#lance gets captured

[localfanbaselurker]

I’ve realized I can do anything with my newfound power

[riverblujay]

there is no greater mourning than accepting after multiple hours that you will not be able to find a very good fic you suddenly had a hazy memory of. you can only hope it has not been deleted and that maybe, against all odds, it will return home to you someday

[delicatebluebirdruins]

dreaming of a world where WTRC was the show and the netflix adaptation never existed

[demcnsinmymind]

One of these days I'm gonna write Az as an actual scary blob instead of a fucking edgelord. One of these days

Like all the chill and fun :D :)))))) is hella fun and cool and all

but gimme more of thissss

Like I feel like I'm completely underselling/understating how completely fucking unhinged it really is. All the chill and friendly and fun loving vibes are so incredibly twofaced and such a farce, that thing's a nuclear bomb wrapped up in some skinny af pretty packaging and u just need to do one and uttermost random thing wrong and it's gonna blow up on you so hard it might just freakin zap people out of existence full stop

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Mmm maybe Lance and/or Silver for the lil character doodles? 👀✨

Life has been quite unforgiving as of late—but I really do dearly hope things get easier for the both of us huhu. Take care Mold, and don’t forget to drink a lot of water 🤲❤️

couldn't decide on which one so i did both! Lance and his son Silver! ✨

[pin-k-ink]

ruination // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ highly suggestive content, mentions of an injury, reader is fucking suicidal, strong sexual tension, slight nipple play, making out, dirty talk

wc ⇢ 3.2k

a/n: this is basically an experiment to see if i’m any good at writing for soshiro. so i need yall to give me some feedback this time please 🙏

Another kaiju attack, another chance to get up close and personal with true, visceral pandemonium. You ignored the blaring evacuation sirens as the city’s streets emptied around you in a stampede of panicked civilians. Where they saw horror, you found an intoxicating allure in the pounding footfalls and slashing claws reducing skyscrapers to rubble.

Up ahead, a thunderous roar shook the very earth underfoot. You grinned eagerly, clutching your camcorder tighter as you broke into a sprint towards the rampaging beast. This was your raison d'être - capturing the primal chaos and catastrophic beauty of each kaiju's uninhibited violence up close, no matter the cost.

What you hadn't anticipated was the familiar whirlwind abruptly blocking your path mere yards from the leviathan's wake of destruction. A lean form dropped into a battle-ready crouch as disheveled dark violet locks whipped across blazing ruby eyes.

"Well, well...if it isn't my own personal videographer stalker," Soshiro drawled in that rich, lazy cadence that never failed to rankle you.

Despite the undeniable peril surrounding you both, the elite monster hunter's full lips curved into a taunting smirk as he raked an insolent look over you from beneath lowered lashes.

"You know, there are easier ways to get some alone time with me besides throwing yourself into harm's way constantly," he purred. "All you gotta do is ask nicely and I'll let you film me up close and personal with all the...details."

You felt a traitorous flush creep up your neck at the blatant insinuation and couldn't resist scowling fiercely at Soshiro's audacity. As if his suave flirtations and flawless physique encased in that flattering skinsuit weren't enough of a distraction already!

"Ugh, no thanks," you sneered to cover for the treacherous flutter in your belly. "I prefer not to sully my lenses with footage of your ugly mug if I can help it."

Rather than looking affronted, Soshiro simply chuckled - the sound zinging through your veins like lightning before your muddled senses could react. In the blink of an eye, his blade was in hand as he angled his taut body into a defensive crouch shielding you from the kaiju's ravenous path.

"Well then, ugly or not," he shot back with a wink that should be illegal, "better get that fancy camera rolling, sweet thing. You're about to get an up-close look at how this big bad handles ugly customers..."

You hardly registered the lumbering beast's furious bellow as it wheeled towards you both, distracted by the lean lines of sinewy power thrumming through Soshiro with each sinuous shift of his stance. The relentless, feral aura of self-assurance bleeding from his pores in cresting waves of heat that made you feel utterly spellbound.

Shaking yourself free of the trance, you hefted the camcorder almost reflexively to start filming as Soshiro launched himself with devastating speed towards the kaiju's slashing maw. Despite the grave stakes, you couldn't deny your rapidly pounding pulse was just as much about capturing your bodyguard's unbound flow and virile grace on camera as the magnificent monster itself.

As always, Soshiro danced through the melee like a preternatural force unto himself - twisting and feinting with cat-like agility around each lancing tail sweep or snapping jaw until the perfect opening presented itself. The moment his blade carved into the beast's hide elicited a molten thrill you knew better than to name - one that had you ravenously tracking every coiled shift or his powerful physique and piercing eyes narrowed in sublime focus.

You continued relentlessly filming while Soshiro flowed from strike to high-flying counter like a man possessed. Utterly blind to anything but the sheer ruthless beauty of his form locked in mortal combat against the heaving, raging bulk swatting at his diminutive shadow.

So entranced were you by the dance underway that you failed to register your feet carrying you closer and closer into the heart of the fray. Not until a jagged chunk of debris went whipping past your head to strike home in a blossoming line of fiery agony across your scalp.

The world seemed to tilt dangerously for a moment, dimming at the edges as you reeled backwards with your free hand clutched to the ragged gash you could already feel seeping ribbons of wet heat down your face. Your grip on the camcorder slipped, precious cargo tumbling from numb fingers into the rubble.

Vague shouts and alarmed calls echoed in your ringing ears, barely piercing the fog of shock and concussion gripping your addled senses. Until suddenly, a pair of corded arms clamped around your waist to haul you bodily back against a powerful, compact frame that reeked of steel and sandalwood.

"What the fuck...?!" Soshiro roared breathlessly against your dazed form, sounding utterly incensed for perhaps the first time you'd witnessed. "Are you actually trying to get yourself killed today, you crazy girl?!"

You tried valiantly to quip back with some paltry rejoinder, to claw back a shred of your usual contemptuous bravado in the face of his censure. But his grip tightened with bruising force as he wrenched you aside even as you valiantly tried to squirm free.

"Hey, hey...look at me right now," he growled, scorching timbre bleeding real hints of genuine concern as his hand snared your jaw to still your reeling head.

Blearily, you managed to regain focus on the sharp planes of Soshiro's features twisted into rare unguarded turmoil as he drank in your battered state. His brows pinched, pursing those sinful lips around a guttural exhale as ruby irises slowly dilated with rising wrath.

"You never fucking listen to me," he bit out, each word clipped and dripping with bitter accusation. "I tell you to stay back, and what do you do? Go and get yourself hurt because you're too goddamn thick to see how much of a liability you make yourself when you pull this shit!"

You blinked back the sting of tears, uncomprehending and ashamed at the raw anger directed your way, He'd always been such an incorrigible flirt, not outright furious. What had--?

"You're bleeding...Fuck, you're putting me off my game here so fucking bad," Soshiro continued in a strained rush, free hand ghosting over the steady stream trickling from your hairline with surprising delicacy. "What's it gonna take for you to finally get it through that thick skull, huh? That I can't just—!"

Whatever frenzied outburst he might've unleashed fractured apart as the kaiju's baleful roar rent the air behind you both. You felt Soshiro's powerful frame tense against yours instinctively, torn between lashing you further and prioritizing the imminent threat looming ever nearer.

Without an ounce of ceremony, he simply turned and cupped the back of your skull to his chest as the ground quaked beneath another deadly stomp from the rampaging beast. You flinched despite yourself, bracing for the world to detonate around your fragile forms in violence.

Instead, you felt Soshiro's hips roll and coil in slow, sinuous motion as he absorbed the impact through his thighs with flawless technique. The compact power thrumming beneath his supple control sent a frisson of electric heat zinging down your spine to pool low in your core in unmistakable yearning.

"We'll finish this conversation once I've neutralized the threat," he grit out against the crown of your head in a low, dangerous purr. "Until then...don't you dare think about moving from this spot and forcing me to protect you from your own reckless ass again."

With that gruff declaration, Soshiro released you unceremoniously to rejoin the fray with a preternatural gait. You swayed in place numbly, fingers hovering over the ragged cut as wave after wave of arousal and shame crashed over your muddled senses in equal measure.

Part of you bristled at his cavalier disregard, your suicidal urges demanding you fling yourself back into the violent pandemonium without further thought. To let the kaiju's rampage swallow you whole in a blaze of visceral glory against Soshiro's wishes.

But the greater, deeply unsettling part clenched with a yearning you could no longer ignore as you tracked the elite hunter's lithe figure weaving amidst claw swipes and rubble in lethal tandem. Each rolling shift of his taut, sinewy muscles beneath that unforgiving suit set your mouth watering for reasons entirely divorced from your typical appetites.

This time, the compulsion had nothing to do with craving unbound violence or anarchy raining down without mercy. No, your new fixation centered solely on what primal ecstasy might await should you surrender to Soshiro's virile dominion utterly and without reservation. To indulge in the promise of violent rapture bound in the most intoxicating packaging imaginable...

You really were utterly, inexplicably gone when it came to this fearless man blurring the lines between heroics and carnal audacity. And unless this maddening attraction claimed you first, the discovery of whether you'd finally bent Soshiro's staunch convictions to your suicidal compulsions might just render the distinction tragically moot.

You drifted back to consciousness slowly, a dull throbbing ache pulsing behind your eyes to the cadence of beeping machines. Grimacing against the harsh fluorescent lights, you cracked open your lids and immediately recognized the stark sterility of a hospital room surrounding you.

Sluggishly, the fractured memories trickled back - the kaiju's rampage, Soshiro's scathing fury as he pinned you to safety while blood matted your hair. Tentatively, you raised one hand and felt the coarse linen bandages swaddling your head in confirmation. So that part, at least, hadn't been some fevered dream.

Wincing through the fog of grogginess, you braced yourself upright on shaking arms in preparation to swing your legs over the side of the mattress. This place was the last you wanted to linger after awakening, no matter the severity of your injuries. Anywhere had to be better than--

"Don't. Even. Think about it."

You froze at the rough, utterly irate rasp that seemed to roll over your prone form in a wave of molten sin. Slowly, you felt the hairs along your nape prickling to attention as your gaze skated up over a pair of powerful thighs clad in fatigues to settle on Soshiro's furious visage.

The elite hunter was perched on the room's solitary chair with his forearms braced on widespread knees, dark locks askew in artful disarray. But it was those striking ruby irises smoldering from beneath lowered lashes that held you utterly immobile, pinning you to the mattress with more force than any physical restraint ever could.

"You gotta be kidding me..." Soshiro growled after a fraught pause, upper lip curling in a wordless snarl. "After that stunt you pulled back there, you're seriously going to try and flee medical right when you finally come to?"

You swallowed hard, torn between withering beneath the sheer wrath radiating off him in waves or doubling down with some token act of defiance. Before you could determine which, Soshiro was surging to his feet in an effortless roll of taut muscle and prowling towards the bed like a panther eyeing its prey.

"I said," he repeated, each word bitten off like a slashing blade as you felt the mattress dip beside your prone form, "don't even think about moving, sweet thing..."

Suddenly his looming silhouette blotted out all other input, hemming you in with no avenue of escape as scorching puffs of his molten baritone caressed your flushed features. You stared up at Soshiro in dumbstruck, reluctant awe of the towering fury he exuded so effortlessly - a primal force of nature in his own right contained only by savage self-discipline.

Yet beneath the palpable waves of reproach rolling off him was something else, something darker and infinitely more perilous that set your nerve endings alight in ways you couldn't fathom. It simmered in the blistering intensity of his hooded stare boring into your widened eyes as one calloused palm rose to settle over your rapidly thundering pulse.

"You're lucky you didn't lose this tonight," Soshiro murmured, deep baritone turned to gravel as his knuckles grazed the sensitive skin over your jugular tauntingly. "Playing those idiotic reindeer games amidst a fuckin' deadly situation..."

He trailed off in a wordless growl, the backs of his fingers drifting down the pounding column of your throat in a slithering caress that raised heated goosebumps erupting over every inch of your hyper-aware flesh. Lower still, tracing over your collarbones tantalizingly before he seemed to regain control of himself.

"When are you going to get through that thick skull of yours, huh?" Soshiro rasped out, thumb anchoring against the throbbing pulse point beneath your jaw in a subtly possessive brand. "Realize you're not invincible...and that some of us actually give a damn whether you make it through each rampage intact and breathing?"

You forgot to inhale entirely as he shifted infinitesimally closer on the mattress, until your rapidly thrumming chests were mere inches apart. The simmering intensity of his gaze left you reeling, dizzy in a way the sedatives couldn't account for as each panted breath filled your starving lungs with his dark, inebriating musk.

"Or is that exactly what gets you so worked up and reckless out there, pretty girl?" Soshiro continued in a hushed rasp bordering on a sinful purr that had you flushing all the way down to your toes. "Knowing once the dust settles...we'll be left alone to keep picking up wherever we left off that night? Just me...and my very own lil' daredevil to punish as I see fit..."

Molten desire crashed over you in a searing wave as Soshiro finished with a lingering lick of his full lips, staring down at your own parted ones hungrily. Before you could draw breath to whimper out a response, his palm suddenly splayed warm and possessive over the quivering flat of your abdomen beneath the sheets.

"I don't know how many times I've imagined putting you over my knee for that kind of discipline, sweet thing..." he husked out with liquid silk potency, sending an exquisite tremor racing over your form. "Or bending you right over whatever pile of rubble happens to be closest when the urge strikes...taking my belt to that perfect ass for being so goddamn foolish..."

You keened softly, a high needy sound barely pushing past the lump in your throat. Soshiro seemed to vibrate with answering tension in response, weight sinking further into the vee of your splayed thighs until his chest dragged deliciously against the hardened peaks of your nipples.

"Is that what you really want from me, baby girl?" he growled against the scorching sweep of your cheek, silken heat searing your inflamed senses. "To earn yourself one of my special...punishments at last?"

Your breath left you in a shuddering rush with Soshiro's mouth a hairsbreadth from capturing your own in a searing glide. His fingers twitched, clenching almost imperceptibly against the feverish plane of your stomach as if fighting not to fist the hospital gown and drag you flush against his firm, straining contours.

Soshiro's smoldering stare bored into you with the intensity of a supernova as his thumb rasped over your parted lips in a teasing caress. You instinctively strained toward the promise of his molten mouth, already addicted to that sinful heat despite having yet to indulge.

"Is this what you want?" he husked out in a low rasp that washed over your tingling nerve endings like the most exquisite temptation.

You managed the barest tremor of a nod, whimpering softly as his nose brushed the column of your straining throat in the barest of nuzzles. The rough caress of Soshiro's shadowed jawline ghosting over your hypersensitive skin made you shudder against him helplessly.

"You'll have to use your words, pretty girl," he growled against the thundering pulse leaping just beneath your jaw. "Tell me exactly how bad you need this..."

His tongue traced a blazing path over the hollow of your throat, laving the sweat-slick notch between your collarbones in one tantalizingly slow glide. You whined at the molten temptation, back arching on instinct to press your aching curves against the scorching weight of his powerful frame hovering so tauntingly near.

"Please..." you managed to rasp out desperately, hands fisting in the sheets with restraint. "Soshiro, please I need-- nnngh!"

The rest of your plea dissolved into a high, keening whimper as he sealed his velvet mouth over the rigid peak of your breast in a soul-searing clamp. Soshiro growled softly in evident satisfaction around the mouthful, the vibration ricocheting straight to your throbbing pussy in merciless rapture.

One calloused palm curved around the generous swell spilling free of your sheer gown, possessive and insistent as he laved broad swirls of his sinful tongue over your nipple. You thrashed against the mattress at the overwhelming onslaught of sensation, nails raking along his sculpted forearms in a frantic bid for leverage.

He took that as encouragement, tongue lashing and teeth scraping across your tit with alternating swipes of scorching pleasure and pinprick rapture until you keened unintelligibly. Only then did Soshiro finally release you with one last lingering suckle before dragging his mouth higher in a blazing path.

"Look at me," he snarled in a voice made to ravage. Your eyes flew open to meet the molten, blown crimson glare leveled at you from mere inches away. "Eyes on me when I finally claim this perfect fucking mouth..."

With a low, feral sound he sealed his lips over yours in an explosive crash that instantly stole what little oxygen remained in your lungs with bruising intensity. Soshiro instantly delved his questing tongue past the seam of your parted mouth to invade every slick corner in a deep, territorial glide that left you squirming and whimpering against him shamelessly.

He drank down every gasping, desperate sound greedily, mercilessly ravaging you with wicked swirls and flicks of his velvet muscle that set your world spinning on its axis. You writhed against Soshiro's sculpted body, desperate for any scrap of friction while his weight caged you in relentless captivity.

A shuddering eternity passed with only the filthy slick and harsh pants shared between your greedy mouths echoing off the stark walls. Until at last, Soshiro dragged his lips from yours with a strangled groan, leaving you chasing the connection deliriously as he pinned you with a look of naked, burning possession.

"That's it, sweetheart..." he rasped out in a tone made to scorch every inch of your fevered skin anew. "You just lie there and take your punishment nice and slow...make up for all those close calls when I didn't get the chance to show you how fucking gone I was over every reckless little stunt..."

His mouth crashed back over yours in a searing lay of pure dominance before you could whimper out a response. Soshiro instantly picked up where he'd left off - mapping out every slick crevice with his questing tongue until you shattered against his ruthless onslaught once more.

As the darkness swept in to claim your spiraling consciousness, one blazing truth remained etched into your overloaded synapses even as blissful oblivion swallowed you under its tide - that you would finally surrender everything to this virile, unbound creature's communion without reservation.

Over and over, for however long it took for Soshiro to assuage the ravenous need driving his merciless claiming and bestow the ruinous rapture you'd been so foolishly, recklessly courting all this time. Because nothing else could possibly sate the hunger howling through you both like the maddening call of a wild siren.

[shatterinseconds]

“Baby,” Lance says.

Keith snorts, loud and uncaring. “God no, not in a million years.”

“Alright.” Lance scratches out a line on his pad of paper. “Does that mean babe’s out too?”

Keith wrinkles his nose. “It’s not the best but tolerable.”

“We’ll note that as a strong maybe.” In which Lance actually does mark down a quick note to the side of the list, and Keith catches himself from rolling his eyes.

For the past week, they’ve been staying at Lance’s family home in Cuba while they decide on their next steps in a post Voltron, post war world. They rest on the back patio, facing the backyard that really extends into open land far beyond them, neighbors a mile away at least. It’s quiet and beautiful and even when the commotion of Lance’s entire family is present, it’s one of Keith’s new favorite places in the world. They watch Lance’s niece and nephew for the afternoon while Lance’s older brother runs errands and Lance’s mother prepares dinner.

Keith angles his head closer to Lance, though he’s still mostly blocked by the small table between them, and gestures to the list. “Is this really necessary?”

“Pet names are important to me,” Lance replies with a quirk to the corner of his mouth. The summer breeze, fresh off the ocean and carrying a thin taste of salt, curls through his brown hair. “Mullet is great but I need at least one more that’s affectionate.”

Keith scrunches his nose.

The thing is, all of this is new to Keith. The peace, the stability, having a permanent place to call home again, and… their relationship. They’ve been dancing around each other for years, as their teammates love to complain about, but officially being together, having the ability to call Lance his partner, boyfriend, lover? That all happened less than a couple weeks ago—and yet it already feels timeless.

Seeing Keith’s reluctance, Lance stands to relocate himself on Keith’s lap, settling his full weight on Keith’s thighs. Keith glares, though he moves his hands onto Lance’s hips and his fingers wiggle under Lance’s loose shirt to hunt for warm patches of skin. Lance tugs on his ears, guiding Keith to tilt his head and capture his mouth in a soft kiss. 

And what a lovely kiss it is.

“I’m trying to be nice by giving you a choice.” Lance laughs a little when they break apart, only to lean back down. He stops a hair’s breadth away from Keith’s mouth. When he speaks again, his breath drifts over Keith’s lips, a soft caress. “What about sweetheart, honey bunches, pickle?”

“Okay, now these are just getting ridiculous.” Keith wraps his arms around Lance’s waist, pulling him closer, and buries his nose into the crook of Lance’s neck.

“I don’t know,” Lance mutters, starting to absently play with Keith’s hair, twirling the long strands around his fingers. “I’m kinda partial to sweetheart.”

“Yeah, that’s not bad,” Keith admits as a faint blush rises on his pale cheeks. He tries to bury his face deeper to cover it, but he should’ve guessed how well that would work out.

A shit-eating grin stretches wide across Lance’s face; Keith can feel it against the side of his head. “I see we’ve found our winner.” Humming, Lance leans down toward Keith’s ear. “Sweetheart.”

Face glowing and mind reeling, Keith shoves Lance off his lap. “Shut up,” he lightly growls, mortified at his own reaction.

Lance arches his head back as he cackles from his spot on the ground, eventually flopping down and pillowing his head with his hands as he lazily stares up at Keith. That shit-eating grin refuses to fall off his face. “Yeah, this is going to be fun.”

And despite Keith’s own face remaining beet red, he can’t help but smile too.

[coco-loco-nut]

Book Club - Part 6

pairing: Lance Stroll x Reader, Grid x Reader

summary: you and lance have a talent for traumating the grid *insert emotional damage meme here*

requests open masterlist

———————————

It was safe to say that that you and Lance were still very much in your honeymoon phase when you got to testing. Both of you very tan from your weeks spent on the beach.

“Y/n! You surprised the world when you announced your marriage and name change, Anything you want to say about it?” One of your favorite interviewers asks you as you walk hand in hand to the paddock with Lance.

“Sure, yeah. Lance and I have been together for a long time, so getting married was just the natural next step. It was a small wedding with close friends and family. Regarding my new name, alittle over a year ago, Kimi offered to mentor me and we forged a very close bond. He is basically my father and his kids are my siblings, so with the blessing of the family I wanted to honor the relationship the best way I knew how. Racing under the Räikkönen name is such a huge honor and I can’t thank my dad and family enough for the honor,” you beam, more than happy to talk about your family.

“How did Kimi react when you told him you were taking his name both legally and when racing,” she asks, your joy infectious.

“He was so happy, I told him at the wedding, yeah. We are such a tight family, I can’t thank them enough for bringing me into their family and allowing me to take their last name. And Lance has been wonderful about it, he actually suggested hyphenating the names,” you tell her. Usually you are pretty tight lipped, but you with happily talk with her.

“Alright, onto what actually matters. How are you feeling going into testing with Red Bull?” she asks and you take a step back into your normal interview style.

“Good. I certainly miss Checo here, but the car feels good. We will see how testing goes and work from there,” Lance gives you a look that says you will be late and the journalist notices.

“Thanks for chatting, and congratulations,” she says and you nod in thanks before walking away.

“You look very hot today, Mrs Räikkönen-Stroll,” Lance says kissing the side of your head.

“Maybe so, but nothing compares to you post race,” your cheeks flame a little. Lance pulls you into a small alley between motorhomes. You are pressed against the wall as Lance kisses you, hands tangled in each other’s hair.

“OH MY GOD!” you hear Daniel shriek.

“MY EYES!” Valtteri screams. Lance quickly pulls away from you as the four of you look at each like deer in the headlights. Daniel and Valtteri quickly walk away, leaving you and Lance giggling like school kids.

The club atmosphere was off when you walked in, taking a seat beside Logan. Valtteri can’t look you in the eyes while Daniel isn’t sure whether his is proud or scarred for life.

“Fernando, I was not aware of your taste in books,” Nico says, a little flushed thinking about what they had to read.

“Yeah, a smut book? We do have innocent eyes here,” Kevin looks at you and Logan.

“Innocent?” Logan asks, a breathy laugh behind it.

“The beach scene?” Lewis suggests you all start on.

“The writing was phenomenal, the author really captured the emotions and sensations. It read so raw, so lifelike. It was one of the few times that art imitated life. She captured every intimate thought and feeling that a woman gets when she is having sex. I remember during the honeymoon when Lance and I did something similar on the private beach and wow, the author really nailed it,” you say, not quite realizing what you had just revealed to the group.

“Damn, Y/n, I didn’t realize you and Lance were freaks like that. Respect,” Daniel says, never being one to shy away from sex. Your face twists in mortification at what you unintentionally revealed. The guys look at eachother mortified as well.

You were an adult, they knew that, but in their subconscious mind you haven’t done anything more than kiss a boy. That’s how you end up following them as they storm across the paddock.

“Logan! Help me stop them,” you look at him with panic in your eyes as the group nears the Aston Martin garage.

“Hell no, this is so funny,” he says and you huff. You see the guys cornering Lance.

“YOU RUINED OUR DAUGHTER?!” Fernando yells at his teammate. You just want to sink into a corner and die, similar to how Lance appears.

“Our precious, innocent, child. What’s next? Logan has slept with a girl?” Valtteri says.

“HEY!” Logan yells in offense. The guys’ faces drain of more color.

“You too? This isn’t ok,” Kevin says and you spot Max and Lando trying not to laugh, the two of them having seen the commotion and wanted to check it out.

“I think you guys are forgetting that the three of us are consenting adults, we aren’t kids anymore,” you say softly, Logan and Lance standing by you, the latter still scared.

“Tell that to Kimi,” Nico chuckles and you groan at the mention of your dad.

“Alright, stop harassing my teammate, we have meetings,” Max breaks everyone up, leading you away.

“Thanks, Maxie,” you let out a breath of relief.

“Do I want to know?” he laughs.

“No, I don’t think so,” you return his laugh. You just hope that your book club meeting will be smoother tomorrow morning.

The next morning, you walk into the room happy and perky as usual.

“You okay, Fernando?” Logan asks when he notices Fernando on his third cup of coffee and the tiredness in his eyes.

“The hotel has thin walls. My hotel room shares a wall with Lance’s,” Fernando says, giving you a look that makes you blush in embarrassment, wishing the earth would open up and eat you whole.

“It is natural. They are young and in love, maybe we will have a baby Stroll soon,” Lewis says and your eyes light up.

“We will!” you say, quickly pulling out your phone. The older drivers hearts sink, all slightly panicking. “Oh my god, I’m not pregnant guys, we are just getting a puppy,” you laugh at their faces.

“I would like to make a motion to kick Y/n out of the book club due to the amount of emotional distress she has given the members this weekend,” Valtteri says, and your jaw drop.

“Alright alright, but you don’t understand the almost of trauma I went through having rooms that neighbored all of you during my first year here,” you point your finger at all of them.

“Motion denied,” Daniel sighs, knowing he was probably one of the main culprits.

“So, this dog?” Nico says, changing the subject.

instagram

y/username EVERYONE MEET MY BABY!

since I’m too young to have a baby (according to the club) here is my baby holding our baby, Milo Stroll ❤️🐾🐶

logansargeant look at how big his paws are! he’s gonna be a big boy 😍

y/username his favorite uncle 🥰

danielricciardo @y/username I take offense to that

user1 y/n really had me in the first half

nicohulkenberg she had us too the first time she brought up Milo in conversation

lancestroll what a hot mama 😮‍💨

y/username nothing compared to the absolute DILF holding my sweet puppy in the picture

georgerussel MY EYES! MY INNOCENT EYES

[wren-em]

The second scenario that my brain came up with is that most of the mojo crew and most of the crew have to work together in a rescue mission because Bandy,Eira and Lance got captured in an anti-jury and anti-magic town. I've only really got why they get captured in my head and not much more details.Let's just say that Bandy can swap anything within a radius. Path 1 starts with a fight between the mojo crew vs the wonders.Where the fight goes in the story probably isn't really important because the only note I have for it in my head is that it can't be the fight where Glass gets shattered At some point, Bandy swaps himself, Lance and Eira with something from the nearby anti-jury and anti-magic town.Their fight continues and involves Lance stealing all of Eira's wepons.If it happens when Eira is refusing to use his magic, then this what causes him to use magic for the first time since ths team is fully formed.If Eira is more comfortable using his magic, then I imagine this is maybe the first apperance of his ice swords. Natrually, this is when guards show up. The three of them end up semi teaming up to try and failing to not get captured. Path 2 is basically the same but instead of continuing to fight each other, they get noticed immediately by guards and have a fight with the guards instead.Path 3 diveges from the fight because Lorelei shatters Glass.Instead of swapping them to an anti-jury and anti-magic town, Bandy instead swaps them into a town that is pro-magic and you-can-exist-jury.Eira immediately breaks off to try and find a spell or potential magic item that replicates what created Glass in the first place.Lance and Bandy obviously give chase because they're not going to let Eira out of their sights when they have ample oppertunity to capture him. Those two catch up to Eira before he can find the thing that'll esentially revive Glass.Eira is determined to find that thing.So he makes a deal with Lance and Bandy to get them to help him find it and get it on Dopple's person in exchange for him willing letting himself get captured and dragged to the rest of the wonders.They end up finding and stealing the thing. Since theft is a crime, all three book it to a bit of forest that puts the mojo team minus Eira near the end of Bandy's radius.They end up swapping the thing with one of Dopple's trinkets that they hope is still on his person and then they get arrested by boarder guards for an anti-jury and anti-magic town that are patrolling the forest that the town owns and that the three are currently standing in. Bandy and Lance obviously are members of the Wonders section of the Jury so they're not going to walk away but Eira is a different story. Obviously since there are two members of Jury, all three are going to the town to be safe on the guard's end but Eira isn't identifiably a problem. As far as the guards know, Eira doesn't have magic or isn't part of the Jury, but the two Jury members are saying that Eira is a magic user when they're questioned about Eira. So to be safe, they end up not letting Eira leave either. They probably get dragged to whoever is in charge of the town for some fate. As far as the rescue group in each path, path three is going to be the most tense but paths 1 and 2 aren't going to be tense free. Most likely, Moira and/or Heartless has to suggest a contract between the two teams that icludes a no capture clause. In path 3, I imagine Dopple and Loreli would be at each others throats and would probably have to be stopped from getting into a physical fight with each other.

something i think would be cool would be if there was like. an episode or chapter or whatever where like. the mojo crew and the wonders are like. forced to work together. maybe its to escape somewhere maybe its to solve a mystery maybe theres blackmail involved! who fucken knows! i just think itd be cool

[fastandcarlos]

Personal Hairdresser : ̗̀➛ Lance Stroll

summary: you finally get the chance to play with lance’s hair and you’re determined to make the most of it

The empty space beside you brought a huff from you, expecting Lance to be there beside you, you were instead greeted by a cold space, leaving you disappointed. Much of the day was already gone, but with you opting to work the late shift you were desperate for rest regardless of what time of day it was.

You stretched your arms up into the air to try and wake yourself up a bit, rubbing your eyes to try and shake off the remaining feeling of sleep. Just outside of the room you could hear some banging and clattering around, not even wanting to imagine what carnage Lance was getting up to around your apartment. You went to shout for him, but your voice was still groggy, so instead you reached across and took your phone out from under your pillow.

Lance’s contact was number one as you pressed it and hoped he’d answer your call.

“Hey sleepyhead,” his familiar voice softly spoke as he answered, “how are you feeling? Bit better now you’ve had a bit of a rest.”

“Why did you leave me?” You groaned, running your free hand through your messy hair. Lance could only chuckle at the desperation in your voice, letting him know that you were still pretty sleepy too.

“I had some things to do,” he chuckled, “we can’t all sleep all day.”

“Hey, some of us have work to do,” you murmured, pulling the duvet even further around your frame. “Everything hurts Lance, I swear this feeling in my stomach better be my period arriving otherwise you’re gonna have to fast track me to hospital like the roads are a formula one track.”

A frown formed on Lance’s face as he listened to you, heart breaking at your anguish. “I’m sorry that it’s hurting love, do you need me to get you anything? I was going to go to the gym and try and get a quick session in, but I can stay here with you instead. I managed to get all my other jobs done whilst you slept,” Lance informed you. He was desperate to get everything sorted so that when you were awake, he was able to place his undivided attention all on you.

You thought for a moment before finding the energy to respond, “I think all that I want is you right now.”

“I can definitely do that,” Lance smiled, moving around the living room and tidying the last few little bits up so that it was exactly how you liked it.

“You know where I am to come and do that.”

“Can’t we stay on the phone?” Lance teased.

Your scoff was so loud that he managed to hear you from the other room.

“I hate you,” you muttered under your breath.

Lance chuckled at your response, “I’m only messing with you babe, I’m coming.”

As soon as your bedroom door opened the expression on your face softened. Lance dropped his phone into his pocket before closing the door behind him and making his way across to you where you laid impatiently.

You shuffled over slightly so that there was enough room for Lance to sit down beside you, brushing his hands through your hair before tracing a delicate trail of kisses along your jawline and against your mouth.

What captures Lance’s attention the most though is the mess of your hair, how some strands have fallen in front of your face, how other strands have knotted together where you’ve tossed and turned, or how some have beads of sweat attached from where you’ve ended up getting too hot whilst you rested.

And the feeling of Lance’s eyes looking at your hair soon made you feel unsettled. “There’s a hairband in my top drawer, I can tie it all back out of the way.”

Lance’s smile dropped into a frown as he realised what he had accidentally done. “No, I didn’t mean it for that love, your hair is fine,” Lance assured you, opening up the drawer and taking the band out of it anyway.

“What are you doing with that then?"

Lance twirls the band between his fingertips a few times before stretching it out and closing it again, he pretends to aim it a few times at you to flick it but quickly stops himself when he meets the fear in your eyes. “These could do some serious damage, how are these not classes as a weapon?” He chuckles to himself, surprised at the resistance in the band. You just stay where you are, watching in disbelief as something so simple ends up fascinating him to no end. There had been plenty of them scattered around his apartment over the years, but Lance had never quite realised how important they were to you, or how strong they really were to hold your hair up so well.

But he’d only seen yours.

You can see him thinking, poking against his arm to capture his attention. “Want to tell me what’s making you smile like that?”

Lance glances across at you, “would you be uncomfortable if I laid down here?”

Lance pointed to the gap between your legs, looking at you with a hopeful grin on his face. You immediately began to worry about what his attentions were, knowing him too well.

It didn’t take long for Lance to realise what it was that you were thinking too. “I’m not going to sleep with you baby, I just thought you might want to try something out.”

“I-I knew that,” you stuttered, trying to brush Lance off, but his eyes rolled, knowing he had read you and that mind of yours perfectly.

Lance moves from where he was sat, positioning himself between your legs and leaning himself back. “I can’t believe you think of me like that.”

You allow Lance to lower himself back, resting your hands against his shoulders to make sure he lays himself in a spot that is comfortable enough for you too. Meanwhile, his hands reach up and brush through his hair.

Slowly you begin to pick up on the hints that Lance has dropped, understanding why he had decided to lay there. “Are you really giving me the chance to play with your hair? You’ve turned me down every time I’ve asked for years.”

Lance nodded nervously, “I’m trusting you, which is very brave of me to do.”

You moved your hands, beginning to brush through the volume of Lance’s hair, “I’m so glad you decided to grow this out now.” Whilst you begin to entertain yourself with Lance’s hair, he picks out his phone from his pocket and begins to read through some of the messages he’s been sent. He’s used to having his hair messed with, despite stubbornly telling people on shoots that his hair is fine, they still protest and use their products to make sure that Lance’s hair looks as good as it possibly can.

Your touch is surprisingly gentle for Lance, you carefully scoop the strands up and twirl the hairband around them. On the odd occasion you pull too hard, he hisses, before assuring you that he doesn’t mind a little bit of pain.

Lance stuns himself with how comfortable he is, almost relaxing into your touch too much, feeling himself having to fend off the urge to go to sleep.

Eventually your attempt is complete. You’ve taken as much of Lance’s hair as you can, tying it into a small ponytail at the top of his head. You couldn’t help but proudly smile at what you had done, although you weren’t sure whether Lance would be as big of a fan of your masterpiece.

“You look amazing,” you chuckled, letting Lance know that you had finished with him.

Straight away he turned the camera of his phone onto himself, keen to see what you’d done. A snigger came from him as he lifted the phone up to see the little bun that you had tied to the top of his hair, loose strands sticking out in all directions where they had either slipped out or hadn’t quite been long enough to reach the band. Lance shakes his head, but you know deep down from his expression that he’s mightily impressed.

Behind him, you’re struggling to hold back your own laughter, impressing yourself with how well it had actually turned out. Lance’s free hand reaches up and brushes his hand over the bun a couple of times. It’s thicker than he imagined, and surprisingly suits him more than he had imagined too. He didn’t want to quite compliment the job you had done, worried that messing with his hair would become a regular occurrence.

“What do you think to showing this to the stylist next time you have a shoot at work?” You proposed, telling just from his shift in posture that Lance’s eyes had widened. “You might start a bit of a trend amongst drivers, I’d go as far to say as you’re not far enough managing to get yourself a manbun here Stroll.”

Lance finally takes the chance to tilt his head and look back at you, his expression full of disbelief. “Something tells me that it might be a little bit tricky for me to be able to put a helmet on if I’ve got this sticking out of the top of my head, I’ll end up ripping half of my hair out or something love.”

As you study Lance, your mind is beginning to fill with all sorts of ideas as to what you could do with him. He could tell your mind was hard at work as he watched you, Lance was slightly fearful as to what came next. However, after hearing your groggy voice earlier, he knew it was worth it to finally be able to see you smile again and hear that cheeriness in your voice that he was so fond of.

You found yourself unable to take your eyes from Lance, he’d hate you for saying it, but he looked cute. Adorable, in fact. “Stop,” he spoke, making you jump. Your smile was only getting bigger which made him sense that more danger was on its way, particularly after he had offered to let you play with his hair.

“I can’t take you seriously like this,” you admitted, reaching to where you had left your phone and opening up the camera. Lance reluctantly smiled as you told him to, snapping a photo of him with his hair still upright, the stubble on his face finishing the look off perfectly for you.

“Is this it? Can I take it out now?” Lance hopefully asked, only to have that snatched away from him when your head shook. You’d managed to get most of his hair in one band, but you were sure that you could do a little bit better.

With one quick movement you took the band out of Lance’s hair let it fall in all sorts of directions around his head.

You turned Lance’s head around so that he was facing the other way again, using your fingertips to part it so that it sat perfectly on either side of his head. “Do I even want to ask what you’re doing?” Lance enquired, catching you reaching for another hairband out of the corner of his eye.

There was a moment before you spoke, wanting to find the perfect answer to catch Lance out. “You don’t need to worry bub, I’m just making you look even more handsome then you already do.”

“What are you trying to say? That I’m not handsome enough.”

“I mean…” you trailed off, “there’s always room for improvement.” In response, Lance reached back as best as he could and tickled against your waist. It took you by surprise as you flinched, accidentally kicking your leg into the small of his back as you tried to move him away. His hair slipped out of your hands as you moved back, letting Lance fall back slightly which made him stop.

You groaned as you tried to recompose yourself again, “what did I even do for you to be so mean to you?”

“You said I wasn’t handsome enough,” Lance huffed as you returned to your job and started to fix Lance’s hair back up again. “This is the point when you tell me that’s not true.”

“Hang on,” you spoke, tying one half of his hair into a hairband, before taking the hair on the other side of his head and tying that up into another band. “Now you’re handsome enough,” you smiled as you moved back and admired your handiwork again, knowing Lance would never quite know how to react to it.

“Babe,” he sighed as he grabbed his phone once again and noticed the two buns now on the top of his head. Lance turned himself around so that he was now facing you, pressing a kiss against your lips. “No one at work would ever take me seriously again if they saw me looking like this.”

“Really? Cause I don’t think you’ve ever looked better,” you couldn’t help but tease.

“At least everyone will know what a nice boyfriend I am if they see that I’ve done this,” Lance tried to reason, searching for a way to make himself feel better.

You hummed in agreement with him as you fixed a few of the strands that weren’t quite where you wanted them to be. “Everyone knows how good of a boyfriend you are, you trend more for your loving gestures then you do for your performances on the track these days. You’re the driver that all the teenage girls wish they could date, that’s got to count for something?”

Lance didn’t tend to involve himself with that side of things too much, but you loved to tease him about it whenever you got the chance.

Some people weren’t particularly fond of others commenting and gushing over their partner’s on social media, but you on the other hand, adored it. You loved knowing that the guy they spoke about was the guy that you got to go home with at night. Or how behind closed doors Lance managed to prove those people wrong – many would never expect Lance to let someone play with his hair, how wrong they were.

“You’re the best,” you suddenly spoke, taking Lance by surprise too as he took a hold of both of your hands.

“Where did that suddenly come from?” He questioned, searching to meet your eyes as he waited for your answer.

“Nowhere, it’s just the truth."

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a while, as embarrassed as Lance wanted to be that he sat with his hair in space buns, he wasn’t. It was a memory that he would hold onto, mostly because of the smile that was on your face. Knowing that you had enjoyed messing around with Lance was by far the most important thing to him.

You snapped a couple more pictures of Lance, moving to take the hairbands out of his hair, only for him to stop you. His grip wasn’t tight, but it was strong enough to move your hands down back into your lap. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but Lance sat proudly in front of you, almost as if to tell you that he was happy for his hair to be left as it was for a little while longer.

You continued to stare for a few moments, expecting Lance to change his mind, but he didn’t. He sat with the same smile on his face, knowing that he had left you in a state of utter bemusement. “You actually don’t mind this?” You eventually asked, finally allowing your smile to reappear. “Does this mean that I’ll get to play with your hair more often now?”

He hated to admit it, he hated to give you the satisfaction, but Lance had surprisingly found it all very relaxing. Now he got it. He got why you always asked him to play with your hair whenever you weren’t feeling yourself.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind if you did it again.”

“I knew it!”

Lance’s head shook, “you really are impossible sometimes.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[amirasainz]

I was wondering if you could write a Pierre x reader where it’s kinda like your lance one where they’re having a photo shoot but things get spicy

Oh my god. It's been so long since I wrote an Amira Sainz story. I thought this was the perfect opportunity to write one again.

Guys, you can always send me requests for anything❤️

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

No Part 2

The Perfect Shot

The sun hung high in the sky, its golden rays shimmering off the azure waves surrounding the luxurious yacht. The gentle rocking of the boat created a soothing rhythm, the sound of laughter mingling with the soft lapping of water against the hull. Amira stood at the edge of the deck, the salty breeze playing with her long, dark hair. She wore a stunning black swimsuit that hugged her curves perfectly, accentuating her figure. The elegant jewellery she adorned sparkled like stars against her sun-kissed skin, while her high heels lent her an air of sophistication even on a yacht.

Pierre leaned against the railings, wearing nothing but stylish swimming trunks that showcased his athletic build. He adjusted his sleek sunglasses, his heart racing at the sight of Amira. They were friends, of course—he had spent many weekends with the Sainz family, enjoying their hospitality and bonding with Carlos. But today, it felt different; the atmosphere was charged with a tension that made Pierre’s palms sweat.

“Are you ready, Amira?” he called, a playful grin spreading across his face.

“Just a second!” she replied, turning to face him, the sunlight illuminating her face. “I want to make sure I look perfect for these shots!”

Pierre stepped closer, trying to keep his composure. “You already look perfect. You’re going to steal the spotlight, not just from the yacht but from the ocean itself.”

Amira blushed slightly, her cheeks tinged with pink as she adjusted the necklace around her neck. “Stop it, you’re making me nervous!” She giggled, brushing her hair behind her ear. “This is just a fun photoshoot, right?”

“Fun? Absolutely! But also a chance for me to get some incredible pictures of you,” Pierre teased, stepping back to take a mental snapshot of her. “Just think of it as practice for when you become a model.”

“Me? A model?” Amira laughed, tilting her head in disbelief. “I think I’d trip and fall before the camera even clicked!”

“Not with me around to catch you,” Pierre shot back, his heart skipping at the thought. “Besides, you’ll be too busy stunning everyone with that smile of yours.”

With a playful eye roll, Amira joined him on the deck. “Okay, let’s get started before I change my mind!”

The photographer, a well-known professional with a reputation for capturing breathtaking moments, was already set up with his camera, ready to catch every smile, laugh, and spontaneous moment. “Alright, you two! Let’s get some warm-up shots. Amira, why don’t you sit on Pierre’s lap for the first pose?”

Amira’s eyes widened, and she shot a glance at Pierre. He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the rapid beating of his heart. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

With a hesitant smile, she sat down on his lap, her heart racing for entirely different reasons now. The warmth of Pierre’s body radiated against her, and she couldn’t help but notice how close they were. “Is this okay?” she asked, her voice a mix of excitement and nervousness.

“Perfect,” Pierre whispered, leaning in slightly so their faces were mere inches apart. “Just relax and have fun.”

As the camera clicked, Pierre wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her securely. “You know, you look absolutely stunning like this,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “The sea has nothing on your beauty.”

Amira giggled, feeling a thrill from the compliment. “You’re just saying that to make me blush!”

“I would never lie about something so important,” he replied, his tone playful yet sincere. “Trust me, you’re the highlight of my day.”

As they posed, Amira felt more comfortable, her laughter mingling with Pierre’s teasing remarks. He whispered sweet nothings that made her heart flutter, each comment bringing them closer. “What if I told you I’d never want to take my eyes off you?” he murmured, leaning closer.

“Is that a line?” she asked, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Maybe it’s a promise,” he replied softly, his eyes sparkling behind the lenses of his sunglasses.

After a few more poses, the photographer suggested they change locations to the front of the yacht. “Let’s try a more dynamic shot! Amira, stand at the edge while Pierre holds your waist from behind.”

Amira moved to the edge, her heart pounding as Pierre stepped behind her. She felt his hands at her waist, grounding her, and the ocean breeze blew her hair back dramatically. “Are you scared?” he asked, his voice low, sending shivers down her spine.

“A little,” she admitted, glancing back at him. “But I feel safe with you.”

“Good,” he replied, leaning in closer, his lips almost brushing her ear. “Just remember to breathe. And if you fall, I’ll catch you.”

The photographer snapped away, capturing the moments of joy, laughter, and undeniable chemistry between them. As Amira leaned forward to pose, Pierre’s grip tightened, and he couldn’t resist whispering, “You know, if you keep looking that beautiful, I might just have to keep you on this yacht forever.”

“Is that so?” she teased, her heart racing. “And what would we do here? Just take photos all day?”

Pierre chuckled, his face lighting up. “Well, I can think of a few other things…” His voice trailed off, leaving the implication hanging in the air, thick with tension.

“Oh really? Like what?” Amira prompted, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Like maybe having a little dance party on the deck, just us and the ocean,” he suggested, the playful glint in his eyes making her laugh. “Or a sunset picnic, where I can show you my cooking skills… or lack thereof.”

Amira’s laughter rang out, bright and genuine. “I’d love that, but we might need to stick to takeout unless you plan to burn the yacht down!”

“Touché! Let’s focus on the photoshoot for now,” Pierre said, laughing. “But remember, I have plenty of ideas.”

As they continued to pose, the sun began to set, casting a warm golden hue over everything. Pierre’s playful side came out as he tried to make Amira laugh in every shot, pulling funny faces and whispering the most ridiculous compliments. “You know, if you don’t stop being this cute, I might really fall for you,” he joked, though a part of him meant every word.

“Good luck with that! I’m pretty clumsy,” she replied, laughing as she adjusted her hair.

Pierre smirked, “Clumsy is charming! It’s like a bonus point in the dating world.”

“Oh really? Is that how it works?” Amira shot back, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“It’s my philosophy,” he said, “and I might just have to test it out someday.”

Amira felt a warmth spread through her at his words, a flutter of excitement dancing in her chest. “Maybe we should make a deal then,” she suggested, her eyes glinting mischievously.

“A deal?” Pierre raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Yes! If you can make me laugh in the next few poses, I’ll agree to a sunset picnic,” she said, her smile infectious.

“Challenge accepted!” he grinned. “You won’t know what hit you.”

With renewed energy, they continued posing. Pierre made silly faces, spun around, and even tried to dance, making Amira laugh uncontrollably. The photographer captured every moment, but it was the chemistry between them that truly shone through the lens.

Finally, the photographer suggested a final pose as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of pink and orange. “Let’s do something romantic. Amira, sit on the edge, and Pierre, come behind her again, but this time, wrap your arms around her waist and pull her close.”

Amira’s breath caught as she followed the direction. She perched on the edge of the yacht, feeling the cool breeze against her skin. Pierre stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, his chest pressed against her back. “You’re going to fall!” she teased, turning her head to look at him.

“I’ve got you, don’t worry,” he whispered, his breath tickling her neck. “Just hold on tight.”

As they posed, Pierre leaned closer, his lips almost grazing her skin. “You know, this moment is perfect,” he murmured, a seriousness replacing the playfulness. “I can’t imagine sharing it with anyone else.”

Amira felt a rush of heat flood her cheeks. “You’re making me blush again!”

“That’s my job,” Pierre said, a playful smirk on his face. “Now smile for the camera, beautiful.”

As the photographer captured the moment, Amira turned her head slightly, and their lips brushed ever so lightly. Both froze, the air thick with tension as their eyes met. Pierre’s heart raced, and he felt a rush of boldness. “Amira, I…”

Before he could finish, Amira interrupted, her voice barely a whisper. “Maybe we should focus on the photos…”

But Pierre couldn’t resist the urge. “What if I told you I really like you, Amira? Like, a lot,” he confessed, his voice low and sincere.

Her eyes widened, a mix of surprise and delight. “Really?” she asked, searching his face for sincerity.

“Absolutely. You’re amazing—funny, sweet, and beautiful. I can’t help it,” he admitted, his arms tightening around her as if to emphasize his words.

Amira felt a rush of warmth in her chest. “I had no idea you felt that

°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°°••°

The conference room buzzed with energy as Carlos and Charles sat across from each other, going over strategy for the upcoming race. The air was thick with anticipation until Carlos's phone buzzed incessantly on the table.

“¿Qué demonios?!” Carlos exclaimed, his eyes widening as he glanced at the screen. Photos of Amira in her black swimsuit, giggling and wrapped in Pierre’s arms on the yacht, flooded his notifications.

“Carlos?” Charles asked, noticing the sudden shift in his friend’s demeanor.

Carlos stood up, pacing the room, his fists clenching. “¡Maldita sea! This is unacceptable!” he swore in Spanish, frustration boiling over. “What the hell was Pierre thinking?”

Charles, looking pale, muttered, “I didn’t know… I thought they were just friends…”

Carlos shot him a look, his protective instincts kicking in. “Just friends? Look at those pictures! He’s all over her!”

Charles buried his head in his hands, his world crumbling. “Oh my God, please, no... Amira, no,” he murmured, instinctively praying in Italian, “Per favore, proteggila!”

Fred, sitting at the head of the table, sighed heavily, clearly done with the chaos. “Calm down, Carlos! You’re acting like a child. We have a meeting!”

“Not until I deal with this,” Carlos shot back, determination etched on his face. “I’m going to strangle Pierre!”

“Calm down before you end up on the front page of the tabloids,” Fred replied, exasperated, rubbing his temples.

As Carlos continued to pace, Charles whispered a silent prayer for Amira’s safety and asked God to give him the chance to do a photoshoot with her next.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Sibling Rivalry {3}

Pairing: F1 drivers (platonic) x fem!reader Summary: The rift you have caused comes to a destructive head when summer breaks is over. Warnings: 18+ only, lots of bad language, crash, injuries, angst WC: 2.9k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three

Summer Break “I really fucked up.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound hoarse from all the crying. You were curled up on your side on the couch in Pierre’s apartment in Milan, your head on his lap as his hand ran up and down your arm in comfort. “He’s never going to forgive me.”

“He’s your brother, he’ll forgive you,” he assured you once again. “I’ve said way worse things to my brothers. Maybe this break is exactly what you need, get away from Max for a few weeks, have some space.”

“And Lando, and Charles.” You groaned as you rolled onto your back and stared up at your closest friend. “You have a bear in the cave.”

“Gross, don’t look up my nose,” he said as he pushed you off his lap.

“I can’t help it, it’s the angle,” you laughed as you sat up before sobering. “Have you spoken to them?”

“Lando was heading back to Monaco to spend the holidays with Luisa, and Charles was on his way to the Alps to meet up with Charlotte.” 

You sighed at the mention of their girlfriends and Pierre gave you a look of pity that you resented. Pulling your phone out, with the determination to move on from the silly crushes that had developed over the years, you opened the Raya app and shifted closer to him. “Can you help me?”

“Sure,” he said, taking the phone and locking it. “I’m taking you on a road trip.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Ah, but I think it’s what you need.”

Round Fourteen - Netherlands You reunited with the team for Max’s home race and a sea of orange filled the stands, all cheering for their Lion. You had tried to talk to him when you arrived at the track but you didn’t know what to say to repair the rift you had made. Every time you opened your mouth, nothing came out.

“That one’s for you,” Lance said as he tapped your elbow.

“Huh? What? Yeah, totally,” you rambled trying to recover from zoning out thinking about the three weeks of silence, not only with Max but Lando and Charles too. You had sat beside the Canadian on the sofa, the furthest point from the others and it hadn’t gone unnoticed. “Sorry, what was the question?”

“You look like you enjoyed your vacation with Pierre. It was quite different to how you usually spend your down time.”

“Because I was sober?” you teased. “My liver needed a break, as did my PR team, and it was really quite fun. Exactly what I needed actually and it was great to reconnect with Pierre since he upgraded to Yuki.”

You could feel three sets of eyes on you from the other end but then the conversation was diverted their way and you sagged back into the couch. That was until you heard the news that the holiday had been dubbed ‘break-up season’. Both Spaniards had become single in the first week, Logan and Lando in the second and Charles in the third. It had been quite the shock to their fans.

If Pierre hadn't removed your social media for the break you would have known all of this but instead you had to find out on stage with dozens of cameras capturing the surprise on your face. 

The second the interview was over you chased after Lando and finally caught up to him at the McLaren motorhome.

“Hey, can we talk?” You were aware that there were still plenty of cameras around, and it looked like the Netflix crew were scheduled to his team too. “Somewhere private.”

He didn’t exactly look happy at the request but his eyes softened as you quietly begged, “please, Lan?”

“In here,” he sighed, taking his cap off and running a hand through his hair as he opened the door to his room. The door clicked shut behind you and you looked around the small space, the air still humid and smelling like his body wash from the shower he took before the media conference.

“How was your break?” you asked as he sat down on a padded bench, leaving the more comfortable chair for you.

“Could have been better.”

There was a pregnant pause where you both waited for each other to speak. It wasn’t like him to be so short and you thought more would follow but he just stared back at you. 

Clearing your throat, you looked down at your hands on your lap. “I, uh, wanted to apologise for what I said to you. You were just being a good friend and I was a complete bitch.”

“You were a bitch,” he stated bluntly before he bit his lip and mouthed a silent, ‘sorry’ and tucked his knee up so he could rest his cheek on it.

You huffed a laugh of agreement. “I’ve heard that once or twice. I’m a work in progress, but I’m trying to change. Can you forgive me?”

His head lifted with a frown, his soft curls falling over his forehead to meet them. “What? No.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t expected everything to go back to how it was but you had thought he would at least accept your apology. Rising from the chair, you started to make your way to the door until you heard the vinyl bench squeak as he followed.

“Wait,” he said as he caught your hand reaching for the handle. “You were right. So there’s nothing to forgive.” He tugged your hand so you turned to face him before he let it slip through his fingers. “I was unhappy, and I probably should have broken up with Luisa a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I guess I just didn’t want to be alone again. Which, after you left, I realised is a poor reason to be in a relationship. So I really wasn’t up for offering advice. ” He smiled sheepishly and opened his arms. “Forgive me?”

You stepped into his embrace and buried your head in his neck with a nod. “You were right too.”

“About what?”

“Everything.” You were reluctant to leave the comfort of his arms but there was still one other person to apologise to. “I owe you and Charles for saving my ass. How about dinner at my place on Tuesday?”

“I mean, it was mostly me,” he joked as he puffed his chest up and pushed his shoulders back. “But we can invite him too, I guess.”

“Of course, my hero,” you swooned sarcastically before leaning in and kissed his cheek. “See you next Tuesday. See what I did there?”

“There’s my Spitfire,” he laughed and shook his head. “For a moment I thought you were gone.”

Max’s motorhome was empty when you reached it and so was the garage but his engineer, Calum, was there and said Max had gone to visit family. It hurt more than you expected to hear that you hadn’t been invited, especially since it was Jos’ side of the family that lived in the Netherlands. The side of the family you shared with Max. 

That pain followed you as you wandered around the paddock a little lost, signing autographs and stopping for photos with fans on autopilot. You didn’t know where to go, or how to fill the hours until Max returned. Then when he returned you weren’t even sure he would want to see you after what you said.

“Hey, I’ve called out like three times,” Charles said as he suddenly appeared in front of you and frowned at your startled reaction. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, no, sorry, I’m in a world of my own,” you said as you looked around to see you were outside Ferrari hospitality. “How, uh, how have you been? I meant to call you over the break and thank you for what you and Lando did for me.”

“It’s no problem, but it was mostly me.”

“Funny, he said the exact same thing,” you smirked. “Anyway, as a thank you, you two are coming to my place for dinner on Tuesday. I promise I won’t give you food poisoning, this time.”

“Well, that’s something to look forward to,” he said sarcastically. “But Tuesday works for me. Where were you heading anyway? I thought you would be with Max.”

You couldn’t hide the wince on your face at the mention of your brother and Charles reached out and rubbed your shoulder with a look of concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine. I actually need to go do a thing,” you lied as you started to feel the increasingly familiar burn of tears in your eyes.

“Chérie, wait.” Charles made to follow as you backed away but he stopped when you shook your head.

“Fuck,” you swore under your breath as you turned your back and wiped your eyes. It was race week and your emotions were all over the place, it was a recipe for disaster. 

Race Day

You threw your phone across the room and watched it bounce off the couch before hitting the floor with a crack. You could worry about the broken screen later, with the race only an hour away and Max still ignoring you there were more pressing things to think about.

You worked through your warm up routine under the watchful eye of your physiotherapist before making your way to the reflex machine. The lights danced across the buttons and you slapped each one with precision until it suddenly clicked off. 

“You’re not focused,” Kristian tutted.

“I hit them all,” you argued as you caught the bottle he threw to you and took a drink.

“Reacting out of habit is not the same as responding by reflex. You need to think, then do, not just do.”

You grumbled under your breath about what a load of crap it was but made a show of the next round before he gave up with a sigh. “I’m going to head down to the grid,” you said as you grabbed your helmet and balaclava. “Pierre can help me finish up.”

It was easy to spot Pierre with his PT, his concentration solely on the tennis balls he was focused on catching before they hit the ground. 

“Mind if I butt in?” you asked as you took the tennis balls and replaced Ben. “He still won’t talk to me.” You dropped the balls at the same time and he easily swiped them from the air before tossing it back into your palm.

“You can take my spot for the anthem, I think I saw my name next to his on the seating chart.”

“That’s probably not a good idea,” you admitted as you dropped the balls one after another trying to trick him. “I called him a dick, twice.”

One ball bounced along the asphalt when he laughed, missing the easy catch. “That’s the opposite of apologising.”

“I know, he just pissed me off.” You caught sight of the race suit that matched yours and watched him walk on the far side of the grip with Charles. “I don’t like being ignored.”

Pierre grabbed the wayward tennis ball and returned to hold them up over your hands. “You did start that by ignoring him first.”

“I thought we were friends.” You caught the ball he dropped and tossed it at his face. “You’re meant to take my side.”

He caught it before it could connect with his nose and crossed his arms with an amused smirk on his face. “I am your friend, so I will tell it like it is. Go talk to him.”

 You narrowed your eyes at him as you stepped away and he nodded encouragingly as you made your way across the home straight. 

“Not now,” Max said as soon as you stepped into his field of vision, making Charles look over his shoulder. 

“Then when?” you asked. “After the race? Next week? Next year? Should I put my name up for a transfer? Is that what you want?”

“Woah, what's going on?” Charles asked as watched you grow increasingly more upset with each question.

“Nothing, just an inchident,” Max said coldly. “Oma sends her regards and she’s sorry she didn’t get to see you.”

“You didn’t fucking invite me,” you growled as you stepped closer jabbed a finger into his chest.

Max rolled his eyes and schooled his face to one of boredom. “You told me to leave you alone.”

Your hands balled into fists at your side. “You are such a fucking asshole.”

“Hey, hey, that’s enough,” Charles interrupted, pushing himself between you and your brother before you could get disqualified. “Walk with me.”

Charles stepped closer and his hands grabbed your shoulders, turning you around before one hand pressed against the small of your back, urging you to keep moving. 

“What’s going on?” he asked as he took a seat against the pitwall and pulled you down beside him. “And don’t say it’s nothing. You haven’t been yourself all week.”

“We had an argument and now he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you.” Charles draped an arm over your shoulder and pulled you closer to kiss your temple. “He’s your older brother, he could never hate you. Trust me, there’s nothing Arthur could say that would make me hate him.”

“Arthur’s too nice to say anything mean, but me? I’m a bitch.”

“You’re not a bitch, you’re just passionate.” He let his head fall back against the wall with a chuckle. “I like that about you.”

“You must be the only one.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he murmured quietly and you followed his line of sight to Lando who was making his way over while everyone else started to move to the front of the grid. “Time to go.”

Charles stood up as Lando offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet.

“Try not to get too excited hearing the Dutch anthem,” you grumbled, earning a laugh from both of them as they fell into step either side of you, “again.”

You were driving recklessly, determined to beat Max, but it had meant receiving a black and white flag warning for exceeding the track limits three times. One more violation and you would get a five second penalty, practically handing the win over on a silver platter.

“You need to manage your tires,” Nicholas warned over the radio. “You are pushing them too hard, the degradation rate is exponential. They won’t last to the end of the race unless you slow down and stay between the white lines.”

“I can’t slow down when I have Max with DRS behind me.”

“That’s not the plan. We want a 1-2 finish, it doesn’t matter who leads across the line.”

“It does to me.”

You passed the next DRS detection line and took the corner at speed before hitting the straight and trying to defend your position. Max was right at your bumper, riding the slipstream as he increased speed in preparation to slingshot out and past you. 

Only something went wrong.

Instead of going around you, Max’s front wing crashed into the back of your car, lifting your rear wheels off the track and sending you scraping the length of the pit wall while he spun out. Debris hit your helmet as Max’s car slammed into the concrete barriers and carbon fibre splintered apart, raining over you and the track. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you growled into the comms as you pulled your steering console out and unbuckled the harness. You jumped over the side of your car and ran towards Max’s, hurling abuse at him the entire way. “Who’s the spoiled brat now? You just couldn’t let me have the win could you? Dick!”

A pained groan was all you heard from the cockpit and the anger evaporated in an instant as dreaded fear replaced it. You leapt onto the top of the car and reached over the halo, pulling the visor up on Max’s helmet to see a dazed look in his icy blue eyes before they fluttered shut. 

“Max, I need you to open your eyes. Look at me, dammit!” you growled as you started to pull his harness open and looked around wildly, wondering when help was coming. “I’m sorry for everything I said. I don’t hate you, okay? I don’t hate you. You’re my big brother and I love you, so you have to stick around and be overprotective and piss me off for a very long time. So open your fucking eyes!”

“Zusje?” he asked after a moment of blinking dumbly. “What happened?”

“You forgave me and said I could borrow your yacht.”

“Bullshit,” he groaned as he pushed his harness off his shoulders and accepted your hand to help him climb out. “I would never let you borrow my yacht.”

A groan wheezed out as his boots hit the ground and you wrapped an arm around his waist to take his weight, holding him steady. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

“Only if I can get a recording of your radio, you actually sounded worried for me,” he said with a laugh before he clutched his ribs. “Ow, fuck.”

“Of course I was worried, asshole. I thought you were hurt.”

“I am hurt,” he pointed out before rapping his knuckles on your helmet. “I love you too, little sis. Even when you say you hate me.”

Click here for Not A Verstappen: Gridlock {1}.

Tagging: @destourtereaux @severerebelearthquake @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @omgsuperstarg @mvclff1 @alwaysclassyeagle @icantcomeupwithamusicalname-blog @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky

[jiveyuncle]

This chapter absolutely gutted me. Oh boy, if you want heavy angst with a happy ending, this is it. Love, love, loved this fic. I thought it handled really hard, nuanced topics super well and in an honest way. Themes of morality, redemption, and healing from trauma. Read tags and warnings before reading. Stay safe ❤️

Fic: audience of one by @katranga on AO3

Lance gets captured by the Galra and sent to a prison ship. Keith, raised Galra, visits Lance's cell, driven by the unshakable curiosity about the new prisoner who looks like him.

^^^this is just Part 1 of the Ride or Die series by this author - I recommend reading both parts if you want the healing aspect of the journey 💕

[demcnsinmymind]

👀

Send 👀 to find out how much my muse would like to _____ yours | Open!

Get to know: NEVER! | I'd rather not | Convince me! | Sure why not? | Yes please! | ALWAYS! Befriend: NEVER! | I'd rather not | Convince me! | Sure why not? | Yes please! | ALWAYS! Date: NEVER! | I'd rather not | Convince me! | Sure why not? | Yes please! | ALWAYS! Make love with: NEVER! | I'd rather not | Convince me! | Sure why not? | Yes please! | ALWAYS! Hook up with: NEVER! | I'd rather not | Convince me! | Sure why not? | Yes please! | ALWAYS! Protect: NEVER! | I'd rather not | Convince me! | Sure why not? | Yes please! | ALWAYS! Help:NEVER! | I'd rather not | Convince me! | Sure why not? | Yes please! | ALWAYS! Stop: NEVER! | I'd rather not | Convince me! | Sure why not? | Yes please! | ALWAYS! Kill: NEVER! | I'd rather not | Convince me! | Sure why not? | Yes please! | ALWAYS!

[lxndonorris]

cozy - Lance Stroll

Y/N x Lance Stroll Theme: Smutish, light touching you spend the day cuddling with Lance x word count: 1260+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :)

As the soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm ambiance in the room, you and your boyfriend, Lance, find yourselves lost in the blissful cocoon of your shared intimacy. The comforting embrace of the bed seems to cradle you, and you can't help but lean your head against his chest, savoring the soothing rhythm of his heaving chest with every breath he takes.

Wrapped in the tranquil silence, he holds you close, and the world outside your haven fades away. There is an unspoken language in the way your bodies intertwine, creating a sanctuary of intimacy that words could not capture. His arms around you feel like a shield, protecting you both from the uncertainties beyond the bedroom walls.

However, as time passes, a subtle chill begins to permeate the air. Sensing your discomfort, Lance breaks your embrace with a tender smile and reaches for his hoodie.

In one swift moment, he takes it off, revealing another, thinner shirt underneath. "Here." He smiles softly and hands you the hoodie.

The fabric is soft and oversized, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth as you gratefully accept his offering. It carries the comforting scent of him, a familiar blend that instantly makes you feel at home.

"Thank you," Blushing slightly, you enjoy how its fabric glides across your skin.

With the borrowed garment hugging you, a few sizes too big but perfectly cozy, you resume your cuddle. His gentle caresses trace patterns on your back, a rhythmic dance that mirrors the beating of your hearts.

You rest your hand on his chest, relishing the warmth and subtle rise and fall beneath your touch.

In that shared place, where the world is reduced to the proximity of your intertwined bodies, Lance leans down to kiss your forehead.

As you continue to bask in each other's presence, you express your anticipation with a gentle smile: "I can't wait to see you racing again."

You lift your head when his eyes soften and a subtle warmth of gratitude illuminates his gaze.

"I will do my best to get on the podium again," he promises, a commitment that resonates with the passion he holds for racing.

"I know, Lance." You smile, lean in, and kiss him softly. He embraces your lips on his own, and his stubble tickles.

As your hand continues to traverse his chest, you cannot help but smile again.

"I cannot wait to see you in that beautiful green suit again." You giggle as his body reacts to your gentle touch.

A playful spark flickers in his eyes, and he teases you with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous smile.

"Why is that?" Lance shakes his head slowly, his voice carrying a mixture of curiosity and enticement.

Leaning in closer, your lips just inches away from his, you bite your lower lip, holding back another giggle.

"You just look so good, babé." You say, kissing him in between words, making him smile so brightly.

He knew the answer already, but it makes him feel better hearing you say that. His arms wrap around you, pulling you in a little closer.

"You know we've got the fitting soon." Lance growls deeply, tilting his head slightly while still looking right into your eyes. His eyes are shimmering in the dim light, drawing you in closer, and you couldn't pull away even if you tried.

A playful glint dances in his eyes as he shares his plans: "I'll make sure to take plenty of pictures." He lifts his chin slightly and narrows his eyes as his hands run up and down your back.

"Especially in my fireproofs." His words carry a teasing undertone, and a warm smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "I know you'll love that."

The idea of capturing those intimate moments, even in the context of a fitting, adds a new layer to your conversation. You always love seeing him in those tights, flattering his athletic physique. Especially those white ones are your weakness, and he is fully aware of the power he has over you.

Remembering the first time you saw him gives you goosebumps.

It was a few months into your relationship when he invited you to a race weekend. You had seen pictures of him, videos, and interviews, but it was nothing compared to the real thing. When he finally emerged in his racing suit, a wave of admiration washed over you. The sleek fabric clung to his body in all the right places, clinging to the contours of his athletic form.

You couldn't help but marvel at how good he looked—a vision of strength and determination. The suit not only encapsulated the essence of his sport but also added a touch of allure that made your heart race.

The fireproofs beneath the racing suit further emphasized his athletic build, creating a silhouette that exuded confidence and power. As he stood before you, ready for the upcoming race, you felt a surge of pride and admiration for him. With a swagger in his step, he approached you, hugged you, and kissed you. Since that day, he knew how much you loved him in that gear.

"You know me too well." With a sly grin, you intensify your gentle strokes across his chest, feeling his muscles, his pecs, and his abs tense slightly at every move of your fingers.

Carefully, you let your hand linger on his tummy, stroking him for a few moments before you trace his treasure trail further down his body to his crotch.

Lance leans forward, resting his head against yours with a soft smile.

As you stroke him, he starts to purr contently, embracing you in an even tighter hug.

Your hand runs up and down his thighs teasingly, while he places kisses on your forehead, your nose, and right on your lips.

"Lance, your beard is tickling me." You pretend to pull away, a giggle escaping your lips, but he persists, the teasing twinkle in his eyes growing more pronounced.

The two of you get more into the moment, and you feel his excitement growing against the palm of your hand. Once you intensify your strokes, he lets out a soft yet guttural moan, resting his head against the pillow underneath the two of you.

"Mhmm." He growls deeply, and while you keep on stroking him, you find yourself drawn to the details of his features. Your fingers trace the delicate path along his jawline, reveling in the subtle texture of his beard; it feels fluffly and soft, and you're glad he is growing a beard again.

"This looks so good on you." You express your admiration for his beard, as it has grown on you as much as it has grown on him.

"Thank you," Lance smiles, a blend of contentment and appreciation, as your fingers continue their exploration.

Now, you let go of him and run both of your hands across his firm chest—his training is paying off—before they slide underneath his shirt. Lance keeps working out in preparation for the season, as he must be physically and mentally ready for that many races, some under volatile conditions.

You're seeking the warmth of his skin; the touch of his soft skin beneath your fingertips sends a shiver of intimacy through you. As you wrap your arms around him in an intimate hug, Lance reciporates, embracing you fully.

His chest presses against yours, his arms hold you close, and he proceeds to kiss you again and again, so softly and lovingly.

Lance is humming quietly, taking many deep breaths, while you close your eyes, enjoying this moment.

[grandlinedreams]

omg omg omg your fics are so adorable😭😭😭 if you don’t mind could do you an angsty hurt/comfort law x reader story about how the reader gets captured by marines and gets tortured, and the heart pirates have to rescue them and get them back to health ??

have a good day or night!!💗💗💗

Hdhdh thank-you, I try!! But absolutely i can!! I hope that this is to your liking!!

[Heads up!: mentions of canon typical violence, injuries, established relationship, hurt/comfort]

"It's not as bad as it looks."

Law looks up, jaw clenched as he prods gloved fingers against the dark cluster of bruising on your side. You bite back a hiss as he does so, exhaling when he lets up.

"They cracked at least two of your ribs." His tone is flat, and you can tell that he's upset ㅡ with you or the marines, however, you're not entirely sure. "From what I've been able to assess so far, that's also in addition to your arm, which is broken. Two of your fingers needed reset, not to mention the likelyhood of a concussionㅡ"

"Okay," you interrupt, "maybe it is as bad as it looks."

Law's eyes narrow. "That's understatement." You watch as he turns to grab a pair of tweezers, soaking a cottonball into antiseptic before he brings it up to dab at the puffy cut on your cheek. "You could have died."

You bite back another hiss, closing your eyes at the pain that lances from your bruised (and cracked) ribs. "But I didn't."

"You got lucky." Law's tone is icy as he dabs at the split in your lip. You watch as he turns to begin cleaning up the supplies he's used.

"Next timeㅡ"

Law almost slams the bandage case shut and turns to you, expression that of quiet fury, golden eyes blazing. "Next time? The next time you're dumb enough to get caught, they'll kill you. There will be no next time, [Name]."

You meet his gaze. "I'd rather die than betray this crew, Law. You know that."

Law is silent as he finishes up cleaning things and packing them away before he gets to his feet and moves towards the door. He pauses there, shoulders slumping with his slow exhale. "I know," he answers at last, "and that's exactly what I'm afraid of."

ㅡ

"I never did get to thank you two for rescuing me," you say as you study the cards before you, peering up at Penguin and Shachi.

Penguin smiles. "It was no problem. Kind of cool to get to sneak into a marine base. Like a spy."

"We couldn't have done it without captain," Shachi adds before he pauses. "Speaking of, did captain give you the okay to be wandering around again?"

Your lips part.

"No," comes the clipped response from behind you, making you freeze before you tip your head back to find Law staring at you. "I didn't."

"Iㅡ"

"Room." Tattooed fingers grip your shoulder. "Shambles."

Your stomach spins as scenery abruptly shifts, and you huff as Law appears a moment after you. "Using your devil fruit on me? Really?"

"Yes," Law answers, frustration clear in both his tone and expression. "Because you apparently can't follow orders. I told you bedrest and minimal movement."

"They're going to suspect something if they figure out you used it to drop me in your room."

He shrugs, arms folded across his chest. "Let them."

You groan. "Law, I'm going to insane. Let me do something."

"I'll tell you what you can do," Law starts, watches your expression light up. "You can do as I tell you and quit being a brat."

You stare, expression going deadpan. "There's no fun in that."

Law scowls before he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. "...just do this for me," he says, tone softer. "Please."

You stare and then huff as you move towards is bed, yanking the covers back to slip beneath them. Mindful not to jostle your arm or your bruised side, you turn to look at Law. "Happy?"

"Thrilled," comes the amused answer when you sulk, and he approaches to crouch beside the bed. "Quit pouting, you're an adult."

"But this is boring."

"Try to sleep. Rest is going to help you more than anything." Placing his hand over your eyes, Law can feel the brush of your eyelashes.

"Trying to smother me isn't going to help either."

Law's eyes flick skyward for a moment as he sighs. "I'm hardly smothering you. Although it's an idea, given that you'd be unconscious."

You reach up, pulling his hand down enough you can stare. "You wouldn't dare." He raises an eyebrow, and your eyes narrow. "Law."

"Then go to sleep." He counters crisply. "Or what can I offer you that will get you to stay put so I can work and not have to hunt you down?"

You hum, expression thoughtful before your eyes lock with his. "Kiss me." When he gives you a flat look, you grin. "You heard me, if you give me a kiss I'llㅡ"

Law's lips are against yours, familiar pressure that makes your eyes slide shut as you press back, good hand coming up to rest against the back of his cap. And then he's pulling away, ignoring your whine of protest. "Go to sleep."

"But I wantㅡ"

"Sleep," Law emphasizes. "We made a deal."

He pulls away completely, and you scowl before turning away with a huff. "Fine. Since you won't give me another kiss."

Scoffing, Law reaches to tug at the brim of his hat, hoping you don't notice the faint flush to his cheeks. "And I told you to stop being a brat."

Crossing the room, Law seats himself at his desk and flips open one of the various books he'd been taking notes from earlier. He doesn't know how long he reads for but when he looks up again, you're finally asleep.