. It looked like as long as you played your cards right, you could get anything here without needing money. As that thought crossed your mind, an ad for redeeming sinners played on a nearby radio. 

The voice on the radio was alluring as all hell and had you questioning your life and undead choices. Not even five minutes into being dead, and you are already fawning over an older man's voice. It's good to know that living habits don’t die with you in the afterlife. 

Your resolve not shaken, you make your way to where the voice spoke of the Hazbin Hotel and find yourself at the base of a hill, looking up at a grand building with flashing lights. A shiver runs up your spine as you realize how powerful whoever runs this place must be. Maybe pretending to want to be saved would be well worth your time, then. 

Let’s get one thing straight here: you are no damsel; you may like your men older, but that doesn’t mean you need one. No, you are an independent queen who can do what she pleases. She just also realizes when to fold and when to hold her hand. Right now, seeking refuge from the fires and sex work was worth it; however, that didn’t mean you wouldn’t earn your keep all the same. 

While you thought about these prospects and made your way up to the door, you noticed it was open without you even having to knock. Pushing your head through more of the door, it was clear to see what type of establishment this was…a chaotic one. 

Just standing in the entryway, the sights before you were hilarious and intriguing. A cat at the bar grumbled as he watched a spider dance on the bar. A young lady resembling a lamb hurriedly tried to stop the provocative dancing while a gray woman yelled at the spider. A cyclops laughed hysterically while tossing what you could only imagine was a bomb. A small woman rushed around laughing and stabbing the air while a man who looked a little like the lamb girl walked through the room. 

The deer caught your eye the most, though, and it seemed you caught his, too, as he was the only one looking at you and your entrance. You two held eye contact, a shiver running up your spine. Oh, you definitely could get used to staying here. 

Nodding more to yourself than the deer man, you walked in further and cleared your throat, everyone stopping to look at you. With a slight wave, you smiled brightly and introduced yourself.  “Heya, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet ya,”

The room was silent, causing you to laugh awkwardly. As you slowly backed away, thinking maybe this wasn’t a great idea, the lamb girl came over and jumped on you. Holding your arms and bouncing, she spoke excitedly. 

“Oh my goodness, a new arrival! Hi, my name is Charlie. I am the hotel's owner,” She beamed proudly at the statement and motioned to the others all in the lobby area of the room, “And this is the Hazbin Hotel residents and staff! The cat is Husk, then Angel Dust, Vaggie, Cherri, Nifty, my father,” She leaned in and whispered, “Also known as Lucifer,” 

Laughing at your surprised face, she pointed to the deer man last. “This is Alastor. He is the hotelier; he helps me run the hotel! Was it his broadcast that brought you in?”

You shook your head at the information overload and laughed softly. Nodding to the question, you looked at everyone around. “Yes, I actually passed not too long ago, and as I was weighing my options on where to go, I heard the message on the radio.” 

Charlie beamed proudly at Alastor, who just smiled at you precisely as he had been this entire time. You couldn’t lie. He was drop-dead gorgeous. He was tall and fit, and if his voice sounded anything like how it did on the radio, you would be a goner for sure. He was an enigma and one you knew you had to be careful of if you wanted to make it out of this hotel with your head screwed on straight. 

“My my, I am quite honored my radio show was able to bring in a petal quite like yourself, dear,” He spoke so smoothly, and you knew right then how right you were; you were a goner. “I do hope you are staying here with us to be redeemed as Miss Charlotte wishes; I am eager to learn…more about you, miss Y/N.”

You swallowed thickly, nodding. Looking at the others, you laughed and began some small talk while they decided where would be the best place to put you. The conversations ranged from how everyone died to how people got here, and you learned more about how hell worked. Learning that Alastor owned many souls only made him more appealing and dangerous. 

As Charlie led you to your room, she made sure to inform you of the dangers of getting mixed up with Alastor. Being mindful of her warnings and the blaring alarms in your head that did not match the alarms between your legs, you made it a goal to avoid falling for Alastor at all costs. Oh, how wrong you were for that. 

Alastor had his eyes on you the minute he felt your presence near the hotel. You were unlike any other woman he had seen. You looked young and still full of life, so how could someone like you have died so carelessly? Not to mention, he did find you oddly attractive, and your calm demeanor was refreshing. He wanted you and in more ways than just your soul.

He knew the best way to any woman's heart was to court her and get her to fall for him slowly till she needed him and him alone. However, you were a tricky one to get under the skin of. You were so damn stubborn and stuck in your ways of being the lead in your own life that allowing him any control seemed futile. However, the challenge you possessed was all the more thrilling to him. 

It started off simple: He escorted you around the hotel. He wanted to lead you around like a gentleman, but you had your own plans. As he talked and explained a specific part of the hotel, your attention was elsewhere in your explorations. 

“Y/N, dearest, are you even paying attention?” he asked you sharply as you looked at the paintings for the millionth time since your arrival. You really wanted to listen to him, but this was kind of boring. After becoming close with the others, you were eager to hear more about their lives than be trapped with the man you swore not to sleep within this proximity to you. 

“Sorry, Alastor. Yes, I am listening. I was just wondering about some of the paintings; they are quite pretty.” You were honest, at least in the fact that you enjoyed the paintings. Someone had a knack for art, and you were not shy to admit it. However, when you soon learned it was he who chose all the art minus a handful, you quickly shut down your praise. 

The next time Alastor tried to win you over and claim your soul was when he began opening doors for you. He never thought the day would come when he saw someone challenge him so brazenly. However, that was probably the day he fell in love with you, as he allowed it to happen.

“Uh…Alastor, what are you doing?” You looked at the opened door with your arms crossed, your body still midstep from when he raced ahead to open the door. 

“I am being a gentleman, Miss Y/N, that is all.” He looked so innocent, but you had heard more stories and learned so much about him from the shadows. He was no innocent man but a cold-blooded killer. You wouldn’t lie, though, that his past and present only made you that more attracted to the idea of him. You wanted him biblically, and it only made you hate his advances more, as you didn’t want to lose your soul. 

“No, thank you, Alastor. I can open my own doors.” You quickly took the door from him, closing it and reopening it before walking through. The look on Alastor's face was akin to pain and frustration. He was not a fan of your independent attitude and was willing to bet he could break you before the year ended. 

Alastor resorted to making sure you always walked on the right side of the road, that your chairs were pulled out for you, and that your food was pre-cut; he even went out of his way to acquire a simple ruby necklace for you to wear so others knew you were accounted for. However, you were stubborn and not taking on his advances. All you would give him was that Cheshire grin and stubbornly push his buttons by mimicking his chivalry with your version. 

When it came to Alastors courting skills and all his advances, you managed to turn them down in the same stubborn way. However, it didn’t go amiss by Alastor that each turn down went from cold and distant worry to more playful and light-hearted jests on your part. Was it possible you were falling for him, too? 

He admitted to himself a while ago, just as you had that the immediate attraction you two felt despite the age and generational gap was mutual. He didn’t know how to break you while you were too worried about becoming his next meal, even though the way he wanted to eat you was not how you were thinking. 

That was until one fateful day when the hotel was barren except you two. You had sat perched in the library reading some trashy romance novel, hoping to get yourself off while Alastor was busy with his work. Busy working till his shadow happened to inform him of what you were reading. 

The book you had chosen was interesting in that the main female lead was a time traveler who managed to end up in the olden times as a helpless damsel needing a strong man to care for her—the complete opposite of what you were as a person. However, you wouldn’t lie that the thought of letting Alastor take care of you wasn’t electrifying; it just went against everything you stood for. 

However, reading the book and getting to the more intense sex scenes where the woman is restrained and taken care of sexually only caused you to feel more of a heated desire for the man who had plagued your thoughts since you made eye contact with him all those months ago. Sighing deeply, you flipped to the next page and moaned softly at the words, wishing it to be you. You wondered how long your and Alastor’s game of cat and mouse would play out until one caved.

Alastor entered the room and looked over your shoulder. He was enamored with you rutting into your leg as you read the heated pages. He smirked as a tentacle wrapped around your throat and pulled your attention up from the book to his eyeline. “My dear, what do we seem to have here?” He practically purred, and you whimpered softly. 

You were already so close to release on your heel that you didn’t realize the pleas coming from your lips. You needed an older man badly; you needed Alastor—someone who would worship your body. As the pleas left your lips, it didn’t take long for Alastor to pounce on you, his pent-up desire for the independent brat growing. 

Alastor wasted no time and already had your sleep shorts pooled at your ankles,  ratty nightshirt hiked up your back and drooping off one shoulder. Your inner thighs were slick and glistening with arousal from your earlier menstruations while reading.

 Alastor hummed in amusement, bending you over the couch, his cold tentacles holding you in place as he moved down your back. His soft breaths tickled you as much as they excited you. He hummed as he saw your pussy in full view, a smile growing on his face. He touched it softly, slick coating his hand as he spoke, “My dear, you are already soaking; you were thinking about me, weren’t you? Thinking about me taking you just like that man does in that book.” He smiled wider, lining his face with your slick. “All you had to do was ask, beautiful.”

A tender hand pushes down on your back, further squishing your chest into the soft plush of the couch arm, his other hand grasping firmly at the fat of your backside where Alastor’s face is lapping at your dripping cunt. Soft mewls cry from your lips, hands reaching back to grasp his head, fingers tangling through the soft red and black locks, being mindful of his ears. He only grunts in response as he continues his onslaught on your most sensitive area.

What felt like minutes and hours at the same time passed; your legs were trembling, knees threatening to buckle under you with three orgasms already coaxed out of you on his tongue alone, milking you of your sweet, slick nectar. Your quiet, strained cries did nothing but aid the tightness in Alastor’s dress pants, his cock oozing arousal in his boxers, dampening the fabric beyond. Every involuntary shift of his hips causes more friction and tension with the fabric, sending a groan throughout your pussy.

Alastors noises vibrate against your cunt, shocking your overstimulated and oversensitive clit. All you can do is cry out as he pushes himself deeper, closer. his tongue is merciless and selfish as he threatens to swallow you whole. At this point, you're begging for him to relent, repeated pleas of his name falling from your lips as the familiar heat builds in your core, and you writhe under his hands. The cold slick of his tentacles digs into your skin as he takes hold of your ankles and wrists now to keep you open. 

Everything becomes overstimulating as the world begins to spin. Your jaw goes slack, and saliva pools in your mouth as it threatens to spill over your swollen lips. Tears are streaming down your flushed face, your hair is frizzy, and your eyes are practically rolling to the back of your head as yet another release washes over you, sending a shudder through your body.

Alastor finally pulls his face away from the space he has claimed as his between your thighs, not without flattening his tongue over your cunt for a last taste gathering all of you he could. The tentacles held you tighter as he smirked and sat upright, admiring the mess he had made of you. A slick shimmer on his face as he licked his lips, “Delicious, better than any venison I have ever had, dove.”

As he stands up, his hand on your back pushes you back onto the couch arm. He kneaded the flesh of your backside, groaning at the sight in front of him. His hands meet your hips, pulling you back on his clothed erection. A small yelp escapes your lips at the friction against your sensitive area. Your frayed nerves against the soft material that soaks up your arousal and previous releases. 

You whine as he rocks his hips slowly, grunting as he watches the material dampen quickly before he pulls away from your hips. His movements are hasty, and he does not waste any more time as he uses more tentacles to help not only hold your wiggling form but also get his clothes off him. He liked this sight of your half-dressed attire as he held purchase over you, dominance you refused till now to give up.

Once he was undressed, he bleated softly at the warmth of your puffy, swollen folds as he rubbed his cockhead up and down your pussy before catching your willing slit. He groans at the tightness that welcomes him; the slick, clamping, spongy walls that pulse around his dick almost milks him of every last drop of cum. 

Your voice is hoarse, almost gone by the time his cock is sheathed in you, his cockhead brushing your sweet spot as you feel him abuse your need for him. You can feel every prominent vein of his cock against your spongy walls; they're practically ingrained in you as your pussy is molded to take his dick.

A creamy, white circle forms at the base of his cock as he pushes his length inside, his girthy dick stretching your weeping pussy with loud, lewd squelches. He doesn't give you time to compose yourself. He's selfish tonight, unapologetically so, because you had been toying with him for too long. After almost a year of cat and mouse, this is finally how he takes you. You drove him mad.

It isn't long until your backside is red, his hips pistoning into your sopping cunt, the sight of your slick pussy swallowing his red, angry cock so needily, sucking him in so desperately and clamping around him was addicting, and the feel even more so. His pace isn't lovely; he's mean, relentless, and bruising.

"Fuck sweetheart, so needy for me; you could have just told me how much you wanted this from the get-go. Saved us both precious time," he whined in your ear, his cock drilling into your tight hole as he nipped at your earlobe. Claws out, he uses his hands, kneading the fat of your ass, a sharp slap to your skin causing it to turn even more flushed and red as he fucked himself stupid using your cunt.

He was growing more and more pussy-drunk, drool forming in his mouth and pooling in his permanent smile, leaning over to place his lips onto the expanse of your shoulder. He pressed lewd, wet kisses against your supple skin, adding to the marks and bruises from his teeth as his demonic form began to take precedence.

With how hard he was holding on to you with his hands and tentacles, you were covered in bruises. He was marking you as his not only with chivalry and jewels but pretty marks that will mar your skin for weeks. He tightened his hold around your throat, pulling you up to a sitting position. He pumped into you harder, watching your stomach grow with his length in you. He groaned heatedly as he transformed more; his hand was pulling you up while his other hand began pushing down on the spot on your belly where he was poking through. 

As you both whined and felt relief, he growled in your ear, “I will make you all mine, my Doe. Not a single person can have you now.” He pushed harder for a few more pumps before you two were spilling over one another. He filled you to the brim, his seed spilling out before he could even pull out of you. With a satisfied hum, he let his body slowly return to normal as he slid out. 

You were fucked out beyond belief. He smiled, gently picking you up and placing your clothes back on you. He held you in his arms and sighed, acting as if he didn’t just release eons of pent-up sexual tension on you. He snapped his fingers, redressing, and walked with you in his arms to his chambers. There, he would repeatedly remind you who you now truly belong to. Soul or not, he was the one to dominate the disobedient brat you were.

[lipglossanon]

Shimmer

Leon S. Kennedy x Fox Fem!reader <one shot>

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, very little world building, smut a plenty 😆, Leon POV, hybrid reader, teasing, flirting, kissing, dirty thoughts, dirty talk, nipple play, oral (f receiving), breeding kink, mommy kink, unprotected sex, creampies

not proofread ✌️ just a smutty hybrid au

title from Shimmer by Fuel

Leon couldn’t believe his eyes. You wind around the trunk of a tree, bright eyes locked on him as a little smile hovers on your lips like a secret. He swallows, tracking your movement, tenebrous colored tail flickering in and out of the tree line. He didn’t know he’d see a pretty little fox this far out. 

Leon planned for his four day weekend to be a relaxing hike in the local mountains, camping for a night (maybe two), and then heading back home to veg out in front of the tv before the next work week starts. He’s been out here in the forest for a few hours now and finally found a place to bed down for the night when you appear. A gray fox isn’t as common as the red, but he’s heard people in town talk about the few that have been spotted out here in Arklay. 

Leon doesn’t consider himself a hardcore outdoorsman, but he at least knows enough about the local wildlife. The closer you get to his little campsite the more enraptured he becomes; you’re absolutely captivating. His fire crackles and keeps him warm despite the chill permeating the night air; he’s afraid to move once you take a graceful seat on the opposite side of his fire pit, flames highlighting the hollows of your face. 

“Hi,” you smile, sharp little fangs glinting at him. 

“H-hi,” he croaks, throat dry so he tries to clear it.

“Camping, hmm?” Your gaze lazily drifts to his tent and satchel before landing back on him. 

“Yeah, needed a break,” he shrugs, hands clasping together to give them something to do, “you live near here?”

“Now why would I tell a stranger where I live?” You laugh, a throaty sound that makes Leon’s blood run hot. 

A flush overtakes his cheeks, “Sorry, I-I’m just making small talk.”

You laugh again, tail shifting to drape across your lap, “You’re cute. What’s your name?”

“Leon. What’s yours?”

He listens as you answer but his eyes can’t stop darting between your perked ears and soft tail. 

“Do you want to pet me?” You grin, tail swishing back to your side. 

“What—no, I mean, maybe,” Leon’s sweating bullets, mesmerized by you but also terrified you might rip his throat out with your sharp little teeth.

Smiling even broader, you stand up and make your way to him, folding down into a crouch in front of him. This close up, Leon quickly takes in your facial features before noticing the small black collar wrapped around your neck; his eyes trace down the modest sundress to your bare legs and feet. 

“Aren’t you cold?” He murmurs, blue eyes roving back up to your curious gaze. 

“No,” you smile, “but I’ll be sure to let you know if I am.”

Leon blushes and you look delighted, kneeling closer to peer up at him. 

“You’re pretty far out for camping, little Leon,” you fingers graze over his jeans, sharp nails making his pulse race, “aren’t you scared you’ll run into some big scary animal?”

Swallowing, he shakes his head no, “I-I brought bear mace and I’m sticking to the game warden trails.”

He watches your head tilt as one of your ears flick back, listening to the dark forest behind you. 

“Hmmm, you should be safe enough then,” your smile returns and Leon feels your tail brush across his arm, “want to see how soft it is?”

With hands steadier than his heart, Leon carefully strokes over the soft fur. It’s more silver than grey with a streak of black that ends at tip of your tail. Some white highlights catch his eye as his hand softly glides down the length. 

“It’s lovely,” he murmurs, dazed eyes coming back up to lock on your bright ones. 

“Thank you, Leon,” you purr, flicking your tail away behind you, ears perking forward, “you’re no slouch yourself.”

You let your nails brush across his sandy blonde fringe before pulling away. Leon doesn’t know what it is but he’s so drawn to you that his defenses are completely down. So he makes no move to stop you when you drag those sharp claw tips across his scalp and down his neck. 

A low groan slips from his mouth and he jerks away, an embarrassed blush crawling up his neck. You laugh and inch closer, hands moving down to skate up his jean clad thighs before resting on his chest.  

“Little Leon,” you coo, “are you feeling flushed? You look red.”

“I’m,” he coughs, trying to cover up his nerves, “maybe I’m just too close to the fire.”

“Do you need help to your tent?” You hold his gaze, your little grin showing off an incisor, “don’t want you to pass out.”

Your fingers drum across his pecs and he has the intrusive thought of you ripping into his shirt to tease his nipples. Biting back another groan, he nods jerkily. 

“I should probably lay down,” he clumsily stands, watching as you easily stand next to him, hands hovering over his shoulders. 

“I’ll help,” you take his arm and guide him the few feet away over to his accommodations for the night.

Pulling back the flap, you help Leon ease down onto his knees so he can kick off his boots before placing them inside next to the opening. Before he can thank you, you crawl in next to him, tail brushing across him as you splay out on his sleeping bag. 

“Comfy,” you pat the space next to you, “come lay down, Leon.”

His cock twitches in interest and he quickly zips the tent closed; the light glow of the fire can still be seen through the mesh. Moving over to you, he copies you, lying on his side with his head propped against his arm.

“Figured you might like some company tonight,” your eyes drop down to his mouth, “don’t want you to feel scared.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, pulse thundering in his neck as you shift closer, legs tangling with his. 

“Maybe,” you murmur, lips ghosting across his, “you should get comfortable for bed.”

Without any other prompting, he quickly shucks off his jeans and socks before taking his shirt off just leaving him in his briefs. His cock sits half hard against his thigh and he watches as your greedy eyes take him all in.

“Mmm, not bad,” you grin at him, tail waving back and forth behind you. 

He settles back where he was and you move into his space, lips kissing across his jaw before pressing softly against his own mouth. With a groan, Leon lets your hot tongue lick into his mouth, hips rolling forward until you finally push him on his back and lay atop him. You break the kiss once to stare down in his face while you rock your wet little cunt against his bulge before lapping at his parted lips. 

Kissing you messily, Leon can’t stop from moaning and groping your ass through your sundress. The hard press of your nipples against his chest makes him grind against the apex of your thighs even rougher. Pulling away, you raise up into a sitting position over his lap. Your sharp nails tease across his pink nipples and his whole body jolts like he got an electric shock. 

“Oh, Leon,” you grin. 

He feels powerless while your fingers pinch and tug his stiff buds until he’s mewling and rocking up into your ass. Hands grabbing onto your thighs, he presses your dress up until he can see your bare cunt coated in clear slick that makes his mouth water. 

“Sit on my face,” he pants, “fuck, sit that fucking chubby pussy on my face, please.”

“What a dirty boy,” you lean forward and bite his nipple. 

Leon keens in his throat, a sharp high noise he’s never made in his life. Fuck, he thinks he might cum from just you abusing his nipples. His eyes flutter as your wet little mouth decides to suckle and tease his swollen buds; your sharp teeth scraping across them has his cock weeping precum, staining his briefs. 

“I-I’m gonna cum if you keep that up,” he finally gets out, hands tangling in his own hair, “fuck, please baby, sit on my face.”

“I guess since you’re being so good,” you sigh, sitting up to pull your dress up and off, nude body coming into view for the first time. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathes out, eyes sweeping down your body. 

Your ears twitch and you smile, “You’re so sweet, Leon. Now sit back so I can ride your face.”

“Please,” he whines, helping you crawl up his body.

As you move, Leon shimmies his briefs down and off his legs. Your knees then rest on either side of his head and you gently sit your fat dripping cunt down onto his face. With a moan, Leon’s lapping and sucking up all of the slick coating your pussy lips, tongue running up and down your slit. Settling more of your weight down, you relax against him and he humps the air, cock drooling everywhere as he licks your pussy. 

“So good, Leon,” grinding your cunt down on his mouth, he flattens his tongue letting you rut against the slick muscle. 

He moans, hands cupping your ass to keep you from moving off of his face. Even if he suffocated, Leon would die a happy man. Chillbumps race down his body when your tail brushes over his chest and stomach. The soft fur of your tail eventually drapes itself over his stiff and leaking cock making him lap eagerly into your cunt, tongue fluttering against your pussy walls. 

“Right there,” you purr, nails carding through his hair and scratching at his scalp, “suck on my clit and I’ll cum all over your pretty mouth, Leon.”

More precum leaks from his slit, cock so swollen it aches. His eyes shut in an effort to control himself, control his thoughts before he cums all over himself like some virgin. You rock and grind down on his tongue, low moans filling the tent as he laps along your clit before sucking it into his mouth. Keening, you press your bodyweight down, making sure he stays suckling your swollen bud until your orgasm finally overtakes you. 

Leon moans just as loudly as you do, drinking up your slick like he’s a man dying of thirst. You undulate in place until the overwhelming feeling of his mouth has you shifting back down into his lap with a pleased little hum. 

“Fuck, you taste good,” he rasps, eyes blown out as he takes in your relaxed posture.

“Glad to know,” you tease, running your hands down his pecs and across his puffy nipples. 

He lets out a low hiss but doesn’t stop your touches. Your soft hands drift down to the thatch of hair at the base of his cock before sweeping down his thighs. 

“Finally,” you sigh, one hand slowly stroking his dick while the other cups his balls, “a nice fat cock.”

Said cock jerks and leaks even more into your palm, balls throbbing as Leon watches you play with his dick. 

“Fuck,” he whimpers, slowly rocking his hips up, “you like it?”

“Mm hmm,” you purr, “I’ve had lots of men over the years, but you have the prettiest cock I’ve ever seen.”

A spark of jealousy lights in his chest but it’s washed away by the twist of your wrist around his tip making him lose all train of thought. 

“I’ve been looking for someone like you,” you whisper, eyes flashing, like it’s a secret— Leon supposes it might honestly be, “someone to mate.”

His cock kicks, a glob of precum dripping over your fingers where they’re wrapped around his length. You use the sticky wetness to glide your hand more easily up and down his dick, slowly jacking him off. He groans, hips pumping but you only loosen your grip with a sly little grin. 

“Please,” he murmurs, “it hurts.”

“Does it?” You pout, hand softly massaging his sac before tracing the seam down to his taint, “poor little Leon wants to cum?”

“Uh huh,” he drops his head back with a broken moan, “please, w’nna cum for you.”

“Oh?” 

The way your voice piques with interest has his gaze lasered back in on your face. Your attention is focused on his cock but he sees the want sitting as heavily on you as he feels.

“Since you’re being so sweet,” your eyes flick to his and you hold the connection as you rub his cock over your slippery clit, mouth dropping open to pant. 

“God, you feel so good,” he grunts, hands grabbing your waist, thumbs digging into your hip bones, “please, please.”

You press his cock against his stomach and glide your soaked cunt up and down—the world's most torturous pussy job he thinks dazedly. His tip leaks so much there’s a small sticky puddle of precum forming on his stomach as your slick coated pussy lips part around his cock, hole dripping and rubbing against him. 

“You’re going to stretch me open so much,” you coo sweetly, tail swishing excitedly behind you, “hope you don’t cum too soon.”

Before Leon can even argue, you tilt his cock up and sink your pussy down on him; he knows he’s gripping you too hard, but he can’t let go when your hot little cunt’s sucking him in so agonizingly slow. 

He’s babbling too, but fuck if he knows what he’s saying; whatever it is, you don’t mind since you’re giving him that same throaty laugh from earlier that makes him wanna spill deep in your greedy hole.

It feels like a lifetime before you start to bounce on his lap, pussy squelching deliciously, making his mouth flood with saliva knowing what you taste like. The pace picks up and before he can blink, you’re riding him rough and fast, pussy clamped down on his cock like a vice. 

“I’m gonna cum,” he grunts, hands going to your hips ready to pull you up and off so he can spill all over your pussy.

He feels like a fucking teenager, not able to hold back on cumming inside your pussy like he’s never fucked a woman before. Hybrid pussy must be something else, he thinks dizzily, cock throbbing as your slippery walls pulse and throb around his thick length. 

“Cum inside,” you moan, nails digging into his forearms so harshly blood runs down his arms. 

The pinprick of pain makes him buck up harder into your spasming hole. His brain fizzes in arousal, dick buried balls deep in your soaked cunt. 

“Can’t,” he gasps, “fuck, what if you get pregnant?”

His cock thickens at the thought, balls tight against his body, at the hint of knocking you up. You laugh, that throaty sound that makes Leon throb, and you grind harder down on his lap. 

“Then mate me, little Leon, spill your seed deep inside and give me kits,” your lips spread in a smile so wide your fangs show, “breed my pussy like your cock’s begging you to.”

“Oh god,” he whines, “I-I can’t,” but he doesn’t stop himself from fucking into your pussy harder and deeper, balls aching to shoot his load.  

“Aww you can’t?” You mock, guiding his hands up to grab your breasts, “can’t fill my cunt with your thick cum? Can’t breed a wet pussy that wants it so bad?”

He’s losing the battle. It just feels too good inside your fluttering walls while he rabbits his hips against yours, cock stuffing you on every thrust. He squeezes his hands until your tits spill over his fingers, nipples hard against his palms. 

“Make me a mommy, Leon,” you croon, voice saccharine sweet in his ears and he nods before even realizing what you’ve said. 

“M-mommy?” He slurs out, body flushed and overheated as he fucks up into your cunt. 

You giggle and lean forward, “Mm hmm, you like mommies, Leon?”

He gasps, eyes rolling back as he leaks heavily inside your hole, “Ye-yes. Love mommies.”

“Good boy,” you murmur, dropping a dizzying kiss to his lips and he chases your mouth with a moan. 

“Mommy, want you to be a mommy,” he babbles out, brain complete mush now from the arousal, “want you to be my mommy.”

“Ohh?” You sigh gustily and lean forward more, pressing your breasts into Leon’s face. 

Taking the hint, Leon’s hand shift down to your ass so he can mouth and suck at your tits, licking and suckling your nipples as he thrusts sloppily. 

“Mommy,” he murmurs, tongue lapping at the soft skin of your breasts before sucking a nipple into his hot mouth. 

Whining, his eyes flutter shut. If he breeds your cunt, you’ll leak milk from these gorgeous tits. He moans loudly, the thought turning him on so much he can’t stop sucking your nipples. He pumps his hips up into your soaked cunt, feeling you drip slick down his cock to drip off his balls. 

“So hard, Leon,” he distantly hears your voice, “being such a good boy for me, fucking your mommy so good.”

Mewling against your breasts, he bites the puffy bud in his mouth, tongue lashing against it until you’re squeezing and rocking down on his dick. He could fill you to the brim, bust his load deep in your pussy and keep you on his cock til it takes. Eyes rolling in pleasure, he swaps to your other breast, mouth greedily suckling the hard nipple into his mouth. 

He pulls away, mouth brushing across the stiff peak as he looks up at you, “Mommy, gonna cum for you, gonna cum so hard in your pussy.”

“Good boy,” you smooth back the sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead, “if you fill me up you can keep me, a mommy all to yourself.”

His eyes drop to your collar and you grind down hard on his cock making him moan. 

“This is to keep people from getting any ideas,” you smooth your hands down his chest, nails scratching at his abs and making them tense, “you can put your own collar here if you want.”

Leon closes his eyes, trying his best to behave. Having you in a collar he picked out? Coming home to you waiting for him, maybe even splayed out in his bed, wet and wanting his cock. Shuddering, he blindly mouths at your chest nuzzling until he finds your nipple to pull into his mouth with a rough suck. 

“Mommy, ‘m so close,” he groans, “wanna keep you on my cock forever.”

You pull yourself from his lap with a loud wet suctioning noise that makes his balls draw up tight. The words to keep you sitting on his cock die in his mouth as you kneel down at his feet with your back facing him. You dip at the waist to press your chest into the sleeping bag as you arch your ass into the air. Your tail mesmerizes him for a minute before he scrambles up onto his knees behind you. 

“So pretty,” he slowly strokes his hand down your tail and you moan longingly, spreading your knees to present your wet little cunt to him. 

“Breed me, Leon,” you look back at him, ears twitching and teeth biting your bottom lip, “want you to fill me up.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, notching the head of his cock at your opening before slowly sinking inside. 

His hands grip the fat of your ass, eyes unable to pull away as he watches your pussy eagerly suck his cock back into your slick soft heat. The first few thrusts are slow and deep, letting him luxuriate in the feeling of burying his cock in your hot little pussy. 

“Harder,” you whine, hips pushing back, “give it to me, Leon.”

He lets out a pained grunt as he pumps his cock in and out of your tight hole. Leaning forward, he braces one hand on your shoulder to pin you down as his other grips your hip. The new angle lets him piston his dick deep and hard into your slick greedy hole. Moaning, Leon rabbits his hips faster and faster, balls smacking your clit on every thrust and making you squeeze his dick. 

Moving the hand from your hip, his fingers seek out your slippery swollen clit and rub soft circles across the pudgy bud. 

“So good, such a good boy,” you pant, nails clawing his sleeping bag to shreds, “god, you’re gonna make me squirt.”

The words turn Leon on so much he nearly blacks out. Chills race down his back and he teases your clit from side to side, dipping down to wet his fingers from the slick leaking from your stuffed cunt before pinching your bundle of nerves.

“Your pussy is so perfect,” he gasps, leaning back as he slides the hand from his shoulder down to grab the base of your tail, “gripping me so fucking tight.”

He tugs lightly and you keen, body thrashing wildly as your pussy clenches rhythmically around his cock. 

“Fuck that’s hot,” he groans, chin dropping to his chest to watch him fuck your cunt. 

The more he pets and tugs on your tail, the harder you squeeze down on his dick. Leon’s fingers also never let up on teasing and rubbing your clit while the fat tip of his cock kisses your cervix and makes you squeal. 

“Leon, ungh— fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you slur out, drooling on the slick material of the sleeping bag.

“Please cum for me,” he keeps the same breakneck pace paired with circling your clit and tail, “want that fat pussy creaming my cock, mommy.”

Your body locks up underneath him and Leon feels a gush of slick push his cock out and wet thighs; quickly recovering, he shoves his dick back inside your spasming walls and humps your pussy fast and hard. 

“You fucking squirted,” he whines, “never had a girl squirt on my cock and you fucking—god, I’m cumming, fuck, this chubby fucking pussy is making me cum, oh mommy—”

Leon nearly collapses as he presses himself as tight against your ass as possible, balls drawn up tight and pulsing as he spills deep inside your cunt. Your slick walls milk him for every drop— his dick spurting rope after rope of thick hot cum until it’s dripping from your used hole. 

When he goes to pull out, you whine and press your ass back against him. 

“Stay,” you sigh, “don’t want a mess just yet.”

Shuddering, he groans as your walls flutter and hug his cock. In no time, he’s just as stiff and hard as he was ten minutes ago. 

You moan low in your throat, “You can go again?”

“Yeah,” Leon’s breathless reply surprises himself, cock flexing inside your pussy and making you whine. 

The second time Leon creampies your pussy is rough and nasty. 

Pulling out, he flips you onto your back and slips his cock back inside your cunt. Slick and cum ooze out around his fat cock, but he’s too busy pressing your legs up and over his shoulders to notice.  

Mewling against his messy kisses, you clench and whine from Leon’s rough fucking. At this point, he can’t stop himself from giving it to you hard and fast.

“Gonna fuck your little cunt all night, mommy,” he knows he has no filter at this point, completely pussy drunk, but it doesn’t stop him from talking, “you’re gonna be stuffed to the brim, stuffed full of my cum.”

“Leon,” you moan, nails digging into his back and making him buck harder, dick knocking into your cervix roughly. 

“Yeah? Like that? I’m gonna pound this hot little pussy til you can’t take it anymore. Fuck, ‘m gonna give my mommy what she needs,” he growls out, feeling your heels bounce against his back with his thrusts.

“Want it,” you grin wickedly up at him, “give it to me, Leon. Be a good boy for mommy.”

He’s too wound up from earlier so in no time at all Leon’s cumming inside your pussy for the second time that night. His fingers pinch and rub your slippery clit until you’re clamping down tight on his cock, milking him into overstimulation as he finishes spilling his seed in your sticky walls.

Pulling out with a grunt, Leon collapses next to you with a sigh. Laying there in the quiet, he lets his heart rate drop back to normal before turning to you.

“You really want to get pregnant?”

You smirk and it makes his pulse race. 

“No, that little issue has been fixed,” you kiss the tip of his nose, “but it’s fun to pretend, right?”

Leon’s cock twitches against his thigh and he nods. 

“Yeah,” pink blooms across his cheekbones, “I liked it.”

Curling up into his side, he softly runs a finger across one of your ears. 

“Can I really keep you?” He whispers.

Night sounds slowly seep back into his awareness as a cicada screams nearby. 

“Can you truly keep a wild thing?” You muse humorously, head tilting back so he can see your bright eyes. 

At his contemplative silence, you run your hands through his hair with a half smile, “But I want to go home with you, Leon. If the offer is there.”

“Please,” he blurts out, not caring if he sounds desperate or whipped, “I’d love for you to come home with me.”

Smile softening your features, you brush the fringe from his eyes, “Then, I’m yours.”

Relief and excitement fills his chest and he grins, “Perfect.”

[wandanatrules]

Hi there!! I saw that you were taking request so I thought I’d put one in! I’m obsessed with a rich/Silver fox Nat x innocent reader. Silver fox Nat is definitely manipulative and possessive and is obsessed with R. Maybe for the fic nat just had a really stressful day and gets home late and needs to take her anger out on R? Maybe g!p too? Up to you!  definitely super kinky

Try To Keep Me

hey idk if this does your request justice, but I hope you enjoy!! not proofread

word count: 1.5k

pairing: CEO silver fox beefy g!p Nat x housewife fem reader

warnings: smut, nat has a penis, cnc, angst, cursing, slapping, arguing, name calling, breeding kink, lactation kink, (let me know if I miss any )

You were done waiting on her. She told you that she was done with the broken promises, and the worst part was that you believed her. When you agreed to be her housewife you thought it would be less cooking, cleaning, housework and more wife.

It seems as though all you do is cook the meals that she demands, yet she never actually eats, do her laundry, clean her house, and be used as her personal fucktoy. She was never like this when you guys were dating. You used to have fun together, she used to look at you with that special twinkle in her eyes, while she held your hands and showered you with praises. You couldn’t remember the last time she even complimented you on something other than your body.

Yet you stayed, it’s not like she didn’t love you, I mean she paid the bills, you never wanted for anything. And the sex. The sex was incredible. She would take you whenever she wanted and it was always hot and passionate. You just wished she would bring romance back into the relationship and make you feel wanted.

You figured Natasha didn’t try anymore because she got too confident that you would never leave. She’s every woman’s dream being a millionaire CEO, who is exceptionally sexy, with her long red hair and the muscular body that she spends hours upholding everyday in the gym. But that didn’t matter to you, you missed the Natasha she was when you were dating, your gentle Natty who would pursue you each and every day, take you on thoughtful dates and cuddle you to sleep every night. You were going to teach her that she needs to put in effort in order to keep you.

”Babe, i’m home.” she says, walking through the front door throwing her stuff to the side, expecting you to pick it up later. “Where are you?” she wondered why you weren’t in the kitchen cooking or cleaning up like you normally were. 

Walking through the house to look for you, she noticed the light was on in the closet of the master bedroom. “What are you doing, babe?” She asked with a furrowed brow as she saw you haphazardly throwing clothes into bags.

”Packing!” You said with a tight lip, pacing around the room trying to get your stuff together.

”Baby, stop! What’s going on? Where do you think you are going?” She said with an amused smirk. 

“What the hell do you think is so funny! Everyday you come in here and treat me like i’m your fucking sex slave that’s just here to please you and be your maid! I am packing my bags and staying with my sister.”, You said while trying to push past her before she grabbed you by your wrist to stop you and turn you to face her. 

“You’re not gonna leave me baby, you know I love you. Daddy is just so stressed out from work, that it’s hard for me to do all the romantic things you love to do.” She says while holding you by the waist. 

“It’s just that I want you to try, there are tons of women that would beg to take me out and buy me flowers, so I think I am going to go find one of them.” You said trying to break away before feeling a harsh sting on your cheek. 

“You are such a slut, any excuse to whore yourself out to everyone. I bet this bag is filled with skimpy thongs and tight dresses for you to escapade around the town in.” She says as she rips the bag out of your hands and grabs both of your hands behind your back and leads you to the bed. 

Pushing you face down on the bed, she rips your house dress down as you try to wriggle from her hold and smiles when she sees that you are without underwear. 

“Look at how pretty you are baby, I can’t believe you thought you were gonna leave me. You are mine, all the panties in that bag are only for me to see. Do you understand!” She says as she harshly slaps your ass. “You know maybe if I fill you up and make you pregnant you’ll be happier with my long hours, having someone to keep you company. 

“Come here.”, She says pulling you up into all fours, before swiping her fingers through your pussy. “You’re so wet for me baby. Is the thought of me getting you pregnant turning you on?” 

“Yes daddy. Please fuck me, i’m sorry.”, You said while humping back into her trying to reach back and unbutton her dress slacks. 

She swats your hands and moves to unbutton her pants and pull them along with her underwear down and tosses them across the room. Her 9 inch length pops out and hits your cunt and starts to harden, she then begins to jerk herself off in order to fully harden. 

Before slipping in she spreads your ass with hands on both cheeks and licks all throughout your cunt, up and down taking your clit between her teeth. “My goodness baby, I can never get over how good you taste.”, She says after pulling away and planting kisses all over your ass and cunt, licking and sucking on the skin of your cheeks in order to leave bruises. 

“God baby you make me so hard I just have to fuck you.”, She says after pulling away from your ass and lining her cock up with your entrance. With one strong thrust she bottoms out causing you to yelp. Picking up the pace, she grips your hips and with a steady speed she continues to ram into you from behind.

“Oh Natty, please it feels so good. You fuck me so well, I can’t take it i’m gonna cum.”, You say humping back onto her trying to match her pace. 

“Oh not yet baby, you better hold it until I fill you up with my kids.” She husked into your ear, while reaching down to play with your clit. That combined with the unmatched stamina she has from her daily workouts, is making it impossible to hold out.

”Please, please, please, Nat please I’m gonna cum!” 

“Okay baby, don’t worry I got you. I’m right there with you, so cum when you’re ready.” She grunts out in your ear while violently ramming into you trying to catch her high. “Uhh, there you go. Take it all, baby take all my cum.” She releases her load into your cunt, causing you to come right after her. Pulling out she flips you over and pushes you onto your back, fingering the oozing cum back into you to make sure it sticks. 

Pulling her fingers out of your cunt, she licks them and then kisses up your body. Starting between your thighs, she kisses a trail up your stomach, stopping when reaching your chest. “You’re gonna look so sexy as the mother of my children.”, She says while pulling your nipple into her hot mouth, sucking and taking the other one between her skilled fingers, pulling and twisting. “I can’t wait for these tits to be filled with your sweet milk, for me to drink.”

“You know you can’t just fuck me and expect me to forget what i’m upset about!”, You say in between moans as she continues her assault on your boobs.

”Okay, yeah you’re right baby. Tell me, what were you upset about?”, She says, lifting her head from your breasts, looking face to face, with a smirk. 

“No, i’m being serious. Of course I want us to have kids, but I don’t want to feel like a single mother. I want a wife that cares about her kids and spends family time with them and her wife. Please, Nat, I hate that I have to beg you to romance me and make me feel like I mean something to you!” You sit up and cover yourself with the blanket, while you wait for her to reply.

“Yes I understand baby, come here.” She says while pulling you into her lap. “I know i’m not the most present with you, and it seems like I only care about your body when I am stressed out from work, but I don’t. You are the love of my life, and I couldn’t live without you. I am so sorry that I have been so lousy at showing you that. I promise that I will try everyday to show you how much you mean to me and how much I need you. I don’t even know what I was thinking, not treating you like the goddess you are.” She said, grabbing you by the face and placing a kiss on your mouth. 

You move to straddle her hips and grind down on her length, “Okay, baby if that’s how you feel I think we should keep going if we are gonna start trying to have a family.”, You say, leaning in to kiss her again.

[hawkinsbnbg]

Silver fox Steve meets fox hunter Eddie.

When Steve accepted the teaching position at IU, he didn't expect to stumble upon Eddie Munson–an enigma—who loved metal, who wore leathers with chains and rings, who always stood out with that wild mane, those attractive tattoos and devil-may-care attitude, and who had been trying to get into his pants for months now.

“Is this still a violation to the college’s policies, Professor?” Hot lips planted by his ears, strong hands held him down, stopped him from getting away.

“N– No,” Steve gasped and rolled his eyes back as Eddie hit that spot again. They had been at it for over an hour now, and Steve only had himself to blame for being weak-willed.

He had half a mind to worry about what his colleagues might say tomorrow about having seen him slink away with one of the graduates. But his head was rendered blank when those long calloused fingers wrapped around his neglected cock and started jerking it.

“Am I still too young for you, Professor?”

“Ye– Oh, god–” Steve writhed and slobbered as his sweet spots were battered again.

“Just Eddie is fine,” the younger man nipped the tip of his ear teasingly before setting up a brutal pace.

Steve couldn't even talk, he just fisted the sheet beneath him, overwhelmed and overstimulated. He was kind of appalled and thrilled by it all. Because sex had never felt so good to him before.

“Am I good enough for you, Professor?” Eddie asked, voice husky and gravelly with lust.

Steve dropped his mouth open to maybe form a proper word or breathe, he didn't know. His brain was too fucked out to remember why he had kept turning Eddie away in the first place.

The guy clearly knew how to plow. Fucking Christ.

He nodded blindly, moaning and losing his mind as Eddie hammered into his prostate as if wanting to knock his soul away.

He came with Eddie’s name on his tongue, twitching and clenching around the thick cock that pulsed inside him. He milked it for what it was worth, and lamented inwardly Eddie had filled the condom and not him.

Once the post-coital high finally passed, the clarity of the situation dawned on him. Steve didn't regret it, but he was mildly disappointed this was just a one-time thing.

Because of all people, he knew Eddie’s kind the best. Always curious, always eager to take on challenges. And who else was better to conquer than Professor Harrington who was known for being a rule stickler?

Except, tonight was the first time he let himself be swayed by those charming smiles and big impish eyes. Maybe it was old ages having mellowed him, or maybe it was loneliness wearing his guard down.

Either way, someone brilliant like Eddie would never stick around for a boring old man like Steve. Which was completely understandable. But it didn't hurt less to think he was just another pitstop in Eddie’s life. Easy to forget, easy to leave behind.

“Hope you haven’t gotten tired of me yet, Mr. Harrington,” Eddie returned from the bathroom with a washcloth in hands, looking far too chirpy in only a pair of black boxers and not at all as drained as Steve felt.

God, what a time to be reminded that he was too old for this.

Sitting against the headboard, Steve said nothing and just watched Eddie climb on the bed and kneel over to him. When he intended to take the washcloth, Eddie just grabbed his hand to kiss the back of it instead.

“Allow me to take care of my date,” the younger man said cheekily before proceeding to wipe him down with practiced ease.

“Your date, huh?” Steve snorted, laughing at himself for being so pathetic to perk up at that.

“Yeah, my date,” Eddie smiled softly, tone still light-hearted but eyes intense when they met his own. “We’re kinda doing it backward here but I can fix that.”

Jesus. Steve didn't think he knew what he was getting himself into. And still, he couldn't help but listen to his stupid heart, the one that was telling him to give Eddie a chance.

“How?”

“I know this place has really good tacos,” Eddie rested a hand on his bare thigh and stroked it slowly. “They also serve quite decent drinks and mean buffalo wings.”

“What if I say no?” Steve raised his eyebrow.

“Well, in that case,” Eddie deflated, looking like a kicked puppy as he braved on. “I’ll respect your decision and get out of your hair soon.”

Steve sighed, wishing pretty boys with big eyes weren't his weakness.

“Listen carefully,” he leveled Eddie with a serious look. “If you’re just looking for someone to fool around with, then I’m not the right person for you. But if you want to try for a real relationship, then we can do it together. And I’ll expect you to be fully committed. No polygamy or anything alike.”

Eddie grinned at him, dimpled and bright, before cupping his cheek and kissing the side of his mouth.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been committed to you since the first time we met. Been yours even before you noticed me.”

The fact that Steve could tell it was true made his heart flutter in his chest.

“Well then, Mr. Munson, I have no problem with you fixing our date tonight,” he turned his head slightly to press a chaste kiss on Eddie’s lips.

“So polite,” Eddie chuckled and kissed him again, but it was deeper and more tender this time.

Although Steve still couldn't quite believe Eddie would stick around, he decided to take the leap of faith anyway.

And many years later, when he glanced up from his newspaper to see Eddie showing him another new sweater for their dog, he knew he had made the right choice that night.

[theemporium]

thank you to the anon who sent the request in!🫶🏽sorry that tumblr is glitching and won't let me answer the actual ask :(

series masterlist

.

“Are you even qualified for this?” 

Luke turned to look at you over his shoulder, eyebrows raised in amusement. “I can make a couple of meals to get by,” he said. “You, somehow, burn pasta. I think it’s fair to say I am qualified enough to teach you how to make a meal or two.” 

“Ugh,” you groaned as you walked across the kitchen, slumping against him with your cheek pressed against his back. “Why can’t you just make me food and then we can go watch some Vampire Diaries?” 

“Because you just told me you have been surviving off cereal and that isn’t okay,” Luke retorted, reaching his arm back to pat your ass until you moved to stand next to him. “It’s just pasta. Not rocket science.” 

“Half your meals are prepared anyways,” you grumbled. 

“And yet I can still make pasta.” 

Your eyes narrowed slightly before you let out a long sigh. “Fine, go on then. Teach me what you know.” 

So, he did. He just didn’t realise how fucking stressful it would be.

“I—what are you doing?” 

You paused, looking at Luke with a shrug. “Cutting an onion.”

“You’re gonna cut your fingers off if you cut it like that,” Luke chastised with a frown, reaching around to shift your hands so your fingers weren’t so near the knife blade. 

“We can’t have that,” you hummed, amusement lacing your words. “You love my fingers wrapped around your—”

“Cherry,” Luke groaned, feeling his cheeks burning at your insinuation. Not that you were wrong. 

“Calm down, Luke, it’s just an onion. It’s gonna get chopped one way or another,” you assured him. 

“I’d rather your fingers weren’t included in that,” he murmured with a huff.

Five minutes. 

It took all of five minutes before chaos took over the kitchen and Luke felt his nerves hit a level that even hockey games didn’t compete with. The part of his brain that was always switched on during games felt like it was pulsing in his head, making sure he didn’t miss a single thing in the kitchen. 

“Okay, fine, you win,” Luke eventually gave in as his shoulders slumped in defeat. “You just…sit there and look pretty. I’ll finish cooking.” 

Your smile widened. “Aw, my own personal chef.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. “You did this all on purpose, didn’t you?” 

“It’s fun seeing how much patience you have,” you answered with a shit-eating grin on your face. “I’m surprised you made it past the onion, to be honest.” 

“You’re gonna make me go grey before I’m twenty-one,” he muttered under his breath. 

“Ooh, I do like a silver fox.” 

“Cherry.” 

“Kidding. I’ll go turn the Vampire Diaries on.”

.